CHAPTER 18

Allie

 

This coffee shop is the trendiest in town. Modeled in the early 90’s after the TV show Friends, with its own artsy twist, I almost feel like I’m in L.A., rather than South Street where shops sell everything from cheesesteaks to super-sized phalluses.

I adjust my position on the well-worn couch in the small seating area designed to mimic a cozy living room and check my emails. The light streaming in through the window makes it a little hard to read the screen, but I manage.

As per his request and Seamus’s encouragement, I’m meeting Andres. I like that Andres chose a public locale. As much as I think Valentina is aware of our meeting, I’d never want anyone to question my ethics.

I take a sip of my Americano, my go-to drink when I need to get piles of work done on very little sleep. Seamus and I fell asleep in each other’s arms following our very long talk. Neither of us planned it. It just happened, keeping each other warm with our bodies instead of the spread of blankets beneath us.

It wasn’t until the sun trickled through the stained-glass window, painting our faces in a kaleidoscope of blues and greens that we realized we’d slept until noon. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if we both weren’t hammered with work and late to client meetings.

“Oh, fuck,” were his exact words. I grin. But I could be wrong.

The next week consisted of more O’Brien festivities and finally Finn and Sol’s wedding. Finn and Sol haven’t had it easy, but they’re grateful and blessed to have each other. So, instead of walking down the aisle, they danced—the groomsmen and bridesmaids, too! Let me say, Seamus has some serious moves.

It was such a beautiful and fun wedding. I can’t remember ever laughing as much as I had at a wedding, then crying just as hard when Finn and Sol exchanged their vows.

My phone buzzes twice, announcing two texts. One from Seamus, one from Mom.

Is the Queen of Hot Air and Darkness and her midget prince there yet?

You’re meeting Andres? Does Valentina know? Do you really think this is appropriate?

I didn’t have to check the names to know who said what.

A man in his early thirties sits down across from me. “Hi,” he says. “Is this seat taken?”

I smile, thinking of Seamus and push back a curl behind my ear. It’s time for another cut and Shaqwana was nice enough to fit me in. “It’s not taken,” I say. “But I am meeting someone momentarily.”

He smirks. “Your boyfriend?”

I laugh, playing with the cuffs of my deep plumb blouse. “Definitely not my boyfriend,” I say.

He smiles softly, his eyes skimming my outfit and maybe a little more. It’s then I realize this very attractive man is checking me out. “It looks like you’re almost done with your drink. Can I get you another?”

Since Seamus waved his wand, I’ve been surprised by how many men have approached me on the street, in restaurants, even at the shoe store where I bought these new heels. I’m still not used to the attention, and I’m not certain I want to be. “That’s very kind of you,” I say. “But I’m seeing someone, and I don’t feel comfortable accepting a drink from another man.”

He nods. “I understand.” He seems to want to add more, but then he stands, straightening the jacket of his suit. “Have a good day.”

“You, too.” Wow. He sat down just to speak to me. I watch him walk out at the same time Andres appears with Valentina. The man holds the door open for them, but he doesn’t seem to notice Valentina. Instead, he turns back briefly to smile at me.

My gaze drops and I blush from the attention he showed me, but also because I wasn’t prepared to see Valentina.

Andres didn’t select his place. She did. They walk in, her arm circling his. The barista with a tattoo sleeve of fairytale characters pauses in the middle of handing out drinks, as the laughter and jovial conversations drifting in the air lower to a murmur.

Everyone is looking at Valentina in her red floral spring dress and how the skirt flutters behind her with every step. My sister is striking. She always has been. It saddens me in a way that Andres looks like a stooge merely trying to keep up. He’s dressed in a light green cashmere V-neck sweater and freshly pressed tan slacks. He has his head up, attempting to match Valentina in height. But in those platform heels, she towers over him.

Valentina’s smile lights up the room. She waves, her enthusiasm appearing genuine and further highlighting her ethereal presence.

“Trophy wife,” a man in the corner booth mouths to his friend, causing him to crack up.

