Miss Independent, Volumes 1 - 4

by Kiki Leach

  Alexis adjusted her mic and smiled. She showed a group of cards in her hands and placed a pair of yellow framed glasses on her face.

  Melanie leaned in. “She has a pair of glasses to match her outfit?”

  “She has a pair of something to match everything she’s ever worn.”

  “Thank you. And welcome to tonight’s very special launch party for the latest issue of Attitude magazine. Which as many of you may know, is soon to be celebrating its tenth year in publication!” Alexis began, as everyone applauded “Ten years is one hell of a feat in this business, and I still haven’t managed to look a day over thirty-five while doing so.” Everyone laughed as Vanessa slightly rolled her eyes. “Now as we begin to truly celebrate this season and what this magazine has always represented, for women and more importantly by women, we plan to accomplish so much more globally with our words and fashions, and it’s all starting with this insanely divine cover of a woman, along with the journalistic expertise of my daughter, who deserved it above no other for her accomplishments in such a short amount of time. Vanessa recommended her to me during one of our early morning pitch meetings, and in the beginning, I fully admit to balking at her being on the cover. I had no idea who Melanie Bruchesque-Malone was until I looked her up and saw all of her credentials, from where she grew up, to where she attended school and how she motivated herself to become one of the most prolific women in Hollywood by owning and operating her own film studio, which has produced hundreds of small films and television shows, all of which have managed to win awards in every form within the industry, save for a Tony and Grammy, both of which are bound to come along at some point, you mark my words.” A few more people clapped. “It was such a strong motivation, one I hadn’t seen in years. So much so that I told my daughter to sign her up for our next featured interview and cover ASAP.”

  Vanessa tugged at her ear and eyed the room in a hasty manner, as she didn’t remember any of it happening like that. But she played along for the sake of continuing to make peace with her mother for the remainder of the evening.

  “I want everyone to take part in enjoying this issue,” Alexis continued. “And to understand that we as women CAN have it all. And by God, if we don’t get it, there are going to be some unhappy angry men in this room tonight, none of which will include my husband.” The men laughed while the women clapped and hollered. “Now, before I run out of breath, I want to say that it is my distinct pleasure to welcome the woman of the night up to the stage to speak about herself a little. Where are you, Melanie?”

  Melanie’s heart sank and her mouth dropped open. “I didn’t know I had to speak, your mother didn’t say anything about me speaking tonight. I didn’t prepare anything,” she said. “I don’t know what to say and I hate talking in front of people.”

  “You run a multimillion dollar corporation and you don’t like to speak in public?” asked Vanessa. “How the hell do you get through international meetings and business deals?”

  “Xanax,” she hissed.

  “Well, what do you do when your company wins awards? Just get up there and make it up as you go along.”

  “It’s not that easy, Vanessa. With award shows you get five minutes at the most and they start playing the music to usher you off. This is going to last more than five minutes.”

  “I see you trying to hide from me,” said Alexis, pointing and waving. “My daughter can tell you first hand that that never works. Come up here!”

  She smiled and nodded as the room parted to make way for her, and applauded. She cautiously went upstage to Alexis, who gave her a tight hug before handing the mic over and joining her daughter in the crowd.

  “Thank you,” she started. “I wish I was more prepared for tonight, but I guess that comes with having it all, you’re not allowed to lose anything.” She pointed at her head as the audience collectively nodded in agreement.

  Alexis stood aside Vanessa and removed her glasses, placing them back inside her purse next to the cards. “How did I look up there?”

  “You looked fine, Mother. How were you expecting to look?”

  “Like a damn fox!” She pulled her dress down at the front and back. “Donatella made this dress especially for me and I haven’t worn it since you were fifteen years old. The stress over the years might have caused me to lose a few pounds, but nonetheless, I know I look good.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “Because I wanted to make sure YOU knew it too.”

  “Hm.” Vanessa ignored her mother and pretended to listen to Melanie speak, though she had no idea what was really being said.

  “How did your meeting with Sheila go this afternoon? The police were never called to the building, so I assume she’s still alive.”

  “She is for now. We’re going to try being civil to each other in the hope that it causes less problems for everyone. But to be honest, I don’t know how long it’s going to last.”

  “God willing until those two plan to leave town again.”

  “I told you they’re not going anyplace, Mother. Nathan’s got himself a job here and Sheila won’t leave until we’re practically sleeping in the same bed again like we did when we were nine.”

  She shook her head and soured. “That girl has had one hell of an unhealthy attachment to you since the moment you became friends.”

  “I used to think she was strange always wanting to be so close to me even when she knew I couldn’t stand the sight of her, but now I realize that she’s just lonely and always has kind of been. She has Nathan, but it’s clearly not enough because there’s a void there, a giant hole that has yet to be filled, and it kind of makes sense as to why. Her dad was always gone when we were kids, promoting himself and whatever campaign he was supporting at the time. And Veronica wasn’t always the most sober hostess with the mostess when I went over their house on the weekends. Their bathroom looked like it belonged inside a drugstore pharmacy.”

