Page 65 of Here to Stay
I got out of the car and walked to the entrance. It was cool, but not freezing. The sun was setting and the air felt crisp in that way that it does in the fall. I walked in the direction the information desk person told me I needed to go, and took my time appreciating the surroundings. The foliage looked so vibrant against the late afternoon glow. It wasn’t Central Park in the fall, but it was beautiful in its own way. The magnolia and pecan trees scattered around the grounds felt familiar and comforting.
I came up to the entrance of the area where the rest of the exiles where waiting and spotted them right away. Dani and Tariq were standing by a tall table while José and Salome were in line for what looked like a wine and beer bar. They stood close, engrossed in conversation. They seemed like they’d been friends forever, and that’s how it felt to me too. When I looked at them, I saw people I could count on, people who knew me and liked me. Dallas was no longer a place I was stuck in. It was a place I’d been building something. Just like my dad told me.
I frowned as I walked up, noticing that I did not see Rocco anywhere. Did he cancel because of me?
I never responded to his text saying he was not going to come to the Kennedy Tour with me and my parents last Saturday. It was Wednesday now. He wouldn’t just not show; he would’ve said something in the group chat. Unless he didn’t want me to know.
Fuck. I needed to stop this shit. There was no use in agonizing about it. This was all for the best. I knew that.Heknew that.
I came up to the small table where Dani and Tariq were standing and greeted them with kisses on the cheek. “Hello, hello.” I waved my hand around. “This is certainly festive.”
Dani rolled his eyes and took a sip from his glass of red wine. He had forgone his usual business casual attire for well-fitting dark jeans and an oatmeal sweater. He looked like the very picture of autumnal fashion and would mostly likely have one of us take pictures of him for the Gram at some point. I turned and looked at Tariq, who must have come straight from work because he was wearing charcoal slacks and a light blue oxford shirt under a very stylish black trench coat. I was not going to ask him if he knew where Rocco was. “Well don’t you two look handsome.”
They both smiled and complimented my outfit. I’d done a lot more than I usually did for work, but I knew I’d be coming here after and, well, I could lie to others, but not myself. I’d wanted to look good in case I saw Rocco. Because nothing said healthy coping like getting all sexy for a guy who made you come in his hallway before you ghosted him.
I angled my head in the direction of Salome and José, who had seen me and were waving me over. “I’m going to say hi to those two. Salome said you guys were being a handful. We need to keep an eye on you two.”
Tariq gave me a cheeky smile and shook his head, feigning innocence. “Us? Never. Rocco’s the one usually causing mischief.”
Dani chuckled at that and took another sip of wine. Just hearing Rocco’s name made my stomach dip. I looked around again, hoping to see him. But he was nowhere to be found. I was literally biting my tongue to keep from asking, but for better or worse Dani opened his mouth and put me out of my misery.
“Speaking of the devil, here he comes. That’s Caroline, the ‘gym buddy.’” I looked up and saw him walking with the woman from the Insta photo, so close their arms brushed as they walked. I’d never considered myself a jealous person, and intentionally tried never to fall under the stereotype of the possessive Latinx woman, but I was vibrating with the urge to go and pry them apart. Tell her that she was too close, that those clothes, those eyes, that cologne were for me. Not hers.Mine.
I heard someone clearing their throat and realized I’d stopped in the middle of talking to Tariq and Dani to glare at Rocco and his new friend.
“Soooooo, I see you spotted him.”
I turned to see Salome and José standing by our table, drinks in hand. José, who was my favorite, handed me a glass of prosecco, and put his arms out for a hug hello. One of his eyebrows was perched high on his forehead and his eyes were zeroed in on the offending parties, who bypassed us and waved in the direction of the bar instead of coming to say hello. This was a beer and wine event. It wasn’t a personal affront to me. Rationally I knew that. It did not keep me from wanting to push tall-and-skinny off him and put my arm around his waist.
I forced myself to chill the hell out and gave José a tight squeeze. “I missed you, friend. How was New Mexico?”
“It was good. How’s you?”
I twisted my mouth to the side in answer and turned to give a kiss to Salome.
“Querida. I love this dapper fall lewk,” I said, admiring her emerald-green corduroy jacket and her gray shirt and slacks. “I’m loving it.”
See, I could be normal. Chat with friends and focus on things that were not Rocco.
José nodded appreciatively. “She got that jacket at the sample sale you wouldn’t come with us to.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t do sample sales for that designer because they have nothing bigger than a size twelve and I’d rather spend my time where they can cater to my body.”
José dipped his head in agreement. “Point taken. If they’re not smart enough to make clothes that you can show off with that luscious ass and gorgeous tits, then that’s their problem. Right, Rocco?”
What the fuck?
José winked at me like I was in on his joke as I made a full about-face to find Rocco Fucking Quinn standing behind me. He’d somehow gotten even more handsome over the past few days.
And yes, “she” was still there. I guess they decided to come and say hello before getting that drink after all. Swell.
I just stood there like a robot as he nodded, apparently in agreement with José. “Any designer who’d overlook a body like Julia’s is a fool.” He said it looking straight at me. The heat as he ran his eyes over me was so intense, it could’ve left a trail of blisters on my skin.
I didn’t answer, but I leaned up to him and kissed his cheek. He returned the kiss and placed a hand on the small of my back, just for a moment, pressing his fingers in. When I pulled back, he was smiling, relief etched all over his face.
“It’s good to see you, Rocco.” I could be cordial, friendly. Nobody needed to get their wig snatched up in here. “How’s Ms. Pulga?”
His smile widened and he lifted his hand to show me a few scratches. “She’s giving me hell, but at least she stopped shredding my door.”
