by Kiki Leach
“It’ll be three weeks on Friday.”
“Then maybe his letting you out of the cage today was just an early wedding gift you can’t return. From what I’ve heard from Eddie, don’t expect to have more time outside of the office during work hours unless you’re forced to run errands or bathe the Gallagher family dog.”
“I’ll remember that the next time I’m forced back into that awful place called The Bean for his coffee.” He made his way to her desk and placed his hands on the chair sitting in front of him. His eyes roamed over to a picture sitting at the edge of her desk, the one of Vanessa, Maurice, and Nikki in a full on embrace – the same picture in which he and Sheila had been so blatantly removed from. He hadn’t noticed it when he was there before, but then again his mind was so focused on other things at the time, noticing a picture in which he was mysteriously missing from was the last thing on it. He stared at it this time, then looked at her, making a face of both wonder and amazement. “I still can’t believe you’re not angry about any of this,” he said.
“Well, believe it. This might be hard for you to comprehend, but I have a hell of a lot more things going on right now that don’t include you or that…” She stopped to think of a more appropriate word. “Woman. And the less problems I have to deal with right now, the better. That being said, what do you want? A few minutes is all I’ve got left if you want to continue this conversation. So…” She snapped her fingers again. “Choppity chop.”
He reached for the single button on his jacket to loosen it. “I wanted to talk to you about the next issue of your magazine.”
“Why? Are you angling to be a cover model for our Labor Day wear? Because that position is already taken.”
“By who? Your boy, Maurice?”
“Don’t start with that shit or I’m gonna kick your ass outta here before you can even think to say another word.”
He raised his hands. “Alright, I’m sorry.” He stepped back and glanced at a set of old magazines that sat on top of her small bookshelf on the other side. He went to grab a copy, then brought it back over for her to see. When she didn’t look up, he began flipping through pages and sat the magazine down on the desk in front of her. She stopped typing for only a second just to move it out of her way. “You know I’ve never read a single copy of Attitude unless I was forced into doing it by you or Sheila for certain quizzes--” She rolled her eyes. “But I heard through Eddie’s wife, Keisha, that you started having guest columns every week a couple of years ago.”
“And when did you ‘hear’ this?”
“Sheila and I went out to dinner with them at Angelino’s a couple of nights ago. Keisha said something about how you have regular people coming into the office to brainstorm and write various columns about whatever they want to discuss? And that you offered her a temporary position as a monthly contributor to talk about her pregnancy.”
“I didn’t initially offer her anything; that was my mother’s doing when she went to see Eddie’s dad about some paperwork. Something about how she wants to keep young mothers reading the magazine despite not feeling so stylish at times. Keisha was on the fence about it because she hadn’t written much in the last few years, so Alexis asked if I would go back to try and convince her, and she jumped – so to speak – at the chance when I said that her advice could provide much needed positivity for pregnant women our age. Anyway, we have three people now including her, and two pseudo celebrities when the issue calls for it. But they can’t write about whatever they want. If someone suddenly believes the devil is coming back in place of God we sure as hell can’t print it. My mother would have a shit fit and try to douse them in holy water. Other than that, the topic is pretty broad but set for each person every month. Keisha being the exception given her situation, and depending on whether or not she even wants to continue on after having the baby.” She stopped and thought for a moment after rambling, and narrowed her eyes as Nathan stared down at her. “I’m curious as to why any of this even matters to you?”
“Sheila and I were talking after dinner--”
She stiffened. “Which is never a good thing for me.”
“And after she read Keisha’s first article, she became inspired to do something within the same vein of it.”
“Is that so?” she replied in mocking tone.
“Yeah. She started thinking about what it would be like to discuss her own life, and what it was like before us… and what it’s like now.”
“Um.” Vanessa shut her eyes and quickly shook her head. “Your entire life story is splashed all over every gossip page that exists online and off. Need I remind you of the reunion as an example?”
“She wants to do something in her own words, V, have her own say.”
“Then tell her to start a blog like everybody else in the world. It’s cheap, sometimes free, but always easy to do and available 24/7 – just like her.”
He bit his tongue to keep from responding to her harsh words. “Millions of people may not read her blog, Vanessa, or even know how to find it online – especially the people who matter the most to her.”
“As in the people with money and lots of it.”
He attempted a nod while hoping he hadn’t been too obvious about it. “But they do all read your magazine and know where to find it.”
She turned her head to the side and tugged at her ear. “I’m sorry, come again?”
“Sheila suggested writing something for the magazine leading up to the wedding,” he said. “But since the wedding is in September and that would only mean one or two columns, she thought maybe she could discuss our lives as newlyweds along with it.”
“Along with it, as if she expected me to be fine with this whole thing and approve it?” Dumbfounded, Vanessa threw her head back and laughed aloud. “You have got to be kidding me, Nathan – she can’t be serious!”
“I wouldn’t be standing inside your office right now if we weren’t.”
“Oh, so this was your idea along with hers?”
