SIX
It happened today on a Thursday, my second favorite day of the week. For the first time in my life, I was late for something. Twenty-nine years with some change and here we are—late for a lunch date! I practically sprinted down the street to try and make it to lunch one time. I was meeting Ryan at Le Bernardin, one of the fanciest spots in the city. The kind of place where each delicious bite feels like an event. The atmosphere is serene. The service is impeccable. I love eating here. I take it back, I arrived with two minutes to spare. I slowed at the last second to catch my breath. I can’t show up looking like a mess, even if I kind of was one.
Lucky for me, Ryan just arrived. Suspected nothing. His excitement was contagious—I believed it’s more for the place than the company, but I don’t even mind. This place is epic. We’re seated, the waiter hands us menus with a flirty smile (for Ryan and not me). I can see his eyes light up as he scans the options and possible the waiter as he walked away. No judgement here. He was pretty to look at, as they always are here.
“I can’t believe we’re here,”
he said, beaming. “You know this place has been on my bucket list for ages, right?”
I laughed with his giddiness. I knew this place was definitely the right choice. “I know. That’s why we’re here. You deserve to be pampered, Ryan, after everything you do. I do business with the owner. If you want to bring Nate here sometime, just say the word.”
Nate is his partner, together for I think five or six years—longer than I’ve known him. He gave me a grateful smile as we dissected the menu. The tasting menu was too tempting to resist, so we decided to go all out.
We started with the Yellowfin Tuna Carpaccio, delicately arranged with a light drizzle of white soy sauce and a hint of chive oil. It’s so fresh it practically melted in my mouth. Next comes the Lobster Lasagna and one of my favorites—rich and decadent, with a sauce that’s to die for. It’s worthy of a last meal!
As we savored the food, the conversation flowed easily, but I could tell Ryan was curious about the “Michael situation.”
He wanted to know if there were more juicy details. I decided to to put him out of his misery and share my gossip, telling him all the details regarding Friday night and everything that’s happened since then.
“It’s a bit scary that you aren’t falling apart like a normal woman, Charlie Monroe. I might suspect that you are witch if I didn’t know better,”
he teased, waving his hands at me. “You don’t seem heart broken or lonely.”
“You’ve met my mother!”
I said laughing. “We were raised to never chase, beg or be second to anyone—especially with men. Being cheated on is the ultimate no-go for me. It was long overdue that Michael and I took different paths, but he chose to make that decision without giving me notice. It’s cowardly, but everyone plays a part in a breakup. I take dome responsibility for staying too long. But it’s over. Time to move forward. Crying and falling doesn’t have to be part of that, right?”
“Damn! Valid point,”
he nodded in solidarity. “If it were me, I’d probably toss all his stuff onto the sidewalk, light it on fire, break things, and lose my mind. But you—you took the high ground. It’s a path I will never know. Very impressive.”
“There’s no point in causing a scene,”
I replied. “I’d never want to be with someone who thinks it’s okay to sleep with someone else while living with me. It’s a very hard no!”
Ryan grinned, “You have fun and sunshine to look forward to soon. Vacation. Europe. Freedom. I’m so envious.”
“So… a little more gossip—guess who showed up at my office the other day?”
I leaned in slightly, knowing he’d love this next part.
Ryan smile took a devilish, “Do tell.”
He lifted his glass and took a long pull of the wine in anticipation of what came next.
“Michael’s new girlfriend,”
I said casually.
Ryan nearly choked on his sip. “Wait, what? The other woman came to see you? What Matrix are we living in? Why?”
I took a deep breath, still processing it myself. “She came to apologize. Said she didn’t know she was the ‘other woman.’”
Ryan’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”
“Not even a little bit. But she was great—really sweet, actually. I felt bad for her. She had no idea what was going on. It sucks to be cheated on, but it’s just as bad to be with someone you think is single. Michael’s such a douche.”
Ryan set down his glass and leaned forward with concern. “What did you say?”
“I told her it wasn’t her fault,”
I admitted, still feeling a pang of sympathy. “Honestly, I hope Michael realizes what he has with her. She’s way better than he deserves.”
Ryan agreed, “Bold to say the least. Maybe this will be a wake-up call for him…though, knowing Michael…it won’t be.”
“Yeah, I’m not holding my breath,”
I replied, smiling ruefully. “He’s not my problem and I hope things work out for her. Whatever she wants out of that situation is her business and not mine.”
We enjoyed the Crispy Skinned Black Bass—perfectly cooked, with tender leeks and a black truffle pot-au-feu sauce that I wished I could bottle up and take home. For dessert, we indulged in the Warm Chocolate Tart, paired with glass of dessert wine—recommended by the cute waiter. It’s the perfect end to a perfect meal.
