Truth & Consequences: A Miss Independent Novel

by Leach, Kiki

  “Where is she?” Nikki asked again.

  She folded her arms over her chest and slightly rolled her neck to make it seem as if she didn’t have a single damn to give about Nikki’s concern. “All I know is that she wasn’t here when I woke up.”

  “Esa es la pregunta del millón de dólares!” said Nikki. Sheila grimaced. “Because what the hell are you doing here in the first place, chica? Vanessa has never been one to keep RATS for pets, let alone allow them to stay inside her home unless she doesn’t know about them crawling through the walls!”

  “I don’t think the reason behind me being here is really any of your business, Nik.”

  “This is my house too, Sheil’s. So that makes you ‘being here’ my business just as much as it does Vanessa’s.”

  “Is it really still your house, boo? Because from what I’ve seen in the society pages, you haven’t spent much time here since we all came back from the Hamptons. And from what I have heard from other people is that you’ve made William’s place your new pit stop in between auditions and” – she looked her up and down and smirked – “other things. So I think that makes this house more Vanessa’s than yours. But it’s always been that way, right? Since all you’ve ever done is mooch off of her and what she has.”

  Nikki swallowed back her rage and looked over at the phone. “If you don’t tell me what the hell went on here last night with her or where she is now, I’m calling police.”

  “In how many different languages do you want me to tell you that I don’t know where she is?!”

  “I think you’re full of shit.”

  “And I think you’re hard of hearing!”

  Nikki reached for the receiver and began dialing, but Sheila was quick to snatch it from her and shove it back down on the hook.

  With her hand still wrapped around the handle, she shoved her way into Nikki’s space and clinched her jaw tight. “I came here last night to talk to V about something personal, you nosy bitch. We had some wine, I had a little too much and she let me stay here instead of sending me back home drunk off of my ass.”

  Nikki shoved her back and crossed to the other side of the room. “Vanessa would send you out into the traffic herself before she let you stay here, drunk or not. She knows what kind of bullshit that you’re capable of, which never ends well for her or the rest of us.” She ran to her purse in the living room and dug around inside of it for her cell phone. “I’m calling her.”

  “Go ahead.” Sheila headed back into the living room as well and grabbed the blanket from the couch, folding it at every angle and draping it over the edge.

  Nikki placed the phone to her ear and stared at Sheila with deep curiosity and wonder. Vanessa must have absolutely been drunk out of her mind to let her stay overnight. And if she wasn’t responsible for that broken railing and dried blood, then who the hell was?

  After twice dialing and reaching nothing but Vanessa’s voicemail, Nikki left a quick message asking her to call back, then hung up quick and dropped her phone back inside her purse.

  Sheila grabbed her shoes, sliding them on one by one, then turned back to Nikki and condescendingly stuck out her bottom lip while tilting her head. “Couldn’t get ‘Mami’ on the phone to tell her about everything that’s been going on since she was gone?”

  “Eat it, bitch.”

  She lifted both brows and threw her head back. “Isn’t that something you often tell most of your clients?”

  “Well since Nathan was the first on my list of many, why don’t you go home and ask him.”

  A seething Sheila quickly got in her face and peered. “You wanna run that by me one more time, chica?”

  “He never told you about that, perra?” And then Nikki laughed, realizing she could only take something like that so far before she stopped believing it herself.

  Two seconds from tossing a fist directly to the square of her jaw, Sheila stepped back and violently ripped her own purse from the couch. “Lying bitch.”

  “Takes one to know one, doesn’t it, Abeja Reina of them all?”

  Sheila stomped back through the foyer and went straight to the door. But Nikki wasn’t exactly done with her just yet.

  “Hey!” she called out.

  She stopped just as her fingers reached the handle.

  Nikki turned her eyes to the floor while slowly advancing toward Sheila and pointing at the broken railing.

  “If that,” she emphasized, “had nothing to do with you and Vanessa, then did she tell you what happened to it?”

  Sheila glanced over at the broken pieces of wood, then turned to Nikki and shrugged. “I guess that’s something you’re going to have to ask her about. Isn’t that what best friends are supposed to do? Talk about the shit going on in their lives? Vanessa and I had a healthy dose of that last night. You might want to take note if you plan to stay in her life for the long haul.”

  She scoffed. “You think that just because you had a few drunk talks that she probably doesn’t even remember today, that it makes you friends again?”

  “I feel like we’re getting there. In fact, I know that we’re closer than you two have been over the last few months.”

  “And what makes you think something stupid like that?”

  “Because I know things about her, personal, private things that she shared with me and no one else.”

  Nikki’s eyes traveled up and down Sheila’s physique and she shook her head. “Vanessa wouldn’t trust you with anything private, and how could she when you’re part of the reason why her life has become so insanely chaotic over the last few years.”

  Sheila split her full lips into a deceitful smile. “It’s so clear to me just how much you wish things were exactly the way as you described.” She sighed. “I can tell behind that fake, bitchy attitude that you don’t really think I’m lying at all, and it scares the shit out of you because it’s more proof that you’re slowly losing her.”

