Déjà Vu

by Suzetta Perkins

  “I am so ready to get started,” Angelica said, trying to cut through the slight strain or whatever it was that settled over the office.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll show you where you’ll be working after I put on a pot of coffee.”

  “Let me make it, Malik. That’s one thing I’m good at.”

  “Okay, help yourself.”

  Angelica felt Malik watching her. She made sure her best side was in view at all times. Although Malik was turning on computers and setting up for the day’s business, his eyes were trained on Angelica.

  The morning passed quickly since business was a little slow. All receipts were filed and inventory entered into the system. Angelica waited for Malik to give her further instructions.

  “Lunch time,” Angelica said heartily.

  “I brought my lunch. I rarely get a chance to get away from the shop, except to deliver computers and help with setups. We can share a sandwich, if you like.”

  “No, that’s all right. I’ll go out and get something.”

  Malik walked to where Angelica was sitting, took a chair and sat down. He ignored the smile on Angelica’s face or the legs that extended beyond the short skirt she chose to wear.

  “I’m not sure what your agenda is, Angelica, but I hope it doesn’t include hurting Margo.”

  “Why would you say that? Of course not,” Angelica said with a frown.

  “I want to believe you. Margo has been through enough without having to look over her shoulder every moment to make sure that she hasn’t made a mistake by letting you back into her life.”

  “Are you and Margo seeing each other?” Malik’s eyes widened. “You were always friends, more Jefferson’s than Margo’s,” Angelica continued, “but I’m wondering if all the preoccupation with Margo is because you are more than a big brother.”

  Malik got up out of his seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Angelica. Margo loves Jefferson, and that’s where her heart is.”

  “What about yours? I see how you look at her.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong. There’s nothing between Margo and me except friendship. She’s my best friend’s wife and I happen to care about her and want to make sure she’s all right.”

  “Whatever. You can tell me what you want, but I know what I see.”

  “Draw your own conclusions. Fact is fact.”

  “Look, I appreciate you letting me help you out, Malik. While I’d rather get paid, this will do for the moment. I’m going to be real with you. I want to get on with life, and hurting Margo is the last thing I want to do. I missed her very much. If I was half the woman…” Angelica stopped, lowered her head and then raised it. “If I was half the woman Margo has been, my life wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

  “I appreciate hearing that, Angelica. You are beautiful.”

  Surprise registered on Angelica’s face. “Thank you. Where did that come from?”

  “Just stating what is.”

  “I’m a little confused. All the times I’ve tried to get you to notice me, you’ve never given me a moment’s glance.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m stating what is.”

  “Let’s say I thought about taking you on a road test.”

  “A road test? You say that as if I was a piece of meat that you take out of the freezer if you get a little hungry.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that, Angelica. I apologize if it sounded harsh.”

  Angelica got up from her seat and stood directly in front of Malik. “What is it that you don’t like about me? I know you think that Jefferson and I were together when he had the accident. We weren’t together the way you think; I had gone to warn him about the hit on his life.”

  “So you’ve never been with Jefferson?”

  “No,” Angelica said too quickly.

  “Well, Ms. Angelica Barnes the Beautiful, my frat and best friend Jefferson must be a liar.”

  “What are you talking about, Malik?”

  “Why don’t you tell me? You’re turning over a new leaf. The truth might set your soul free.”

  “Okay, Malik, this is over. I’m going to get some lunch, finish out my day, and decide whether I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Malik gently grabbed Angelica by both wrists. “Look into my eyes and tell me you and Jefferson haven’t been together.”

  “Let go of me. Now. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Jefferson and I have not been together.”

  Malik released her arms. “You haven’t learned your lesson yet, and you’ll never be the woman Margo is.”

  “Funny, Jefferson said the same words to me.” Tears formed in Angelica’s eyes.

  “See, I know all about how you seduced Jefferson while you were married to Hamilton. I know all the sordid details. Jefferson didn’t leave a seedy detail to chance. That’s what frats do. They share everything—their joys, their toys, and their conquests. Yes, it even got me to thinking about hitting on you, but I’m not the dog Jefferson is. He’s my boy, but I didn’t agree with half the things he did, especially where it concerned Margo. Margo has been his whole life, and I hate that I hold the kind of secrets that would hurt her to the core.”

  “I believe my day here is done.”

  “I will never tell Margo, you know. She never needs to know that her best friend is a pole-dancing ho who laid with her husband.”

  “I hate you, Malik.” Angelica pointed her finger at herself. “You will never get to road test this because you’re not good enough. It takes a real man to handle Angelica Barnes. Ask Jefferson.”

  Angelica turned on her heels and started out the door. She turned around and looked back at Malik with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for nothing. I expected you to be more of a man than Jefferson. I guess I was wrong.”

  Malik watched her walk out, stop, and then run back into the shop.

  “What is it?” Malik asked with concern written on his face.

  Angelica’s chest heaved in and out. “Oh my God!”

  “What is it, Angelica? What happened out there?”

  “I saw the guy who was on the bus with me when I left prison.”

  “It’s probably a coincidence. Anyway, why would he be after you?”

