In These Streets

Chapter 23

I spent the morning cleaning the apartment while my mom was at work and Tadeus went to the beach with the neighbors.

By the afternoon, I was restless and bored, so I showered and went for a run, drenched in sweat by the end from the suffocating heat.

My mother got home that evening, retreating to the neighbor's to socialize and spend time with them. I was virtually left alone, not that I minded.

I messaged Ophelia to let her know I would pick her up at LAX the next day, then tried to go to sleep, but my excitement made it impossible.

Though I'd barely slept the night before, I woke up full of energy and anticipation. I jumped in the shower and quickly got ready, settling on a baby pink sundress, cute beige fedora, silver jewelry and brown gladiator sandals. Very Californian.

"Mama, I'm going to take the car to pick up Ophelia from the airport," I said as I grabbed my purse and the keys off the table.

It was nearing noon, when her flight was supposed to land.

"That's fine," my mother replied from her spot on the couch.

It was another record-breaking day and I cranked the AC as I pulled into the street, cruising.

The traffic made the short drive tedious and parking was hard to find, but I finally made my way into LAX, using the maps and signs to find the gate of arrivals I knew Ophelia would be coming through.

I waited for twenty minutes, shifting from one foot to the other in impatience.

Finally, a sea of passengers herded in through the gate, a dozen or so passing before I spotted my best friend.

People thought it was funny when they learned Ophelia and I were best friends since we seemed like such polar opposites. Where I had raven black curls, Ophelia had sleek, straight white-blonde hair. My eyes were a dark green and hers were a lapis lazuli blue. My body was curvy and tanned while hers was slender and paler, a coveted ballerina frame.

Even though we looked starkly different we were close, and nobody understood me better than Ophelia.

"Over here, O," I called, waving my arm as I made a beeline for her.

She spotted me, a huge smile breaking across her face. "Ambra, oh my God!"

We crashed into each other, in the tightest hug I've ever had.

"You look so good! It feels like I haven't seen you in forever! Ugh, I missed you so much," she said.

"I missed you too. I'm so glad you could come. We have so much to catch up on."

We walked to the luggage carousel, her carry-on rolling behind us.

"I hope the weather stays like this the whole time I'm here. It looked gorgeous as I was flying in," she said.

She looked prepared for good weather, in a cute Zara crop top, deconstructed mini skirt and heels.

Before I could respond she pointed, her luggage traveling our way on the conveyor belt. We grabbed her huge Louis Vuitton suitcase, heaving it off the belt.

"Excuse me, Miss Hadad?" I turned to find a smartly dressed valet standing there expectantly, in his early fifties.

"Yes, that's me... " I answered slowly.

The valet grinned broadly. "I've been told to escort you and your friend back to your home so you can pack, on orders of Mr. Payne."

Utterly confused, I just stared at him.