As we finished, I caught Ryan’s eye and smiled. “Thanks for everything, Ryan. You’re not just my fellow travel wizard; you’re a true friend. I’m glad we did this.”
He beamed back at me, touched. “Thank you, Charlie. This was incredible. And yes, I’ll absolutely be calling in that favor for dinner here with Nate.”
We lingered a little longer, enjoying the last few sips of our wine before we headed back out into the real world.
A few hours later, Lena and I were seated in our usual sport at Balthazar. We loved to be by the large windows, a perfect vantage point for people-watching and sharing secrets.
Scanning the menu, I smiled. I loved their menu. I loved all the food choices in NYC. I glanced over at Lena, and said, “I’m definitely getting the steak frites. What about you?”
Her eyes twinkled with excitement, “I think I’ll go for the moules marinières. And we absolutely need a cheese plate and a bottle of Sancerre to start.”
“Perfect,”
I agreed and signaled the waiter. It might be a record-breaking day for the amount of food and wine I’m consuming, but challenge accepted.
As we waited for our food, Lena sipped her wine. “So, tell me about your trip. What did you decide?”
she prompted, eyes gleaming.
I leaned in, excited. “Well, I’m still starting in Paris. I have some meetings and dinners lined up, plus family time over the weekend. I’m there seven or eight days. Then, it’s the Amalfi Coast for ten days and I cannot wait! I’ve sent so many clients there and haven’t even explored it. Mom grew up going to some places in that area. You’ve heard some of the stories, so I’m going to try to check them out. And then…another ten days in Santorini. Five of those days are with my best friend. Spoiler alert—that’s you!”
Lena’s face lit up. “I can’t wait! Santorini for five days sounds like a dream. Just imagine the sunsets, the beaches, the food, the nightlife, the men. I’m so excited!”
I laughed with her and watched her swoon from imagining it. I knew I was getting myself into trouble before we even arrived. Lena liked to get wild and I was ready for it. It was time.
When our appetizers arrived, Lena causally mentioned, “By the way, my parents are supposedly planning a visit. They asked to stay with me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And…how do we feel about this?”
She shrugged, a mix of excitement and apprehension in her expression. “I’m excited, but who knows? Will they actually come? Stay? Or will they disappear at the last minute? Ghost all my calls and texts? Get swept away to Costa Rica for a jam sesh with the ex-pat’s? I’m too old for this guessing bullshit. I’ve been over it since middle school, yet here we are.”
I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Tell me how I can help? I’ll book them a hotel.”
Lena sighed, appreciative. “Thank you. I just never know what to expect with them. They come and go like ghosts, and it throws me off balance. No matter how much time has passed. I’m happy now, but they remind me of a different time. One I don’t care to revisit. I don’t like living in the past, but I also just can’t write them off. It’s annoying.”
Lena grew up at my house, basically a sister to Amelia and me. My parents loved her like their own, filled gaps left by her sporadically present, free-spirited musician parents. They meant well, but their “inspirational”
life left Lena abandoned more than cherished.
I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve done an amazing job building this beautiful, bohemian life. Everyone wants a piece of your light, and I’m lucky to be in it.”
She laughed softly, “I love your face. You’re my person, my family.”
I raised my glass and said, “To our adventures!”
Lena clinked her glass against mine. “To us—the truest of all the loves. The untouchables.”
Our laughter filled the air as we toasted to our unbreakable bond, knowing no matter what, we’d always have each other. Even though the popular restaurant was packed with people, nobody existed but us. This is the way it always was with us.
I love how Lena always tried to compose herself before she asked something ridiculous. She had tells, obvious ones—the serious face was the number one offender because let’s be real, Lena was not the serious type.
“Okay, in some dystopian society,”
she started. Here we go…Lena continued, “You have to pick one actress to be your partner. Who do you pick?”
“You’re so extra,”
I laughed at her, but was seriously contemplating my answer. “Parameters?”
“Alive now and character specific,”
she demanded like this was serious business. This very conversation was constructing the future, in this lesbian dystopian society.
“Give me a sec,”
I sipped my wine and thought it over. “Florence Pugh. Yelena Belova.” Solid answer.
“Wow,”
she scoffed. “Impressive Monroe!” She went bro code quickly when we were drinking!
“Who would you pick?”
I asked even though I probably knew the answer. She’s been obsessed with Underworld since we were twelve. We watched those movies so many times growing up. We were never clear on Lena and her sexuality. She was a very open free spirit and we adored her even more for that confidence.
“You know—Kate Beckinsale and I don’t need a dystopian society for that one,”
she confirmed. Of course, she didn’t.