Page 34 of Mr Best Friend's Brother Grump

I’m packed and ready. I have all my bags with me when I meet Rosa at The Turkish Kitchen. She waves to me from a table in the far corner. Her face lights up when she sees me, but then the light goes out when her eyes drop to my bags. We greet each other with a warm hug. I dump my baggage and hold her. She feels so good, I don’t want to let her go. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since the awards night. She’s dressed down tonight, in jeans and sweatshirt, which suits me fine. She’s so beautiful, she would look great wearing a sack.

“Hi,” I finally say as I release my hold and sit down on the bench seat beside Rosa. “How have you been?”

Rosa reaches for my hand and kisses it, then tells me about her week: the funny things that have happened in her apartment block and the updates at the center.

“The mural is looking great,” she says. “And the plans for the official unveiling party are coming together.” Rosa smiles up at me. “I have a brilliant team of volunteers, but there’s still a million things to do.”

“Ah great! I’m sure you have everything under control. It’ll be amazing, because you are amazing,” I say, kissing her again. “Am I invited?”

“Of course, you are my plus one.” Rosa scoots closer to me. I put my arms around her and kiss her. And keep kissing her until she breaks away and says, nodding towards my heaped-up bags, “Are you going to photograph our falafel wraps?”

“No. No, I have a job in Los Angeles.” I check the time on my phone. “It was supposed to be in a couple of days, but the date got brought forward, so…”

“Ah, okay. That’s why the early dinner, huh?”

“Yeah, I need to get going soon.”

Rosa doesn’t say anything but stares straight ahead. I tell her I’ll be back in a few days. We’ll pick up where we left off, right? It’s the nature of this line of work. Rosa nods, slowly, but the warmth has gone from The Turkish Kitchen. I’m desperate to get it back and start talking about random things.

The precious minutes whoosh passed. We don’t really have time to eat. I check the time again and get my falafel wrap to go. Suddenly, we are on the sidewalk and I’m waving down a cab to take me to the airport. A taxi pulls over and I load my stuff. We kiss before I slide into the backseat. Rosa passes me my camera bag.

“I’ll call you, okay?” I say through the open window. “It’s just a couple of weeks.”

Rosa doesn’t say anything, but waves to me as the cab merges with the traffic on the way to JFK. I watch her until she is out of sight.

There’s a strange ache in my chest as I move further away from Rosa toward the airport. She looks small and vulnerable on the sidewalk. It’s as if I’ve abandoned her. A wave of panic sweeps through me. I suddenly feel compelled to yell, Stop! at the driver and tell him to turn around because I can’t possibly leave the city, or the woman I love.

Well, there it is. The ‘L’ word. Out in the open.

Chapter 29

Rosa

Kendra’s words ring in my ears as I watch Nathan’s cab disappear into the night-time stream of cars, trucks, buses, bikes, and taxis. I’m not sure how long I stood there on the sidewalk outside The Turkish Kitchen, but eventually, I shook off the trance that was rooting me to the spot, and I walked to the bus stop feeling sad and alone.

Is this the life I want? I knew all about Nathan, and how he is, when I kissed him. I should just accept that as fact. Or I should be clear with him, sooner rather than later, that perhaps I had made a mistake. I laugh at myself as I wait for the bus to Bergenline Avenue. What the hell, Rosa! Should have thought of that before you accepted Nathan’s invitation to drinks after the awards, girl. What did you think was going to happen? You, all dressed up, sexy as all hell, and him so, so attractive in his suave tuxedo and bow tie, just like James Bond, only better looking. Now look what you’ve done. Did you think that you could kiss Nathan Ellis, your best friend’s brother, award-winning photographer, and things would be just tickety-boo? Ha!

The bus pulls in. Doors open. People get out. People get on. I almost forget to get on, I’m so lost in my thoughts. I sit down and allow the rocking motion to soothe my turbulent mind. I want to talk to Kendra about what’s going on, but that’s probably not a good idea, considering Nathan hasn’t said if he has talked to her yet.

I pull my phone from my bag and dial Tia’s number. A talk with Grandma usually does the trick. Her phone clicks straight to voicemail. Disappointed, I look out of the window at the passing parade of street life. I begin typing a message to Nathan. Then instantly delete it. What did I want to say? I don’t actually know.

I decide to talk with Nathan when he gets back from Los Angeles. It’s not the sort of conversation I want to have on the phone. But then, I think, why am I being so uptight about a kiss? Why am I attaching so much importance and meaning to it? It was just a kiss and not a contract. I am a grown woman and not a silly schoolgirl, so why am I riding an emotional rollercoaster? My happiness does not depend on male attention. I should be more mature. More in charge of my destiny. More cool.

I retrieve my phone again and scroll through magazine articles to get some clues on how to be in this situation.

There’s one that discusses dating versus relationship. Know where you are on the scale of ‘exclusivity’. Well, what the hell does that even mean?

When you meet someone you’re attracted to, don’t think you need to stop looking for Mr Right. Cast your net wide. Be open to date a different guy depending on the day of the week and your outfit choice. A few dates down the line you can decide if you want to turn the dating into a relationship. Then you can have the conversation about the ‘mutual exclusive clause’ and move along to your happily-ever-after or not.

I am plunged into depression after reading this. Where was the romance? Where was the love? The 'mutually exclusive clause'? What about the feeling of an inner knowing? That in a magical moment, the man I kissed already had my heart. There was no negotiation. I was already signed, sealed, and delivered. Was I just being foolish wanting more than Nathan could give?

I’m still weighing up my options when the bus drives through my neighborhood. After the Big Apple awards night and the elevator kiss, I had wild imaginings of me being all loved up and feeling on top of the world, wafting around in a pretty pink love bubble. But the opposite is true. I don’t feel good at all.

I close out of the magazine app as the bus pulls in and stops. It's still early. I’m restless and I don’t want to go back to my apartment just yet. I point my feet to the dance studio. There’s an advanced salsa class about to start. I’ll dance my troubles away. Salsa is my happy place, after all.

I can hear music as I climb the stairs. Raul is presiding. He turns down the volume and welcomes everyone to class with three loud hand claps. His bossy, heavily accented voice resounds. “Places, por favor. Boys here, girls over there. Bueno.”

I take off my jacket and dump it, with my bag, on one of the chairs around the sides of the dance floor. I find a space with a group of women of varying ages. We stand opposite the mirror. I recognize some of the faces and smile, nod, and mouth, ‘hola’.

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