1
Las Amigas
Tori got lucky.
She was sure that was what her friends had wanted to happen six months earlier on the night of her thirtieth birthday, only they hadn't really expected that it would.
Boring and predictable Victoria Rodriguez had thrown caution aside and indulged in a night of incredible -- she wanted to say sex, only it had been more than that -- with Gil. He totally lived up to her and her amigas' requirements for the title of Extreme Boy Toy, or as he had playfully become known, Mr. Perfect Papi Chulo. His moves on the dance floor were nothing like Ricky Martin's, but his moves in bed . . . Not to mention eyes as blue as the waters in Biscayne Bay and a lean sculpted body. But what really did her in was Gil's scrumptious little boy grin that just made her want to eat him up when he used it and exposed the cutest damn dimple she'd ever seen.
So now, six months later, she was not only living in sin with Gil -- albeit lusciously rewarding sin -- she was considering spending the rest of her life with him.
And Gil, her Perfect Papi Chulo, appeared to feel the same way.
This usually meant a ring and an engagement and a shower and a rehearsal, complete with dinner, followed by a wedding with lots and lots of friends and family, only . . .
The Tori that had emerged after that big birthday night didn't want to deal with all those conventions and the problems they usually wrought. She also had concerns about her family's reaction to the news, since nothing she did ever seemed to please them. More than anything, she wanted to get her amigas' impressions on what to do.
But she worried that her amigas, having just handled the defection of one of their high school friends to the bonds of holy matrimony, might not be ready for her revelation that she and Gil were thinking about making the big leap into marriage.
Lost in thought, Tori slowed her pace as she walked from Gil's oceanfront condo on Collins, where she now lived, toward her friends' restaurant on Ocean Drive. Since the condo lay just beyond the end of Lummus Park, the first block was relatively free of the tourists and party animals that crowded the central portion of the Art Deco district.
A strong ocean breeze blew across Lummus Park. A block away, he colorful pennants atop the Cardozo snapped with the breeze. A bit farther up, the oversized umbrellas protecting the alfresco dining area of another restaurant fluttered ominously. The breeze made it a little chilly for Tori. She slipped on her suit jacket as she passed by the mansion where Gianni Versace had once lived and died infamously. Before the black gates with the fanciful golden Versace emblems, fans and curiosity seekers posed for photos.
She stayed her course along the opposite sidewalk, where there was less activity. Normally she would have turned up Thirteenth Street to meet her friends at the Washington Avenue gym where they worked out on Monday nights. But tonight Adriana and Juliana had a meeting at their restaurant, which forced them to pass on the workout, but not their usual Monday night dinner afterward.
A dinner they were having at her friends' restaurant because of their prior engagement. Not that she minded. A goddess of the kitchen, Juli could make day-old bread tasty. Her skills, combined with Adriana's business savvy, had earned the nearly three-year-old restaurant its share of both local and national awards.
As she strolled to their building, one of the Mediterranean Revival structures along Ocean Drive, the breeze shifted direction and blew at her back as if to hurry her along, but she took her time, enjoying the view of South Beach's sizzle. Bronzed gods in muscle shirts and tourists in black socks and sandals. On the road beside her, car after car cruised along, from the latest luxury models to lovingly restored vehicles from the fifties and sixties. Their polished paints and gleaming chrome reflected the dazzling colors of the neon signs identifying the businesses along the street.
She ambled past the Clevelander Bar, Edison Hotel, and Larios to the heart of the Ocean Drive strip and her friends' restaurant. As she crossed the street, she noticed they had lowered the vinyl windshields to protect the patrons on the outdoor dining veranda from the breeze.
When she neared the hostess's podium, the young woman smiled in recognition and invited her to a table close to the windows along the veranda. "Juli and Adriana are almost done," she advised.
Tori could see her friends at the back of the restaurant, seated at a table with a bunch of business suit types. Suits much like hers, she thought as she glanced down at her conservative Brooks Brothers ensemble. She'd had time to drop off her car, but not to change before coming over to the restaurant. A complicated case had gotten even more complicated at the last minute, so the later time on this Monday night had proved helpful.
She had just taken a seat when the group at the back of the room broke up. The suits headed out of the restaurant while Juli and Adriana came her way.
