The day I met up with Linda at the trade show, a sharp, sudden shower hit Miami out of nowhere.
We ducked into the convention center's café to wait out the downpour.
She ordered two espressos, slid one across the table for me, and stared hard for a good few seconds. "You look so different. Last time we saw each other, was it, what, seven years ago? You looked so washed out back then. You were wearing all these fancy designer clothes, but you looked like you were shrinking inside them. Now…" She waved a hand vaguely in my direction. "You look like someone finally let you out of a box."
I laughed. "Got divorced."
Linda's eyes went wide, then she lifted her coffee cup with a whoop. "Hell, that calls for a toast. So you're actually serious about starting that brand of yours?"
"Dead seri
