by Alex Marcoux
Anastasia naturally held Sidney’s slim waist with one arm and laced Sidney’s long fingers with her other hand. She directed her toward the center of the dance floor, away from Carol. “Maybe next time we tell you someone has the hots for you, you’ll believe us.” Anastasia could feel Sidney tense by her touch. “Relax, I’m not gonna bite.”
But relaxing was beyond Sidney’s control, and she was ready to leave the dance floor when Anastasia slowed almost to a stop. “Sidney, women dance together all the time.”
“That’s usually fast dancing.”
“Okay. Women slow dance with male friends all the time. Why can’t women slow dance with female friends?” Anastasia seemed proud of her logic. “Oh, that’s right, we’re not friends. We’re only what? Co-workers? Or better, business associates?”
“Look, thank you very much, but I didn’t need you to come to my rescue.”
Anastasia was not looking for a confrontation. The music became slightly more upbeat, and Anastasia introduced more space between herself and Sidney, but continued to partner dance. She introduced moves reminiscent of the old disco songs, and twirled Sidney around and back. Anastasia could feel that Sidney was becoming less tense. “Truce?” she asked as she twirled Sidney around one more time.
“Truce.” Sidney smiled.
Toward the end of the song, Anastasia asked seriously, “Do you tango?” But Sidney was not given a chance to respond. Anastasia moved her baseball cap backwards, so the rim was pointing behind her. Then she firmly took Sidney’s hand and waist, pulled her close and led her into the tango stance. Sidney found part of it funny, yet realized Anastasia was an impressive dancer. She followed Anastasia’s lead. The two of them were unaware of the audience that cheered and clapped as they danced across the floor. Sidney was oblivious to the camera flash, camouflaged by the dance floor lights, and Anastasia was unaware that Stephanie was drinking obsessively as she watched at a nearby bar.
As the dance ended, Anastasia expertly dipped Sidney and held the posture until their eyes met. Anastasia smiled at Sidney as she helped her up. Sidney fought from returning the smile, but ultimately surrendered.
Quickly exiting the dance floor, Sidney returned to collect her belongings. She told the group she was leaving and wished everyone a good evening. Natalie walked with Sidney to the door. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I think. Go back and have a wonderful time. It was nice meeting Karen. She’s charming.” Sidney hugged her friend and was gone.
As Natalie watched her leave, again she thought, God, it’s nice to see her smile again.
The cool night air hit Sidney as she left the club, and she began to feel lightheaded. How much did I drink? she wondered. Looking out into the full parking lot, she tried to remember where she had left her car. Soon she realized she was displaced and confused. She glanced at her watch and realized it was 1:30 A.M. Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s this late. Where are the limos? I parked near them. Sighting one of the vehicles, she started walking toward it.
“Sidney?” She heard a familiar voice call her from behind.
She turned to see Anastasia running toward her. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Anastasia answered. Then she tried to catch her breath. She pulled the baseball cap off her head, ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face. Beads of perspiration glistened on her face. “I wanted to thank you for coming tonight. I know you didn’t want to, and Natalie practically begged you to come. But…well, I’m just glad you came.”
“I’m glad I came too. I had fun.”
“Well … I don’t want to keep you. Good night, and drive carefully.” Anastasia turned and started walking away. Sidney continued searching for her car.
A couple minutes passed, then she heard the familiar voice again. “How come we’re not friends?” Anastasia was almost yelling from 30 feet away.
Sidney walked back toward Anastasia and asked calmly, “Excuse me?”
“Most performers are friends with their personal managers. It, like, goes with the job.” She continued to walk toward Sidney.
“I’m not like most managers.”
“Right from day one, you’ve been…unapproachable.” Anastasia was getting upset. “You have this attitude like you’re better than me or you don’t want to have anything to do with me, personally anyway.”
“Anastasia, it’s not personal. Over the years I’ve just found it easier to maintain business-only relationships with artists I work with. That’s just the way I work. It’s less complicated that way, and easier to be…unattached. Besides, friends usually have things in common,” Sidney continued. “Anastasia, I don’t see the two of us sharing similar interests.”