Adriana wore an absolutely gorgeous dark green suit that perfectly accented her curvaceous but slender physique. Her precisely trimmed auburn hair framed the clean oval of her face, emphasizing her hazel green eyes. As always, Adriana's public face flawlessly represented the class and elegance of the restaurant and hotel.
Adriana was the brains of the business, while Juli's amazing culinary creations were the heart of it. A heart that rarely ventured into public, and when it did, like tonight, often seemed drab and tasteless. Totally unlike the food Juli prepared.
They embraced and were about to sit when Sylvia arrived.
Sylvia made heads turn, in an eye-catching golden gown that delineated her every asset. Long blonde hair swung in a curtain to the middle of her back, its silky texture reflecting a hue of gold and paler blonde highlights. She appeared ready for a bigger adventure than tonight's dinner -- probably because she needed to cover a story at one of South Beach's hot spots for the monthly magazine for which she worked as the After Dark and Gossip reporter.
Tori couldn't help but glance at her own five-four, size six body, trying not to feel intimidated by her less than ample -- but still perky -- breasts and curves, which were . . .
She stopped herself right there. Gil seemed to have no problems with her body. On the contrary, he couldn't keep his hands off her.
"Tori. Mother ship to Tori," Adriana said and waved a hand in front of her face, ripping her from thoughts of Gil.
Tori shook her head. "Perdoname. Just thinking about -- "
"Not work. Not with that googly-eyed look you just had on your face," Sylvia teased as she air-kissed all three of them and then slinked into the chair between Tori and Adriana.
Tori nodded but said nothing else, still a little anxious about giving her amigas the news that things between her and Gil were getting serious.
A waiter came by, sparing her from thinking about it further. He handed them menus and asked if they cared for drinks. As always, they ordered a round of ice cold mojitos and, after, deferred to Adriana and Juli's choices about what to order.
When the mojitos arrived, Tori held up the glass. "To life, love, and always being amigas," she said, much as she had said at every Monday night gathering for as long as she could remember.
As they toasted, a raucous crowd from the street distracted them.
In front of the restaurant, a large group of people clustered around a hot hip-hop artist who had recently opened a store on Washington for his new fashion line. If she hadn't recognized him, the billboard bling would have tipped her off. His name glittered in silver and diamonds on a large chain around his neck.
"Another typical crazy night," Adriana teased and shook her head.
"I'm surprised he hit this part of the Beach so early. I expect him at the party I'm covering later tonight," Sylvia replied just as the waiter came by with appetizers.
"Speaking of expecting, didn't Josie look nice yesterday?" Adriana said.
Josefina Maria de las Nieves Gonzalez -- now Mrs. Josie Johnson -- was the most recent of their high school friends to be wed.
"Expecting?" Tori blurted out as Adriana's comment finally registered. "As in -- "
"She had to marry the guy," Sylvia confirmed. "Josie's been living with him for what?"
"Three years. You'd think she'd be beyond the guilt factor by now," Juliana mused out loud, seemingly embarrassed by the discussion.
Adriana spooned up some garlicky shrimp and continued the conversation. "It must have been a massive dose of guilt for her to give in. Josie was always the most stubborn of us."
"And one of the most independent," Sylvia acknowledged as she finally helped herself to some of the appetizers.
Tori perused her friends as she took a sip from her mojito. She had never been one for bucking the status quo -- her relationship with Gil was the biggest risk of her entire life. Before the night she had become Sinfully Sexy Tori with Gil, she had been Toe the Line Tori, always ready to do what everyone asked of her. But not anymore. Well, at least not as often.
Since she wanted to share her news, she decided to take another risk. "Maybe she wanted to. Maybe it was time."
Both Sylvia and Adriana dropped their forks, which clattered against their plates. Aghast silence followed as all of her friends looked at her. They all knew that once a friend got married, things changed, and usually not for the better. But Tori couldn't imagine not being friends with these women. They were as close as sisters.
"You know, the odds are that eventually we're all going to end up married," she said, but glanced at her drink and played with the condensation on its surface to avoid her friends' inquisitive gazes.
"Are you trying to tell us something?" Tori heard a hint of anxiety in Adr...
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