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Angela looked around the busy nightclub—filled with well-dressed young professionals out for a night of letting off steam—and wondered how she let Therese and Dalia talk her into going out on a Friday night. Having just returned from Hawaii a few days ago, the loud music and red lighting of The Room—a “no-sign-enter-through-the-rear-door” club—was jarring. Although usually one of her favorite places to go for a night of dancing, after almost three weeks of being on slow-paced island time, she was still adjusting to being back in L.A.
She would have preferred to stay home, have her usual date night phone call with Soren, and curled up in bed; but it was her birthday, and her friends had demanded a night on the town to celebrate.
In order to get into the party mood, she had on one of her favorite dresses from Barcelona— a floaty, white, knee-length frock printed with red and black flowers, with a red grosgrain ribbon tied at the waist—hoping it would put her in the mood to dance. She loved how the lettuce hem brushed against her legs when she moved.
The Room was an intimate, loungey club, with a tiny dance floor and a DJ who was always on point. The catchy and soulful Justin Timberlake song Cry Me A River, was pulsing over the speakers, as a dozen bodies gyrated gracefully on the dance floor.
Angela watched the dancers with interest; it was not an easy song to dance to, but the—mostly female—souls brave enough to try were doing a good job.
Angela swished the twists of lime around the weak cosmopolitan Dalia had ordered for her. Ever since Sex and the City had come out, it seemed like the only thing women drank anymore were cosmos, and she hated them. She wondered if the bar had any sake; it was unlikely, but worth a shot. She took a sip from her martini glass and tried not to make a face. How does anyone drink this stuff?
“I’m tired of cosmos,” Therese said over the corner booth table.
Angela nodded as she looked at her old friend. Therese looked stunning, her straight blonde hair in a high ponytail, a sequined, blush-colored mini dress—that looked both sexy and demure at the same time—hanging from her slender, athletic frame.
For the millionth time in her life, Angela thought about how women with small boobs had all the luck when it came to clothes. With her knockers, she couldn’t look demure in a potato sack.
“Is RJ coming?” Dalia asked, referring to their friend from business school who had been their third Musketeer.
Angela rolled her eyes. “No! That guy is chained to his desk. You know I haven’t seen him since before Christmas?” She missed RJ a lot. After seeing each other nearly every day in business school, it was strange to go so long without seeing him in person.
“Yeah, me neither,” Dalia said as she shrugged.
Therese leaned in closer. “So when’s this Kieran guy coming?”
Angela practically spat out her drink. “What?”
Therese pointed to Dalia. “Dalia invited him. Didn’t she tell you?”
Angela turned to her left and narrowed her eyes at Dalia, who quickly grabbed her martini glass and took a long sip.
Dalia looked equally stunning, the sleeves of her cropped leather jacket pulled stylishly up her arms, tight black trousers, and cherry red lipstick completing her biker-chick-meets-gamine look. Her jet-black hair was cut in a Betty Page style that suited her elegant face.
Angela took a big sip of her drink and winced as it went down. She always knew that her best features were not her physical ones, but it was hard to feel confident when your two best friends were so beautiful.
She turned her stare back on Dalia. “Explain. Now.”
Dalia shrugged her shoulders. “You spend so much time with the guy. I figured you would want him at your birthday celebration.”
“Maybe it’s you who want him here,” Angela replied with a raised eyebrow, remembering how Kieran had asked for Dalia’s phone number. “Did he ever call you?”
Dalia’s eyes widened. “Yes. We’ve talked a few times, but I’m not sure he’s my type, even if his motorcycle is sick.”
Angela wasn’t sure she believed Dalia. Her friend wasn’t exactly picky when it came to men as good-looking as Kieran.
“Well I want to meet him. I’ve heard so much about him,” Therese said.
Angela shrugged like she didn’t care, even though her stomach was churning. She hadn’t spoken to Kieran since the night she found out about her grandfather and he saw her become an emotional basket case. She’d been meaning to call him ever since she got back, but was concerned things might be awkward between them.
Before she could dwell on those thoughts, Dalia nudged Angela with her elbow. “He’s here.” Dalia leaned closer to Therese. “He’s the one in all black, wearing the motorcycle jacket, Therese. The one with the Superman curl.”