  She chortled, despite the terror building up inside of her second by second that Sheila was in fact right about it all. “You think I’m afraid of losing her to you?”

  “I think you’re afraid of losing her to everyone who isn’t you. What I just said about us last night is eating you up inside. You’re trying like hell to hide it, but I can see it all on your face just from the way that you’re looking at me right now. That terrified look in your eyes is telling me no lies,” she said while attempting to hold back a laugh of her own. “I’m worming my way back in while you seem to be worming your way out. And you know what, it’s probably for the best that you two aren’t friends like you were anymore. Like I said before, everyone knows how her friendship has been more of a benefit to you than it’s ever been to her. But at least you still have William to get you through the nights, right? How are things going with that, by the way? Stronger than ever?”

  “Compared to you and your elastic vagina, we’re still solidly intact.”

  Sheila tilted her head back and cackled, then wagged her finger in Nikki’s face.

  “Again with that sense of humor. And speaking of things that make me laugh, what you said reminds me of something funny that I saw just the other day involving Oscar when I stopped in for a coffee at his shop.” Nikki blinked, attempting to appear unbothered but from the sudden twitch of her lip and keen awareness the moment she said his name, Sheila knew that she had hit just the right nerve and continued on. “He’s looking pretty damn good as far as I could see, and happy. I may stop by The Bean again on my way back to The Palace. You want me to give him a quick hello for you?”

  “What I want you to give me is the funny part of this conversation,” Nikki replied.

  “Right, right, the funny part, which involved him being there with Melanie,” she said. Nikki’s face immediately fell. Sheila beamed. “It was funny because right before she left, I saw him kiss her, deeply. It was the kind of affection I could only wish Nathan would take the time out to show for me in public. The kind that only couples in fairytales seem to get. But
I guess those of us that live out here in the real world can’t have everything, can we? Fantasyland seems to only exist for those inside of books. Which I’m starting to notice is much more accurate in your case than anyone else’s I’ve ever known.” Sheila grabbed a pair of sunglasses from deep inside her purse and proudly slid them on her face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

  She tightened her hand around the knob and slammed the door shut behind her.

  A fuming Nikki viciously chucked her opened purse against it and screamed out, “PENDEJA!” just as everything inside the purse scattered to the floor. She smacked her hands against her hips and harshly exhaled. “Bitch.” When she noticed her phone on the floor, she suddenly thought of the last time she spoke to Oscar and what he said about his wife’s refusal to sign the divorce papers. Then she rushed forward and snatched that phone up as fast as she could, and started dialing a number she forced herself to memorize long ago. One she never thought she would actually have to use, until now.

  It only rang once.

  “I know that this is probably earlier than you would’ve liked for me to call, if at all,” she said to the person on the other end, who had no chance to respond before answering. “But I really need to see you. It’s important.”

  After agreeing to meet with the person in Central Park in less than an hour, Nikki grabbed up every item she owned from the floor and scurried out the house.

  Part Seventeen

  Across town, a hangover-free Vanessa was on her way to work earlier than originally planned – with her purse and sketches for the new layout of the magazine in one hand and a bottle of orange juice in the other – in the hopes of getting her mind off of last night’s events, when she received a call from the last person she not only expected to hear from, but never wanted to hear from so damn early in the morning: Nathan.

  After reluctantly taking the call, he told her that despite being given the chance by the police just a few hours before to bail himself out of jail, he had no way of doing so because he had apparently lost his wallet at some point, either on the way to her house or during the actual scuffle. And he had no plans to let his parents or anyone else know his current whereabouts – especially Sheila – therefore, he had no one else to help get him out.

  Exasperated, she threw her purse and sketches to the ground and grabbed her head, which started throbbing hard against her skull the moment she realized he called her as his only hope. “Shit.”

  “Sorry V,” he said, though she was certain that he wasn’t sorry at all. “But it’s not like I had a lot of other options here.”

  “What the hell do you expect me to do for you, Nathan?”

  “Find my wallet,” he said. “Or at least come down here and bail me out yourself.”

  “Why the hell would I waste time in bailing you out when I’m the one who put you there in the first place? And for a damn good reason.”

  “Because you regret doing it,” he replied. “It might’ve been for a damn good reason last night, but it’s not anymore. Besides, Sheila’s probably worried about me by now. You know that I haven’t seen or spoken to her since--”

  “You left, yeah, so you said last night.”

  “Yeah. And I need to get back to her to straighten some things out.”

  “Nathan, do you honestly think after leaving her high and dry to troll the city like some migrant with no home, that she’s gonna give a single ounce of a damn about seeing you now? Staying in there would actually be your best bet!”

  “V!” he hollered. She pulled the phone back as his voice boomed inside her ear. “I’m not spending another night inside this hell hole.”

  As he continued babbling on about feeling paranoid in being locked up too long inside a box by himself, Vanessa stuffed her sketches beneath her arm and reached deep into her purse to yank out his wallet. She looked at it for a few minutes, ran her fingers back and forth across those embroidered letters and peeked inside of it just to see how much cash he was actually working with.

  “A few grand,” she mumbled to herself. “Hm.”