“Well, maybe that’s the problem.”
“What?” Sidney asked.
“This is a one-sided relationship. You know me and I know nothing about you. The way I see it is-we’re both women, we both work in the music industry, and we’re both obsessed with our careers. Those are things in common. Just because I’m gay and you’re straight doesn’t mean we don’t have enough in common to be friends.”
“Your sexual orientation has nothing to do with the fact that we’re not friends. I consider Natalie one of my closest friends. Friendships require a lot of time and work. I just don’t have the time to invest in one new friendship, never mind all the artists I work with.”
“With an attitude like that, you’ll go through your life missing out on a lot of friendships.”
“Probably so, but everyone sets their own priorities. I’ll respect your life, if you respect mine.” Sidney offered a handshake, then smiled. “Truce?”
Anastasia smiled weakly, then shook Sidney’s hand. As she walked back to the club she thought, I don’t know her but there’s a part of me that somehow feels connected to her.
Chapter 16
The morning following the party was business as usual for Sidney. Her staff, however, was not as dedicated. She was glad to see that someone had made arrangements for a temp to answer the phones, since Michelle did not arrive until nine o’clock. Slowly after that, the remainder of the staff arrived, discussing events from the previous evening.
At 2:35 P.M. Michelle interrupted Sidney on the intercom. “Sidney, Timothy Clausin is on line two.”
“Thanks Michelle.” She picked up the phone. “Hi Timothy, how are you?”
“Sidney, I’ve watched Anastasia’s tapes,” the producer started. “The camera likes her, but she needs acting lessons. Filming starts in three months; get her prepared. Plan on having her meet Brett before filming starts. I’ll have a contract sent out on Tuesday.”
Sidney was excited when she got off the phone with Timothy. My first movie deal. Immediately, she sought somebody to share her news. At her secretary’s desk, she found Michelle swallowing a couple aspirin. “Okay, you can congratulate me now.” Sidney was gloating.
“What did you do now?” Michelle asked.
“Anastasia got the leading role in Clausin’s next movie, The Rivalry.”
“Congratulations,” Michelle said. But she seemed unimpressed.
Sidney refused to let Michelle’s hangover affect how she was feeling. She knew this was a major accomplishment and wanted to share it with someone who would appreciate it. Both Nelson and Natalie had left early for the holiday weekend.
“Michelle, would you call Anastasia and find out if she’s going to be home the rest of the afternoon? Be discreet. Don’t tell her about the movie.”
Ten minutes later, Michelle entered Sidney’s office. “Well, she’s not at home. She’s at Stephanie’s apartment in the Village. I guess they just went there after the party last night. She wanted to know what was up. I told her we needed to send over a courier with some paperwork. So, how’d I do?”
It was 4:15 P.M. when Sidney left work, intending to surprise Anastasia with the news. But as she drove to Greenwich Village, she started having second thoughts. She had never been to Stephanie�
��s apartment and was feeling uneasy about crashing their personal space.
I’ll leave it up to fate, she decided. I’ll see how easy it is to find a parking space. Finding a space was actually easy. Must be because of the holiday weekend, she thought. Then she walked into the apartment building’s secured lobby, and as a woman exited she held the door for Sidney.
As the elevator door opened to the fifth floor, Sidney heard loud heavy metal music. People can be so inconsiderate, she thought as she walked the hallway searching for Stephanie’s apartment. She realized that as she came closer to apartment 504, the music became louder.
The entrance door to Stephanie’s apartment was ajar and the deafening music was coming from inside. Sidney knocked loudly on the door and it opened. “Steph?” She yelled into the apartment. There was no response. Sidney continued to knock on the door as she walked into the apartment entry. “Anastasia,” she yelled. Still there was no response.
Sidney couldn’t see anyone from the foyer so she ventured into the kitchen and dining area, but still found no one. As she looked into the living room, she saw that the room was in disarray. Overturned plants and a broken vase cluttered the floor. Although the blinds were closed and the room was poorly lit, the carpeting and furniture were light in color, emphasizing the disorder.