Angela turned and followed Dalia’s gaze. The moment she laid eyes on Kieran, her heart started beating faster. She remembered the feeling of his arms around her and her face flushed hotly. She nervously raised her eyes to his, wondering what his expression might reveal. When he caught her gaze, he gave her his usual sly smile without a hint of awkwardness. She sighed heavily.
“That’s Kieran?” Therese asked, her voice going up an octave.
“Yeah, why?” Angela asked.
Therese frowned, giving Kieran a double take as he continued to walk across the floor towards them. “You don’t see the resemblance?” she asked in an urgent hiss.
Angela looked quickly at Kieran and then back at Therese. “What are you talking about?”
Therese lowered her voice. “He looks a lot like Rai.”
Angela exhaled as if she’d been punched in the gut. Therese had helped her pick up the pieces of her heart and life after Rai. She was the only person who truly knew just how dark those days had been. Before she could dwell on Therese’s words, Kieran arrived at their table. Why didn’t I stay home tonight?
“Hey ladies. It looks like the party is going strong here. Hi Dalia,” he said, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek.
Angela still hadn’t recovered from Therese’s words and felt like she was watching something happening far away. Suddenly, a stubbly cheek brushed against her cheek and she was enveloped by the smell of campfire, Kieran’s scent.
“Hi Angie,” he said quietly.
She struggled to smile. He narrowed his eyes at her and frowned. “Hi Kieran,” she managed to eek out.
“I’m Therese.” Therese half-stood and stuck out her hand, leaning over the table.
“Hi. Kieran. Nice to meet you,” he replied.
Kieran put a white envelope, with a chartreuse border, on the table, took off his leather jacket and placed it next to Dalia. “I’m going to grab a beer. Anyone need a refill?”
Dalia drained her martini glass. “Yes please. Another cosmo, thanks.”
Angela and Therese shook their heads and Kieran left for the bar.
Dalia rounded on Angela. “Dude, what’s up with you? And who’s Rai?”
“What? Nothing’s up. I’m just tired that’s all. Jet lag.” Angela pretended to yawn.
“Jet lag? Hawaii is three hours behind L.A. You should be wide awake.” Dalia arched a brow.
“Dalia doesn’t know about Rai?” Therese asked quietly.
Angela shook her head. She couldn’t do this in public. She didn’t trust herself to say his name in private, let alone in a room full of strangers. “Can we not talk about this now?” she asked, her voice pleading.
Therese and Dalia shared a meaningful glance and said nothing. Angela sat in silence trying not to think about Rai.
“Your cosmo madam.” Kieran set Dalia’s drink down with a flourish as he took a sip from his beer bottle and scooted into the booth next to her. Therese and Angela scooted down to make room. Kieran took another swig and surveyed the three women. “Why are you all so quiet?”
Dalia was the first to recover. “No reason. So how’s that Triumph of yours? I believe you owe me a ride.”
He smiled. “Any time, just not tonight. I didn’t bring the extra helmet.”
Therese chimed in, “You drive a motorcycle?”
Kieran nodded. “Yeah. I decided to simplify my life a while back, and only keep the things I love. I never really liked having a car so I got rid of it.”
Therese shot a look at Angela. Angela pretended not to notice. She fingered the edge of the envelope in order to deflect. “What’s this?” she asked Kieran.
His eyes lit up. “It’s your birthday present. Open it.” He gave her an encouraging smile.
His smile made her feel better and she took a deep breath. She gingerly stuck her finger under the edge of the paper and lifted the flap. She pulled out a thick piece of card stock, white with the same chartreuse border, with the words “Asia de Cuba” printed on it. It was a gift certificate for $300. She felt tears prick in the corner of her eyes, but she was unsure if it was because of the thoughtful gift or the pent-up thoughts about Rai.
Dalia whistled lowly. “Nice gift. I love Asia de Cuba. Have you been?” she asked Kieran.
He shook his head. “No, but it sounds like the perfect place for our little China Latina,” he said with his perfect Spanish accent—he was fully bilingual—tilting his head towards Angela.
Asia de Cuba was a hot restaurant known for its fusion of Asian and Latin foods, set in the luxuriously modern Mondrian hotel on L.A.’s famous Sunset Strip, right next to the always-crowded Sky Bar. People went to Asia de Cuba to see and be seen.
It was a scene as much as it was a fine dining restaurant.
Angela couldn’t help but smile at Kieran. It really was the perfect gift for her. “Thanks Kieran, I love it. It’s very generous of you.”
