Déjà Vu

by Suzetta Perkins

  How long was Angelica asleep? She wiped her mouth and noticed that the wine cooler still sat on the coffee table where she had left it.

  “Donna.”

  “Have you made yourself comfortable?”

  Angelica wasn’t sure if that was a slur about Donna finding her asleep on her best chair or if she really meant it.

  “Exhausted. Since I left Fayetteville so abruptly, I had to get someone to take care of my condo, my car, and stuff like the mail. I was so excited about getting away and coming to New York, I threw a few things together and caught the first thing smoking.”

  “You’ll come to love New York like I do.”

  “I think I already do,” Angelica said as she casually got up from her seat and stood in front of the window to peer out of it for the umpteenth time.

  “Well, I have an exciting project that I’m sure you’ll enjoy. The pay’s pretty good and, who knows, you may end up on the twenty-fifth like me.”

  “I’m intrigued.”

  “Have you eaten? If not, I know this great little jazz club in SoHo. We can have a bite to eat and talk about the project.”

  “Sounds great. I would like to know, Donna, why you called me. We haven’t spoken in a long time. Frankly, since Hamilton and I are no longer together, I thought I’d be the last person you’d call.”

  “My cousin, Hamilton. He’s probably getting what he deserves, sitting in that rotten prison. He’s my blood, but I’ve seen too many lives ruined at his hands.”

  “I wish someone would have told me before I married him.”

  “I understand he met you in a strip joint.”

  Ouch, that stung like a cattle rancher’s brand, Angelica thought. Where is this woman coming from?

  “Yes, Hamilton met me in a strip club. Haven’t you had some hard times? That’s why I was there.” Angelica moved away from the window and stood face to face with Donna.

  “Didn’t mean to offend you, Angelica. Just ironing out some facts. Let’s get started on the good foot. Give me some love.”

  Angelica didn’t feel like giving any love. She could feel her days being numbered at the penthouse, but she would go along with the program until something else came along. Right now, she was far away from Margo and Malik, and ready for a new adventure. She reached over and gave Donna a hug. “Thank you.”

  “As soon as I change, we’ll be on our way,” Donna said. “I think we’ll take the subway.”

  Angelica smiled. “Can’t wait.”

  9

  The doorman opened the door as Donna and Angelica approached. He gave Angelica another once-over as she glided past him in a flirtatious way, she turning slightly to see if he had noticed. Angelica still wore the outfit she had arrived in while Donna had slipped into a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a cream-colored satin blouse with a high collar and plunging neckline.

  “You trying to make a move on Ari?”

  “Of course not, Donna. I was being playful my first day in New York.”

  “Well, I hope so. Girl, there are bigger fish to fry, if you get my meaning. This town is full of those who have money and those who don’t, but money’s easy to get if you know the right person. And you will get to know the right person in this business.”

  “So, have you fried your fish?”

  Donna laughed. “You’re funny, Angelica.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be.”

  “Let’s say I wouldn’t be living in that fab Manhattan pad if I didn’t know the right people. My work speaks for itself, though. My degree and my training have not gone to waste. I know how to play the game because I’ve watched some of the masters at work, and if you want something bad enough, you do what you have to in order to get what you want.”

  “I may have lived in Fayetteville, North Carolina, but I know what I like.”

  “Let’s catch the subway. Sometimes I like to feel New York the way it touches everyday folk.”

  Angelica walked briskly, trying to keep in step with Donna. Donna was an intriguing person, and Angelica could not quite put a finger on her pulse. It would all unravel soon, and she hoped that in the days ahead she would be trading her small condo in Fayetteville for a high rise in Manhattan.

  They entered the station, walked down the stairs and purchased metro cards. Angelica wasn’t feeling the subway, but Donna seemed right at home.

  At Donna’s direction, they jumped on the train headed for SoHo. The train was crowded with business types headed to places unknown. The people seemed disinterested, deeply into themselves. There were no friendly hellos or the smiles that she was accustomed to in North Carolina.

