Miss Independent, Volumes 1 - 4

by Kiki Leach

  “I’m not sure if I can.”

  For the first time in their ten year marriage, she felt distant from her husband. He drank some of his beer and moved past her.

  Gina strutted around Maurice and Vanessa and plopped down on the couch, crossing her legs and crying out. “Where is the caterer – I am starving!”

  “I can whip up some quick lasagna for us,” Alexander suggested as he came back into the room. “We don’t have time to wait all night.”

  “Daddy, no. I wanted something exotic and tropical. Something like what Vanessa had for her sixteenth birthday.”

  “Aside from that outfit, I had Jell-O shots and multicolored vodka. That was about the only thing ‘tropical’ about my birthday that year, minus the rainbows I saw while trippin’ out.”

  “Please don’t remind us all of that,” Alexis said as she stood behind her husband. “Why don’t we head to Angelino’s? I’ll call the catering company, cancel the dinner and demand a refund.”

  Vanessa raised her hands. “Fine by me.”

  Gina got up from the couch and grumbled. “Whatever.”

  After dinner, Alexander, Gina and Alexis headed back home as Vanessa and Maurice took a cab back to their townhome. When they reached the front door, Vanessa grabbed for her keys. Maurice stood behind, resting his hand at the smallest part of her back.

  “I know that you kept ignoring me during dinner about Harold, but I still can’t get past him working at the magazine,” he said.

  “No one can.” She continued searching for her keys.

  “And he never mentioned why he chose to leave his profession to work for your mother? Knowing what he’s like, it seems like too much of a stretch.”

  She was becoming annoyed. “Yeah – Mo, let’s just drop it, alright? He’s there and it doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “I just hate that he has to be there working with you.”

  “I hate it too.”

  “When we were back in high school, his articles would always be the first one people would read--”

  She spun around and draped an arm across his shoulder. Once she had caught him off guard, she leaned forward and extended her tongue into his mouth. It was initially a method she planned to use in order to get him to stop talking, but as their lips moved in unison and the warmth and passion grew between them, it turned into so much more.

  “You promised me something tonight.” She kept her lips pressed against his and smiled. “And I know that you don’t ever back down on your word.”

  “I don’t. Not when it comes to this, and you.” They kept their lips together as she unlocked the door and pushed it back. He kicked it shut with his foot and immediately began to unbutton his shirt. She kicked off her shoes and threw her keys on the floor alongside her purse. “You think Nikki’s here?” he asked, taking her in his arms. He spun his tongue around the tip of hers and ran a hand over her breasts.

  “Probably not.” They eyed each other before going any further and called out Nikki’s name in unison. When they received no response, they grinned at each other and resumed kissing. He moved his hands up her thighs and inside her dress, near her panties. She jumped up in his arms and he held her with one hand while using the other to lead them upstairs to her bedroom.

  Part Twenty-Three

  Across town, Nathan and Sheila were finishing up what turned out to be a bland dinner at TAO Uptown, a place in which they normally had a decent time. It wasn’t the food or atmosphere that hadn’t turned out as well as they had hoped, it was the company they kept with one another – which really hadn’t felt like company at all, more like another person taking up unwanted space in the opposite chair. From the time they sat down, Nathan hadn’t bothered to ask about her day, which forced Sheila to feel more insecure in knowing that he could’ve cared even less than normal about the time she spent with their wedding planner, who admitted that she had yet to see him since coming to town. The day was getting closer and closer, and he had still made no real effort in moving things forward despite what he continued to tell her. Tonight was no exception, as he had more pressing things on his mind, like getting the hell out of there as quickly as possible and heading over to the Upper West Side.

  When the check finally arrived, Nathan pulled cash from his pocket to pay so that they wouldn’t have to waste the extra minutes in waiting for his card. Sheila grew suspicious in seeing him acting so anxious with the money as well as nervously sucking back his last whiskey – which he didn’t order often, but when he did, ordered too much of it in her opinion – but she didn’t ask questions because she knew that she would most likely not appreciate the answers he would give. That seemed to be more and more of a pattern as of late.

  After agreeing to leave about a twenty dollar tip for their very patient waiter, Nathan hustled Sheila outside and instantly hailed for a cab, whistling for each one that sped by.

  Sheila tossed her hair back and stared at him. “You know that we can always walk back to the hotel, right?” she said. “Just in case one doesn’t stop.” Another cab whizzed by them. “Which it doesn’t look like it’s going to. Besides, it might give us the time we need alone to talk since we didn’t get to do much of that during dinner.” Nathan continued hailing for a cab, ignoring her as she spoke. “There’s things I need to show you about the wedding that you didn’t get to see earlier tonight.”

  “I can see them later,” he muttered.

  When a cab finally stopped for them near the curb, he yanked the door open and gestured for her to climb in first. Then he waited, looking down at his hand as he gripped it around the handle and grit his teeth. As she slid to the other side of the car giving him enough room to scooch in beside her, she looked over her shoulder and saw that he had made no progress in moving any faster. Much like the wedding, he continued to stall.

