In fact, it was a terrible day and she was tempted to scream so loudly she broke every one of her dependable Volvo’s tempered glass windows.
Instead, she turned and leaned back against its front fender, forcing her emotions into check until she’d calmed down. Claudia pushed her purse strap back onto her shoulder and made her way to the apartment building in front of her.
Claudia had been thrilled when her brother’s girlfriend, Dr. Jenna Sutherland, had invited her to her old apartment for a girl’s night in, complete with Jenna’s two best friends.
Jenna was a beautiful orthopedic surgeon from Georgia, who also happened to be the only person in the world Wyatt ever seemed to listen to about anything. This fact alone was proof Claudia needed to get to know her better.
Maybe Pittsburgh wasn’t Claudia’s first choice of places to start her FBI career, but she’d been really trying to make a go of it, and new friends seemed like just the boost she needed. Which meant, she should probably stop acting like an angry eight-year-old in the parking lot and start socializing.
She entered the code Jenna had given her to the building, a free-flowing sense of excitement filling her body as she made her way up the steps.
Claudia pressed the doorbell of the apartment, now inhabited solely by Jenna’s best friend, Aubrey.
The door opened and Claudia fought to soften her features so she didn’t scare off the grinning cool-looking woman in front of her.
“Hi. I’m Claudia. You must be Aubrey. We haven’t actually met, but…”
The tall beauty grabbed her and pulled her into a hug, which planted Claudia’s face into her small bosom, knocking the wind out of her.
“Of course I know who you are! You’re practically family, girl. Get on in here,” Aubrey said cheerfully, pulling away enough to give Claudia some air before dragging her through the door. “Jenna’s not here, yet. She called to say she’s running late with one of her patients. Girl’s night has already commenced, even if we’re still short one girl.”
“As long as it’s no trouble, that would be great.”
“Of course not. If I always waited for that workaholic to drag herself from the office, I’d never get a drink in me, and wouldn’t that just be a shame? Our friend, Tea, is already here, too.”
Aubrey’s words came at Claudia like rapid-fire shotgun pellets of happiness, punctuating just how lonely and desperate she’d been for friendship over these last few frustrating weeks.
Claudia responded with a smile twitching at her lips, “Thank you. I really appreciate you guys including me.”
“Don’t be silly. We just feel bad it took three weeks to get us all together. Whenever your brother has an away game, Tea and I finally get to spend some time with Jenna. Don’t worry. Tea can be a really bad influence, just like me — when she wants to be. Follow me,” Aubrey ordered, walking with grace and ease toward the counter lining the open kitchen, where the woman they called ‘Tea’ was fussing with strawberries, mixers, rum, and a blender. She was stunning in her own way, shorter and more curvaceous than Aubrey, with full lips and big hazel eyes.
“Tea, we’ve got company, and she looks thirsty. Claude, would you like a daiquiri? Jenna bought a new blender for her and Wyatt’s place, so I got to keep this one. We’re celebrating with sugary 1980s girly drinks, so it was this or mudslides. You want one?”
Claudia hesitated, concerned at the prospect of what so much sugar and alcohol could do to her blood sugar.
“It’s okay if you want something else,” Tea said quickly. “I’m sure we can dig up some ingredients for a cocktail people actually drink in this decade.”
Irritation welled inside her. Jenna claimed to understand when Claudia told her she didn’t like people to know she was an insulin-dependent diabetic. Jenna wouldn’t really have told these girls without permission, would she? Claudia worried.
“No. It’s not a problem,” Claudia insisted. “I’ll have whatever you’re drinking. I just need to use your bathroom first?”
“Of course, right through there,” Aubrey answered and pointed down the hall. Claudia’s feet moved her forward, while her brain quickly worked its way through the familiar insulin game so many type 1 diabetics knew how to play. Surviving college with a moderately normal existence required she maneuver a world full of junk food and alcohol — a minefield where the only armor was a well-trained eye for sugars and a good insulin pump.