Cursed by Fate: Obsession of the D'Angeli

Lisa breezes into the restaurant and I raise my gaze to her. She grins as she makes her way to where I am seated. Her three-inch sandals tap the limestone floor as she walks by.

"Hey, bestie." She looks excited as she drops her colorful tote bag on the table before me and scans the hall expectantly. My guess is she either just completed a painting...or she knows my brother is coming.

"You look excited. Have you finally finished Cleopatra's Jewel?" I give her a suspicious look as I pull out my phone and text my brother.

Me: Bro, you're running fifteen minutes late.

Lisa shakes her head. "That painting's a bitch. I spent the afternoon getting some much needed sleep." She takes a glance across the full restaurant again.

I sigh as I watch her. A text buzzes into my phone.

José: Sorry, something came up. I'll be there in ten minutes.

"José will be here in ten," I tell Lisa.

She smiles, showing her beautiful set of teeth. "I'm sure I already knew. You don't usually invite me for dinner except when he's coming."

I silently curse myself for being so predictable. But I'm more concerned about other things though. "You know, under normal circumstances, this unhealthy infatuation you have for my brother should ruin our friendship."

"But you love me," Lisa sings happily.

She's right. It doesn't matter that she's currently involved in a one-sided romance with my brother. She's the best. She's super dependable and we've been friends since college. A beautiful artist with hair as dark as chocolate and a banging body. I'm surprised my brother doesn't notice this and I only imagine that it frustrates her.

"I'm saying this because I love you. José... José is married to his work. I'm not sure he would notice even if love bit him in the ass." I page the menu, looking for something I hopefully won't regret.

The last time I wanted to try something different, it didn't end well. I couldn't stop thinking that the soup tasted like how boiled boots would taste if they were ever cooked... with lots of spices.

Lisa looks like she just figured out the last piece to a very important puzzle. "I think it's precisely because he's tied to his work that he doesn't notice me." When I register my confusion, she continues. "Clearly, his job is just too interesting. I wouldn't be surprised to find out he's low-key in the mob. He might even be a member of the CIA or some other international spy organization like that. Their lives are very interesting, you know. Full of action. Most women are sapiosexual- I mean, any woman would be turned on by a man that is fucking intelligent it's almost oppressive. Brain over brawn or shit. But sometimes I just want testosterone, baby. Those guys...they have lots and lots of it. "

I turn around the restaurant to check that there are not a lot of people who witness my best friend embarrassing me in public. On top of that, she's talking about my brother. This is why your best friend shouldn't date your brother. There's bound to be information floating between you two that should legit be labeled with the TMI tag.

"You sound like a horny creep. Have some decency."

But Lisa just laughs. "Think about it. I might be right. Those unexplained trips that big brother goes on and doesn't tell you about? How he's never around yet you two live together?"

I laugh. Because it's hilarious. José is too boring for that kind of life. "Don't be ridiculous," I say. "My brother is a boring police detective. The most exciting thing in his day would probably be a colleague bringing in a cup of coffee while he's poring over legions of police reports."

Lisa shrugs anyway, saying, "His bad boy aura is a real pull though," and I want to ask her to drop the topic but I must admit that her thoughts are amusing.

But that is one of the best things about her. How she is so creative, carefree and yet so talented. Her paintings make big bucks in the art galleries she has partnerships with and she works whenever she likes, however she likes (with art, the threshold of definition is quite wide). She even dresses how she likes to work- which is her open floor plan workspace directly over her living room.

Unlike me who is dressed in a black suit jacket and skirt, having come directly from my workplace, she's wearing harem pants, a halter neck top and half of her hair is tied in a handkerchief. So damn carefree.

"You sound so ridiculous." I roll my eyes.

She gnaws on her pinky finger nail as her eyes skim the menu.

"At least I'm making an attempt to find a man," she counters. "You're a fucking celibate when it comes to these things."

Did I mention she swears like a sailor?

"I've only met my fair share of assholes so I'm on a break," I tell her.

She agrees. She knows why I don't even discuss my ex. "Plus your new head of department."

"Please-"

"-That guy stares at you like a fucking predator," Lisa continues. "File a complaint against him so that his ass ends up in jail."

"He's my direct superior," I warn her. "And apart from some inappropriate comments, he doesn't really do anything. I can't file a complaint for that now, can I? The creep would just plead misinterpretation on my part. And then mark my name so he can torture me some more. He added me to the team for a report gathering at Parliament. Now I have to go there everyday with the rest of those assigned that beat."

"No!" Lisa looks like she doesn't believe it. "You hate that shit."

"It's boring. Half of what I hear, I don't even understand and I'm supposed to take note of everything."

"I still don't get it." Lisa adjusts on her seat. "You still appear on the evening news with a smile anyone can drown in. Like your job is all glamor and T.V. All of this politeness and courtesy and politics you do in your workplace, I wouldn't be able to stand it. I would be fired in my first week."

And that is why she's the artist and I'm the reporter.

I grab my phone to text my brother once again but then the restaurant door opens and he's there, making his way towards us. He takes after our father. He has thick, unruly hair and about six feet of height. Not me that needs four inches of heel to reach his cheek.

He reaches me and pecks my hair. I smile at him. "Took you long enough."

He turns to Lisa. "Hello."

Lisa gives him a wide smile, her cheeks coloring instantly. "Hi."

"Have you ladies had something to eat?"

"No, we've been waiting for your highness to make an appearance." I pull him down to sit.

I don't like the way he looks impatient, like he would easily just turn and leave for one task by his boss or the other like he used to. I hold on to his arm like it could stop him from leaving even if he wanted to.

He laughs at my words. "Nicole… I already apologized." He waves a waiter over.

I shrug and tap my finger on the menu. "I've already made up my mind. I'm taking the potato, salmon and asparagus salad."

José's eyes appraise me. "Not your regular?"

"I'm trying something different tonight."

"I think I should do the same," Lisa chirps. "What does their tortellini taste like?"

I shake my head. "Don't go there. Just go for a classic pasta."

José throws me a gaze as Lisa laughs and decides to change her mind. "I'm sure it's not that bad-"

Before he can finish his sentence, his phone buzzes beside his hand on the table. It sounds so insistent in my ears that for a while it's all I can hear. I should know that my older brother's phone has only ever been on vibrate for as long as I've known him yet every new call rings in my head with the intensity of actual words singing "Pick up the phone. Pick it up," only it's not a singsong voice. It's a snappy, annoyed, slightly menacing voice saying that.

This is crazy. And sometimes I just don't know the kind of things that run in my head. It might also be Lisa too. I can't get her words out. Why is José's job so demanding?

José hesitates for a few seconds as he watches his phone vibrate on the table in the silence that ensues between us. He finally declines the call from whoever it is. When he raises his gaze to us, the waiter is here.

He smiles at me and I smile back. "Time to order," he says.