He waved her compliment off. “I had a stroke of inspiration. I hope you enjoy it.”
Dalia turned quickly from Angela to Kieran. “You should go together. Angela, why don’t you take Kieran to Asia de Cuba? He’s never been.”
Kieran looked as caught off guard as Angela felt. He shook his head. “You should take whomever you want with you.”
Therese cleared her throat and turned to Kieran. “So you own a children’s bookstore?”
Kieran nodded, looking relieved at the change of topic. “Yeah, it’s on Melrose. It’s called Jabberwocky. I stock eclectic, hard-to-find, artsy types of books, as well as the more traditional best sellers. But every book has to be strong in terms of the illustrations and the language. I don’t do cute books with horrible writing.” He paused and turned to Angela. “Angela’s book is going to be a perfect fit.”
Kieran’s compliment sent a warm glow through Angela. She turned to Therese. “It’s a magical place. You should check it out.”
Therese was about to say something when Pink’s Get the Party Started came on and Dalia stood up. “I love this song? Anyone want to dance?” Dalia asked, gesturing to the group.
Therese shrugged. “Sure, I’ll join you.”
Angela and Kieran both shook their heads.
Kieran got up to let Dalia out of the booth and then scooted closer to Angela. Angela moved slightly to her right as Therese left the booth, suddenly self-conscious.
“Therese seems nice. She was your college roommate, right?” Kieran asked as his eyes followed her onto the dance floor.
Angela nodded. “Yes. We met the first day of undergrad. It was love at first sight.” She laughed lightly.
The ends of Kieran’s mouth lifted up into a semblance of a smile, but his eyes remained serious. “I’m glad you’re back. It felt like you were gone forever.”
Angela was grateful for the red lighting knowing that her blushing cheeks wouldn’t be visible. She fidgeted with the neckline of her dress. “It’s good to be back. My grandfather was doing really well when I left, and I wasn’t making any progress on the Los Leones manuscript, so I felt like it was time to return.” She took a sip of her cosmo and winced.
He glanced at her martini glass. “Can I get you some water?”
Angela nodded. “Yes please. I would love that. Dalia is always trying to get me drunk.” She massaged her temples; the edges of the room seemed softer.
Kieran quickly returned with a tall glass of water, no ice, twist of lemon, just how she liked it.
She drank thirstily. “Thanks. I needed that.”
Dalia and Therese returned, laughing and flushed from their dancing. They pulled at Angela and Kieran. “Come on, join us.”
Kieran shrugged helplessly and reached for Angela’s hand. She placed it in his and they allowed themselves to be dragged onto the dance floor as Nelly’s It’s Getting Hot in Here began playing.
Angela’s first genuine laugh of the evening bubbled up in her throat as she watched her friends mouth the words to the kinetic song and joined in the dancing. She closed her eyes and raised her arms in the air—swaying like a church lady on Sunday—allowing the pulsing rhythm to carry her.
Dalia and Therese took turns sidling up to her and shimmying up and down as if she was the lead singer and they were her back-up dancers.
Before the song was over, Angela’s mood had lifted considerably.
It was fun to be out with her friends, and Kieran was a surprisingly good dancer.
He took turns dancing with Therese and Dalia, always maintaining an appropriate distance. Although he frequently held Angela’s gaze—giving her friendly smiles—he never tried to dance with her; she wasn’t completely sure how she felt about that. However, it was nice to see how well he fit in with her friends; he was like one of the girls. The thought made Angela miss RJ again.
After a few more songs, the four of them tumbled back into the booth laughing and sweaty.
“That was fun!” Therese said as she finished her drink.
“Can I get you something else?” Kieran asked.
Therese nodded. “A glass of the house red. Thanks.”
“I’ll have a shot of tequila,” Dalia said as she raised her glass, her pinkie finger high in the air, and finished the last of her martini.
“Oh, that sounds good. I’ll join you on that,” Kieran answered. He turned to Angela, “Anything for you?”
“Sake if they have it. If not, just some more water. I’m still working on this cosmo here,” Angela replied, lifting the warm cocktail to her mouth; drinking it solely for the buzz.
No sooner had Kieran left then Therese whisper-shouted across the table. “Holy crap he’s hot.”
Angela rolled her eyes as Dalia nodded emphatically.
