4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
I wait for Christian to call me, and he never does.
If he was still my friend, I can imagine the anger he would have at a guy for treating me this way. He’d had such high standards for me, deeming everyone not good enough. The fact that he couldn’t meet his own idea of what I deserve is not lost on me, and I can’t help but wonder if that is part of his distance. All the same, I miss him.
When I’m not working, Monty is doing everything in her power to keep me distracted. Keeping up with our tradition of playing canasta while we talk through our problems, we are spending the day together in our own form of a tournament. We’re in the finals when Mira calls.
“You’re throwing a pool party?” I look in Monty’s direction. She shrugs her shoulder with a slight nod.
“It’s boiling outside, and I figured we all need a good time off. Are you coming?”
“Most definitely.” I think of all the bikinis I have yet to show off and start to get excited. She gives us a few more details before hanging up. Having been raised to never show up empty handed, I force Monty to run to the liquor store while I get ready.
Having no intention to swim, I apply a full face before I straighten my hair. I throw on a black and gold two piece with a low-cut design meant to let my belly hang out in all its glory, and add a beautiful kaftan overtop. Monty is ready shortly after, and looking like video vixens, we head out to Mira’s.
Before we even breach the gate to Mira’s condo, we can hear the music from the street. It’s blaring by the time we make our way into her backyard, making it hard to hear her call out my name as she pushes her way through the crowd. As soon as she reaches us, I press the two bottles of alcohol into her open hands and thank her for inviting us.
“Of course,” she says, frowning at Monty. They have never gotten along, as Monty deemed from their first meeting that she felt a bad vibe about her. Mira gave up trying to get on her good side years ago, and now they barely tolerate each other. Their lack of greetings is only worsened by the face Monty pulls when Mira catches her eye.
“Drinks?” I try to cut through the awkwardness of this stand-off, pushing them towards something we all like.
“Yes drinks, follow me.” Mira leads us to a table full of bottles, cans, and a bucket of ice, pointing out all our options.
“Help yourself,” she says while putting down the alcohol I gave her. She only looks at me, making it clear who she is extending the offer to.
I try not to laugh as Monty disregards her and pops open a bottle. Mira is forced to move over as Monty damn near body bumps her to get to the mixes.
“Oh look, it’s Errol,” Mira says glancing over my shoulder. “Errol, over here,” she yells.
I listen for the sound of him approaching, hesitant to turn around and face him. When I do turn, I find he is standing right behind me. Monty does a double take, and I can see on her face that she thinks he is way hotter than I gave him credit for. Raising an eyebrow at me, she takes a long sip of her drink.
“I like your swim shorts,” she says, trying to keep a straight face at my instant anger.
“Thank you. And you are?”
“I’m Farrah’s best friend, Monty.”
“Weird,” Errol says. “Farrah definitely gives off loner vibes.”
Enraged, I look up just in time to see his snarky grin slip onto his lips. Standing there in nothing but his shorts, his shirtless look reveals a toned and glistening chest. With his hair pulled back into a pony-tail, his neck dips into a muscled collarbone that hangs over sculpted abs. Mira laughs like this is all a great joke, breaking me from my stare.
“Me and Farrah have been friends for years,” she says, looping her arm through mine.
I squeeze her hand before I take off the cover up and toss it onto a near-by chair. Errol’s eyes take me in, roaming from my neck to my thighs with a weird look on his face. Anticipating his snarky comment, I’m thrown off when it’s Mira who says something instead.
“Wow, Farrah, I love it. Any body is a summer body, right?”
Monty’s head snaps up like she’s electrified, her face pulling tight as her brows shoot down toward her nose.
“What do you mean by that?” Expecting to hear her voice, shock overcomes me when I realize it’s the deep baritone of Errol’s.
“I just mean—” Mira stutters over her words. “I just mean she looks good.”
“Really?” Errol asks.
“Yes, really. Why, you don’t agree?” Trying to turn things around on him, she asks this question with a righteous flare.
“That is not how it came off, but I’m glad that is what you intended.”
The look he gives her is full of all the disdain that is usually directed at me. Seeing it wielded in my defense is unnerving.
“You never said how you think she looks,” she says, her face red.
“Farrah always looks amazing.” There is no hint of sarcasm in his voice. “If she focused less on how she looked and more on her job, maybe she would be better at it.”
Insulted for the third time in the last twenty minutes. This one seems to take the cake.
“And by that you are saying what, exactly?” I ask. It’s one thing to call me annoying or vain, but to say that the work I produce isn’t up to par, well bump that.
“I’m going to check on my guests,” Mira says, looking to make an escape. I flick my hand at Monty, letting her know she is free to go too. No need for her to witness round three. She shakes her head before walking over to a nearby group, ready to mingle.
“So what are you trying to say?” I repeat, placing my hands on my waist.
