by Frank, S. W.
“Oh, alrighty then. Remind me. Do I remind you of your shit?”
“Constantly, but I have a hard shell, you don’t. Shit rolls off me, it sticks to you.”
“Maybe, that’s because I wasn’t with my husband a couple of months. We were together for years.”
“Don’t get sensitive. Anyway, go have fun. Have a few shots on me and I’ll see you next week Friday. I’ll call when I board the plane.”
“No problem.”
“Oh-oh Selange you there?”
“Yes, what happened?”
“Send one of those young fine dudes to pick me up at the airport and girl whatever you do, don’t ride along.”
“I ‘m not going to ask why. I can imagine what your horny butt’s thinking.”
“D-i-c-k, say it with me girl. One time now, d-i-c-k!” Shanda rapped.
“You need therapy, get off the phone, I’ll talk to you later.” She chuckled. Her friend had nothing but a one track mind.
Shortly, after that Selange arrived at the restaurant. Crazy Nicky headed for the valet parking but Selange stopped him. “Do me a favor this once Nicky, wait in the car. I would like to enjoy dinner without you hovering. Just give me this, okay?”
“But,” he started to recite all the reasons it wasn’t safe then relented, “alright but here,” he reached in the glove compartment for a snub-nose pistol, “take this. Put it in your purse.”
She laughed then opened the sparkly clutch and showed Crazy Nicky her revolver. “Loaded and ready.”
“Ah, you don’t say boss lady. Alright, I’m gonna’ be across the street with my eyes on things. Go enjoy your dinner.”
“Thanks, Nicky.”
She climbed out and he watched her shapely silhouette enter through the polished doors and smiled. He liked that lady, she had class. One of the parking attendants rushed over, “Sir , you can’t park here.”
“I know, do I look like I can’t fucking read? Relax, I’m moving kid!”
****
Jessica waved at Selange from a table on the westerly side of the dimly lit restaurant-lounge. Selange bypassed the hostess, “I see my party, thanks.” Then she scurried over and hugged the girl.
As usual, Jessica’s enthusiasm traveled to her vocal chords, “OMG, look at you mami, hot-damn you bounce back like a rubber-band after having kids. That’s loco!”
Patrons turned in their direction and Selange ignored their curious gazes. Jessica was Jessica. In a way she reminded Selange of Shanda. Sometimes, the women failed to censure their words or the decibel, but she learned long ago, not to give a damn about what other people thought. Friends matter more than judgmental strangers. “You look hot yourself, I have my Spanx holding it together.”
Jessica laughed, “No, for real, Spanx can do but so much mami, your shit’s natural.”
“Well, gracias.” Selange smiled as she sat, put her clutch on the table then checked out the place with a graceful movement of her head, “Nice, I like it.”
“There’s a saxophonist. He’s pretty good, but I came for the food. Somebody told me, it’s really good. Besides, we need breaks too. The men get theirs all the time. Shit, I’m bum-rushing and taking mine!”
“I hear that!” Selange swiveled her head and noticed the small stage far in the back and a long lit bar. The place was bigger than she thought. The table where they sat was closer to the front dining hall. It looked like all the action was happening in the rear. The well-dressed people there seemed much livelier. There were mainly romantic couples and a reserved vibe in the area they occupied. She leaned forward, “After we eat let’s hit the bar, you down?”
“Hell, yes. I’m not driving. I walked over in these ten inch heels, believe it?” She displayed her killer shoes. They were sparkly attention-getters.
“Those are bad-ass shoes. I don’t know how you walked in them though. I don’t go over six. I’m not busting my ass for nobody!”
“You should’ve seen the dudes offering me rides. I was strutting my stuff and flipping them the bird. Like I need a ride in their broke-down whips when my feet work just fine.”
Selange laughed, “You’re too much –but you are not walking home tonight. I’ll make sure you make it home safe.”
Jessica blew out air laughing then leaned over the table, the long brown hair lay on her bare shoulders when she did, “Oh, good I hoped you’d say that. My feet are starting to kill me.”