  The train lurched and pulled into a station to let people on and off. A young woman carrying packages and a briefcase got on and held onto the pole in front of Angelica. As the train began to pull out of the station, the woman held the pole tightly with her hands and wrapped her thighs around the middle. Her bags were trapped between her feet and the bottom of the pole. The strap of her purse was slung over her shoulder. The movement of the train made her body swing along the pole like she was dancing on stage, and as the woman sought to hold on, Angelica had a flashback of her life before Hamilton.

  Angelica was a lot like the woman holding the pole. She held the pole like she owned it, making love to it with gestures that aroused the gentlemen who stared at her partially clad body. They begged her to take it all off. The woman at the pole had done this many times before because she moved with the train, squirming and leaning up against the pole when the moment called for it.

  “You all right?” Donna asked Angelica. “You seem to be in a daze.”

  “Thinking about life,” Angelica said.

  “Well, get ready, because the next stop is ours. We’ll have a light dinner, enjoy some jazz, and meet some people I’ve asked to join us.”

  “Oh,” was all Angelica could say.

  They got off at the next stop, Angelica following Donna like a lost puppy. Dusk had fallen quickly, but the feel of the nightlife was overtaking Angelica. And she liked how it felt.

  “Why do they call it SoHo?” Angelica asked.

  “Because it’s south of Houston Street. It’s not just that, though. This is the place where artists come alive—galleries full of artwork and boutiques that sell cutting-edge fashions. Here’s the place.”

  The music floated outside. Laid-back business types sucked on draft beer, trying to relieve the stress of the week, and others sipped martinis to set the mood for the rest of the evening.

  Angelica followed Donna to a table in a corner where three very attractive ladies sat. They could have easily been the women in the portraits that hung on the walls in Donna’s studio. Their makeup was flawless and the weaves on their heads cost at least a thousand dollars a pop. Broad smiles were on their faces as the two approached.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Donna said to each woman in turn, while pecking each with a dainty kiss to the lips. “This is my cousin, Angelica. She’s the one I was telling you about.”

  Angelica extended her hand and sat down. She would not be placing any kisses on anyone’s lips or jaws.

  “Hey, Angelica, I’m Jazz. This is Madeline to my right and Coco on my left. Glad to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine.”

  “Angelica flew in from North Carolina,” Donna offered. “She’ll loosen up after a while.”

  “We’re fashion divas,” Jazz said while the others laughed, including Donna. “Your cousin is a model’s gift to the big time.”

  “That’s what I hear,” Angelica said. “It appears she is very successful.”

  “So why have you come to the Big Apple?” Jazz asked, her accent thick and deep. Her facial features seemed exotic. Angelica figured her to be West Indian.

  “To get away from my past,” Angelica said with a frown. These women were beginning to annoy her, and she hadn’t been in the place five good minutes.

  “So what is your past?” Coco asked, opening her mouth for the first time.


  Angelica looked from Coco to Donna. She wasn’t sure what Donna had shared with these ladies, but her past was none of their business.

  “My past is just that—my past,” Angelica responded. “I need a drink.”

  Donna waved the waitress over and ordered two martinis. Angelica let out a small sigh. She wasn’t used to someone taking control over her every movement. She was a grown woman capable of ordering her own drink. In fact, Angelica was not very comfortable with the little group that was assembled. Maybe she was tired. Tomorrow would be a new day.

  “They have wonderful sandwiches here, Angelica,” Donna said. “I think I’ll have a beef sandwich au jus.”

  “Order two,” Angelica consented.

  “Angelica, these ladies are part of the project I was telling you about,” Donna began. “We are going to do a photo shoot for a new magazine. I’m really excited about it because I’m the exclusive photographer for this magazine, and the monetary reward is more than generous.”

