TWISTED FATES BOOK 1: The First Twist
Chapter 8

Sammie

Earlier in the evening, I received a text reminding me that I had dinner plans with my BFF, Dasha. I had gotten home a couple of hours earlier and fallen asleep on the grey micro-suede chaise lounge in my living room. Having only one client to tend to, Fridays were my early days. I rubbed my hands over my face and glanced over at the silver star-shaped clock hanging on the wall to my left.

Shit - I completely forgot.

I had less than two hours to get ready and meet her. Since traffic in the city could be unpredictable, I knew I needed to get a move on. Even though we spoke practically every day, with her decision to move to a town like two hours away and our conflicting schedules, I hadn’t in reality seen Dasha in a while. It had been at least six months, to be exact, so I genuinely missed my BFF.

Tonight, I was utterly looking forward to some good old-fashioned BFF bonding time.

I took a quick shower, dried my hair, and decided on what to wear. I chose my little black halter dress, which had a low scoop front that showed off just the right amount of cleavage, and my Black Fairy Louboutin’s. I threw my hair up in a messy bun, put on a little light make-up, grabbed my evening bag, and after a quick once over in the mirror, I decided I was ready to head out for the evening.

Driving through downtown Minneapolis traffic was relatively more comfortable to deal with this evening. Despite a few detours due to road construction here and there, I arrived at my destination in record time. Fortunately, I was pretty comfortable navigating around the one-way streets and managed to pull my car into the parking garage located next to the restaurant with ease. I was a few minutes early, so I decided to text Dasha that I had already arrived and would meet her inside the restaurant. I checked my lip-gloss in my rear-view mirror and made my way over to where we were meeting - Hell’s Kitchen.

When I stepped inside the restaurant, my senses were seized by all of the fantastic aromas of food drifting around inside the room. I had been here a few times for their featured brunch items on Redemption Sundays. They had the BEST lemon ricotta pancakes. I was relatively new to their dinner crowd, so I was looking forward to trying something new. Needless to say, the mouth-watering scents surrounding me caused my stomach to emit a little grumble, making me realize how hungry I actually was; because I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning.

I checked in with the petite hostess and was promptly seated at my table. I let her know that the rest of my party was still on their way, to which she smiled and assured me that she would bring them over to the table once they arrived.

Not too long after I was seated, I was greeted by a charming twenty-something server named Shawn, who was sporting the most adorable damn dimples. I let Shawn know that I was still waiting for the rest of my party and ordered my usual drink, the Foxy Devil, a ginger vodka, basil lemonade cocktail that was to DIE for. With a killer smile and wink, Shawn took my drink order and walked over to the bar. This allowed me the perfect opportunity to ogle at the great view of his muscular backside through his tight-fitting black tee and dark-washed jeans, which showed off his sexy ass.

Yeah, this guy must definitely get good tips.

Just as I was about to peruse the menu, I noticed the hostess heading in my direction with someone following close behind her. It was Dasha. But not as I had remembered her. She had dramatically changed her appearance. Don’t get me wrong; my BFF Dasha was already gor-gina. She had olive skin, which gave her an exotic appearance, black hair, and hooded dark green eyes with criminally long lashes. However, now Dasha looked even more amazing. I could tell that she had indeed been working out because her svelte body was much more toned than it used to be. She was now wearing contacts instead of her wire-rimmed glasses, so her eyes appeared more vibrant than before. But it was her hair that shocked me the most.

She had dyed it bright Cherry Red. The same color that I had before Jay’s death, to be exact.

When she got to the table, she immediately sat down, smiled, and greeted me. “What’s up bitch?” she jokingly declared.

I just stared at her blankly, blinking my eyes as if I were sending some sort of Morse Code message.

Evidently, nobody seemed to be deciphering my distress call.

I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that Dasha was now the spitting image of, well ... me.

Needless to say, I was at a momentary loss for words.

*********************************************************

I quickly regained my senses and returned Dasha’s playful greeting as I stood up and reached over to give her a warm hug.

“What up Whore!”

Hmm, was that my signature perfume she was wearing too?

Suspish.

I had missed Dasha so much, and clearly, during our time apart, she decided to make some alterations to her appearance without even telling me. Not gonna lie; this made me feel kind of upset that she didn’t think to share any of this with me. To say that I was flabbergasted, not to mention a little weirded out, by her recent transformation was an understatement.

Despite being thrown for a proverbial loop, I was still grateful to have my BFF sitting here in front of me. It had been so long since I had an actual friend to spend time with. I was beginning to feel quite lonely.

Granted, the girls I hung out with in her absence were technically my friends, but Dasha was my BFF. She had been with me through so much, especially after the loss of Jay. She and I were there to help get each other through the unbearable pain due to our loss.

Observing my BFF’s new appearance, I decided to just straight-up question her about the sudden dramatic change.

“So, girl spill. What the heck is up with you changing your look, boo-boo?” I asked, arching my eyebrow.

“Don’t get me wrong bitch; you look – Gor-gina. But I’m just surprised that you didn’t tell me anything about it. Especially since we like talk almost every day. Is this why you wouldn’t Skype with me?”