  “No, Malik. It was the way he stared at me. He was in jail for armed robbery and attempted murder. He told me things about Hamilton—some terrible crap that these guys are doing to him in prison, things only someone on the inside would know. But the frightening thing is he doesn’t even know me. And then he mentioned Ms. Macy.”

  “Who’s Ms. Macy?”

  “One of the corrections officers at the women’s prison. I have a weird feeling about that man. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t feel good about it. If you don’t mind, I’d like to sit here a minute, and if you’re still offering half of your sandwich, I’ll accept.”

  “Sure. You can have the whole sandwich; I’m not that hungry.”

  “Malik, whatever you think of me, I’m not the same person you once knew. Yes, I am guilty of the things you accuse me of, but that was then and this is now.”

  “What things?” said the familiar voice. “You need to get a bell in this place, Malik, so nobody walks in on you.”

  “Margo, what are you doing here?” Malik blurted.

  7

  “Why are you both looking at me like that? Angelica? Malik? What are you guilty of, Angelica?”

  “Margo, Malik and I were talking about how I let you down as a friend.”

  “We’ve talked about it, but I thought we’ve agreed to move ahead with our lives.”

  “I plan to do just that, and the only way to do that is to get a real job that pays.”

  “Malik, can’t you pay Angelica? I was wondering why she would opt to do it for free.”

  “I’m not sure that Angelica wants to be hemmed up around computers all day,” Malik said.

  “Right. I don’t think anyone’s going to let me be a buyer for their store, but may
be doing a little retail, which is my love, would better suit me,” Angelica said.

  “You can cut the charade. I don’t know what happened between you being excited about working for Malik and this very minute, Angelica, but whatever it is, it’s on you. I was going to ask you both out to lunch—I just sold a four-hundred-thousand-dollar house—but since you’re being so secretive, I’ll take myself to lunch.”

  “But…” Angelica tried to say. Margo held her hand up, palm side to Angelica.

  “No, no. You and Malik continue your little conversation. You know that everything hidden eventually comes to the light.”

  Silence. Margo swung around and looked from Angelica to Malik. “It will come to the light.” Margo turned and left, swinging her purse over her shoulder.

  Malik moved to within an inch of Angelica. “You have opened old wounds. Margo is not going to rest until she finds out what we were talking about.”

  “If I’m not going to tell her and you’re not going to tell her, how is she going to find out?”

  Malik pondered the question for the moment. “You have to leave Fayetteville. You are a constant reminder of the past and, as long as you remain, Margo is going to want to know what we don’t want her to know.”

  “So, Mister I’ve Already Got This Figured Out, you’re going to tell me that I have to pack up my belongings and get out of Dodge so you and your girlfriend can live a peaceful life without having to dance around me and worry about me being up in your face? You know you want this, Malik.”

  Angelica removed the top button, then the second button on her jacket. “Mighty tempting, don’t you think?” She teased Malik while he stood staring at her breasts, which were encased in a lime-green plunging, push-up bra.

  “You’re not going to trap me in your web, Angelica. I kill spiders, especially black widow spiders with the venomous spot on their heart. You can take your spindly legs and try to wrap them around me, but you don’t want to mess with me.”

  Angelica looked up into Malik’s eyes. Her movements were sensual and slow as she lifted her mouth to his and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. She removed her lips and saw that Malik’s eyes were closed, his lips poised for another round. She tasted his lips again while slowly pawing her way down the front of his plush knit shirt. Angelica waited for him to open his eyes while she stared, daring him to resist her.

  Ashamed, Malik threw his hands out and moved back suddenly. Angelica continued to stare at him with eyes that were like magnets, drawing Malik closer the more he resisted.

  “You’re fired.”

  “Was never on the payroll. You want me to leave?”

  “Yes,” Malik said weakly. “Please put your clothes on and don’t bother to come back.”

  “Jefferson also found me irresistible, you know. He fought the urge like you’re doing, but it didn’t take much encouragement to lure him in.”

  “I’ll never be one of your victims, Angelica. You can count on that.”

  “Oh, on the contrary. You enjoyed the touch of my lips on yours. I was taking you to the brink, and you know you wanted to test the water, brother. But it’s all right.”

  They turned when they heard the bell. Angelica’s eyes grew large at the sight of the man in braids. He wore the same tattered jeans but had on a white, loose-fitting, crinkled shirt that buttoned down the front. His feet were curled up in a pair of brown sandals, and he wore a cap that partially covered his hair.

  “Hello there, missy. I thought that was you when I passed by a minute ago. Look different all dressed up in a suit and some high heels.”

  “Can I help you, sir?” Malik asked.

  “No. Just thought I recognized the pretty lady. She and I rode the bus to Fayetteville last week. We have some common interests.”

  “Is that right? Well, I think you make the lady nervous.”

  “You her man friend?”

  “No. I’m looking for a job,” Angelica spoke up. “Are you following me?”

  “No, in fact, I was headed to a job interview myself. I guess I better be going. Miss, you should close your jacket before another customer comes in.” The man saluted and walked out the store.

