Chapter 7 : Girls

Aria

The restaurant is low-lit, all golden warmth and soft jazz, the kind of place that makes you feel like you're living in a Vogue spread. The air smells like truffle fries and overpriced ambition. I'm sandwiched in a booth between two of the most chaotic women I know.

Tonight? I’m good. I’ve got a red dress, a tall glass of sangria, and friends who never let me drown.

Karissah raises her glass. “To us, French fries, and absolutely no male species”

We clink. Hard.

Elena laughs into her mojito, eyes sparkling. “You are so extra.”

Karissah flips her braids over one shoulder with exaggerated elegance. “Thank you. I do try.”

“So,” I say, leaning back. “What’s the latest from the battlefield?”

Karissah grins like she’s been waiting all week for this question. “Okay, so remember that guy I told you about…the one with the sleeve tattoos and the six-pack and the vocabulary of a small-town priest?”

Elena groans. “Please don’t say you're still talking to him.”

“Oh, I’m not talking,” Karissah says smugly. “We’re communicating. Emotionally. Physically. Occasionally through memes.”

I cackle. “So it’s a situationship.”

“Exactly! The best kind. No rules. No expectations. Just vibes and delusion.”

Elena raises an eyebrow. “How’s that going for you?”

Karissah shrugs. “I think I’m in love, but also I never want to see him in daylight.”

I almost spit out my drink. “Iconic behavior.”

We fall into a burst of laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt and your soul lighter. It’s exactly what I needed.

“So,” Karissah says, eyes gleaming now, “when are we going to throw Aria back into the dating pool?”

I lift my brow. “Excuse me?”

“Come on,” she says, “you’ve been celibate longer than the Vatican.”

“That is absolutely false,” I protest. “I just, umm …haven’t had time.”

“You own a bakery, not a space station. Make time.”

Elena, ever the peacekeeper, sips her drink with a sly smile. “She’s not wrong.”

I throw my napkin at her. “Whose side are you on?”

“The side of your future,” she deadpans. “You deserve joy. Or at least someone to make out with on a rooftop.”

Karissah’s grin is wicked. “I actually have someone in mind. Blind date. Very cute. Big shoulders. Works in finance, but the nice kind. Not the soul-stealing kind.”

I hesitate for half a second. “You had me at big shoulders.”

“Hell yes!” Karissah slams her palm on the table. “I’ll set it up for this weekend. Casual dinner, dim lighting, maybe a shared dessert if you like him.”

Elena claps like a proud stage mom. “This is happening.”

And I let it. I let the joy rise, the thrill of maybe. Even if part of me is pretending. Even if someone else’s voice still echoes in the quiet moments.

Tonight, Damien is far away. Not at my door, not in my bakery, not in my thoughts. I curse the day I went to that gala.

Almost.

I take a deep breath and look at Elena, noticing the way she’s been quiet for the past few minutes. “So, last night, you mentioned you had something you wanted to talk about? What’s up?”

Elena smiles faintly, her gaze flicking to Karissah before meeting mine. She takes a sip of her mojito and leans in a little. “Actually, I have good news. That contract we’ve been waiting on to expand your bakery? It went through.”

I sit up straight, the rush of excitement hitting me immediately. “Wait, for real?”

She nods. “Yep. We’re looking at locations in the next city over. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll be ready to sign within the month.”

I can’t help but grin. “This is huge, Elena. I mean, I’ve been thinking about expanding, but having it all lined up like this? It’s everything I wanted. You’ve been a lifesaver.”

Elena shrugs it off with a modest smile. “It’s my job. I just made sure you got the right people on board.”

My heart swells a little, and I reach across the table to give her hand a squeeze. “You really do have this gift for making things happen, you know?”

“I know,” she says, eyes sparkling now with pride. “But there’s more.”

I tilt my head. “What’s more?”

She leans in a little closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m seriously thinking about quitting my job at the consulting firm. I want to open my own business. Something in the creative industry.”

I blink. “Wait, what? You’re actually going to leave?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Elena admits. “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. The job at the firm has been… fine. But I want more. I want to build something from the ground up, and I have the resources to make it work.”

Karissah raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Is your family on board with that?”

“Yeah,” Elena says, exhaling slowly. “They’ll support me. It’s not exactly a risky move for me…given the financial cushion I have. But it’s still a big decision. I want to do something I’m passionate about, not just what’s expected.”

“Damn,” I say, leaning back. “I think that’s amazing, Elena. Seriously. You’re going to kill it.”

Karissah grins widely. “I’m here for it. Maybe you can design your own office and I’ll help you furnish it. I’m great with mood boards.”

Elena laughs, the tension from earlier finally lifting. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

We linger in that moment of happy silence for a few seconds, letting the excitement and relief settle. I feel a little lighter, knowing Elena is so close to making her dreams a reality.

Then Karissah, ever the instigator, suddenly snaps her fingers. “Okay, okay, back to the important stuff.”

I groan. “No more gossip, please.”

“Oh, it’s not,” Karissah insists, her eyes dancing with mischief. “But Miss Elena has been quiet on the man front, what’s going on babes”

“Yesss Elena” I echo, wiggling my eyebrows, “Any new developments in the love department?”

Elena’s expression shifts…just slightly. She picks up a fry, bites into it, then gives us a casual shrug that’s way too calculated. “There might be someone,” she says lightly. “But it’s… new.”

Karissah and I exchange a look like bloodhounds on a scent. “Elena.” I lean forward. “Who is he?” “

He works in the mining sector.”

I blink. “Okay, that’s… specific and vague at the same time.”

“I’m keeping it private for now,” she says, but there’s a blush creeping up her neck.

Karissah gasps. “You like him.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” I nudge her.

“Is this serious?” Elena just sips her drink and says nothing.

We erupt with squeals, mock shouts, and a few dramatic accusations. It’s a sacred ritual, this joy, this teasing. A way of holding each other through the madness of our lives.

Karissah raises her glass again. “To new men, old mistakes, and friends who don’t let you repeat them.” We clink again. The sound is clear and clean and real. I smile, because tonight, I’m okay. And there is a little spark for the future.