One Summer in Miami

Chapter Twenty-Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Kya got home in time to catch Hugo and Adrian on their way out. She dropped her waterlogged tote bag on the floor and took in their sharply tailored suits. ‘Where are you guys off to looking so smart?’

‘To the Biltmore,’ Hugo answered. ‘Your brother is being honoured tonight.’

‘And you didn’t tell me?’ she protested.

‘You weren’t supposed to be here,’ Hugo reminded her.

‘Trust me, it’s no big deal,’ Adrian said. ‘Every so often a medical board or another throws a gala, for fundraising, if anything. This one was scheduled months in advance. We thought you’d be back in California by now.’

It looked like a big deal to Kya. They were wearing Tom Ford.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Hugo said. ‘He wins an award every few months.’

‘Well, I’m never here to see it. Can I tag along?’

‘Only if you really want to,’ Adrian said. ‘It’s not all that exciting.’

‘Actually, I could use the company,’ Hugo said. ‘There’s always an open bar at these things.’

‘Give me one sec!’

Kya took off down the hall. Lucky, springing out of nowhere, was hot at her heels. In her bedroom, her suitcase was open on the floor, the way she’d left it when she last rifled through it, right before her rapid getaway with Quinn. She rifled through it now for her go-to little black minidress and capped-toe stiletto pumps. The outfit might be too edgy for the Biltmore, one of Miami’s most prestigious hotels, but she had no other options. A swipe of lipstick and she was done. She and Lucky joined the guys who were waiting in the living room. Hugo was adjusting Adrian’s tie. He was certainly making a fuss for something that wasn’t a big deal.

‘Why haven’t I ever heard about these awards?’ Kya asked in the car, on their way to Coral Gables.

‘You don’t follow me on TikTok,’ Adrian replied.

‘I’m a blogger at heart,’ Kya said. ‘I can’t help it. I may start a Substack.’

‘Ever heard of vlogging?’ Hugo asked. ‘Get into it.’

At the Biltmore, she and Hugo got into the open bar. Meanwhile, Adrian was taken into custody by the hosting committee. They marched him off to a reserved area where the honourees rubbed shoulders and enjoyed ‘small bites’ while they waited for their trophies and honours.

The Spanish-style hotel, built in the 1920s, was the home of a country club. The guests were elegant and mature. Kya felt wholly out of place. She fidgeted, smoothed down her dress. The stretchy fabric was forgiving, but the thing had been crumpled up in the bottom of her suitcase for days now. She didn’t want to embarrass her brother.

‘Do I look okay?’ she asked Hugo. Kya spoke over the rim of her martini glass, to avoid anyone picking up on her discomfort and reporting her to the fashion police.

‘You’re glowing!’ Hugo exclaimed. ‘You’ve never looked so good.’

‘Oh, come on!’

‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘All thanks to Quinn.’

Just the mention of Quinn had Kya’s pulse racing. From a gilded mirror on a far wall, she watched as colour spread from her neck to her cheeks. She was instantly back in their little bungalow in Key Largo, enveloped in the scent of the citronella candle and Quinn’s coconut-scented body oil. She could feel Quinn’s skin rough with sea salt and taste her on her tongue.

‘I owe her one. I should send her a bottle of wine or something.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ Kya asked.

‘Don’t you know?’

She shook her head. What didn’t she know?

‘I asked her to take care of you and she did an amazing job. She deserves an award.’

‘About that, I can’t believe you asked her to take care of me!’

Kya’s voice bounced off the panelled walls. Hugo took her by the elbow and marched her to a remote corner of the ballroom.

‘I asked her to hang out with you, get you out of the house when we were busy with work. You may not remember this, but you were really down.’

‘You make it sound like I needed a babysitter.’

‘My friends and I take care of each other when in crisis. We show up with food, do laundry, take them to the bar, do wingman stuff – all of it. It’s just what we do.’

Hugo was far from home. He and his friends had formed a community. They looked out for each other. What did Kya know about community and friendship? Her friends had thrown her under the bus at the first opportunity.

Hugo finished his drink and returned to the bar for another round. Kya stood alone in a corner among the potted palm trees until an older man approached and asked where she’d gone to medical school. Once she wriggled her way out of that conversation, she stepped out to a nearby balcony for air.