  She wondered while staring down at the various hundred dollar bills filling up each slot if taking that wallet down to him would actually be a better idea than the one she originally had of tossing it into the Hudson.

  When he wouldn’t stop talking about himself and whatever lie he had planned to tell Sheila and his boss, Mr. Gallagher, about his face once he got out, she finally interrupted out of pure frustration and annoyance, and told him that she would be down there later in the evening to bring him the wallet. She had no time that morning to listen to any more of what he had to say, nor did she have any desire to see him roaming the streets so early in the day before she was ready. And contrary to his own belief, aside from making sure that he wasn’t suffering from some kind of concussion due to all the blows he took to the head the night before, he wasn’t truly that much of her concern.

  She did however keep her ongoing concern about Maurice and his well-being. But when she tried to slip in a quick question about him, Nathan mumbled something to himself that she couldn’t quite understand and quickly hung up the phone. Actually, he slammed the phone down a few times on a desk first, which sent a hard drumming sound through the speaker.

  “Asshole,” Vanessa muttered while tossing her cell back inside her purse. She stuck her finger deep inside her ear and wiggled it around to get rid of the harsh ringing sound that seemed to be traveling up toward her brain. Then she threw her hair behind her and glanced to the right, and noticed a trashcan just a few feet away from another building.

  Clutching that wallet between her forefinger and thumb, she looked down at it, then over at the trashcan a few times before walking over and hovering that square piece of leather just a few inches over the edge.

  And she contemplated.

  Would he really miss this? How much would it actually hurt to leave him in there for just one more day, and maybe even another after that to get my entire point across to him?

  She was certain that just one night behind bars while being forced to sleep on a dirty cot and think about the shit he continued to pull since being back in the city was barely enough to do any real damage or jolt him back to the reality of every situation surrounding him. She was right when she told Sheila that she didn’t have that black magic to fix him. And it was clear after their conversation that he had no plans to fix himself either.

  So it was decided. She was going to toss the wallet into the trash where she felt it belonged amongst the rest of the garbage since she couldn’t seem to toss him in there instead like she wanted.

  But first…

  Maybe I should take out the money and give it to someone who really needs it.

  She dug around for the bills and stuffed them inside her purse near the sketches. Then she raised it over the can again. After a deep breath and inhaling the fumes of funk, she thought even further.

  Maybe I should swipe his ID too. And the credit cards in case somebody tries to steal his shit. He’s an asshole, but he doesn’t really deserve that, does he? But isn’t that what I want to happen so that he learns a lesson in how to treat people? Shouldn’t I let that happen so that he realizes that he can’t go around acting like an asshole to just any and every one he comes across? Especially the very people he claims to care about? It’d serve him right. Right?

  When she realized she was thinking too damn hard about how actually dumping the wallet and everything left inside of it would affect him more than not, she stopped and took a few steps back to regather herself.

  Then asked aloud, “What the fuck am I doing?”

  It was in that very moment that she was starting to wonder if she was actually losing her mind, or had already lost it somewhere between home and the office over a month ago – around the same time she and Maurice had in fact decided to take a break, or call it quits. She wasn’t even exactly sure what it all meant between them anymore – especially after last night –if she ever was, since what happened
was so unconventional and abrupt.

  After dropping Nathan’s wallet and remaining contents of it back into her purse, and shaking every thought of them from her head, she drew in a quick breath, blew it out harshly and headed for the office.

  But while crossing the street and looking both ways, she saw a man standing in front of a new pop-up produce market located directly at the corner near the old newsstand. He was drinking back a cup of coffee and irritably checking his watch as if he was waiting for someone to show; or waiting to get the hell out of dodge in case they did at any moment.

  Vanessa only caught a glimpse of his profile, but his height and stature, not to mention his hair and entire wardrobe, looked oddly familiar to her.

  Almost too familiar.

  As she ducked her head and squint, she raised a hand over her brows to get a better look at him without the glare of the sun. “Mo?” she called out. But when he didn’t completely turn around in the direction of her voice, she thought it might have just been wishful thinking on her end, or at the very least that her eyes were playing a cruel joke on her already warped as hell mind.

  When a cabbie honked at her in the street, gesturing for her to move out of the line of traffic, she gave him a quick wave which slyly turned into flashing her middle finger, and hopped to the sidewalk. Figuring she was mistaken about the man, she continued toward the office building. But when he finally spun on his heels, turning back at the sound of a woman who hollered in agony after nearly falling out of her cab, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  It was him, alright – the love of her life, bruises and all, just as she had initially suspected.

  Her breath became shaky with every inhale and exhale through her nose and out between her lips. All she wanted was to be back in his space right then, holding, kissing, touching, feeling, caressing, comforting.

  But then she started to wonder while gazing and daydreaming when and how the hell he had managed to bail himself out of jail. And why didn’t he contact her the minute he got out? Part of her couldn’t help but assume that he might have still been pissed about what she did in having him locked up in the first place. Even if he deserved it as much as Nathan, she didn’t plan on him staying in there for too long and would’ve gotten him out herself had it come down to it.