“This isn’t a fashion show. Maybe if you dressed more practical, you would be better at doing your job.”
“You know what else isn’t practical?” I jab my finger into his carved peck. “You being on set right now. From what people say, it’s not normal for a director to be around during pre-production.”
He rolls his eyes and throws his hands out in a wide arc.
“I don’t know who your source is about how things run, but they are wrong. Also, what is your obsession with me?”
“I’m not obsessed, I just think you’re being a micromanager and it’s a little overbearing.”
“Well, you don’t get paid to think about what I do. You get paid to think about designs, and those aren’t great.”
“And what is wrong with my work?” Seconds away from pulling my hair out, I run my fingers through it. I wait for him to be flustered and stutter without a clear example. Instead, he squares his shoulders and lays out his pointer finger to start a list.
“Well, for one, the costumes for the party were uninspired and out of season. Two, the meet cute look for the character Fiona is nowhere near as ready as it should be. And lastly, the tie choice for Dante’s suit doesn’t match the party decor.” He finishes with all three accusatory fingers pointing in my direction.
But they are pointing the wrong way. None of these are my projects. All of them belong to Mira.
“So what do you have to say for yourself?”
Stuck between taking the hit and confessing, neither option feels like the right choice. Should I tell him it wasn’t me and throw my friend under the bus? Or do I give him the satisfaction of thinking I’m bad at my job?
“Your swim shorts are uninspired.” I decide that I can’t be the one to tell him that it’s Mira he finds subpar.
“You’re deflecting.”
“I may be deflecting, but it is true. Your whole wardrobe is a mess and does no favors for your good looks.”
“So you think I look good?”
My mouth gapes like a caught fish. I open and close it, gulping down air in search of the right comeback. Luckily for me, I don’t have to give one as a guy walks up to us interrupting the conversation.
“There you are,” he says, checking Errol out. “I have been looking everywhere for you.” He intertwines his hand with Errol’s, and I roll my eyes as it becomes clear what this is. I don’t know what happened to Erica, but it seems Errol has opened himself up to more than one person right now.
“Oh good, you found me,” Errol says, sounding less than excited while trying and failing not to look in my direction.
I make my thoughts clear with the frown I pull when he looks at me long enough to catch it. Pivoting my eyes between their hands and the guy, I wait for him to explain his constant dates or leave.
Opting for the latter, he lets himself be dragged away, sparing one look over his shoulder. I give him a petty wave before turning my attention back to the drink table. After that conversation, I need a few shots to wash down the disappointment. I take some to go as I search for a seat.
As Errol graciously pointed out the other day, most people here don’t like me. So no one rushes over to say hello or engage me in conversation. I make a few attempts with the person next to me, but they barely respond, letting the conversation die every time I start it. Monty eventually makes her way back over to me, and we sit with our legs dangling in the pool.
She’s going off about what Mira said, making yet another case for why she doesn’t like her. I agree that Mira’s been acting different since I got here, but I’m barely listening, too busy watching Errol and his date.
They’re playing in the water, trying to push each other under. Occasionally, one of them pops up and grabs the other for a kiss. Despite being in public, they seem so intimate that it almost feels wrong to look at them.
“You good?”
I turn to see Monty watching me watch them with a glint in her eyes.
“Yeah…why?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
She looks at me like she does in fact know, but isn’t going to get into it now. I appreciate that. I try to find anywhere else to look at, but my eyes go back to them.
“I know you’re going to hate me for this, but I like Errol.”
My neck hurts from the force with which I turn to stare at her. I can’t tell if she is joking or not.
“How can you like him?” My voice hits new octaves.
“I don’t know, I just get a good feeling from him. Plus, he put Mira in her place, which was cool.”
“You don’t get a good feeling from anyone.” She literally hates almost every guy I introduce her to.
“You’re right, I don’t get good feelings from the people you’ve dated. Then again, so far I have yet to be wrong.”
I cross my arms upset that it’s the truth.
“He literally insulted me. You’ve disliked people for less.”
“I have, but I don’t know, something about him just seems okay. Maybe it’s that you hate him so much and you have shit taste.”
I push her in the water, satisfied when she goes all the way under. She pops back up, cussing and throwing her hands in the air.
“You’re lucky I got braids in.” She tries to grab my legs, but I leap up and run back towards the fence laughing.
Like we’re still the kids we were when we met, she starts chasing me around the pool, caring little for the looks from the other people. Screaming and laughing, we fight until eventually she gets me in the water. My freshly pressed hair gets wet, but I’m too giddy to care.
I can’t stop giggling until I look up and see Errol staring at me with this intense look, probably disapproving of this behavior as well. I wait for him to walk over and reprimand me. Instead, we lock eyes until Monty drags me towards the deep end.
I spend the rest of the night trying not to watch him, and I get the feeling he’s doing the same.