by Kiki Leach
“Just that you weren’t a fit for the magazine.”
“Then you told her what I wanted?”
“I said you were interested in writing about the wedding and maybe our lives after. I think that’s one of the biggest reasons she didn’t go for it.”
“Damn it, Nathan,” she said so low he could barely hear. Remaining calm and collected was becoming more and more difficult by the second. “This is why I wanted to talk to her about it myself. There’s so much more to it than that. And there was no way in hell she was going to let me write anything for her when it came from you first or at all.”
“You asked me to help you with her before and I thought--”
“You should’ve thought before going to see her,” she interjected. “I asked you to help me with her before because I knew it worked, but there was a specific reason I didn’t ask for it now and you should’ve known what it was.” She stared down at the sparkle on her painted toes and tried to keep from snapping like a twig in public. “What else did she say?”
“Nothing else, but--”
“But?”
He waited for a few moments and shook his head. “Nothing. I’ve got to get Mr. Gallagher his food and head back to the office.” He looked down either side of the street again before crossing it. “I’ll see you later tonight and we can finish discussing this then.”
“Nathan, I’m--” she started. He clicked the red button on his phone and placed it back into his pocket without giving her reaction a second thought.
She angrily threw her phone back into her purse and drank the remainder of her chardonnay, furious that they had landed directly back at square one. She was so sure after the constant lovemaking and his change of heart that he had finally managed to get Vanessa out of his system. But the first chance he had to go and see her again since the restaurant opening, on her behalf no less – or so he claimed – he took it without hesitation or instruction to do so. That infuriated her even more.
She reached for the back of the wrap that had been tied around her head to keep her hair in place and sat it in her lap. She shook her hair out and leaned back without reclining, closing her eyes for just a moment and wondering when, if ever she was going to become a real priority in his life. But she couldn’t concentrate on her thoughts for too long after hearing a familiar voice coming from across the spa. She scrunched her face and lifted her head, then sat up straight when she saw that the woman on the other side was Nikki. “What in the fresh hell is she doing up in here today? Or any day for that matter?” She looked closer and saw her newly manicured nails reaching for something in her back pocket. Once she pulled it out, Sheila got a good look at the Black American Express card as Nikki placed it on top of the counter. Her mouth dropped and she quickly swung her legs to the side, slipping on her cloth covered flips flops as she stood. She smiled at the people she moved passed and tightened the rope around her waist while moving closer and closer.
Nikki rested an arm on the counter as the woman sitting behind it began dialing a number to make sure that the card she was using was in fact authorized by the name on front. She pressed her finger against her cheek and turned a little to see Sheila racing toward her like a raging bull. “Mierda,” she muttered.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Nicole Sanger once again.” Sheila eyed her up and down, admiring the tight jeans and red tank with matching Manolo sandals. It was an outfit she wasn’t known for wearing so early in the day. “You’re in from the streets a lot sooner than I expected. Or is this late for you? I can’t keep up with your schedule anymore, what with planning the wedding of my dreams and everything – it’s taken up so much of my time. But seriously, has your schedule changed that much since high school?”
She grinned and diverted her eyes. “I’m not going to do this with you today, puta. I’m in too good of a mood to let you of all people bring me down with such bitchy comments about my life.” The woman handed the card back over to Nikki and placed the receipt on the counter for her to sign.
Sheila glanced down at the total near the bottom and bugged her eyes. “Wow. Waxing, a facial, mani and pedicure,” she said. “From where I stand, it looks like it was all needed. How much did you make from your latest john to be able to afford all of this? Or am I completely off base here and you finally found a man willing to pay not just for you, but for all of your bills while living at Vanessa’s too? Like the man I saw you with at the restaurant opening. It was only a glimpse in passing, but he looked like such a delicious piece of chocolate that was waiting all night to melt in your mouth, and not your hand.” She snickered.