  A smile trickled across Angelica’s face. For the first time tonight, she had something to smile about. “That’s great, Donna,” Angelica said. “And you’re willing to take a chance on a non-model.”

  “Well, my contract said that I had to have a set number of women in the shoot. I happened to be talking with my mother and aunt on three-way when they told me you had been released from prison. I remembered how you loved to dress in the finest and command attention at every family event I ever attended. Then it came to me that you might be the person I was looking for.”

  Angelica sat in silence. The waitress placed her drink in front of her followed by her food. Her privacy had been violated with Donna’s announcement. The fact that Angelica had just gotten out of prison didn’t seem to faze the ladies, though—Donna had probably given them her bio long before her plane landed in New York. It sucked, and Angelica wished she were back in Fayetteville in her own condo—a place she had left without even telling Margo she was leaving.

  The cafe was crowded, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. It was hard to hear at times, but the light jazz put Angelica in a melancholy mood. She had tuned out Donna and her friends and turned to get a better view of the two brothers who sat a couple of tables over. They glanced over a couple of times, but Angelica failed to keep their attention.

  Turning around, she saw Donna slide her hand over Madeline’s arm. It might have been an innocent gesture, but it reminded Angelica of the way Ms. Macy would handle the new inmates when they came to quad L.

  “So what kind of ad are you shooting?” Angelica asked Donna, making an attempt to belong.

  “There will be several, which is why the pay will be lucrative. Angelica, you will not make as much as the other girls because they are on union scale, but you will make enough to be independent.”

  “When do we start?”

  “On Monday. You have the whole weekend to rest up because we’re just getting started. I hope you’ve got on your dancing shoes.”

  “I’m ready.”

  10

  Ding, dong. Ding, dong.

  “Hold on, Ivy, someone’s at the door.”

  Ding, ding.

  “Malik,” Margo said upon opening the door. “What are you doing here?”

  Margo blushed. “Checking on my favorite girl.”

  “I’ve got my daughter Ivy on the phone. We were about finished. Come in and make yourself comfortable.”

  “Okay,” Malik whispered.

  “Hey, Ivy, I’m back. It was Malik checking on me.”

  “I think he likes you, Mom.”

  “We’ve been friends a long time. We’re like brother and sister.”

  “Okay, tell me anything. You better go on and get you some because Dad ain’t gonna be any good when he finally gets out of prison.”

  “Ivy, don’t talk like that. I’m your mother, for goodness sake. Anyway, I’m in this marriage for the long haul—for good or for worse. And it’s your daddy we’re talking about.”

  “Mom, you have every reason to be with someone else.”

  “Bye, I’ve got to go. I’m not going to put up with any foolish talk like that.”

  “Why are you whispering? Is Malik still there? Mom, you aren’t foolin’ nobody. Talk with you later.”

  “Bye, sweetie.”

  Margo hung up the phone, and her stomach started to flutter for no reason. She walked into the living room where Malik had made himself comfortable on the couch—a remote in one hand and the newspaper in another. Fire began to burn in Margo’s stomach and then radiated downward. Surely this wasn’t happening at Ivy’s mere suggestion.

  Blowing air from her mouth, Margo sat across from Malik and pretended to look at the program on television.

  “How is Ivy?”

  “She’s doing fine. She worries about me all the time,” Margo said softly. “I don’t think she or J.R. will ever come back home to live—they love it in Atlanta.”

  “Well, at least Winston and Winter aren’t far,” Malik said as he surfed the channels.

  “Yeah, they’ve really bonded since they moved to Raleigh two years ago and are making all of that good money in the Research Triangle Park. Their college education paid off. Keeps them out of my pockets.”

  Malik looked up from the television. “What’s wrong, Margo? You seem distracted and awfully quiet for the chatterbox you are.”

  “Am I? I answered all your questions.”

  “Have you eaten anything? Maybe we can go and get a bite.”

  “Not tonight, Malik. I’m feeling a bit tired.”

