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“So, then he thinks I’m out on a date tonight and because you’re home from New York visiting that you’re my cover. If he wasn’t my brother, I would have kicked him in the balls for being such a condescending prick.” I haven’t finished blowing off steam since I got to the restaurant.
Zara, being the amazing friend she is, just lets me go. She’s been nodding and agreeing with everything I’ve been complaining about—until now.
“You finished, got all the rage out? You know, so you can untwist those panties that are all tangled up tight.”
I groan at her while she just takes another mouthful of her dinner and smirks at me. “Okay, Miss Calm and Collected, just say it!” I never have to worry what I say to her because we’re so close that nothing is ever taken the wrong way.
“He might be useless in how he shows it, but Xavier is your brother, and he worries about you. He’s just being protective, that’s all, and he wants you to find happiness. He doesn’t want to see you alone.”
“I’m not alone!” Again, my snarky inner cow is speaking out.
“Mmhmm. So, the imaginary affair you’re having in your head with the man you’ve been fantasizing over all your life makes you attached and out of the dating game. Shit, sorry, I didn’t realize that’s how it works.” Zara pretends to slap herself on the forehead and we both start to giggle.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes at her. “I date other guys,” I say, trying to justify myself—very poorly, I might add.
“Reallllllyyyy? When?” Zara sits back in her chair and crosses her arms, really pushing me now.
“I’m not answering that because you know the response you will get. Besides, you’re supposed to be my best friend, not a pain like my brother.” I feel like all I’ve done all day is defend myself. No wonder I’m so exhausted.
“It’s because I’m your friend that I’m just pointing out the facts. It’s not like your dry spell is any worse than mine was. You know, when we talked about how we can grow old together and live in an old ladies’ home with all our cats, reliving the glory days and the men we lusted over but were too stupid to do anything about.”
“Umm, you did something about it.” I stare at her.
“It’s early days so we’ll see if he passes the test.” She smirks at me.
“Yeah, right,” I say, rolling my eyes.
Picking up our glasses of sparkling water, because we are that pathetic, we clink them together to toast our lifelong dreams.
“Cheers to becoming old ladies with dried-up wrinkled pussies,” Zara says with a straight face, but I can’t help spitting out the mouthful of water.
“That’s disgusting, Zara. You can’t say that after we said we’re going to be living with our cats. It’s just wrong on so many levels,” I try to say in between the choking coughs and the tears that are running down my face from laughing so hard.
“How the hell did we get here in the conversation?” Zara is trying to compose herself too.
“The same way we always do, we’re just that special.” Nodding at me, we both acknowledge our crazy friendship.
Looking around the restaurant, it feels like home. Whenever we go out for a quick catch-up, we end up here.Jasmina’swhich is about three quarters of the way down the street and tucked in between an Italian and a Mexican restaurant. Here we get healthy staple food with a twist. Jasmina, the owner and head chef, adds a twist of flavor that leaves you wanting more. The room is what I would call minimalistic. Just the right amount of décor, white with the touches of natural wood and live plants. No matter when we come, lunch or dinner, they always seem to fit us in, which shows we must eat here way too often. It’s good to have a place to eat that still helps us control our diet while the taste makes us feel like we’re eating at a five-star restaurant.
Tonight, it’s busy so the tables are all buzzing with conversation, which is good, because hopefully no one’s been listening to me nattering on all night.
Taking a deep breath and trying to settle down so I can act like the lady I’m supposed to be, my mind drifts off to the reason I’ve been so stressed out.
“I can’t believe you let him get away,” Zara says to me, because she can tell I’m thinking about Jordan. “That’s some serious self-control, woman.”
I can’t tell you what a relief it was to finally tell someone what had happened all those years ago. I knew the moment I met Zara that we shared a bond, and I was right. Our friendship is one that I know will be lifelong.
That first night we got together for dinner as friends outside of the gym, and many glasses of red wine later, she knew all my secrets and I knew hers. Since then, when it all gets to be too much, I know who I can turn to.
“Um, let’s talk about your self-control, instead. Who walks away from a guy that looks like Grant? Plus, he is a massive control freak—in a good way, of course. Imagine that in the bedroom, and yet you can still concentrate on your dancing? I mean, what he did in the dance studio that time was pretty fucking hot. I would’ve given in, for sure!”
The smile on Zara’s face, along with her pink cheeks, tells me how close she came to doing exactly that.
“Oh, I was holding on to my every item of clothing by the last little thread, I can assure you. And he knew that too, that’s why he was so cocky as he walked away.”
“Then why didn’t you just take the edge off the frustration? Surely it wouldn’t have hurt for one night.” The way she’s looking at me as I say it, I know what the answer is going to be already.