She was upset. Quinn had been tasked to look out for her, like a problem child, an unruly kid needing supervision. It cast a different light on their relationship. She hated the idea of Quinn spending time with her out of obligation or duty. However, deep inside, she knew better. It might’ve started that way, as a favour to a friend, but it quickly evolved. She was sure of it. A favour was a coffee date, or a quick text message to check in. Quinn had made space for her in her life, had forgiven her when she’d acted like a jerk, and showed her true kindness and friendship. In return, there was something Kya could do for her. Quinn would never admit it, but the troll thing got to her. Chasing down trolls was busy work, like playing whack-a-mole online, but this one had left a trail that she could easily follow. Kya wasn’t much of a vlogger and shied away from most social media platforms. However, she did have a singular set of skills that she could put to use here. She could pull the thorn out of Quinn’s side.

A stylish woman joined her on the balcony, looking somewhat flustered. Patting the pockets of her elegant jumpsuit, she asked, ‘Do you have a light?’

‘No. Sorry.’

‘That’s all right,’ she said. ‘They should be starting any minute now.’ Her gaze swept over Kya. ‘Who are you married to?’

Funny question. Was this a first wives’ club?

‘Do you have to be married to someone?’ Kya asked. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘Married or related in some way,’ she replied. ‘You wouldn’t come here on a Monday night voluntarily, would you?’

She had a point. She also had keen green eyes that sparkled with good humour and salt-and-pepper hair styled in a bob. Kya decided she liked her.

‘My brother is getting an award tonight.’

‘Who’s your brother?’

‘Dr Adrian Reid.’

‘I know Dr Reid!’ she exclaimed. ‘Excellent plastic surgeon.’

‘That’s what they say. Who are you related to?’

‘My husband is the chairman of the board. Carl Miller, Dr Carl Miller.’

‘Are you a doctor, too?’

‘God, no. I’m in biotech.’

‘Nice!’ Kya knew she liked her for a reason. ‘I’m a software engineer.’

‘Very nice! Where do you work?’

Suddenly, this exchange wasn’t quite so nice anymore. Kya would rather leap off the balcony than go down this path. The perceptive woman might have picked up on it and quickly changed course.

‘What am I doing, grilling you about work?’ she said. ‘Forget I asked.’

Somehow, her kindness made it worse. This question was going to come up often and what was she going to do? She couldn’t run from it forever.

‘I used to work for Ex-Cell until I got laid off. I’m just hanging out with my brother until I figure things out.’

‘Ex-Cell … That’s impressive.’

Didn’t she hear the part about them laying her off? Or had Kya been too subtle?

She opened her pocketbook, removed a pack of cigarettes, a wallet, then a slim leather card case. She handed Kya a thick business card with embossed black lettering. Kya hesitated before taking the card. What did she need it for? She had one week left in Miami. Then she’d head back to California, the true seat of innovation. It only took a fraction of a second for her to acknowledge how wrong that line of thinking was, not to mention elitist. She took the card. Corinne Miller, the wife of Dr Carl Miller, was also the CEO of BioFlow Enterprises.

‘What’s your focus?’ Kya asked.

‘Lab automation.’

She knew nothing of lab automation. It sounded impressive, though. ‘I won’t be in Miami long.’

‘That’s all right,’ Corinne said. ‘If you have the time, give me a call. I’d like to show you what we do.’

Hugo, fresh martini in hand, found them on the balcony. To no one’s surprise, not Kya’s, anyway, he and Corinne embraced like old friends.

‘Hugo designed my logo,’ Corinne explained, although no explanation was necessary.

‘He’s looking into interior design now,’ Kya said. ‘He’s very talented.’

Hugo shot her a look. As outspoken as he was, he was oddly shy about this. For once, he was the one who needed a nudge. Kya had no qualms about it.

‘In that case, we need to talk, honey bunny,’ Corinne said to Hugo. ‘Carl and I are downsizing to a condo.’

‘I’d like that,’ he said.

Corinne glanced at her bejewelled watch. ‘We should go inside now. It’s time.’

‘It was nice meeting you,’ Kya said.

Corinne looked just as flustered as earlier. ‘Could I hang out with you guys?’ she asked. ‘If one more person asks me where I went to medical school, I’m going to lose it.’

‘Of course, darling,’ Hugo said. ‘Us laypeople have to stick together to survive the night.’