Nikki clucked her tongue and quickly signed the receipt. She handed it over to the woman, then snatched the copy and tapped her fingers at the edge of the counter. “If you’re interested in catering to people like this, I no longer want any part of Bodega’s services. Count me as your first of many dissatisfied customers.” She stuffed the copy into her bright red Michael Kors bag and turned toward the door. Sheila slid in front to block her exit. “I don’t have time for this right now.”
“Late to another meeting in Central Park? I just want a little chit chat before you go, Nicole. We haven’t really spoken much, save for the back and forth that night, and I’m interested in knowing how you’ve been,” she said. Nikki lifted the strap of her bag on her arm and rolled her eyes. Sheila noticed the tag had yet to be removed, but didn’t say a word. “I didn’t catch the man’s name that you were with.”
“That’s because I didn’t throw it to you, bitch.”
“Ouch.” She curved her lips up into a deceitful grin. “Relax. There’s no need to get nasty, here, Nik. You don’t want to tell me his name, that’s fine. I’ll just call him ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for now. Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty fine man. It’s a wonder women aren’t just crawling all over him. But maybe they do when you’re not around.” Nikki grinded her teeth. “Is he the one that’s been paying for all of this here?” Sheila opened her hands to indicate the entire outfit, and then some. “Does he own the card that’s burning such a deep hole inside your back pocket? If so, he sure as hell ain’t getting nothing for his something’s.”
Nikki chuckled and turned her head. “I’ve always thought it was so funny that you only ever seemed to be observant of the things that never applied to you, even now.”
“I’m observant of every little detail in my life, trust that. But this is about you, and I’m just dying to know what you and this man are all about.”
“What the hell business of it is yours?”
“None, but it might become Vanessa’s once she realizes that you’re being spoiled by a man old enough to be your daddy. Fine as he may be, I’m certain I saw a few grey hairs poking out from some place on his head. How much sugar is he providing you to keep this thing going?”
She nodded and crossed her arms. “I see it so clearly now. This is about trying to get back into Vanessa’s good graces, thinking that if you can smear me in some way, she’ll go running back to you for a friendship. For your information, she knows all about my relationship with William, that’s his name, and she’s still my girl. But even if she didn’t, no matter what you were to ever try and tell her about me, she will never come crawling back to you after all the shit you’ve pulled over the years and even now. Sigue intentando y fallando, como siempre haces.” She zipped around her and placed her hands on the arm of the door, gently pushing it out.
“All of that may be true, even the little bit I didn’t fully understand. But at least I don’t have someone different every month paying my way through life like a high dollar prostitute.” Sheila spun around to face her and craned her neck. “Or in your case, that would be any dollar given, am I right?”
Nikki stopped and turned back. “You don’t have to be a high, or low dollar prostitute, Sheila. Everyone already knows that you have given it away for free for the last five years to a man who doesn’t even want, or need you in his life. You’re temporary at best, c
ompany so that he doesn’t have to spend the rest of his life alone pajas” – she shook her fist up and down against herself – “into a cup that sits beside his bed, and you already know it. But you’ll keep doing what you’ve always done to keep him around until he finally decides he doesn’t need you anymore. Changing the date of the wedding won’t change how he feels about you and I think you know that too. But keep working for that brass ring. What is it that you always used to say? Nobody’s mad at ‘cha for it, am I right?” She lowered her sunglasses to her face and violently shoved her way out of the spa. Sheila could barely bring herself to watch her exit because she was too busy thinking about the words that had been said, lamenting at how true they were.
As she headed back over to her chair, trying to hide her face in shame and embarrassment, a woman dressed in a bright pink robe came up behind and tapped her on the shoulder. Sheila whirled around, eyeing her with caution. The woman tossed her blond hair over her shoulder and grinned wide. “Hi,” she began as she held out her hand. “This is going to sound so strange, but aren’t you Sheila Harris?” Sheila gradually nodded. “I thought you looked familiar from where I sat – I’m Melanie Malone. I’ve seen you hanging around the coffee shop from time to time that my husband owns, The Bean, and I saw your picture on the cover of a few newspapers a few weeks ago.” Sheila shook her hand but remained guarded. “I just saw you talking to Nicole Sanger? She works for us as a barista.”