Sidney’s heart began to race, but she was not sure if it was because of the blaring music or the apprehension from her surroundings. Then she saw something dark on the carpeting about five feet from her. She felt the carpeting. Wet. Blood. It formed a trail. With her eyes she followed the blood to the couch, but the couch was empty. A broken frame lay on the floor and Sidney picked up the smashed picture of Stephanie and Anastasia. When she reached to place the picture on a shelf, she saw the body curled up between the corner wall and the couch.
Sidney crept fearfully to the body. Oh my God, she thought as she knelt, realizing it was Anastasia. Blood had soiled the carpeting around her. Anastasia’s head was tucked between her knees and her back was against the couch.
Gently, Sidney placed her hands on Anastasia’s shoulders, but she was not prepared for the eruption. Anastasia struck out blindly with one fist while protecting herself with her other arm. She caught Sidney squarely in the jaw. Sidney was able to rebound and restrain Anastasia by wrapping her arms around her.
“It’s me, Sidney,” she shouted.
The deafening music muffled her voice and Anastasia’s eyes remained closed as she continued to squirm from Sidney’s hold. Sidney knew her grip would not last long. She started to gently rock her, back and forth, hoping the action would calm her. In a minute or two Anastasia’s resistance weakened. In return, Sidney’s hold upon her loosened as she continued to rock her.
Sidney saw the deep gash on Anastasia’s forehead. Blood had trickled into one eye, obstructing her vision, while the other eye was swollen shut. Finally, Anastasia attempted to open her eyes. When she saw Sidney and not her assailant, the remaining resistance vanished, and she embraced her.
Sidney gently lifted Anastasia’s chin, enabling eye contact. Then she yelled, “Where’s your receiver?”
“What?”
“Your amplifier, where is it?”
“Dining room,” Anastasia shouted back.
Gently, Sidney repositioned Anastasia against the couch, then left to search for the sound system. She found a built-in unit in the dining room wall and turned it off. The sudden quiet drew Sidney’s attention to her pounding heart. Then she returned to Anastasia.
“Do you know where she is?” Sidney asked.
Anastasia shook her head.
“Could she be in the apartment?”
“Anything’s possible with her.”
“Stay here; I’ll be right back.”
Sidney quickly looked through the apartment but found no sign of Stephanie. Then she returned to Anastasia with some towels and a cold, wet facecloth. She placed the dressing on Anastasia’s forehead wound.
“Can you walk?”
“Yeah.” Anastasia pulled herself up on the couch.
“Do you have clothes here?”
“Bedroom closet, on the left side.”
Sidney worked fast. She rummaged through the clothing, found a pair of jeans, a baseball hat, sunglasses, a T-shirt and a large cotton shirt. She helped Anastasia into the oversized shirt to hide the bloodstained clothing. Sidney loosened the baseball cap and placed it on Anastasia’s head and finished the disguise with the sunglasses.
Tucking the extra clothing under one arm, she grabbed hold of Anastasia’s hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
The two hurried as they exited the building, trying to be inconspicuous among the pedestrians. When they reached the Mercedes, Sidney opened the passenger-side door, allowing Anastasia to enter. As she turned, she could see Stephanie walking down the sidewalk toward the car. Shit. God…please don’t let her see me. Calmly she closed the car door, casually walked to the driver’s door and got into the vehicle. She started the car and pulled out of the parking space. In the rear-view mirror, Sidney could see Stephanie continue her stroll down the street, oblivious to their escape. Thank you.
As Sidney put distance between herself and Stephanie, she looked at Anastasia. “You look like shit.” Anastasia’s left eye was still swollen shut and the right side of her face was coated with dried blood.
“You look like you went a round, too.” Anastasia raised the towel to Sidney’s lip and gently rubbed it. “Sorry.”