If I didn’t know them, I’d assume the same thing. For the life of me, I can’t understand what Valentina is doing with him, and perhaps what Andres is doing with her, too.

Valentina clutches Andres’s arm as she nears, pulling him closer to her when he sees me and his eyes widen.

“Allie,” Valentina sings, bending to kiss my cheek. I don’t bother standing, but I do return her affections. She releases her hold on Andres and steps aside, allowing him through. Like Valentina, Andres bends to kiss my cheek. I jerk away before he can make contact. His face reddens, my response clearly offending him. Perhaps I should feel bad, but I don’t. I have my limits.

Valentina beams, ignoring my dismissal of Andres. “Look at you. I can’t believe how much you’ve changed. You look . . . different.”

I’m not convinced she likes my new style of dress or my hair. “Sexy in business without being slutty,” Seamus calls it. I don’t know about that, but I’m overjoyed with my new wardrobe and that Seamus likes it.

My talk with Seamus the other day took a lot out of us, but when he walked me out to my car and he hugged and kissed me sweetly on the lips, I fell so much more in love with him.

“Are you still with us?” Valentina asks.

“Sorry,” I offer, setting my coffee down. “My mind was elsewhere.”

“On Seamus, perhaps?” she asks, her smile oddly feline.

“Yes,” I admit, the heat that claims my face validating my words.

Valentina sits on the couch across from me and crosses her legs, so perfectly poised I’m tempted to check the area for cameras. Andres sits on an extra wide chair to my left.

It surprises me that he doesn’t sit directly beside Valentina. The twinkle in her eyes tell me she already knows what I’m thinking and is happy to put my concerns at ease. “Andres and I have a meeting with our wedding planner. It’s the only reason I’m here.” She laughs when I tilt my chin. “Allie, you don’t think I’m here to make sure you keep your hands to yourself, do you?”

I pucker my brow, tasting a pang of what feels like resentment. “That’s nothing you have to worry about, I assure you.”

“I’m not worried,” Valentina adds sweetly, her gaze flickering over me.

My instincts warn me to move away from her, but I don’t stop holding my ground. She doesn’t sound nasty, nor does her expression give anything close to it away. But I feel it directed at me like a shove.

Valentina continues to analyze me. “Did you wake up in a bad mood?”

“No, why?” I ask, noting how she’s attempting to turn the tables to resemble prey and not the predator.

“You seem, I don’t know, perhaps bitter is a good word,” she muses.

I turn to Andres, mulling over whether he’s responsible for this ambush. This is a man I once knew so well, whose statements I could guess before he made them. I can no longer tell what he’s thinking. He could be nervous, sad, or possibly nonplussed, waiting for what comes.

I cross my palms over my knees and turn to face Valentina. It’s the position I often assume when I’m meeting with clients for the first time. It’s nonthreatening and reflects the honest person I pride myself in being.

“Why do you think I’m bitter?” I ask.

I’m not certain what I say or do to cause Andres to sit beside Valentina. He’s just suddenly there. Seamus did something similar a few weeks ago when we went to a dive bar with his family to eat the best pierogis ever made. A man stepped in front of me on my way to the restroom. I didn’t feel Seamus approach. He materialized with his arm around me, leading me forward and around the man who seemed interested in more than the pierogis. But where Seamus stood close, Andres sits away, keeping a good foot of space between him and Valentina.

Valentina’s eyes darken. “Andres and I are in love, Allie. We never planned on it, it just happened.”

“That’s not entirely true,” I point out, cutting off her undying declaration of devotion. I look to Andres. “That day, you said you had to do research at the lab, and that you’d be gone all day. When you came home, you told me you spent the afternoon with Valentina, who no one realized had flown in from France. That took a great deal of planning, even though you’re not willing to admit it.”

Andres regards Valentina as if waiting for her response. “It wasn’t like that, exactly.”

“Yes, it was,” I say.

Valentina smiles. “It was a long time ago, Allie. It would mean a lot to us if we could move on.”