  Angelica had all but forgotten that her jacket was unbuttoned. She pulled it together and fumbled with the buttons until she had them all fastened. With a slight tremble in her hand, she held onto Malik’s arm for support and then let go. It could not have been coincidental that Walter, the man in braids, happened to be on the same street at about the same time. Malik may have hit the nail on the head. It was time to go—to leave Fayetteville—because the town gave her very little room to start a brand-new life.

  8

  She bought a one-way ticket to New York. The city made Angelica feel as if she belonged. Bright lights, tall skyscrapers, and the vast city with its millions of people seemed to welcome her with open arms. Lady Liberty waved her torch while the Empire State Building stood alone in the middle of Manhattan without the support of the Twin Towers.

  The plane circled the city and eased onto the runway at New York’s LaGuardia Airport. A surprise phone call from Hamilton’s cousin, Donna, had made leaving Fayetteville an easy decision for Angelica.

  Donna Barnes Reardon had established herself as one of New York’s notable fashion photographers. Having graduated at one of the top schools of the arts, her portfolio was a collection of rich and flamboyant designs modeled by Donna’s exotic friends from Brazil and Trinidad that she’d met years earlier while a student. There were trips to the island beaches of Jamaica and Bermuda where Donna took advantage of all she learned to advance a career that was in need of a jump-start. It didn’t take long for Donna’s work to be noticed and then for her to be hired by a well-known modeling agency.

  Donna needed an inexpensive subject for a personal project she was working on and remembered how excited her cousin’s wife, Angelica, had been about her work. Angelica loved fashion, which was evident by her love for the fashion retail industry. On a chance that Angelica might accept, Donna invited Angelica to come to the Big Apple and, much to Donna’s surprise, Angelica was available and on her way.

  This was going to be the new life Angelica craved. Far away from the place that swallowed her up and advertised her sins on a billboard 24/7, Angelica was grateful and flashed a full set of teeth, so beside herself was she at her newfound fortune.

  Hailing a cab, Angelica instructed the driver to take her to Manhattan. She sat in the back with the window down and let the breeze flow through her hair. Tranquil blue water from the East River separated Queens from Manhattan and the drive across soothed Angelica’s nerves.

  Much to Angelica’s disappointment, Donna was out on a shoot when the cab arrived at the high-rise condo. The phone call had been simple and abrupt with instructions for the doorman to let Angelica in. Angelica had expected red-carpet treatment on arrival with Donna talking a mile a minute about the new project, where she was going to take Angelica for dinner, who the who’s-who in town were and what fabulous stars they would be cozying up to. With no welcome in sight, Angelica sighed, put her hair into a ponytail, and willed her body from the cab along with her three pieces of designer luggage and her Hobo handbag.

  The doorman was an attractive, middle-aged Greek whose graying temples made him look distinguished. His cap sat atop a crop of thick, wavy curls that dropped below the hairline. His maroon and black doorman’s jacket fitted him like an Armani garment, custom-made for a movie star’s body.

  Silence engulfed the elevator during the ride to the twenty-fifth floor. The doorman stole glances at the tall, statuesque beauty. Four-inch stilettos adorned her feet, while a green three-quarter-sleeve, retro cotton and linen jacket sat on top of a sheer, green-and-black, cheetah-print, short-sleeve silk blouse. White wide-leg cotton and spandex pants completed her look. Their eyes connected, and Angelica forced a smile when the doorman winked.

  The doorman let Angelica in as Donna had instructed. He placed her luggage in the foyer and stood back
by the door. Angelica fumbled around in her large Hobo handbag, but when she finally pulled the money out, the doorman had already gone. She would have to get his name in case she needed someone to talk to.

  Angelica’s jaw dropped as she walked through the foyer and gazed around the room. It was a penthouse suite decorated for the rich and famous. Angelica walked through the huge living room/dining room with its mod furniture in colors of tangerine, chartreuse, blue, banana yellow, and coffee brown. The walls were painted custard yellow with off-white baseboards and trailer boards running the length of the rooms. The room was airy and light, but the highlight was the tremendous view of the city with a generous view of the Hudson River to the West and Central Park to the North.

  Museum-quality art hung on the luscious walls. On further investigation, she found that huge blown-up photographs of Latin-looking women done in black and white, probably Donna’s work, adorned the walls of another large room that was most likely Donna’s studio. Angelica fingered the work as if she were appraising it for auction. She went from one portrait to the next, admiring what everyone in New York already knew—an award-winning photographer lived here.

  Angelica walked around until she doubled back into the living room. For the first time since her arrival, she stepped into the stainless-steel jungle with the white and black tile running the length of the floor. Opening the refrigerator, Angelica had not expected to find it bare. A lonely, four-pack wine cooler that looked to be off limits sat in the back next to a block of cheese. Angelica took one of the coolers, went into the living room and sat in the chair closest to the window to take in the view.

  “Angelica.”

  Angelica jumped at the sound of Donna’s voice that was deep throat with too much “put-on.” It had been a long time since she had seen Donna, but to a casual observer, Donna looked like a young woman in an old person’s body. Too much make-up and her perfume was overpowering. Donna’s cocoa skin was beginning to show cracks—a sign that she was letting the industry suck her under.