“I encouraged her to do it.”
“Right, well, that was your first mistake. Let me just say that aside from your request being abundantly absurd, this is the same Sheila who paid people in high school to do her English papers for her. I’m surprised she can even write something other than her own first name, and even that took a little while for her to get used to spelling correctly. I before E, except after S?”
“The nasty remarks aren’t necessary, V.”
“Neither is your being here and pimping for her to write for a magazine – during our most important issue, by the way – inside of a building I have barely allowed either one of you to even come near again. You both have completely lost whatever is left of your gotdamn minds if you think I’m going to allow her to go through with this. There are hundreds of magazines for her to choose from, hundreds. Hell, I’m sure Wedded Bliss is just aching to do your first cover story. Let me call them up right now. As a matter of fact, the editor owes me a favor.” She reached for her phone and began dialing.
“She doesn’t want Wedded Bliss, V, she wants you. Your magazine is the best in the business and Sheila wants the best to work with her.”
She dropped the phone back down on the hook and pointed at him. “Bullshit.” She fell back in her chair. “She wants to piss me off – that’s why she sent you here instead of coming to face me herself. Instead of encouraging her silliness, why couldn’t you man up and tell her that this wasn’t going to happen when I’m sure you knew damn well the moment the words came out of her mouth that it wouldn’t? I’m not allowing that woman to taint the pages of this magazine with her feigned happiness just for the sake of being a bitch or so that you can get your jollies off by thinking that I should still give a damn. Now get the hell out.”
“I’m not leaving here until you promise me that you’ll allow her to do it.”
“Do you plan on taking me for some kind of ransom if I don’t?”
“Would it work if I did?” he snapped. “She
ila said you’ve had brides in there before.”
“We have. But we are not currently looking to hire someone who wants to write about a wedding and relationship that 99.9% of the people who work here could care less about. Our readers are looking for something fresh and clean. They want sleek, stylish and sexy when it comes to weddings. You and Sheila don’t work in that respect, for me or anyone else inside of this building.” She returned to typing but felt the pressure of his gaze.
“You can try to deny it all you want, V, but you’re still pissed as hell at what we did,” he said, somewhat amused. “If you were past it like you claim to be, you’d let her write for the magazine.”
“If YOU were past it like YOU claim to be, you wouldn’t even be here. And I’m not pissed. I’m highly annoyed by the situation that you’ve currently put me in, which is different. I mean, hell, let’s just say for five seconds that I even considered this nonsense. Aside from me, there is my mother who would have to approve her working here and she cares even less about the both of you than I do.”
“This is good publicity for the magazine despite how you feel or what you think. And Veronica is close friends with Alexis.”
“Veronica hasn’t spoken to my mother for more than two seconds in the last five years, save for informing her of the invitation to Clown Town. And this is absolutely terrible publicity for everyone involved here and you know it. Now I am done with this conversation.”
“V--”
“No. Now, you can either leave or I can have you escorted out by security. It’s your choice, Nate.”
He tightened his jaw. “Nate.” He paused. “Other people call me that all the time, but you haven’t said it since the last time we were together.” He lowered his eyes down to his hands and noticed for the first time that his palms were sweating. “I guess there’s nothing left to say, then.” She didn’t respond. He nodded and slyly wiped his hands down the sides of his pants while traipsing over to her door. He yanked back on the knob using the edge of his jacket and lingered in the doorway before heading out to the elevator.
Vanessa ripped her glasses off, tossing them on her desk and rubbing the corners of her eyes with the edges of her fingers.
Samantha got up from her desk and headed inside the office, carrying a note in her hand. “I didn’t want to interrupt, but that sounded pretty intense from out here,” she said.
“Which is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I’ve only known about three people in my entire life who can get me so angry in just a few seconds time and he’s one of them. All that man has to do is show up and say one word and it just completely sets me off. The audacity of him to come here requesting Sheila write about her wedding. Please. They’re both crazy as hell and I don’t know what I ever saw in either one of them.” Vanessa noticed the paper in Samantha’s hand and nodded. “What’s that?”
“You got a phone call.”
Vanessa took the paper from her hands and stared down at the number. “876-555-3315.” She sighed. “He called here again?”
She nodded. “Are you ever going to talk to this person? He’s been calling nonstop for the last two weeks, always leaving the same message to call him back.”
“I’ve been trying to avoid it because he’s not worthy of my time. Did you finally get to ask him how he got this number in the first damn place?”
“He hung up again before I could ask him anything, just like he always does.”
“Of course he did.” She crumbled the paper between her fingers and tossed it into the trash beneath her desk.
“What do you want me to do the next time he calls?”
“What can we do? I could tell you to block his number, but that’s not going to keep him from contacting me at home with yet another letter, which is how he operates. That’s the last thing I need to see, and certainly the last thing Maurice needs to deal with, especially since he still doesn’t know anything about the first one. We just got over the hump of Nathan and Sheila and now this shit. And I still have another meeting and a deadline which has gone from three hours, to two.” She placed her hands on top of her desk and waited a moment. “You go on, I’ll deal with this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Samantha smiled and returned to her desk.
