Page 95 of No Sweeter Poison

“Anyone know what’s for dinner?” I dab my forehead with a towel.

“I don’t know, but I’m starving.” Diego laments. “I haven’t eaten in at least two hours.”

Lettie and I laugh.

My greatest solace the last few months was the friendship I developed with Lettie and Diego. From the moment I got here they strove to make me feel comfortable and safe. With them I feel a comradery I’ve never experienced before and I wonder if this is what it’s like to have siblings. If I’m upset, I know Lettie will be there to help take my mind off things and when that doesn’t work, Diego is there, ready to help me channel that energy elsewhere.

Lettie pulled me out of the depths of my depression, dusted me off, and made me new again. Even though I’m a little older than her, I don’t feel the age difference between us. We watch old Disney movies together, give each other facials, and drink champagne in our robes whenever I’m feeling down. Most importantly, she saw in me what I never saw for myself.

She saw that I was beautiful.

And I don’t just mean physically, although, that counts for something too. She doesn’t let me hide behind my clothes or languish over superficial things like how tall or short I am, how my body looks in certain outfits, if I’m fat or skinny or whatever else exists in between. Most of my bravado is scrounged up but not Lettie. She radiates confidence from within and she’s never afraid to let that light shine on me.

“Wear something nice,” Lettie tells us. “We can go to El Rey’s after dinner.”

I salute them both as I head to my bedroom. “Got it, chief.”

As soon as I get my room, I peel out of my sweaty workout clothes and jump into a cold shower. After, I slip into a robe and towel dry my hair while putting my phone to charge by the nightstand. Since we’re going to El Rey after dinner, I’ll have to put something presentable on. Lettie will have a heart attack if I show up in anything less than show topping. I’m combing through racks of clothes in the walk-in closet when my phone rings. I answer on my MacBook instead because my phone is charging in the bedroom.

“Whoa!”

I turn around and Karina adjusts her glasses. She uses them to read sometimes.

“Whose closet is that?”

“Mine.” I hang up the dress I was holding and approach my laptop. “Look who decided to rise from the dead.”

“Ugh, Prima, don’t be like that.” She groans and snuggles up under the covers. I wonder what she’s doing in bed in the middle of the day. “Maybe I should’ve stayed in Spain. I could be a kept woman right now instead of picking out China patterns because my incompetent fiancé can’t make up his mind.”

Things between Karina and I have been strange the last two months. I can’t tell if it’s because the wedding with Brent is getting closer or if it’s the distance putting a strain on our relationship. We’ve never been this long without seeing each other before and while I admit it’s been weird, I don’t find myself missing her as much as I thought I would. Most of its to do with the fact I’m still royally pissed she’s been MIA most of the summer. I’m the little cousin she ditched in Barcelona to go salvage a toxic relationship with a terrible fiancé—I think I’m entitled to being upset.

Only problem is, she’s confusing my anger with distance but I don’t know how to articulate to her that we aren’t the issue. It’s her choice in husband that’s putting a wedge between us. Part of me almost tells her she wouldn’t be having this problem if she called off the wedding but decide against it. Last thing I want is for her to hang up on me after she’s finally called me for the first in ages. Best thing I get nowadays are spotty texts and memes.

Karina dives into a rant about wedding preparations and I let her as I get dressed and do my makeup. She helps me decide between a Dolce and Gabbana purse or a Chanel clutch; the Dolce and Gabbana matches the aesthetic of my outfit better, and then I pick out a pair of heels from the wall behind my laptop.

“Anyway.” She sighs. “How’s your hot European lover?”

“In Italy on business.” Has been for the last three days but didn’t tell me what for. I walk over to the island where my MacBook is and turn it around. I need to open the drawers here but don’t want Karina to think I’m ignoring her. “Do you think I should wear chains or a choker?”

“Both, layer them.”

I nibble on my bottom lip as I shuffle through my jewelry boxes. “You’re so right. I think I want to wear the Van Cleef…”

Karina eyes my skeptically. “What exactly does this guy do again?”

Mm…no, I don’t think I want the Van Cleef. I exchange it for the Boucheron box and take out the necklace inside. This choker is my favorite because lying down it looks like the sun. It’ll look much better with the gold chains I bought with Lettie last week.

“Uh…his family is in finance.” Shit, was it finance? No, I got that wrong. “They have a whole bunch of businesses.”

What’s the main one and why can’t I remember?

“Distribution! Yes, there you go. That.” I hold up a pair of bracelets. “Is this overkill?”

“Dahlia…” her gaze hardens. “He buys youthousands of dollars’ worth of stuff?”

You know, I actually liked it better when she was bitching about Brent. She didn’t pay close attention to what I was wearing or how much it cost.

“Are things that serious with him?”