“Now you understand why I don’t punish myself. By the way, I read your business proposal. It’s thorough.”
“Emilio helped. He’s smart as shit for a dude who never went to college.”
“You don’t have to attend college to be smart. Just read.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” Jessica leaned over the table, “So you want to invest?”
“I’m in. I spoke with Alfonzo’s cousin from Italy, Amelda who’s a fashion designer. She wants me to bring you out to New York when I go to attend Fashion Week with her and some friends.”
Jessica shrieked, “Are you fucking serious, Fashion Week?”
“Serious.”
“Ah hell yes, I’m going!”
“Okay, it’s not for a few more months but it gives you time to scout a location, and maybe you can get some of her designs in your boutique if you like what you see.”
“Selange, you’re the bomb, seriously mami, nice looking out.”
“We’re family, that’s what we do.”
They were talking about the babies when a waitress finally sauntered to their table. Jessica knew what she wanted and so did Selange. She went with the chicken soup with farro and dumplings. She’d sampled this dish in Milan and loved it. In the northeastern region of Italy, farro’s been used for centuries. It’s similar to spelt and she’s even put it in her salads. Nico told her…
She squint, damn! She didn’t come here to reminisce about the past. She tossed the memory out and got back to today. Today, she planned to enjoy herself and do Selange. Heck, she deserved it. No babies, no men, no worries, right?
During the twenty minutes waiting for their meal and the forty to eat it, Jessica decided to confess her shock about ‘the incident.’ That’s what everyone was calling Selange’s affair with Nico. “I couldn’t believe you cheated, nah, for real, mami.” Jessica continued in her tough New York accent mixed with Spanglish.
“I really don’t want to talk about that Jessica.”
“Why not, I’m not judging you or anything?”
“Because we’re here to get a stress reduction, remember?”
“Okay,” she finished her red wine, “but one question…that’s all…just one then I’ll leave it alone.”
Exasperated already by the talkative woman, Selange caved, “Shoot, you can have your one question.”
“Was it great sex, because Nico looks like he can work it? You know, if I wasn’t with Emilio, I might hit him up and say Nico, papi, come take me around the world.”
Selange’s eyes bulged at the girl as she burst out laughing, finding humor in the naughty thought. Of course, Selange didn’t answer the question. It wasn’t anyone’s business, besides; it wasn’t all about the sex. “Okay, Jessica, pipe down hun. Get it together.”
“Okay…okay…I’ll quit. Come on, let’s get some drinks before Emilio starts texting me non-stop.”
Moments later, Selange settled the tab and they were at the crowded bar sipping on rums, sharing mommy stories and unwinding when two guys strolled over. One insinuated himself between the women, the other stood on Selange’s side eyeing her like meat. “Hola, ladies, how you doing tonight?”
Jessica pulled a face. She was tipsy but not that tipsy. The dude was definitely not her type, besides she had Emilio’s bones to jump when she got home. This dude had a distractingly large nose, what’s worse is the one trying to hit on Selange reminded her of a Dutch Bulldog. Damn, why did guys see two women at a bar and automatically think they’re looking for companionship? “We’re good and this is a private celebration
. Do you mind?”
The Bulldog was grinning, “Can’t you ladies at least let us buy you drinks?”
“No, we’re fine, thank you,” Selange chimed in. Her slurred speech a sign she’d washed down more than she should.
Nose and Bulldog, that’s what Jessica, called them in her head. “Hey, you want to do something for us, then say good-bye and go back to wherever you slid out from under.”
“We’re flattered, though.” Selange added trying to soften the harsh words. Yep, Jessica was a mini-Shanda. Some guys didn’t respond well to a public ‘diss’ and the minute her brain thought it, sure enough the guy retorted with, “You, you’re cool but this one is a true bitch!”
Selange blinked in shock. “Seriously, you should look in the mirror. You’re more a version of a dog, than she’ll ever be.”
A guy who’d been staring at the end of the bar at the woman in the red dress sauntered to assist. “Guys, leave the ladies alone. They’re not interested.”