“Yup. Sex on a stick that one is,” Dalia said.
“Okay Yoda,” Angela said sarcastically.
Dalia shrugged. “What? I’m just stating the obvious.”
“Look, I work with the guy. Can we just keep the conversation a little less locker room? It’s kind of gross.” Angela pleaded.
Dalia started. “Gross? When did you get so prissy? Besides, this is far from locker room—”
Therese interrupted her, “We know what you mean,” she said, emphasizing the word “we” as she gave Dalia a pointed look. “We will be on our best behavior.”
Dalia harrumphed and played with her bangs.
“So Ange, did you and Soren talk about London while you were in Hawaii?” Therese asked as she took a sip of Angela’s water.
Angela scowled. She hated it when Therese did that. Ever since they lived together in college, Therese would eat off her plate and drink from her glass. She wiped the rim of her glass with the cocktail napkin. Therese didn’t even notice. Angela cocked her head. “Yes and no.”
Dalia scowled. “What does that mean?”
Angela shrugged. “It means that it came up in conversation, but that we didn’t resolve anything. Actually, the most that was said about it was when I thanked him for not bringing it up and he told me to take my time.”
Dalia whistled lowly just as Kieran returned with the drinks. “What did I miss?” he asked.
“Angela told Soren that she hasn’t decided to move to London yet, and he said that’s fine,” Dalia answered. She clinked her shot glass against Kieran’s and drained it.
Angela coughed, practically choking on the sip she just took. She covered her mouth with her hand to avoid spraying it across the table. Therese thumped Angela on the back firmly.
“Okay, okay. Enough.” Angela turned to Therese and gave her a sharp look.
Therese held her arms up in defense. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
“Are you okay?” Kieran asked as he put her water down.
“Yeah. It just went down the wrong pipe.” She smiled weakly as she grabbed the cocktail napkin under her drink and dabbed at her mouth and hands.
She took a long sip of water and thought back to her last morning with Soren in Hawaii.
He checked out early from his hotel, and she picked him up, driving to Diamond Head in the pink-black of dawn, to hike to the ridge before the sun rose. They shared a beautiful embrace admiring the view of Waikiki with the sun rising behind them.
Soren suggested that they pick up coffee and malasadas at Leonard’s—he had loved them once he ate one—and went back to her grandparents’ house where they had breakfast with her family. Much to her surprise, Soren had grown very comfortable with her boisterous family. He seemed to revel in the chaotic energy.
He had a car pick him up to take him to the airport in the early afternoon.
Her eyes became misty as they said their farewells. “I’m glad that we already have our next visit planned. Let’s never say ‘goodbye’ without having our next ‘hello’ scheduled, okay?” she asked earnestly.
He kissed her forehead. “That’s a great idea. I’ll see you in six weeks for my graduation. I can’t wait. And this time, you’ll get to meet my family. Although I’m afraid they aren’t as lively as yours.” He made a small grimace.
“Right?” Kieran asked, his voice crashing through Angela’s reverie.
Angela looked around before she realized he was talking to her. “What?”
“I said, ‘That’s good that he’s letting you take your time, right?’” he asked again.
She nodded as she took a gulp from her water; her reminiscing about Soren had made her flushed again. Their attraction was incredible; she couldn’t ever remember having chemistry like this before.
It was distracting.
Dalia rolled her eyes. “It’s not the right thing to do; it’s the only thing to do. What kind of ass would demand that a woman move around the world to a country where she has no friends or family, no way of making money, no support network? If she’s going, she’s going on her terms.” She slammed her palm down on the table.
Angela gave Dalia a pained smile. “I have some friends there. Don’t forget, Marco’s there.”
“Yeah but we aren’t there,” Dalia said, gesturing between her and Therese with her index finger.
Angela looked at her two friends and her heart ached. Therese and Dalia were like sisters to her, soulmates. It would be horrible not living in the same city as them.
The realization hit her hard.
“What do your parents think about you moving to London?” Therese asked.
A chill ran up Angela’s spine as she wiped the condensation off her glass. “Nothing,” she said evasively.
“Nothing? That’s not the Lillian and—wait a second,” Therese said, eyes widening. She cast a suspicious eye at Angela. “You haven’t told them, have you?” She said the words slowly, accusatorially. It was a tactic Angela had seen her use in the courtroom.
Angela pursed her lips and shook her head subtly.
