Force of Nature

Force of Nature
Júlia

Angel was the kind of friend you simply couldn’t ignore—a force of nature who refused to accept half-truths. And today, her curiosity was on high alert, written in bold capital letters.

We met at a charming restaurant downtown, close to my new construction firm. The place was modern, with large glass windows and minimalist décor, yet noisy enough to offer a sense of privacy.

The moment she saw me, Angel stood up with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes—her investigative smile.

“Finally!” she said as soon as I sat down, before I could even take my bag off my shoulder. She waved at the waiter, dismissed the menu without looking at it, and rested her chin in her hands, leaning across the table. “Now tell me everything!”

I rolled my eyes, picking up the drink menu mostly for something to hold.
“Everything what, Angel?”

She raised an eyebrow theatrically. Angel’s gaze was like a laser beam.
“Júlia, don’t even try to play dumb with me. I want to know what possessed you to ask me for Ricardo Alcântara’s address.”

I sighed, already knowing there was no way out. With Angel, silence wasn’t just suspicious—it was an invitation.
“Actually, Ricardo and I… already knew each other,” I began, my voice lower than the restaurant’s hum. “It was in Brotas, a few months ago.”

Angel nearly jumped out of her chair.
“Brotas?!” Her shout was so sharp it drew a few curious glances from nearby tables. “What do you mean, Brotas? Explain yourself, woman!”

I let out a nervous laugh, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.
“It was… kind of by accident. I was at a bar, and so was he. We talked all night and…” I hesitated, staring down at my hands on the table, searching for the right words to describe what was, essentially, a one-night connection. “We spent the night together.”

Angel’s eyes widened. The fork she’d been holding slipped from her fingers, clinking against her plate.
“Oh. My. God.” She paused, eyes blazing with a mix of shock and excitement. “And you didn’t tell me?! You slept with Ricardo Alcântara and just kept quiet?!”

“He was just a stranger,” I murmured, my face burning. “I thought I’d never see him again, to be honest. I didn’t even know who he really was at the time.”

The waiter arrived with our juices and sparkling water. I took the opportunity to sip mine, grateful for the short reprieve. Angel waited, patient as a predator, and the moment the waiter walked away, she pounced again.

“All right, pause the make-out story. What’s this about you working at Alcântara Construtora? How did Henrique finally talk you into it?”

“Actually, Henrique had nothing to do with it,” I said hesitantly, the lie sitting heavy on my tongue.

“He didn’t?” Angel’s smile faded, replaced by genuine confusion.

I told her how I’d discovered that the stranger from Brotas was Ricardo, Henrique’s cousin, at the birthday party—and how the reunion had completely blindsided me.

“Fate is playing games with you, girl. This is a full-blown telenovela!” Angel laughed, leaning back with the delight of someone watching a plot twist unfold.

“I actually thought he’d gotten my address from you after that night at the club,” I admitted.

“Oh, he did call me,” she said, frowning as she tried to recall. “But I was half-asleep. He said he had a job offer for you and wanted to talk in person. I thought it was just another one of Henrique’s schemes to get your number. So I told him I’d pass it along.”

“Well, it wasn’t. It was him for real.”

Angel’s expression sobered, her excitement now tinted with curiosity.
“All right. So what happened after he showed up at your apartment?”

“When he came, he said he wanted to offer me a job.”

“And you accepted, which makes me so happy.”

“Yes. But the problem is—he had a second proposal.” My voice came out low, almost a whisper. The weight of that confession hit me all over again.

Angel leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes sparkling with pure intrigue.
“Now we’re talking. What was the second proposal? Spill it!”

“He asked me to be his girlfriend.”

The silence that followed was short but deafening. It lasted just long enough for Angel to process what I’d said—before she burst into a fit of incredulous laughter, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What?! He just asked you out like that—out of nowhere—after one night and bumping into you at his cousin’s party?”

I nodded, stirring my juice with the straw to avoid her eyes.
“It was unexpected for me too. He said he’s trying to get over someone—this woman, Alicia—and that he believes the connection we had could turn into something real.”

“I’m honestly shocked by Ricardo’s behavior,” Angel said, her tone shifting into thoughtful analysis. “It doesn’t match his usual pattern. From what I’ve heard, he’s been hung up on Alicia for years. Nicolas and Henrique are always telling him to snap out of it.”

“Looks like their intervention finally worked.”

“I’m glad he’s decided to forget that witch,” Angel said, scrunching up her nose at the name. “But what about you? I get that you took the job—which, by the way, makes me ecstatic—but what about the relationship thing? What did you say?”

I set my straw down and met her gaze firmly.
“I don’t plan on accepting.”

I explained my reasoning. After thinking it through, I realized there was no good reason to start anything with him. I wouldn’t be anyone’s “safe harbor” or “bandage,” especially not for a man who’d admitted he still wasn’t over someone else. I’d come to terms with the fact that I was very attracted to Ricardo—that it was undeniable—but I wouldn’t compete for anyone’s affection or attention.

“I get you,” Angel said softly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand—a gesture of sincere support. “Especially since Henrique says he’s in love with you. It would be a real mess if you and his cousin started dating. I’m sure he’d be furious with Ricardo, and things would get ugly fast.”

“You actually believe that whole love thing Henrique talks about?” I arched a brow, questioning her optimism.

Angel gave a mischievous grin, her eyes glinting with amusement.
“No,” she said with a low, conspiratorial laugh. “After you left the club Saturday night, Henrique turned into the filling of a sandwich between a brunette and a redhead. But... he thinks he’s in love. And that’s the problem. His emotional confusion is real—and that’s what you should watch out for.”

When lunch ended and we said goodbye on the sidewalk, I returned to work feeling relieved to have vented—but my head was spinning. Angel’s words about Henrique’s confused feelings kept echoing in my mind, adding yet another layer of complication to an already tangled story.