  Alexis appeared perplexed and tilted her head. “I knew she drank a little, but I didn’t know Veronica took pills as well.”

  “How could you not? She popped them like candy every time we were around her.”

  “I thought they were tic tacs.”

  “Oh, Mother, please. You’ve been around enough models over the years to know the difference between a pill and a tic tac. Now, maybe when we were around other people you couldn’t tell because she could be so slick about it, but when it was just the four of us, it was plainly obvious. Not that I’m one to talk.”

  “If this is about your drinking, Vanessa, you’re not an alcoholic. You’re just completely irresponsible about it.”

  “Maurice thinks I drink too much. He hasn’t actually come out and said it, but I know that he thinks it from the way he looks at me after I’ve had maybe two or three glasses of champagne or wine, or rum, or vodka, or tequila. I don’t know, maybe I do.”

  “Is that where all of my good tequila went? Down your damn throat?!”

  “Are you kidding me right now? Mother, I know that you weren’t the most attentive parent in the world, especially with Felicia still living in the house, but how many times did you find me on the bathroom floor when I came home from a party? And how many times did Alexander have to put me in the shower because he couldn’t get me to wake up? It wasn’t just because I was having a few wine coolers every now and then before bedtime. I always seemed to have a drink in my hand, even before I knew what I was doing. But I didn’t start drinking so heavily until…” She fell silent.

  “Until you found Nathan and Sheila together,” said Alexis.

  She lowered her head and rocked back and forth on her heels in silent agreement. “Daddy was an alcoholic, so maybe it’s in my gene.”

  “Your father was also a gambler. And a liar. And a thief, which is how we ended up penniless when he left us. You’ve barely even touched your life savings.”

  “But I could have the other gene, even if I’m not going out and spending money like I’ll never see another d
ime of it in my life.”

  “No one is saying that you don’t, Vanessa.” She dropped back and scrunched her face. “How did we get on this topic in the first place?”

  “I guess talking about Sheila just seems to bring out the absolute best in the both of us.”

  “And that is how I made it to the top of where I am today,” stated Melanie as she spoke into the microphone. Vanessa and Alexis looked at each other, making apologetic faces as they hadn’t listened to a single word that was said. “So wherever you are in life,” she continued, “know that with drive and ambition, you can always receive a greater achievement. Thank you.” The entire room applauded her and she bowed before making her way back over to Alexis and Vanessa. She was full of enthusiasm, beaming as bright as a sun, her skin flushed from the exuberant feeling of having succeeded. “How did I do up there?”

  “You were fabulous, honey!” said Alexis. She pat her on the arm and smiled. “Excuse me.” She moved away from them and around the room to search for Alexander.

  “Your mother was just being polite, wasn’t she?”

  “She meant what she said. She likes you and I think you might have another shot of being on another cover sometime in the future.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. That’s if you choose to go back to Los Angeles. If you stay here, you probably don’t have a shot in hell.”

  “That’s really encouraging, Vanessa, than you for that.”

  “I’m just trying to be honest, which seems to be getting me into a lot more trouble tonight than I’d like. Listen, I’m going to fix Maurice some food and head out early. If you see my mother again, do you mind telling her for me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks. Enjoy the rest of the night.”

  Part Twenty-Four

  On the way home, Vanessa saw that she had a few missed phone calls on her cell from a withheld name and unknown number. She erased them before stepping through her front door and tried blocking them from calling her again. Since they didn’t leave a voicemail, she suspected the person to be a reporter or telemarketer, neither of which were ever extremely welcome, but especially not that night.

  “Honey, I’m home,” she mocked as she closed the door behind her.

  Maurice came out of the kitchen and smiled at her. “Honey?”

  She lifted the plate in her hands and walked toward him. “Hope you haven’t had anything to eat because I brought you some food, as promised. I asked one of the cooks in the back to make you a sample of chicken, meatloaf, ravioli and something else that I still haven’t figured out yet. But I’m pretty sure it’s a lot more edible than what was actually being served tonight.”

  He took the plate from her and lay his hand across the top of the plastic covering the food. “It’s also cold.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but that’s what microwaves are for. Should I put on an apron and stick it in there for you?”

  “You don’t own any aprons.”

  “Guess you’ll be heating it up yourself then, huh?”

  He arched a brow, amused by her continued defiance, and went back into the kitchen as she followed. “How was the party?”

  “It was your typical A-list shindig with all the trimmings and gossip galore. At least fifteen different people came over to me before I even got into the door asking me about Sheila and Nathan. One person, who shall remain nameless, even suggested we were doing some kind of ‘Sisterwives’ thing and shit just got out of hand with us attacking each other over jealousy.” Maurice laughed as he placed his plate in the microwave and set the timer. She dropped her purse on the table and glowered. “It’s not funny.”

  “It kind of is.” He leaned back on the counter and folded his arms. “So what did you say to them?”