Sidney looked in the vanity mirror above the visor. Blood ran from her mouth down to her jaw. With a tissue, she rubbed the blood from her face. I must have cut the inside of my mouth when she hit me. She pulled out her cellular phone and pressed the numbers. “Hi Nancy, this is Sidney Marcum. I’m on my way to you; is Tom in?”
Sidney headed uptown and took Anastasia to New York Hospital to see Thomas Phelps. His nurse, Nancy, recognized Sidney as they walked in and immediately escorted the two to a private examination room. She exchanged a hug with Sidney, then turned her attention to Anastasia’s forehead.
Within minutes, Dr. Phelps entered the examination room. “Why Ms. Smith, I see you’ve fallen again.”
Sidney set the clean clothing on a chair, then left the room while Anastasia was being examined.
At the nurses’ station Sidney called Natalie. She was disappointed when she was greeted by her answering machine.
“Natalie, it’s Sid. Call me as soon as you get this message. Please. It’s about six o’clock on Friday evening. Call my cellular phone.”
Maybe she has her cellular with her. Sidney tried Natalie’s cellular phone, but the phone was either out of range, or off. Shit.
Dr. Phelps invited Sidney into his office. “I stitched up her head. It was a clean cut; there shouldn’t be any scarring. The biggest concern is whether she has a concussion. Call me if she starts vomiting or has diarrhea. Tonight, wake her every couple of hours. Make sure she’s alert, then let her go back to sleep.”
“Otherwise, she’s okay?”
“Hell no, until she stops…falling, she’ll never be okay.”
*
Anastasia changed into the clean jeans and T-shirt, and the two returned to the car. Before they left the parking garage, Sidney took out her cellular phone and called Natalie’s cellular. Please, Nat, be there. Still, no one answered. Once again, she tried Natalie’s home phone; again she was greeted by the answering machine. Shit. What am I going to do with Anastasia? “Hi Natalie, this is Sid, call me on my cellular.”
“Anastasia, do you have any friends you could stay with tonight? Perhaps someone that Stephanie wouldn’t know about.” It’s a long shot.
“Just take me home, Sid.”
“What about Stephanie?”
“I can’t run from her the rest of my life. If she wants to find me, she’ll find me.”
“Why put yourself back in the line of fire? Give yourself time to think, or at least heal.”
“I’ll be okay. Just take me h
ome.” She rested her head back and closed her eyes.
Sidney headed toward the Lincoln Tunnel. Traffic getting out of the city was heavy because of the holiday weekend. While heading south on the New Jersey Turnpike, memories of Michael’s abuse crept into Sidney’s reality. No, you don’t, she lectured herself.
Anastasia seemed to have fallen asleep. At the Garden State Parkway exit Sidney contemplated, What do I do? Nat, please call. She stared at the phone, but it did not ring. Waiting to pay the toll, she pondered, Do I head north and take her home? Or do I bring her home with me? I hate the thought of bringing her into our home. Someone is supposed to watch her tonight, she reminded herself. What if Stephanie comes looking for her? God, what do I do?
She paid the turnpike toll, then turned left at the fork, south on the parkway toward “Shore Areas.” As she merged into heavy traffic she turned off her cellular phone. Traffic was heavy most of the way. Anastasia slept for much of the trip, except when Sidney poked her to see if she would wake up. Then she said, “Go back to sleep,” and Anastasia did. By the time she arrived home, it was close to ten o’clock.
Sidney was surprised that the noise from the garage door closing did not wake her. She got out of the car and opened the passenger’s door. “Anastasia, wake up. Anastasia?”
“Yeah?” She opened her eyes. When her eyes became accustomed to the surroundings she asked, “Where are we?”
“You’re at my house, for tonight anyway.”
“I told you to take me home.”
“Someone has to wake you up tonight, doctor’s orders.”
Sidney escorted Anastasia into a guestroom with a private bath. She went to the dresser and pulled out hospital scrubs. “You can use these for pajamas. In the bathroom you’ll find a toothbrush and other toiletry items; make yourself comfortable. If you need something, I’ll be in the kitchen.”