good day (91)

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Courtney grinned from ear to ear. "No more men who drive Mercedes."
"Or who wear Rolex's." Steph started to feel alive again.
"Or who drink champagne." Courtney downed a sip of her diet soda. Mischief danced in her dark eyes. "Give me a down to earth man who guzzles beer."
The spirit grabbed Steph good luck (56), rejuvenating her. "Give me a man who wears boots!"
Courtney slapped her thigh. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Steph couldn't help but crack a smile. "Let's catch ourselves a couple of cowboys."
"Yahoo!" Courtney crossed the room and turned on the computer.
Steph followed her newport cigarettes website, staring over her shoulder. Her friend went straight to the Ultimate Travel Agency's booking page.
"I like Texas style. That okay with you?" Courtney's fingers flew over the keyboard as she hummed Mickey Gilley's tune, Looking For Love in All the Wrong Places.
"Sounds yummy. But no big cities. Nothing remotely like New York."
"Don't worry. I'm in the mood for a little two-stepping and wrestling in the hay." Courtney paused Beats Studio, looking up at her. "Can you get off work for two weeks now? I'll have Suzie reschedule all my appointments or give them to Glenn." Courtney was a psychologist and could pretty much set her own schedule.
"Tony owes me two years vacation. I'll tell him to give me two weeks now or pay me severance plus vacation pay." Big words said with lots of bravado.
"You go girl." Courtney thrust the phone into her hands.
"You mean now?" Steph's voice cracked, hoarse. Bother her boss at home on the weekend? He'd kill her. Suddenly she didn't feel so brave. Rent was pretty high and she still owed student loans . . .