Page 11 of Let's Call a Truce
The club wastoo loud. Too crowded. Too hot. I needed a drink.
Dinner was delicious. Asia was friends with the chef of a Cuban restaurant downtown, and she spoiled us rotten for her birthday with piles of ropa vieja, yuca con mojo, picadillo, and mini Cubanos spread around the table on family-style platters.
The chef, Ines, made her way to our table to wish Asia a happy birthday, and my eyes pinged between them as they spoke in rapid-fire Spanish.
“I am so jealous of how well you speak Spanish,” I said as I took another bite of ropa vieja. The flavors—beef, olives, pimento, capers—burst on my tongue. It was an endless competition of ingredients that both challenged and enhanced one another.
“One joy of growing up in Miami, unless you are particularly lazy.” She threw a pointed look at Dani, who shrugged.
I snorted—a horrible, unflattering noise like a stuck pig—then glanced around the table to make sure no one caught it. Everyone seemed focused on their own food, except one person. My ears turned pink when my eyes met Ben’s.
He lounged back in his chair with his fingers steepled like a supervillain, certain he just outsmarted the hero. A slow smile curled his lips, and I couldn’t stop my answering grin. I lifted an eyebrow and flicked my eyes to Asia and back, daringhim to make a nasty comment about my snort. Asia couldn’t get pissed at me if he landed the first blow. We continued our standoff, both waiting for the other to make a move.
Dani elbowed me, and I jumped. I cleared my throat and turned to Asia. “How did you meet Ines, and how do I become her best friend, too?”
“Screw her nephew.” Dani smiled innocently at her sister. The glare from Asia would have frozen most people solid.
“I’d consider it for this food.” I spooned bite after delicious bite into my mouth, moaning and realizing I was only half joking.
I caught Ben watching me a few other times through the meal, eyes expressionless, probably judging as I went in for serving number three of the rice. His disapproval had me burning hotter than the platters of food between us, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my anger. Each time my eyes wandered his way against my will, I flicked my hair over my shoulder and forced my attention back to Zac.
He was so pretty. He had to be right around six feet—tall without being a giant like some people in the room. His skin was the same deep brown hue as his cousin’s, with light hazel eyes and a megawatt smile I swore would plow down anyone in its path.
But Asia was right. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist. He was sweet, but every attempt at conversation was an utter failure.
“I’ve been trying to save up to take my kids to Austria,” I said. “I studied abroad there for a few months, and I would love to take them to where I stayed.”
He nodded along. “Wow, sounds exciting. I’d love to go see some kangaroos, too.”
“W-what?” I stuttered, my brow pulling together. My hand came up to fiddle with my earring. Was he changing the topic, or did he think there were kangaroos in Austria?
“Yeah, you must have seen them all the time when you studied there.”
I smiled tightly, not knowing how, or if, I should point out the mistake. My eyes darted around the table, looking for a new topic, another conversation to join, anything to avoid responding to and embarrassing Zac.
Ben had no such concerns. He chuckled from his place down the table. “Man, that’s Australia, not Austria. Austria’s in Europe.”
Shoulders tense, I turned toward Ben. No way was I going to let him elbow his way into my conversation and make my friend uncomfortable. When his eyes met mine, he went unnaturally still. Something flickered in his gaze, too quickly for me to nail it down.
What was that? Remorse? Guilt? Exasperation?
Whatever feelings he may have had about his dickishness were none of my concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a part of this conversation.”
“It didn’t seem like you were going to correct him, and I can’t let the poor guy walk around saying stuff like that.”
“Why were you even listening to our conversation in the first place? There are a dozen people at this table. I’m sure you can find one person who will tolerate you.”
The corner of his mouth tilted in a smirk. I didn’t want him smirking. I wanted him screaming into the void in frustration, like me. “Perhaps, but it wouldn’t be as entertaining as watching you struggle.”
Heat flooded every corner of my body, like my anger was a living thing trying to attack the object of its fixation. I opened my mouth, preparing to let the beast escape, when Asia jumped in.
“Nah-uh. Nope. Don’t you two dare start. I told you both to keep it locked down for tonight.” She stuck her hand out at us, making azip itgesture. I dropped my eyes to the table. I’d promised her we’d handle it, and we didn’t even make it throughdinner. “You good?” We both nodded, and I promised myself I’d avoid Ben for the rest of the night. I gulped down another glass of wine, feeling the effects before we reached dessert.
Once we finished, they ushered us out, and we stumbled a few blocks down in our happy wine-fueled haze to one of the hottest new clubs in the city. Asia was already dancing to a song only she could hear, pulling us all with her as she hyped up the group.
Orlando was never too cold, even in early February, and the walk in the winter air helped cool off some of my lingering annoyance from dinner. It was warm enough to get away with a fitted dress and a light leather jacket. I had taken the time to straighten my hair and pull it in a flirty high pony, and I found myself surprisingly happy with the way it came together.
Now here I was, in a hot, crowded, loud club, forcing a smile on my face and pretending I fit in, when I hadn’t stepped foot in one in years. My dress already clung to my body, and other sweaty bodies brushed me as they went past. I scanned the room—exits, bar, bathrooms, dance floor—trying to suss out the area with the least bodies and most airflow. The club was foggy, like the dim lights and humidity combined to cast a dreamlike—nightmarelike—haze.