“Hombre, step off and mind your business.” Nose countered.
Selange grimaced. The poor dude trying to defend them didn’t look like he could bench press a hundred pounds. He was also wearing glasses, damn!
Jessica wasn’t having it, her expression turned murderous. Selange sighed and her French manicured nails inched toward her purse. Yep, another Shanda, except Jessica was the Puerto-Rican version. Jessica began to breathe fire. “Maricón, I’ll show you who the bitch is!”
Oh snap, it was on, now!
****
Alfonzo’s dinner companion fumbled with her hair. Smoothing it back self-consciously as she talked. “And it’s funny when they see me behind the bar, they’re like shocked or something…”
“Um.” He mumbled. In his head he wanted the pretty woman to shut-up. He had begun to regret asking her to dinner. Maybe, he should’ve taken her straight to his place, forego the prelude, hit it then sent her on her way like the others –but he was hungry and female company seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, after tonight he wouldn’t endure the senseless chatter ever again. He’d delete her contact info from his cell, it’ll be as if she never existed.
They were waiting for the waitress when a commotion in the lounge area caught his attention. He could hear a woman cussing up a storm. He recognized the irritating tone anywhere. He’d heard it most of his life. The voice belonged to his cousin Jessica. The minx was berating somebody in Spanish and making a scene. He hoped she and Emilio weren’t putting on a public display of their bullshit. Alfonzo wasn’t pleased and excused himself, “I’ll be back.”
He noticed the questioning glances and subtle steers as he hurried toward the commotion. By the stares of a few patrons, he ascertained they recognized him. Lately, the news took an interest in the recently divorced wealthy playboy. They’d probably seen him on TV or the photos in those gossip magazines with high profile people and read articles about his alleged affiliation to organized crime. Their admiring looks were evident that most of them didn’t care about the rumored connection; his philanthropic deeds in Puerto Rico far outweighed the speculation about his friends.
This was an upscale restaurant with a lounge area. It’s also where many local movers and shakers began to hang out. His presence wasn’t a surprise, since he was part owner. A silent partnership agreement, Alfonzo insisted upon. However, Jessica coming here and causing a scene required that he intervene. The last thing the newly opened establishment needed was negative publicity. Funny, he thought he’d find Emilio, instead, Selange came in to view. Near his ex-wife stood a short little dude trying to verbally take on these two imposing men.
Alfonzo quickly scanned the room for Selange’s bodyguards. One of them should’ve appeared by now, unless….
‘Of course, she ditched them. His wife was good at ditching people!’
When Alfonzo maneuvered around the women and their pint-size protector, the guys’ attitude suddenly changed. He didn’t take his eyes off the dudes. In his peripheral vision, he knew his cousin was less than a foot behind him on his right and Selange closer to the bar. He addressed Jessica without turning his head, “Qué paso prima?”
“This chump called me a bitch, primo.”
Alfonzo noticed Selanges’ hand inside the purse as she held it on her lap and he wondered if she even considered where she was. A crowded restaurant with lots of witnesses isn’t where you want to shoot anybody. Ella loco!
The women’s mighty savior disappeared at Alfonzo’s interjection. Alfonzo sized up the motherfuckers and almost laughed. They looked scared as hell. “Which one?”
“That one.”
Alfonzo closed the gap and gripped the dude so hard by the throat; he gagged and turned scarlet as he was forcefully led backwards toward a rear exit. Security appeared and with less force escorted his friend in the same direction. They heard the door in a distance clang shut and Jessica laughed, “I hope primo kicks his ass!”
Selange rolled her eyes and spun around on the stool. Alfonzo was a hot-head. Where the hell did he come from anyway?
Jessica sat back down, “Maricón had a lot of fucking nerve.”
Selange spotted the guy with the glasses. He had out his wallet settling the tab. “I’ll be back Jessica, I’m just going to thank that guy for what he did.”
“What he do, he didn’t do shit?”
“Jess, be nice. He tried.”
“Trying only means you failed. That guy would’ve got his ass kicked.”