  “I said that Sheila and I were not ‘Sisterwives’, nor would we ever want to be. But that we were fine and that there was no reason to continue dwelling or asking either one of us about it. I took a page from her book tonight and felt all kinds of dirty in ripping them out and saving them in my memory for moments like that.” She dropped her head back and ran her fingers through her hair. “God, I just want to forget that night ever happened. I guess I should be grateful that Melanie managed to get all of her publicity taken care of before this latest issue came out. I’ve tried to be positive about it, thinking my incident might make it fly off the shelves. Alexis sure as hell won’t like the reasoning behind that, but if it sells, it sells. And if it gets people to buy back issues and order more, then who are we to stand in the way of that, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And speaking of Melanie, she kept talking about you tonight and I thought it was really weird.”

  “What was weird about it?” The microwave beeped and he took out the food, grabbing a fork from the drawer and moving around the counter to take a seat on the stool that sat before it.

  “The way she talked about you. And you didn’t tell me that she saw you during your run yesterday.”

  “What was there to tell?”

  “A lot, apparently. There was a twinkle in her eye every time she said your name. She tried to tell me that a ‘friend’ asked about your dating status, but in truth, I think she might be interested in you herself.”

  He almost choked on the food he had just put into his mouth. Vanessa grabbed him a beer from the fridge and popped the cap, handing it to him. He almost swallowed back the entire bottle and sat it on the counter once the food was washed down, making a face of both awareness and irritation.

  “Stop it, V.”

  “Stop what? I’m serious. She kept saying shit like you make the ‘best’ coffee. As far as I’m concerned, she shouldn’t even know what the hell your coffee even tastes like.”

  “Is that a euphemism for something else?”

  “No.”

  He raised a hand then dropped it back to the counter. “Maybe Nikki gave her a cup that I made for you this morning.”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said.” She realized her wording and knit her brows, but continued on. “You know what, maybe next time Nikki shouldn’t give her anything that you make for me in the morning, in a pot or otherwise.”

  He sat back and grinned wide, showing his teeth. “Are you jealous?”

  She scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me, Mo?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” He tossed his fork on his plate and got up from his chair, moving over toward her. “I think you’re jealous.”

  “Contrary to what you might believe, I’m not jealous of that woman because there’s no way in hell that you would ever sleep with her.”

  He stood straight and slipped his hands inside his pockets. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because you have ME now, okay? You’ve got your lifelong heart’s desire standing right in front of you all ready, willing, and able to do it whatever you want, whenever you want, and more importantly HOWever you want, no questions asked. All you have to do is say the word.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. See, it wasn’t until all of this that I finally figured out what your problem has been for all of these years.”

  He crossed his arms. “What’s that?”

  “You didn’t have me. Not in the way that you always wanted to. You didn’t have me to hold at night or wake up to in the morning, you never had more than a few options with me. And so as a result, you slept around with anything with an open vagina. See I get it now, I truly get it. Part of your machismo was not because you were just so eager to get laid all the time, you were just eager to get laid by me and since you couldn’t, you had to fill up that hole with something and decided to do that with a bunch of random vaginas.”

  “In that case, wouldn’t that be me filling their holes up with something?”

  “God, you can be so CRASS, it’s disgusting. I almost wish I had come home to you walking around my living room naked again instead of hearing something like that.”

  “Our living room,” he corrected. “And
you wouldn’t have wanted to come home to me naked for that reason, Vanessa. Or did you forget how much it turns you on?” He slipped an arm around her waist, jerking her closer to his body. She lost her breath for a moment as her body tensed against his and she lay her hands across his chest, looking up into his eyes, which darkened with lust and a certain need for her as he saw the clear yearning for him on her face.

  “I didn’t forget.” She lifted to her toes and slipped her arms around his neck. Her fingers trailed his nape and up into his hair. He closed his eyes, relishing in how good she felt against him, how much he wanted to taste every part of her body as she ran her fingers throughout his hair. He exhaled between his lips and she tasted the scent of beer on his tongue. Normally, something like that would repulse her, but seeing him in this light, and being so close to feel his erection rising, it was one of the most delicious scents she had ever tasted. She tilted her head to match the angle of his mouth. His eyes were still closed, he looked almost in pain, though she knew he was far from it, at least in the way that he didn’t like. “Is this moving too fast,” she whispered, moving her head so that he could taste her on his tongue.

  He closed his mouth and swallowed hard. “No.”

  “Then kiss me,” she said. “Kiss me, because I’m yours.”

  He bent down and crushed his lips against hers, never opening his eyes, only taking her as she had demanded him to. He curled his fingers against the small of her back, and with his other hand lifted her right leg from the ground and wrapped it around his waist. He fell back against the fridge and she laughed while trying to keep their lips together.

  “I had practiced this so much better in my head,” he told her. She leaned back and helped him unbutton his shirt.

  “I did too.”

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her until his lips felt absolutely numb. She almost collapsed from lack of oxygen to her brain, but held onto him as he kept them close together. Her hands dropped from his waist and down to his ass. She squeezed tight, remembering how it often looked in the shower, how it looked as she saw him bent over when she came home from that strenuous day at work just weeks ago. It was ripe, delicious and tender, but firm like a bright and shiny apple.