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“Not possible, Brooke.” Edith says in her professional voice, as if she is a doctor giving a diagnosis. “He is too good looking.”
“I get what you mean, Edith.” Sylvia continues the façade of idiotic logic. “I cannot imagine someone like him at an axe store buying an axe?”
Edith needs little encouragement. “You mean like he is pushing a trolley with a giant axe in it and waiting in line to check out?”
I put an end to the show. “Shut the fuckup you two.”
Then Sylvia returns the conversation from crazy to normal. “The rooftop infinity pool is a private area for the super-rich. There will be other people there. A full bar, kitchen, security, staff …”
“I don’t know…” I say truthfully.
“You know what?” says Edith with a hint of irritation. “This is what I was talking about earlier, Brooke. You have this thing in you. It’s on autopilot.”
“What?” I am defensive.
“Anything exciting or good and you become Brooke the No Sayer. Back in NYC, the guy from the gym, the nice dude from the coffee shop, you just keep backing off. And tonight, when every woman in Hawaii wishes to be with that handsome hunk, and here you are, you get this invite and you …”
She is right. She is so annoying to me right now… but I love she cares.
“Okay, let’s do this.” I say, shutting her up.
Edith’s mouth falls open. She is so accustomed to lecturing me without impact. She can’t believe I listen to her. I am surprising myself, as my heart is racing. It could be the drinks, it could be the raw honesty of Edith, the steady presence of Sylvia, that we only have two nights left… “But you both are coming with me.”
We are wearing our bathing suits underneath our dresses.
Sylvia is getting excited. “It’s a pool area Brooke, we don’t need to dress up.” I am suddenly glad I included them.
Edith is giddy, her voice is high pitched. “Don’t overthink. No more analysis. Let’s just pay the priest and go.” We have another laugh at that young man’s expense. This time, our laughter has an element of anxiety. First, other than that, he looks like an angel from heaven. We know nothing about him. And then going by the note, not all three of us have been invited.
He specifically mentioned my name, which just puts me in the center of things, and I am not the type who enjoys being in the middle of it all. But one thing is decided, I am not showing up without my girls. He wants to see me; he better deal with my friends.
Handsome as you may be, Mr. Gorgeous, we girls are united.
THE ROOFTOP
BROOKE
“Push it Brooke,” orders Edith. “Just push it.”
I am in the elevator hesitating to push the ‘Roof Top’ button. It’s the beautiful glass elevator attached to the outside of the hotel for a gorgeous view of the Pacific. I had pretended to be brave earlier, but doubts have returned.
Brooke the No Sayer is back.
Why am I going? Just because he wrote me a note. Because he is undeniably the most handsome creature I have ever seen? Am I desperate?
A group of five, well-dressed people enter the elevator and one of them, in a white summer jacket, pushes the Roof top button. Suddenly the elevator is crowded, which I find strangely comforting.
“Can you hit Rooftop please,” says one of the women in an elegant evening knee high cotton dress.
“Love your handbag!” says Sylvia and now they are chatting. “We have an invitation, so we thought we would check it out.”
“Oh, you’ll love it,” says the woman. “Very similar to the rooftops of Singapore.”
“Oh, that’s good,” says Edith with all the confidence of a conman. She has not been to Singapore. None of us have. The conversation spreads, with them revealing that they also attended the Handbag convention.
“How come we are not moving?” says Sylvia, looking at me.
She damn well knows I have not pushed the button yet, but now she has the whole crowded elevator looking at me with expectations.