“You haven’t told them?” Dalia and Kieran said simultaneously.
Angela’s eyes widened as she held up her palms defensively. “Jeez. No. I haven’t told them.”
Silence descended on the group. Angela knew her friends were waiting for her to speak, but she wasn’t sure what to say. “Look, I don’t know why I haven’t told them, okay? But I don’t see any reason to say anything unless I’m seriously thinking about going.”
“Does that mean you aren’t seriously thinking about going?” Dalia asked. “Because if so, this is news to me. I thought you were really considering it.”
Angela shook her head. “No. I’ve never once thought I’d be moving to London this summer...or any other time this year. It just doesn’t feel right...yet,” she added as an afterthought.
It was the first time she said the words aloud, but they felt truthful.
Her heart ached for how much she knew it would hurt Soren.
“I guess we’ll talk about it more when I go to Barcelona in May for Soren’s graduation.” Angela took another sip of her cosmo, feeling the sweet liquid burn its way down her throat.
Kieran and Dalia exchanged a glance before Dalia whooped loudly. “Well I for one am in the mood to celebrate. I just found out that my best friend is not moving to London—”
“Yet!” Angela said, holding up her finger.
Dalia nodded rapidly, clearly a little tipsy. “Yet. Whatever. I’ll take it. Let’s dance!” She pointed to Kieran’s shot glass, which he drained immediately, and the two of them headed back to the dance floor.
Therese and Angela watched their friends silently as Therese sipped on her red wine. “Hey Ange. I don’t want to ruin the celebratory mood, but can I ask you something?”
Angela turned to her old friend and saw the genuine concern in her eyes. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Soren is the first man you’ve really fallen for since...well, since college.”
Angela exhaled, relieved she hadn’t said his name again.
Therese continued, “I know it’s been hard for you to trust a man since Peter,” she said, referring to the man who swooped in after Rai. “But have you noticed that the first man you are really interested in is someone who’s essentially unavailable to you?”
Angela furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
Therese hesitated, her eyes uncertain.
Angela narrowed her eyes. “Therese, spit it out.”
Therese shrugged. “It seems like you are picking Soren because you know it can’t work. It makes you feel safe in a way because there will always be a distance between you. There is less to lose, especially since you aren’t moving there.”
Angela shook her head. “I didn’t pick him Therese, it just happened.”
Therese sighed. “You are picking him Angela, when you could pick someone else who is also great and has the added benefit of living in Los Angeles.” She jerked her head to the dance floor.
Angela was momentarily confused before her eyes landed on Kieran. She frowned and turned back toward Therese. “He’s a business associate,” she said dismissively. When Therese rolled her eyes she added, “And a friend.”
Therese raised her palms in defense. “Look, I’ll just say this and then I’ll shut up. Kieran is a great guy and he’s clearly into you. From what you’ve told me, he’s gone above and beyond in helping you with your book, and what ‘friend’ gives a $300 gift certificate to one of the hottest restaurants in town? It’s clearly a backdoor way to get you out on a date.”
Angela opened her mouth to speak, but Therese narrowed her eyes warningly. Angela huffed out of the corners of her mouth. Friggin’ lawyer.
“And Kieran is here Ange,” Therese said, pressing her index finger into the table. “Don’t even pretend like you would be happy leaving L.A. I know how much you love it here.” Therese paused dramatically, allowing her words to sink in. “But maybe you don’t want to give Kieran a chance because he’s here. You would be putting too much on the line.”
Angela scowled.
“And finally,” Therese continued as if she was summarizing for the Supreme Court, “You haven’t told your parents. Don’t you think there’s a reason you haven’t told them?” She arched an eyebrow at Angela as if to make her point.
Angela cocked her head, wondering if it was okay to speak.
Therese held up her palm and shook her head. She ended with a soft plea. “Don’t answer me yet; just think about it, okay?” She put her hand over Angela’s, and gave her a concerned, pitiable look.
Angela’s shoulders fell as she sighed. She didn’t want to think any more about London tonight. Tonight she just wanted to enjoy herself.
She turned her head to the dark dance floor and watched Dalia and Kieran move beneath the flickering lights. The slight buzz she had from her cosmo combined nicely with the ambient noise of the lounge allowing her to feel desensitized, disconnected, as if she was floating in a pool of warm water.
It felt nice.
