Beautiful Disaster Rivals

Chapter 1

Drea Cordeira glanced at the early morning sun filtering through her floor-to-ceiling curtains and the interplay of light and shadows throughout the spacious bedroom of her loft.

The softness of her sheets against her naked body reminded her that she was not alone, and she turned to see who her companion was today.

The blonde from the club stretched and smiled at her. “Good morning.”

The greeting always scared Drea a little, somehow feeling more intimate than what had transpired the night .

. . and early morning hours before. A feeling of mild panic gripped her chest, maybe at the idea that this could be her life, a million mornings waking up to someone expecting her to be something she wasn’t.

But as Drea smiled at the woman, she felt a calm return to her, easing the tightness in her chest, allowing her to breathe again. She knew what to do. She’d done it many times before. No woman would ever truly shake her again—she’d vowed that to herself many years ago.

“Heey,” she dragged out the word, coating it with her southern drawl, knowing the effect it had on women.

The woman’s sleepy yet hopeful eyes turned more sensual as Drea leaned in and kissed her, long and slow.

And even though the kiss and the night before had been pleasant, Drea knew that she and the woman were having very different experiences in this moment.

Drea just had to make sure the woman didn’t start thinking this was something it wasn’t.

When Drea pulled back from the kiss, the woman opened her mouth to speak, but before any words were formed, Drea jumped in.

“Last night was . . .” Hope returned to the woman’s eyes as Drea spoke, but she pressed on.

“Fun.” When understanding dimmed the woman’s expression, Drea felt torn.

She always was at this moment. Part happy that they were on the same page, but also panged that she caused that brightness in someone’s eyes to disappear.

But it was better now than later. At least now there were no expectations, no arguments to be had, no hateful judgments to spew.

It was easy and fun and that’s all she needed.

All she would ever need. Still, the look on the woman’s face didn’t sit well.

“I’ll make some coffee,” she added quickly and kissed the woman’s cheek before hopping out of bed, grabbing the robe draped over the latest painting she’d been working on, and heading for the kitchen.

Pickles, her rust-colored tabby, appeared at her heels, meowing along the way to the kitchen, just in case Drea had somehow developed amnesia over the past few hours and had forgotten it was breakfast time.

She poured food into Pickles’ bowl and gave him a quick pet before grabbing the tin of Café Du Monde chicory coffee.

As she opened the lid, she took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar nutty and earthy aroma, letting it fill her lungs, awaking her body while calming her soul.

Was it telling that she was more excited waking up to this coffee than to the woman in her bed?

As the coffee brewed, Drea rushed through the motions in the bathroom, grateful she had a very simple morning routine.

She grabbed a black T-shirt and pulled on the jeans that had been tossed to the floor the night before.

After a glance at the woman who had fallen back to sleep in her bed, she made a bit more noise pulling on her black calf-high boots and stomping back to the kitchen.

Sam Parker, her boss who also happened to be her best friend since middle school, had implored everyone to be on time for the Monday morning meeting.

So she couldn’t be late. She had taken a few sips of coffee, letting it surge through her veins and blow away any cobwebs of sleep that still remained, when the woman, thankfully already dressed in her clothes from the previous night, joined her in the kitchen.

Pickles jumped up on the white marble island and watched the woman for a moment, and Drea wondered what he must think.

It wasn’t every night that she had company, but enough that he had seen a fair share of the queer female population of New Orleans.

She handed the woman a to-go cup of coffee and quickly filled her own thermos.

“I’m running late for work, so I’ll walk you out,” Drea said as she grabbed her leather messenger bag from the counter.

The woman’s face fell. “Oh, okay,” she said in a voice clearly indicating it wasn’t okay.

Drea turned to Pickles and scratched under his chin for a moment before leaning in. “Don’t judge me, mister. You’d do it too,” she whispered into his ear. Pickles gave the little purr-meow he did when he was happy, and Drea couldn’t help but plant a kiss on his furry little forehead.

She smiled to the woman and placed her hand on the small of her back as she started to walk toward the door. “Shall we?”

