“Oh, Ilovethat for you! We should go to the Tiki Bar! It’s getting loads of hype! And I have these new strappy gold sandals I’m dying to wear!”
Well, so much for having George to herself for the night. “Okay,” Lizzie gave in. “I’ll shoot him a text.”
Lidia literally squealed in excitement. “Yay! Oh, I can’t wait! My pages have beenstarvedfor good outing content!” And just like that, she bounded off to get ready.
Lizzie sent George a message.
How about the Tiki Bar at 8? I’m bringing my little sis.
Little sis? The more the merrier. See you there.
Lizzie went off to get ready herself, trying to figure out what she could wear so she wouldn’t look like a schlub next to her sister.
When Lizzie heard the name “Tiki Bar,” she imagined some kitschy spot with palm fronds stuck to the roof and sand on the floor. What she saw when they pulled up were searchlights—as if this were a movie premiere—and crowds of people in line waiting to get in, even though it was just past 8, which is early for a Miami Friday night out.
“Thisis the Tiki Bar?” Lizzie asked Lidia, who was once more checking her flawless reflection in the visor mirror.
“Yeah, some basketball player opened it like a month ago, I think. Anyone who’s anyone has been posting about it.” Lidia got out of the car and adjusted her dress. She was in a nude shift dress with a shiny, metallic netted overlay that looked painted on. Combined with the golden strappy sandals and shiny, longhoney hair, she looked perfectly at ease in a place like this—with this much attention.
Lidia, although younger than Lizzie, was taller and thinner, with long legs and light eyes. Most people had a hard time accepting that they were sisters. Lizzie was a carbon copy of her dad andAbuela. Lidia? All her mom—although even their mom had never had the confidence or courage to wear the things or do the things Lidia would.
In contrast to her sister, Lizzie had worn high-waisted white linen shorts, an emerald silk blouse, and tan wedges. She thought she’d dressed well—not just in consideration of her curves, but for a night out—but now she felt out of place. “Am I dressed okay for this?” she asked Lidia.
Lidia looked at her with sympathy in her eyes. “Oh yeah, for sure! You look great—like you’re not trying too hard, you know? Like you just came from the office.” Then worried that wasn’t quite the compliment she meant it to be, she quickly added, “A really cute office!”
Lizzie didn’t feel any better hearing that—shehadtried hard—but decided there wasn’t much she could do now anyway, so they walked to the entrance. Lizzie really didn’t need to worry, she realized. Walking next to her sister, no one was looking at Lizzie.
The line ran down the side of the building, and Lizzie was about to turn to get to the end, but Lidia grabbed her arm and led her to the bouncer out front. The music was blaring, and Lidia leaned in to speak—so Lizzie couldn’t hear what was said—but she saw the kiss on the cheek, then both laughing, a big smile from Lidia, and like magic, the bouncer lifted the rope to let them in.Lidia magic,Lizzie thought.
“Do you see your guy?” Lidia asked. Thankfully, the music wasn’t blaring as much inside as it had been out front, so Lizzie could hear her.
“Well, he’s notmyguy… I mean, he’s nice and all, but I only just met him, so like…”
“Oh my God, Liz, I just mean is the guy we’re meeting here? You don’t have to, like, be a spaz,” Lidia said, rolling her eyes.
“Oh,” Lizzie said, blushing slightly, and scanned the room. Leaning effortlessly against a high-top table on the patio, she saw George, sipping a drink out of a highball and looking at his phone. “There,” Lizzie said, pointing.
George looked up as they approached and smiled warmly. He didn’t hide his eyes, scanning them as they made introductions and did the perfunctory cheek kisses. “You’re only, like, 20 minutes late—that’s basically early in Miami,” George said.
“Lizzie is crazy about being on time; she’s always rushing people,” Lidia chimed in, teasing. Lizzie shrugged—it was true. She hated being late, even though she hardly seemed able to avoid it with Miami traffic.
“I was worried you may not have been able to get in,” Lizzie said to George. George gave her a look that made her feel naive for even thinking it.
“I have my ways,” was all he said. “I need to get you, ladies, a drink. What are you having?”
“Gin and tonic for me,” Lizzie said.
“I want a Royal, but with St-Germain and…” Lidia stopped. “How about I go with you? It’s a lot to explain. Plus, I want to take some pics by the bar.”
George looked at Lizzie, not sure if she’d be okay holding the table. “Go,” Lizzie confirmed. “I’ll hold the table.” With that and a smile from Lidia, George took her arm, and off they went to the bar.
Left on her own, Lizzie could feel the draw of her phone, but she didn’t want to risk getting sucked into a work email. So instead, she opted to scan the room and do a little people-watching; one of her favorite pastimes.
The crowd seemed like a mix of young professionals and some middle-aged types trying to hold on to their youth. There were groups of women taking shots and acting like they didn’t care about men, while simultaneously dressed and acting in a way to attract the attention of men.
Then, off to the side, she saw what must be a VIP area. Cordoned off with comfortable seats and tables, it was slightly elevated over the rest of the club—a physical representation of the superiority an overpriced bottle could get you. She suddenly noticed a man in the area staring at her. A pair of slacks and a fitted button-up shirt over a muscular physique. And his face…
Wait…She knew that face. She was staring back at William Pemberley.