  “What if I run and get us some Chinese? You haven’t eaten; I can tell.”

  “Don’t go out for me.”

  “Maybe you didn’t hear, but I’m hungry, too.”

  “All right. Maybe some Chinese.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Margo was glad to put some distance between herself and Malik. Why did Ivy’s suggestion make her feel like she had been cheating? Was this a suppressed desire? She had to be careful. She had made a vow to Jefferson and the Lord, and two wrongs didn’t make a right—even if she was having feelings for the handsome man with the six-pack, wavy hair, and hands that made her feel safe. Margo shook her head to erase the thought from her mind and then fell to her knees.

  Lord, I ask You to take the temptation, if that’s what it is, away from me. I am Your child, and I have committed my life to You. You have been so good to me, Lord, and I won’t let anything compromise the love I have for You and my getting into Your kingdom. If this means telling Malik that we can’t hang out all the time, that’s what I’ll do.

  Margo was puzzled about one thing. Malik had not mentioned Angelica and she had not been able to reach her the past couple of days. That would be the first question for Malik when he returned. Angelica seemed excited about working with Malik, but Margo knew that Angelica always had a silent crush on him.

  There was a knock on the door. It was impossible for Malik to have gone to the Chinese take-out that fast, but when she opened the door, there he was, smiling and holding several white plastic bags full of good smelling food. Margo was suddenly hungry.

  “Take a seat and I’ll fix it for you,” Malik offered. “You’ve had a long day, and you deserve a little pampering.”

  “You’re not my husband, Malik,” Margo said, throwing up her hand at him and then letting out a giggle. “Stop trying to give me orders.” She giggled again. “Maybe I’m going to have to keep you at bay because you’re getting a little bit too comfortable.”

  Malik laid the spoon down on the table and turned around and looked at Margo.

  “What are you trying to say, Margo? I know you’ve been awfully quiet tonight, but if you don’t want me here, say so.”

  “No, Malik, it’s not like that at all. I guess I was thinking about Jefferson and what my life has become,” Margo waved her hands, “and I guess I let my confusion get the best of me.”

  “What are you confused about?”

/>   “Did I say confused? See, that’s what I mean, Malik. My head doesn’t seem to be screwed on straight, and I say words I don’t mean.”

  “So try saying what you mean.”

  “I don’t know what I mean.”

  “Perhaps what you’re trying not to say is that you’re feeling something for me like I’m feeling for you.”

  “Malik!!!”

  “You are not a dumb blonde, Margo. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Sending Angelica to my place to try and knock me off my equilibrium. Nice try.”

  “Speaking of Angelica, where is she?”

  “Don’t try to change the subject, woman. Angelica isn’t the subject of this conversation. Why don’t we eat our food before it gets cold? It’ll probably give us enough energy to continue the conversation you started.”

  Margo batted her eyes and sat back down. Malik may have won round one, but she and Jesus were going to win round two.

  Malik fixed the plates and brought one to Margo. No words were exchanged as they ate their food. Soon, the only noise came from a Target commercial that was playing on TV.

  “Enough of this,” Malik exclaimed, putting his plate on the coffee table.

  Margo’s startled face turned in Malik’s direction as she wondered what would come next. Her chest heaved in and out as she watched Malik get up and come toward her. Before Ivy’s call, she and Malik were fine. It was as if Ivy had pulled the mask from her face and exposed her to the world. And her heart was admitting what her mind had blocked out—that she might be…could be a little infatuated with this man.

  Malik sat next to Margo and put his arm around her. Margo moved to the far end of the couch. “What are you doing?” Margo asked.

  “Surely you had to know that I have feelings for you. Why do you think I come around all the time?”

  “Malik, you have always come around. I thought you were looking out for your best friend’s wife.”

  “I was, but then I began to look out for myself. There were many days, Margo, when I’d get close to you and smell your hair, and I would literally have to run home and take a cold shower.”