Vanessa quickly pulled out her trashcan and roamed her eyes around the inside of it. Once she spotted the crumbled paper in the corner, she pulled it out with her index and thumb and unwrapped it little by little. She stared at that number again, just as she had when she received his first note in the mail.
When it came to the worst in her life, Adrian Samuels was at the top of her list, beating out Nathan and Sheila only by a few hairs. This was someone she once hoped to have everything with, even though she was uncertain throughout their entire relationship. Her fears that he wouldn’t stick around were confirmed when out of the blue, he informed her that he was leaving town and had no plans to ever come back.
She placed the crumbled paper on top of her desk then reached inside one of her drawers, pulling out his original letter and sat them side by side. She swallowed back the bile building up in her throat as she thought back on every touch, kiss, and embrace shared between them.
If that first letter had been the single time he tried contacting her, she never would’ve thought about him again. She would’ve tossed it back into the trashcan where she felt it belonged and continued on with her life just hating only two people. But between the letters and phone calls, it was becoming more and more difficult to avoid. She knew that if she didn’t nip this in the bud as soon as humanly possible, he was going to become more of a problem than he was worth. And with things going so well with Maurice, she was in no mood to have someone else come along and screw up a damn good thing for the sake of their own personal agenda. Especially someone like him.
She grabbed her phone and punched *67 before quickly dialing the number she was given on the paper. After ringing a few times, it went straight to voicemail. His voice was still as deep as she remembered, still intoxicatingly sexy and intelligent, even as he had only said his first name. But she couldn’t bear to listen to it anymore, remembering how that name sounded in her ears when they had sex in various positions, directions and areas around New York City. Before he was finished, she immediately hung up and tossed the papers back into the trash, pouring a carton of clumpy milk she had found in the back of her mini fridge on top of them to make sure she wouldn’t be tempted to pull them out and analyze, or agonize, over them again. Her stomach dropped and she became nauseous again. She placed her elbow on the arm of her chair and rested her head in her hand. Taking care of this mess with Adrian was going to be no easy task; seemed it was all better said than could ever possibly be done.
Part Three
Nathan stormed out of Vanessa’s building in a huff and violently ripped his cell phone from the inside of his jacket pocket. Not only was he pissed that she no longer gave a damn about his wedding, but he realized within just seconds of talking to her that whatever charms he used that often worked on her before, seemed to do nothing but completely repel her now. He didn’t understand it. Even if she was dating Maurice and he was committed to marrying someone else, it didn’t mean that he was suddenly eradicated from her heart, just as she hadn’t been from his. At least it wasn’t something he was willing to believe so soon. He looked at his phone and scrolled through various names in his address book, stopping when he reached his fiancée’s name. He stared at it for a long time before finally pressing down and raising the phone to his ear.
Across town at the Bodega Spa in SoHo, Sheila was enjoying a well needed foot massage while relaxing in a reclined chair and sipping on a glass of her favorite chardonnay. She had been up since six o’clock that morning and was exhausted after running errands all over the city with her newly hired publicist and personal assistant, as well as her wedding planner who had flown in from California two days ago to help make the wedding happen in a timely, yet fa
shionable manner. When she heard something buzzing from inside of her purse, she moaned and removed a fresh cucumber from one of her puffy eyes. She waved her hand at the woman massaging her feet, and she stopped to get up and reach for the purse, handing it over to her. Sheila pushed a button on the side of her chair which raised it straight up and pulled out her phone. She perked up the moment she saw Nathan’s name flashing across the screen and removed the other slice of cucumber from her eye while shooing away the woman at her feet. She sneered and skulked away, saying something under her breath that Sheila couldn’t understand.
She cleared her throat and swallowed hard before answering. As soon as she heard his breathing from the other side, she rolled her eyes into her head and sat back, sighing at how sexy he sounded without even saying a single word. “Hey baby,” she said in a soft and sultry voice, hoping to entice him where he stood.
“Hey.” He was more was curt than usual and to the point, which caught her a little off guard. They had spent the last few weeks in paradise while planning the wedding and making love – the latter of which before now was a task in and of itself – and suddenly it seemed that within just a few hours’ time, they were back to what they were before he agreed to change the date of the wedding. It left her feeling rather cold, while he came off aggravated and distant. “I just left Vanessa’s office and the monthly column is a no go.”
“Wait, what?” She flinched and knit her brows, now recognizing what was up. She tried remaining calm, though she was boiling inside after hearing those words. “I didn’t know you were going to see her about that,” she told him while fiddling with the rope tied around her robe. She jerked at it a few times, imagining it was the tie around his throat. “I thought we decided if I was going to do this, that I was going to go up there and talk to her about it myself to keep things from being weird?”
“They’re already weird – this whole thing is, weird.”