“I can’t imagine those two driving.”
“You don’t even want to know. When they’re both in one car, they’re lethal. One has severe road rage and the other blasts the music at full volume.” I laugh, trying to imagine the twins in a car.
“I can’t believe how big they’re getting. I remember the days when we were eighteen and they were freshly fourteen. I saw Cleo’s Instagram a few days ago, and she’s getting really good.” She nods.
“Her and the MUA influencer dream, her looks and style keep getting shinier by the day. I swear she’s like a shedding cat but instead of hair it’s glitter.” I chuckle. “I bet Chanel hates that.” I take another sip of my coffee.
“Oh, she does. I hear her tell Cleo constantly that she’s tacky, you know her, and the haute le mode. She actually saw your collaboration with Adèle and freaked out. You know that her dream is to work as a designer there.” I nod. “I thought of her when I was in the atelier. It totally fits her vibe and everything. Hyperfeminine and such.”
“Yep. Chanel may not have said nice things about the collection, but she did say you looked great. You know her and the color black don’t match. I swear, the only thing those two have in common is their taste in men. Unattainable and much older.” I still.
“How so?” I question, interested.
“You know girls and their crushes. Cleo is obsessed with this painter, Exodus Wolf. He’s a judge on her favorite British makeup reality TV show. And naturally, Chanel is obsessed with Antoine Manon, the prestigious heir to the Adèle fashion house. Both are twenty years older. Sometimes I don’t understand how we are blood related. I mean, I got sports, and they got glamour. I still love the two heathens though.” She shrugs.
“At least we have one thing in common,” I mutter under my breath, hoping Vio won’t catch it.
“What do you mean by having one thing in common?” She looks at me with interest. “Nothing.” I try to guide the situation somewhere else. “Ale. I’m your best friend. You know you can tell me anything and I’ll take it to my grave.” She reassures me but also seems offended that I haven’t told her something. But this shit is a bomb the size of Jupiter, and I don’t know how to say it without an over-the-top reaction. But knowing Violetta, she won’t have any reaction and she might stay quiet for a second.
“I may be seeing someone way older than me.”
“Who?” She asks in interest.
“Remember the person I used to text you about saying that I wanted to push him off of a building?” She processes my words, eyes wide once the realization hits.
“No,” she whispers.
“Maybe.” I look at her observantly, waiting for her next reaction.
“But he’s your boss, Ale.”
“Yeah, I know, that makes it sound even worse than it is.” I rub my forehead in discomfort. “The man is eighteen years older, but at the same time, good for you I guess.” I look up at her in shock.
“I was not expecting you to be so open to it, Vio.” I look at her with my mouth agape.
“It is kind of shocking, but when I think about it more, you’ve always liked people who challenge you. I’ve known since we were fourteen that you were going to end up with someone with balls as big as yours, figuratively and literally speaking.”
“You’re exaggerating.” I roll my eyes.
“Your taste has always been very selective,” she responds.
“Right, just like my first boyfriend who turned out to be a psychopath. Yeah, my taste is just great,” I say sarcastically.
“You’re right. I understand the swearing off of all blondes thing. He was horrible, but you’ve always liked a challenge. Believe it or not, your ex was more than a challenge, and you liked the thrill.”
“Like you haven’t been obsessed with my brother all yourpinchelife.” I look at her with a smirk on my face, and she slaps me on the shoulder playfully.
“I don’t like him anymore, especially with the whole I’m-the-devil-himself thing.” I knew Violetta was obsessed with my brother since we were young, always following him around. At the time, he wasn’t who he is today, which happens to be a cold-blooded killer. As I’ve said before, I love him to death, but he has a lot of blood on his hands.
Before my father molded him into his heir, he was nice and funny. Exactly Violetta’s type. Until he knew she was obsessed with him, and he told her right to her face that he was the devil incarnate. She says she’s sworn him off since then, but I don’t believe her. My brother is many things, and one of them is a charmer with the ladies.
She’s known about my family since she was young. Her family is based in Mexico City, and they also have a house in Acapulco that my father took a liking to. He asked Violetta’s father if he could use it a few times. He welcomed him with open arms, thinking he was the CEO everyone thinks him to be. Until he caught him smuggling drugs into a car. Weirdly enough, both of our dads are fucked up, so he didn’t even flinch. Both families are old friends. At least her dad didn’t kill his wife, that would be too perfect for the both of them.
“I prefer more of the golden retrievers type now,” she says, trying to convince me she’s over my brother.
“I guess we just have very different opinions when it comes to men.” She laughs. “Have you told him about your family yet?” I sigh. One more thing I have to think about. “About that. His whole family has a vendetta against organized crime, so nope, not going to do that ever.”
“You’re going to have to tell him eventually. He’s your boyfriend.” I hear that word and cringe. “He’s not my boyfriend.”