As they walked out of Drea’s apartment building into the bustling Central Business District, people rushed by them on their way to work as a line of cars rolled by and a few horns honked in the distance. The woman hesitated before saying, “Well . . .”

The mix of sadness and bewilderment in the woman’s eyes stirred something in Drea, so she did the only thing she could, wrapping the woman in a hug, hoping that could be enough.

When she let go, she placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder.

“Take care of yourself,” she said, and then turned on her heel to hurry to her car.

When the engine roared, a sense of power ran through Drea.

Freedom and control. She felt most like herself when she was driving .

. . and painting . . . and more sensual pursuits.

She lowered the top of her convertible as the hot, sticky September air enveloped her and headed down the street, letting the wind tear through her hair.

As she pressed the gas pedal further, any lingering feelings from the morning drifted from her mind, lost in a blur with the passing scenery.

As Drea entered Uptown about twenty minutes later, the colorful shotgun houses with remnants of Mardi Gras beads from the previous year’s festivities still draped over wrought-iron fences, and the neighborhood bars and restaurants nestled amongst the houses, felt like home.

She had moved downtown a few years ago, wanting a change, and a bit more distance from her family, but as much as she loved her loft with its view of the river, nothing held a candle to this neighborhood.

She had spent most of her childhood here with Sam.

The thought shook Drea from her nostalgia, and she took a hard turn as her car squealed around the final corner.

She parked in front of the office, took a quick sip of coffee, and ran up the stairs, wondering what news Sam had to share with the team.

Drea entered the office like a whirlwind, her gait confident and sure, on the edge of on-time.

She sat at the rectangular conference table, a bit large for their small team, and ran a hand through her dark, curly hair, a little wild from the drive over.

“Good morning, y’all,” she said to the half-full table.

Sam was pointing out some items on the paper in front of her to Cassie Sullivan, her administrative assistant, as they mumbled a few words back and forth. When Sam looked up, a warm smile spread across her face. “Heya, Drea.”

Drea couldn’t help but smile at the rhyme Sam had coined during their younger years. The pulse of nostalgia warmed her.

The last stragglers filtered into the conference room, the only room with a door in the large, open-concept office that had been the site of a former chicory coffee house. They joined the table as Drea spun around in her chair, sipping her coffee.

As everyone got settled, Sam cleared her throat and began the meeting, covering various projects for the coming week, who was doing what, and upcoming deadlines. Drea couldn’t help but smile to herself at seeing Sam in this role.

Through over twenty years of friendship, she had watched her best friend struggle through obstacles, assholes, and, as a result, self-esteem issues, but Sam had finally taken the risk of a lifetime by investing in herself, leaving her job, and starting her own marketing firm.

It wasn’t easy and Sam had put in some very long days in the beginning, but Drea could now see the beginnings of the woman she had always seen in Sam, even more obvious those rare moments in the past when Sam got out of her own way and believed in herself a little.

Despite the stress and chaos of a new business, there was a peace to Sam now that Drea had never seen before. The worry line between her brows had faded, and there was a glimmer in her eyes that Drea hadn’t seen in years.

Sam interrupted Drea’s thoughts. “Drea, you’re on Daily Bread’s new logo. I told Jody we’d have it to her by Friday.”

“On it, boss.” Drea nodded.

“Also . . .” Sam clasped her hands together with a hopeful grin on her face. “I have two exciting things to share with you all.”

The pleased look on Sam’s face calmed Drea, realizing the news was going to be good. At this early stage of the company, they needed everything to go well.

“After a lot of hard work by Cassie,” Sam gestured at Cassie with a warm smile, “I’m very happy to say we have landed Beau and Lorna Rush and their restaurant, The Well, as our newest clients.

Cassie will serve as the lead on the account.

Drea, Beau and Lorna are coming to see the mock-ups on Thursday morning.

Cassie can walk you through the plans for The Well after we finish. ”

Drea lifted her silver thermos to Sam, then took a sip as her focus drifted from Sam’s hazel eyes to the brown eyes next to her.

She knew Cassie had been Sam’s right hand at McGrady Marketing, the firm where Sam had worked before starting her own company, but she couldn’t help but feel the tiniest twinge at someone else being so close to her best friend, even if it was just at work.