Page 14 of Mr Best Friend's Brother Grump

“Hey, chica,” Kendra says as she envelops me in one of her monumental hugs. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” I pull away and look at her. She’s as pretty as ever, but she now has an added layer of sophistication that suits her. “You would think that now we live in the same town, we would get to hang out all the time… but, no! Damit!” We laugh.

“Yes, Señorita I’m-Running-The-Show-Now Martinez,” Kendra says settling herself back on the stool. “I feel as if I’m the one who is being shelved.”

“Lies, lies, lies.” I brush her words away with my hands and we laugh some more. The waiter comes over to take our order.

“Two margaritas, por favor,” says Kendra, without consultation. “What?” she asks when she sees me looking wide-eyed. “That’s what you were going to ask for, wasn’t it?”

“Well, maybe. But it’s the only one,” I say with gravity. “I have a big day tomorrow.”

“Oooh, do tell.” Kendra leans forward on her elbows, giving me her full attention.

“A journalist from The New York Times Magazine is coming to do a piece about the Cuban community and wants to do and kind of ‘day in the life’ thing about the center.”

“That’s fantastic! Rosa, I’m so proud.”

“Thanks. He even read my article and said there’s a bigger story to tell with a wider appeal,” I say excitedly.

Kendra beams at me and shakes her head slowly from side to side. I can tell she is so happy for me. “Okay then. You need one fancy drink, some tacos, and an early night.”

“Yes ma’am.”

We talk about what Kendra has been up to. She tells me she is going to a conference in Washington for a few days.

“It sounds more exciting than it is,” she says. “It’s a requirement of Langwoods. They have their head office there. It just ticks a few boxes. I really just need to attend the meetings and workshops. Show my face and that’s about it.” She flies out in the morning but not too early.

I want to know about Nathan, but I don’t ask. If Kendra offers information, I have practiced a look that says, ‘I’m mildly interested because he is your brother, and he is nothing more to me than that. Ever.’ The cocktails arrive.

“There’s one more thing,” Kendra says. “And I hope you don’t mind.” I lean forward, thinking she’s about to tell me that Nathan is on his way and will join us for a cocktail. “Do you remember meeting Ingrid? She was one of the models at the photo shoot you helped out on.”

My heart sinks, but I try not to show it. “Ummm, vaguely,” I say, enjoying the salty rim of the frosty margarita glass.

“Well, I’ve seen her a couple of times recently and I think she could do with some solid girl support.” I wait for Kendra to continue. “She’s really down about her breakup with Nathan. She feels as if she’s made a terrible mistake and wants him back.”

I want to say something like, ‘There, there. Boo bloody hoo.’ But I don’t. I say, “Oh dear.” I try to arrange my face into an expression of concern.

“She’s so nice, Rosa! And generous,” Kendra goes on, although I really want her to shut up now. “And I think, if Nathan has half a brain, he will open his eyes and see what he’s given up and get back with her asap.” As I twirl a loose piece of hair and stir what’s left of my drink, sadly considering this idea, Kendra jumps up and says, “Ahh, here she is now.”

Kendra greets Ingrid who looks as if she has stepped out of a beauty salon or off the pages of a magazine. She has on huge dark, square-rimmed sunglasses, even though the sun went down a while ago. Her long hair is parted in the middle and hangs loose like a pair of curtains. She’s wearing a long camel-colored wool coat over a sheer white shirt and beige figure-hugging pants. Multiple strands of gold chain loop around her neck at varying lengths. She is the icon of drop-dead gorgeous. I compare Ingrid’s outfit with what I’m wearing and instantly regret it.

“Rosa! Hi,” says Ingrid reaching for me like a Death Star tractor beam. “When Kendra said you were coming tonight, well, that’s a two-for-one deal, right? Lucky me.” She air-kisses me at a distance, laughs, and pulls up a stool. She looks around, appraising. “What say we go someplace a bit more fancy?”

I’m just about to open my mouth and say, ‘You know, we like it here’ when Kendra chirps up with, “Yes. Let’s go. Where did you have in mind?”

I check my phone and make excuses about getting back and having an early night before my big day.

“Well, you are allowed to have a life outside work, aren’t you? And Kendra tells me you’ve been doing so well in your job,” Ingrid says with one of her front-cover smiles. “Ladies, I think we should celebrate little successes in life, no matter how small, don’t you?” She bestows her glow onto Kendra and then me. “In fact, this was the subject of my podcast last week.” She pauses and smiles to herself for a moment. Then, she says with renewed vigor, “Let’s go. My treat. What do you say?”

Kendra is looking at me as if I have thrown a bucket of water on her birthday cake. I feel like I’m a big fat stick in the mud, party pooper. I swallow the bitter pill of jealousy as I witness Ingrid hijacking my precious one-on-one time with my best friend. I squirm in a conflicting pang, as I’m made to look like the less-than-generous mean girl. Come on Rosa! What is wrong with you?

“Alright then. Just one drink. It’ll be fun.” I say forcing a smile and grabbing my bag.

Down on street level, Ingrid hails a cab. She has absolutely no difficulty in getting one to stop for her. The contrast between us is thrown into stark relief on the Manhattan street and a derisive snort escapes from me, which I cleverly turn into a cough.

“Ah, sweetie, is that your allergy again? Have you seen a doctor about it? You should, you know. It could be something as basic as your… diet.” Ingrid looks me up and down before she opens the taxi’s rear passenger door and climbs in. Kendra follows, and I briefly think this is my chance to escape when Kendra grabs my hand and pulls me in after her.

Ingrid leans forward to tell the driver the address, then settles back into the seat. She says something to Kendra that I can’t hear. The traffic noise muffles their conversation. I gaze out of the window at the night-time pedestrians hurrying along, up and down the sidewalk.

---