  She bent down in the seat to look up at his face. “What the hell are you doing? Please get in so that we can just go. This night has been awful and you’re bound to make it worse,” she grumbled.

  “Then you should probably go back to the hotel alone.” He slammed the door.

  “What?!”

  “I need to make a run someplace else first as it is, and don’t want to make your night any worse than what it’s already been.”

  “If you leave me to go back to the hotel alone, you’ll be making it worse. Nathan--”

  He moved over to the passenger side in the front seat. “Can you take her back to The Palace?”

  “Sure thing,” the cabbie said, revving up the engine.

  “Nathan!” she screamed out, forcing the driver to jump in his own skin. She slid back to the other side of the car and stuck her head out of the window to look him directly in the eyes. “Where the hell are you going?”

  “I need to take care of something. Once it’s finished, I’ll be back at the hotel soon enough.”

  “You’re going to see her again, aren’t you?” she asked. She knew she was right when he didn’t say anything else aloud. “Why the fuck can’t you just leave her alone? She doesn’t want you around!”

  “Maybe not, but I fucked up earlier and feel like I need to make it right.” He was lying through his teeth, but she was too blinded by her rage to see it.

  “Make what right for who? Her, me, or ya’self?” He reached out to touch her face, but she was having none of it. “Get the hell off me.” She jerked herself away and fell back into the car. “Let’s just get the hell outta here,” she told the driver. She threw her purse to the side and turned her eyes toward the other window.

  “You got it, lady.”

  Once the cab took off, Sheila fell back in her seat and angrily exhaled. She thought of Nathan going to see Vanessa, and what would possibly transpire between them as it always seemed to, her newfound love for Maurice be damned. As the driver ran over a pothole, her purse fell into the floor. Everything from her makeup to her keys dispersed. When she picked them all up, reaching lastly for her phone, she sta
red down at the face of it and immediately thought of calling Adrian. He had put her in such a better place the last time they spoke and she wanted to feel that way again. She stuffed everything back into her purse except that phone and went straight to her ‘dialed numbers’ list. When she saw his name, her finger hovered over it for a few seconds before pressing down to make the call.

  But as soon as it started to ring, she immediately hung up. She wanted someone to talk to, who would listen to her without judgment and tell her she was worthy of being happy and loved for who she was, flaws and all; even if she wasn’t sure he necessarily believed every word he said to her, she knew that he was probably the only one willing to say the words with a smile on his face and no traces of mockery in his heart. At the same time, she knew that it wasn’t his place to make her feel that way. He wasn’t the one who promised to love her for the rest of her life, to be honest and faithful to her and their relationship. It was all a stretch with Nathan, but she was still so desperate to believe it. Even if she was starting to wonder why.

  She looked down at the phone again and stared at Adrian’s name one last time, and then pushed the delete button. If he was serious about pursuing something with her, she knew he would call her again, but she would pretend not to know his number. She threw her phone aside but remembered that she still had his information written down on that piece of paper. She searched her entire purse for it, but found nothing.

  Once back at the hotel and in her room, she looked all over for that piece of paper in any place housekeeping might have missed when they cleaned earlier in the day, but remained empty handed. She thought back to Nathan balling it up and throwing it on the dresser the night before, but she was certain she had picked it back up herself that morning and taken it with her. She knew he wanted nothing to do with it after she ‘explained’ the reason behind having it in the first place and started to think it was undoubtedly for the best if it was never found again. She already had enough problems when it came to dealing with her future husband, there was no need in adding yet another person to the mix of them all.

  After hitching his own ride from the restaurant, Nathan found himself sitting in front of Vanessa’s home. He and the driver had been waiting there for almost thirty minutes, which continued to be clocked from the moment he had pulled up to the curb. He looked back at Nathan in his rearview mirror, who stared at the house while recalling the last time he had been there, when Vanessa was so belligerent with him after their almost encounter in his hotel room. “Hey, pal,” the driver said. “Like I told you before, we can sit here all night or you can get out of the car. Either way, I’ll still be getting paid for all the time I’ve wasted in driving you around.”

  “It’s not time wasted if you’re getting paid for it,” Nathan replied. “Like a prostitute.”

  He finally dug into his pocket when he saw how much he had spent and pulled out a few bills. Before the driver could even reach for them, he tossed the money into the front seat and hopped out. He stood at the edge of the sidewalk and didn’t even look back as the driver counted all of his cash and sped away. He took in a deep breath and slowly walked up the stairs leading to her front door. Nathan told himself that Maurice was most likely inside with her, and wondered if he knew anything about her relationship with Adrian, and how it might have affected him if he did. Not that he gave a damn about Maurice’s feelings at all. He was only mildly curious if learning something like this would lead to the demise of their ‘relationship’. He knew it was improbable, given Maurice’s own history with women and what Vanessa had apparently accepted from him over the years, but he hoped in some sort of capacity that it would.