Selange rolled her eyes and very carefully navigated a few stools down the bar until she made it to Mr. Glasses. “Thanks, let me take care of your bill, it’s the least I can do.”
“No, thanks. I paid already. I appreciate the offer, though.”
“Well, we appreciate you for getting involved.”
He put out his hand, “I’m Tony.”
She took it and they shook, “Selange.”
He reached in his pocket for a business card and passed it to her, “Maybe, you might need me again.”
She laughed, holding the card between two fingers, “Never know.” She read the print out loud “Antonio Vegas, Canciller de la Escuela. What happened to Jorgé Montoya?”
“He retired three months ago.”
“Oh.” She was about to thank him and be on her way when Alfonzo and security returned. He noticed her newfound friend and swiftly approached.
Alfonzo leaned in the middle of his ex-wife and the nerd. He noticed the business card and snatched it out of her delicate little fingers, “Antonio, School Chancellor. Nice title. You both like education, that’s good.” He sat the card on the bar, “Let me educate you Antonio Vegas, hold on to your card, save it for another woman easily impressed by it. This is the mother of my children. There are four…yes four kids at home waiting for her and rolling in bed with you is not going to happen, el noche. Get it?”
The guy rushed out the place like hounds were chasing him. Alfonzo chuckled, “Pendejo!”
Selange frowned, “You’re a rude bastard.”
Alfonzo’s eyebrow arched severely at the odor of liquor clinging to her breath and he took hold of her arm bringing her to his side. He bet if he released her she’d bust her ass. The woman couldn’t drink for shit. “Lo siento –but happy hours over.”
His legs started moving and Selange didn’t have a choice and trotted alongside him with an unsteady gait. Alfonzo was angry, she could always tell by the jawline and how it pulled tight. He couldn’t hide the bulge near his cheekbone as it pulsed and protruded from the taut skin. She didn’t like being dragged along or how Jessica had to scamper after them in her ridiculously high heels shoes. Selange seethed under her breath, “You have a lot of nerve. I swear, what the heck is wrong with you?”
His mouth was at her ear, “You better hope no one saw that gun coming out of your pocketbook, Clint Eastwood or your ass is in big trouble.”
“Oh, shut-up. I had my hand in my bag, just in case.”
Her legs were moving rapidly. H
e had a good grip on her and from appearances they were a cordial couple in a hurry to leave. Alfonzo’s date peered at him with a quizzical expression as they neared. He slowed to say, “Be back, babe. I have a family situation. Order whatever you like.”
The woman nodded; she understood. Family can embarrass the heck out of you sometimes. “No, it’s okay. Just hurry back.”
“Just hurry back,” Selange mimicked as she took in the dark hair woman with the cosmetically altered boobs. Ugh, cheap. He’d sunk in taste hadn’t he? She glared at him and he got her through the door without a scene. Once, they stepped onto the pavement she immediately fired with all guns. “You sonovabitch. Don’t you ever tell me when it’s time to leave. I wasn’t ready to go. Who do you think you are; we’re not married anymore, remember?”
Lou and Crazy Nicky were out their cars, hurrying across the street. Alfonzo snatched the purse from her hands, “You’re not getting this back. Oh hell no, you’re drunk. You’re going home if I have to drag you there before you kill somebody.”
He let her go and she stumbled. He went to steady her and she swiped his hand away as she recovered, “Go back inside with Miss Silicone and stay out of my business!”
The slurred sentences weren’t lost on his ears, neither were the way she braced herself, legs apart and the gentle sway. She was a very pretty drunk and an easy mark for unscrupulous men, innocent looking perverts like Antonio Vegas. “You’re drunk.”
“Pssst, not!”
Jessica watched quietly from the sideline their PDA. It was her acronym for Public Displayed Argument. She grimaced; damn shoes were starting to hurt her feet. She pulled them off and focused on the attractive pair in the center of the sidewalk exchanging words. She wished Alfonzo would cool it already, like damn, he was sitting in there with some chick and acting like Selange should sit home washing dishes or something.
“Primo, you wrong. Why don’t you chill and leave her the fuck alone!”