Nina was gone for less than an hour before bursting back through the door. She pulled up her seat again and planted her elbows on the table.
“Listen to this.” She read from her phone. “Mega Eats will be dismissing their complaint against Alice Sullivan and Kiana Jackson. It has come to our company’s attention that thePortland supply chainwasn’t strong enough to support thevolume of customer demand.”
She couldn’t have looked more excited if lightning bolts were sparking off her shoulders.
“Does that mean…?” Kia began.
“We’re…?” Sullivan didn’t finish the question.
“Free. Clear. Done with that bullshit. Yes!” Nina said.
“They don’t think they’ll be able to sell enough slime burgers in Portland?” Kia asked. “Or was it the snake?”
“It was the snake lovers,” Nina said.
“They don’t want to look like they’re destroying the earth,” Kia surmised.
“Nope. And based on what we’re seeing online, the publicity would bebad. Period. The snake is adorable if you like that sort of thing.” Nina gave Sullivan a pointed look. “And with so many people rallying around something that looks like the best Ralph Lauren belt this season… it’s too much bad press.” Sullivan was pretty sure no one had rallied around the snake because it looked like a Ralph Lauren belt, but you never knew. And it didn’t matter.
“We won.” She wanted to kiss Kia with lips and tongue and her whole body, but that seemed inappropriate in front of her friends. She clasped Kia’s hands instead. “We beat Mega Eats.”
Kia squeezed her hands, bouncing in her seat. “By way more than point six percent!”
chapter 38
Their celebration lastedinto the evening and seemed to involve most of Portland. They started with a bottle of champagne at the Makers Bar.
“So glad you’ve moved on to champagne,” the waiter said. “Congratulations.”
Then they went to a lavish dinner at the ridiculously overpriced but truly fantastic restaurant Apollo and Diana. Nina’s treat. Kia ordered fern fronds with house-distilled balsamic glaze. Sullivan ordered a drink with cotton candy floating like a cloud around the biodegradable paper straw. By six, they were at the Tennis Skort, and by seven the She-Pack was there, sweaty from practice. Deja brought her friend Not A Hacker But. Me’shell and her daughter arrived with a half a dozen other food truck owners, followed by the waitstaff from Mirepoix. Blake showed up.
“I deleted Mickey’s account,” he said over the clamor of voices.
“I think Mickey will be okay with that,” Sullivan said and gave him a hug.
Maybe she wouldn’t have to fire him.
Just when Sullivan thought it couldn’t get more festive, the burlesque troupe paraded by the window in their dancing snake puppet costume.
Kia stood beside Sullivan, her hand tucked in Sullivan’s back pocket, Sullivan’s arm around her shoulder.
“You could live stream this on Serve the World PDX,” Kia said. “It’d play really well. Activism is fun. By saving the snakes, you’re part of this beautiful diverse community. I know we’re supposed to save the snake for the snake, but people are motivated by a lot of things.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being motivated by community.” Sullivan looked at the crowd. She couldn’t stop smiling. One of the She-Pack women was explaining how to drink beer out of a cleat to an activist who—despite their shaved head and militant outfit—looked horrified. Deja was flashing a QR code on her phone that took people to the Save the Snake website Not a Hacker But had set up.
Kia texted everything to her cousin, who texted back at lightning speed even though she was in Paris.
“She wants a picture of you and me,” Kia said, leaning over to sip on Sullivan’s straw.
Then they took half a dozen bad selfies, their smiles wide and the angles all wrong. Kia sent them all to Lillian.
Sullivan heard Opal whisper, “They’re so cute.”
Nina said, “They’re frickin’ adorable, but don’t tell them I said it.”
And Sullivan even live streamed a bit of the celebration.
“Let’s go outside and see the massive Oregon snake,” Sullivan said to the hearts that were popping up on the screen as she live streamed.