Ten minutes into the ceremony, Kya realized that Adrian wasn’t being honoured for his contributions to medicine, but ‘technology, public outreach and education’. In short, Adrian now had an award-winning TikTok account. She thought of her own account, which had earned five hundred followers based on that one pathetic video. She would delete it. She didn’t want to start a new chapter based on old news and past mistakes. As the master of ceremonies was saying, ‘One has to look to the future for solutions.’ Maybe she could do more with video, something fun, like document Music Week. It promised to be chaotic, parties stacked on parties. Quinn would perform almost every night. Having a goal, like documenting the behind-the-scenes action, would give her something to do, aside from following Quinn around – although following Quinn around was all she wanted to do.

The idea was still swimming in her head when they made it home later that night and gathered at the dining room table with pints of ice cream, their favourite gourmet caramel sauce, and mismatched spoons.

‘Feel free to rent out my bedroom,’ Kya said. ‘I’ll be staying at Quinn’s for the next few days to tag along at her performances.’

Adrian dropped his spoon in his empty bowl with a clang. ‘Excellent news!’

This was rich. Hadn’t he begged her to stay? ‘Don’t sound so excited to be rid of me.’

‘Don’t be offended,’ Hugo said. ‘We’re just happy you’re getting out without anyone having to drag you by the hair.’

Kya was offended nonetheless. ‘I thought the point of my staying was for us to have more quality time together.’

‘You missed the point,’ Hugo said flatly. ‘We didn’t want you to rush back to California, curl up in a ball in your apartment, eat chocolate and cry your eyes out.’

Kya scoffed. As if anyone could keep her from eating chocolate and crying her eyes out.

‘I have a heavy workload this week,’ Adrian explained. ‘Last week’s injury wrecked my schedule.’

‘You took one day off, bro!’ Kya cried. ‘One day!’

‘That’s all it takes,’ Adrian said. ‘You’ll come by for dinner, right? You have to eat.’

‘I’ll do laundry and stock up on your snacks, too.’

‘Do what you like. This is home, Kya.’

Hugo stood to clear the table. ‘I’ll come out to support Quinn. We’ll hang out like old times. Do you have her schedule?’

‘Nice! I’ll look it up.’

Kya unlocked her phone and a flurry of delayed alerts popped onto the screen. Going off the grid was great until you got back to dozens of missed calls and messages. It was even more frightening when they were all from one person: Jon Yi.

Kya dropped her phone, irrational anger bubbling up inside her.

‘What’s wrong?’ Adrian asked. ‘No wi-fi?’

No shame was more like it! How dare Jon reach out now, after days of silence. In the wake of what happened, her so-called office bestie hadn’t so much as sent a ‘hang in there’ cat meme. The text read: I know you hate us but …

Leave it to Jon to figure that out. He’d always been the most perceptive of the bunch, which was why she’d liked him. He was wrong on one thing, though. There was no ‘but’; she hated them, full stop.

At the office, Jon’s desk was steps away from hers. On slow days, they spent hours chatting about their favourite TV shows, anything with dragons and magic, conducting deep dives into pilot episodes, dissecting character arcs, crying over disappointing series finales. Often, they’d slip away from the others to have lunch on their own. After a quick tour of the cafeteria, piling food on their plates, they’d head to the deck and catch up on each other’s personal lives, which was easy enough since neither of them had one. Jon once said he could fall in love with her if he tried. He was bi, so it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. ‘It would solve all our problems,’ he said. He often proposed thoughtful solutions in that same tone of voice at their daily morning meetings. They’d been the only single people at the last corporate dinner. That was no reason to get together. Jon was a romantic, looking for love, and she’d never settle. Kya did not want a dull, dreary man. She wanted a woman with sparkle.

Her bubbling anger fizzled now and made way for sadness.

‘It’s fine if you can’t find the schedule,’ Hugo said. ‘Don’t get worked up about it.’

Kya stared at him blankly. She had no idea what he was talking about.

Adrian zeroed in on her with concern. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I missed a few calls from a work friend and it brought all that stuff back.’

‘Block them all,’ Hugo said. ‘If they were real friends, they wouldn’t have done you dirty.’

She set aside her phone. ‘I agree.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Adrian said. ‘People have reasons for doing what they do. That office was toxic for everyone. It might do you good to hear them out. It’s therapeutic.’

‘Block them,’ Hugo insisted. ‘You can reach out when you’re back in California. This week, you party.’

Again, Kya sided with Hugo. A party was the cheapest and most efficient form of therapy.