“I guess that is all I can ask, dear one.”
Phew! The end of the conversation is in sight, I pondered wickedly to myself.
With a few more niceties and a bye-bye, I am granted a reprieve, but the conversation left a sour taste in my mouth. When Tiresa and I were close, I would have been the first person she told about her impending engagement. How times change. A part of me misses that and wishes things could be different, yet another part of me thinks I can never trust her again with intimate details of my life because of her betrayal.
Riyaan’s blurred voice focuses back into clarity as I return to the present. He rolls his eyes at Cat, annoyed at something she had said. “So when’s the wedding?”
“In nine months.”
“Are you going?” he inquires.
“Of course not!” I snap. “Why would I want to see the two persons who stabbed me in the back get married in some rich, extravagant ceremony and overblown reception?”
“Well, I think you should,” Riyaan plays with his multiple bracelets and cuffs. “Show them they can’t keep a good woman down. Show up on the arm of a drop-dead gorgeous guy and shove it in their faces.”
“Like where is she going to find a drop-dead gorgeous guy?” Cat asks.
“Riyaan’s right, Bella,” Sands nods. “You need to stand up for yourself. Make an appearance to send the message that you’re better than them.” She giggles. “Even better—wear black.”
I sip my mocacchino, the chocolaty-coffee-frothiness a warming comfort. “The only message I’d send is that Mika made the right choice in dumping the frumpy sister for the hot one.”
“Not if you lost weight,” says Sands. I give her a dirty look. We’ve been down this road before. She holds up her hands in surrender. “I’m just saying. I can train you. It will take a while but the effort is worth the reward. And then you can show up to the wedding in some slinky cocktail dress and make Mika regret leaving you.”
“Of course” I say sourly. “It’s that simple. You know successful I’ve been in the past with dieting.”
“Never mind,” Riyaan waves the idea aside. “I’ll be your date to the wedding just as you are. Forget diets. What do you say?”
“That idea sucks,” says Cat. “Gay date with the fat girl: it’ll be too obvious that she couldn’t find anyone else to go with her.”
“Then we’ll find someone for her. Do you know of anyone?” he asks Sands. “All my guy friends are gay, which is obviously not acceptable to some persons.” He shoots Cat a glare.
“There are lots of guys who have memberships at my gym,” Sands offers.
“Are you crazy?” asks Cat.
“That’s rich, coming from you,” mutters Riyaan.
Cat ignores him. “Using your business to fix up your friend with a date is tantamount to an escort service.”