“I just decided that it was time for a change.” She responded almost dismissively as she tossed her crimson locks over her shoulder. “I guess I was just bored with the same old, same old, and wanted to do something fun. Ya know? I decided I was tired of how I looked and needed an upgrade.”

Something seemed somewhat evasive with her answer. I knew Dasha, and she wasn’t the type to just do something this extreme without reason.

“I totally don’t buy that.” I retorted after taking a sip of water. “Spill the Tea, Dasha. I know you’re hiding something.”

Dasha frowned at me for a brief moment before looking away. She seemed almost irritated that I was prodding her for more information, but she quickly glossed over her annoyance and groaned.

“I just wanted a change, Sam, nothing more,” she continued, “I don’t understand why you have to make such a BIG deal about this. Can’t you just be happy for me? For once, I feel genuinely fucking good about myself. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?”

Well, shit – defensive much?

“Dasha,” I said, trying to sound as calm as possible as I reached over to cautiously take her hand in mine, “I’m not trying to make a big deal of this. You’re fucking Amazing - whatever you look like. I just feel like there’s more going on than what you’re telling me. That’s all. I mean, no one changes their appearance this dramatically just for the hell of it. Usually, there’s something or someone that sparks the fuse.”

Dasha sighed as she closed her eyes while pinching the top of her nose between her furrowed brows.

“Fine, Sam. There is something else. OK? I’m seeing someone, and I don’t feel like discussing this any further. Why is it every time I make a decision that doesn’t involve you, you always have to turn it around to make it about you? Not everything is about you, Sammie – you did the same fucking thing with Jay too, but he was just too polite to say anything. This is my business, so quit with the fucking Spanish Inquisition already!”

What – What?

I was about to respond to her outburst when our conversation was cut short. Shawn, our server, was uncomfortably clearing his throat and placing my beverage on the table in front of me.

Indeed, this was a discussion that Dasha and I would be continuing later. Who was this mystery man she was seeing, and why was she getting so damn defensive about me questioning her? I don’t know how, but I just knew there was more to her story than just wanting a change. And not just any change, mind you, but one that bore an uncanny resemblance to my exact appearance three years ago.

Super suspish.

“Hi, Ladies.” Shawn smiled without skipping a beat, revealing his pearly whites and charming dimples, as he regarded the tense situation between Dasha and myself. “Have you lovely ladies had time to look over the menu? Did you have any questions?”

Just as I was getting ready to let him know that we would need a few more minutes, since I didn’t think Dasha had a chance to look at the menu, I was interrupted by her as she informed him that she wanted to order. She had decided on the Original Crack Power Salad and a glass of prosecco.

Well then, clearly, I was the only one not ready here.

I looked up at Shawn apologetically; he smiled and nodded, allowing me a quick moment to decide on what I was ordering.

“I think I’ll just have the Ham and Pear Crisp Sandwich with a half salad with Peanut Vinaigrette as my side with an iced tea no lemon. Thanks.” I meekly smiled.

Shawn nodded at me, acknowledging my order, removed the menus from our table, and walked away, presumably to place our order.

After a brief few minutes of rather generic idle chit chat, our food and drinks arrived.

Thank God.

Dasha and I sat and ate in uncomfortable silence. Once we were done eating, I had already planned on continuing our discussion, but I needed to take a quick restroom break before that.

Ah, bladders, am I right?

“Running to the ladies’ room.” I cleared my throat and announced. “Be right back ... and when I do, we seriously need to continue with our conversation from earlier, Dasha.” I didn’t give her time to answer as I pushed my seat back and got up from our table.

However, I did catch the eye roll and sneer that had adorned her lips and was reasonably sure I heard her mutter a snide response.

“As IF. We’ll see about that.”

Real nice, Dasha … not.

I just shrugged my shoulders and continued to make my way to the restroom. I was not going to let my frustration with Dasha’s behavior get the best of me. Better to just go to the bathroom and calm down. Hopefully, when I return, we’d both be in a better mood to discuss my concerns like two rational adults.

Chalk one up for me being seriously mistaken, folks.

When I returned to our table, I noticed that our server Shawn was there clearing off our dinnerware’s last remnants, and Dasha was nowhere in sight.

Confused, I looked at Shawn, who displayed some serious signs of discomfort as his gaze drifted downwards, refusing to look me in the eye. He handed me a white, folded piece of paper. “Sorry.” He quietly spoke. “Your friend seemed a bit upset, so she tossed two fifties on the table and told me to keep the change as long as I gave you this.” I cautiously took the slip of paper from Shawn, apologized for the uncomfortable drama, and thanked him as I grabbed my purse and headed towards the exit. I just needed to get the hell out of the awkward situation that this poor guy had been witness to.

It wasn’t until I was back seated in the driver’s seat of my car when it dawned on me that I was still clutching the note left from Dasha.

I just stared at it; dread filled my every pore.

I could tell this wasn’t going to be good.

And I was right.

When I opened the note and saw what she had transcribed in her delicate handwriting, it was as if I had been kicked in the gut by an elephant.

STAY THE HELL OUT OF MY LIFE SAM, AND DON’T TRY TO CONTACT ME AGAIN! – D

My jaw dropped as I let the note slip out of my trembling hands onto my lap. Seriously people ... What the FUCK just happened?!

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