Andres looks to Valentina as if searching for permission to speak. I’m glad he does. It’s another reminder of why we never would have worked out. I want a man. Not a spineless slug.

“You hurt me. Both of you. It didn’t end with that day.”

Valentina’s laugh cuts me off. “My goodness, Allie. You’re not wasting any time are you? Going right for the throat, I see.”

Again, she’s trying to come across as the victim. “I have a client meeting in an hour. If we could get on with this, neither of us have to be late for our appointments.”

I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep my voice neutral or that it would shake inconveniently, making me appear weak. For now, it’s hanging in there, and so am I.

Neither reply, both watching me, I suppose expecting the Allie they’ve known, the one who merely sits quietly and agrees. She’s gone. It didn’t take new clothes or a haircut. “Does anyone else have anything to say?” I ask. “An apology for the way I was treated, perhaps, or are we just here so you can tell me to get over it?”

The answer swirls like a mini-cyclone when neither respond. Wow. They’re really not going to say, “I’m sorry,” ever.

“You didn’t get what you wanted,” Valentina says, instead. “I know it hurts.”

“No, you don’t,” I say. “You weren’t the one betrayed, the one cast aside. You merely swept in and swept out the way you always do, Valentina.” As I speak, I find myself addressing Andres. “The way you’ll keep doing for the rest of your life.”

Andres knows what I mean. He isn’t stupid, his face pales slightly as I affirm his darkest fears. “He’s not coming back to you,” Valentina explains slowly, so my poor pitiful mind will understand.

“I don’t want him to,” I say, barely believing I have to spell it out. “I want someone who shows me respect, and a sister who won’t consider me so far below her that my feelings don’t matter.”

“I’ve never mistreated you,” Valentina replies, her voice as soft as the gaze she perfectly conjures. “The only thing I’m guilty of is finding my soulmate and acting on my feelings.”

“You’re a liar,” I say. “And so are you, Andres.” I stand. “God, I can’t believe I was stupid enough to meet you. You’ll never change.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Allie,” Andres says, keeping me in place when I stand. He rises slowly. So does Valentina, except for the first time, he doesn’t seem to notice her there. “I know what you did for me. I’ll never be able to thank you enough. For the support. For everything, but I . . .”

The momentary surge of courage abandons him as easily as he abandons me. His shoulders slump, giving me a glimpse of a broken, lonely man. Andres’s accomplishments and wealth mean nothing now. He takes a step back, sitting slowly.

His response and actions don’t seem real, too exaggerated and almost comical. But no one is laughing.

“You weren’t enough for Andres, Allie,” Valentina tells me, her voice and stance so graceful it doesn’t fit the words she says or the ones that follow. “In every way Andres needed, you weren’t enough of a woman for him.”

The air leaves my lungs, the room, creating a vacant hole. Valentina has returned me to the place where all my insecurities lie in wait and my fears are realized. No one sees me here, no one hears my words.

A place I’ve allowed her to rule for far too long.

“You’re right,” I say, glancing up at her. For the first time, Valentina doesn’t seem so tall or beautiful or perfect. She’s a very flawed human being who hides from the world with a pretty smile and prettier face. “He needed a bitch and that’s exactly what you gave him.”

“Allie!” Andres says, choking out my name.

“I won’t be a bridesmaid in your wedding,” I say, ignoring him. “You don’t deserve even that. Take the dress and give it someone who is more than happy to ignore everything you pretend to be. I’ll be in the back row, wishing you happiness and hoping by some miracle of God you can pull off this façade.”

Valentina squares her jaw. Again, it’s only Andres who speaks. “You used to be such a sweet girl.”

“The sweet girl became a woman who won’t be mistreated by anyone, anymore,” I lift my purse and phone and walk away, my steps measured and not hasty or slow.

“Allie,” Valentina calls to me.

I should know better than to stop. “You’ll never be able to hold on to Seamus either. You’re simply not enough.”

I glance over my shoulder just long enough to meet her in the eye and say what I say. “Watch me.”