  He rested both hands on the frame and took another deep breath. He hoped she wouldn’t immediately toss him out once he started asking questions about her past with a man he didn’t even know, but he felt he deserved to hear from her if he was in fact the catalyst that led to the start and possible end of that relationship. In actuality, none of this should have even mattered to him anymore and deep down, he knew it. But in knowing the truth, it led him to wonder if things had been done differently back then or if he had stayed and fought for their relationship instead of leaving town while holding his tail between his legs, would it be him inside the house with Vanessa instead of Maurice. Would things be the same between them or that much worse than before she caught him in that shower? Would he have become a better person in being with her over the years as they aged, or would he remain the same, self-indulgent jackass he continued to be with Sheila?

  He finally decided to knock, hoping to seek those answers. He banged three times, each one being harder than the last, but received nothing in return. Now unsure if she was even home, he pulled himself back from the door and looked up into her windows. There was a shadowy light coming from what looked like one of the bedrooms, so he was certain that someone had to be inside. He rang the doorbell a few times to garner their attention, but still, nothing.

  “Damn it, V.” He reached for his phone to call, but it went directly to voicemail without ringing even once, which meant that it must have been turned off completely. He slid his phone back inside his pocket without leaving a message and balled his fist, anxiously slamming it against the palm of his other hand. He was becoming more and more restless the longer he stood around, but he didn’t know what else to do. He should’ve left, but didn’t want his coming out there to have been for nothing. He tried one last time in knocking and at that final bang, he felt the door creaking back from the frame. He looked down at the small crease between the two and lifted a brow while trying to peek inside. “V?” he called out.

  When he didn’t hear an immediate response, he lightly pressed his fingers against the door and pushed back until he could see the entirety of her foyer and straight back into her living room. He called out for her again, but became alarmed when she still didn’t answer and saw her purse on the ground with her keys and phone scattered from the door to the stairs. He saw her shoes tossed awkwardly on the other side and his gut plummeted. He swallowed back the trepidation he felt in moving further into her house without her acknowledgement and eased the door shut behind him. He had no idea who or what might have been waiting for him on the other side, but it wasn’t going to keep him from seeing what the hell might have been going on.

  When he went over to the kitchen and didn’t see anything out of place, he gradually moved toward the living room, but stopped completely when he heard a creaking noise coming from above his head. He looked up, then turned behind him, his eyes focused on the stairs. He looked to the ceiling one last time before heading over and placing his hand on the railing, grabbing on tight. With each step he took, he felt something moving further and further up inside his chest telling him to turn back, to leave the house and pretend as if he had never been there that night. But he couldn’t. Something bigger, stronger and much more powerful than a short whisper had compelled him to keep moving forward. Once he reached the top, he looked down either side of the hallway and saw that shadowy light again; it was only when he got closer that he realized it was the light blazing from a candle. As he crept closer to it, he heard a noise echoing between the walls and down to where he stood. It was the sound of a woman who expressed a pleasurable kind of pain, the kind that didn’t warrant any help from anyone except from the person providing it to her.

  Nathan’s eyes reddened in knowing that the voice of pleasure belonged to Vanessa, and his lids fell shut over them as reality began to sink in. He knew that if there were a moment to finally get the hell out of her house, it was then. He wanted to leave, but that feeling inside wouldn’t let him, and he kept going moving forward until he finally reached the inevitable.

  He peeked into her room through a small slit between the door and the frame, which gave him just enough space to visibly see Vanessa and Maurice. She was sitting on top of him, grinding and gyrating against his dick in a way that Nathan had never experienced with her. Her eyes were closed, her head faced the c
eiling; her legs were tightly wound around Maurice’s waist while her arms draped his neck and fingers wound into his hair. His tongue washed over her body as he moved his hands up her thighs, grunting in gratification as he thrust himself deeper inside of her. She bit down hard on her lip, drawing blood, and dropped her hands to his shoulders; she dug her nails into him so hard that she left tiny red marks on his skin. Her hair fell across her back and she called out his name in a soft moan.

  Nathan had an immediate urge to slaughter them both. He didn’t realize that this is what she must have felt in seeing him with Sheila. It never occurred to him as he stood there watching them because he was too busy trying to keep his food down and his hands from wrapping around Maurice’s neck, as well as hers. When he saw Vanessa lowering her face to Maurice’s for a kiss, he backed away as quickly as he could, hurrying down the stairs and out the front door.

  He had barely made it around the corner of her neighborhood before he held onto the side of another townhouse and vomited into their tiny flowerbed, gardenias ruined. He stood up once he was finally finished and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. There was a sense of betrayal in how he felt having seen it all, though he knew he had no right to feel such a thing, not only because of what he had done himself, but in knowing that he and Maurice were no longer friends. And more importantly, he and Vanessa were no longer in a relationship and most likely after tonight, never would be again. But it didn’t lessen the anger that literally boiled him from the inside out, or the desire in taking drastic measures to make sure he would never have to witness anything like that again.

  Back inside the house, Vanessa and Maurice had changed positions on her bed, as he lay her down and turned her to the side while pushing into her from the back. He reached a hand around to the front of her thigh, jerking her closer to him. She wrapped her arm around his neck and moved her face to meet his, inhaling his breath to take some for herself before covering his mouth with her own. He moved his hand up her stomach and to her breast, pressing down hard. She made a face as his fingers left a print on her skin, but it caused no discomfort.