“I’ve heard.”
“I was wondering, are you two friends?”
She burst into a fit of laughter. “No, not even close. What about the two of you?”
“Not at all. But you seem like a pretty put together person.”
“Thank you, but aside from the wardrobe, plenty of people would beg to differ.”
“I wouldn’t,” she told her. “I don’t have many girlfriends out here, seeing as I haven’t been back to the city all that long. And I love my husband, but I’m looking for more female interaction. I saw you two over here talking and thought I’d take a chance. It’s so tough making friends who are women anywhere you go because no one ever seems genuine enough. But I get the strange feeling that you do for some reason – that you are. Maybe we could get to know each other a little better?”
Sheila stepped back to get an even better look at Melanie’s face. As she stared, a lightbulb went off almost immediately above her head. “Aren’t you the same woman who was on the cover of Attitude just recently?”
Melanie raised her hand and looked around the room. “That was me, yes.”
“Are you close friends with Vanessa?”
“Close friends, no. She’s not too thrilled with me right now since I’ve decided to stay in town because it screws up her plans to put me on another cover. But we’re friendly and speak politely in passing.” She paused for a moment and sucked in air, her eyes roaming Sheila’s physique. “I’d ask the same about you two, but--”
“It wouldn’t be true. The papers were pretty much a dead giveaway as to what our relationship is like now,” she said. Melanie smiled but didn’t respond. Sheila continued staring at her, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious as she wondered if she could use this woman to some advantage. She had little idea that Melanie could possibly be doing the same. “If you’re really interested in getting to know me, I don’t have any plans for tonight. I’ve been busy with my wedding for the last few weeks, but could use a night off to do other things that will take my mind off of it for a little while.”
“I’ve heard about your wedding to Nathaniel Taylor. Maybe if we become close enough, I can score an invitation to it.”
“If we become close enough, you might actually have a shot at being my maid of honor and maybe even my only guest. I don’t have many female friends myself – which might be kind of obvious – and the ones I did manage to gain while I was living out in California can’t seem to make it since we’ve changed the date and location.” She grinned. “I’m starting to think you might have come into my life at the perfect time.”
“That’s funny,” said Melanie with a slight laugh. “Because I was just thinking the exact same thing.”
They headed back into the spa, staring with curiousness in an attempt to hide their own doubts about the other.
Part Four
As the second to last meeting of the day began winding down at the magazine, Alexis’ employees gathered their things from the table in the conference room, anxious to get back to work and finish out the remainder of the day. She clapped her hands like a school teacher to stop and regain their attention.
“Before you all run out of here, I have an announcement to make. Though the magazine continues to do well in various markets by outselling the competition, there is no reason we can’t do much better than before. So to help us keep on track for the future, I have hired an editorial consultant. He’ll officially be starting next week, but I’d like you all to meet with him today so that he can get a feel as to what we’re all about here at Attitude.” Her eyes darted to the back of the room where Vanessa sat before she went over to the door and waved her hand outside. A handsome man just a little over six and a half feet tall with shades of white poking through strands of his naturally brown hair stepped in. “Everyone” – she latched onto his arm and brought him to the center of the room; his bright green eyes searched for a familiar face – “this is Mr. Harold Kramer.”
Vanessa recognized him almost immediately and choked on her tongue. She sunk down in her chair like a child waiting to be scolded. “Oh my God,” she muttered, placing a hand above her brows to cover her eyes. Her heartrate increased, her head pounded against the tips of her fingers. Her stomach flip flopped and she felt like jumping out of the window as it sat behind her. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” She balled her other hand into a fist and breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth to try and catch her breath.
Samantha picked up on her odd behavior and leaned in, whispering. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
She quickly shook her head. “Nothing, nothing. It’s just that I know this man, personally.” Samantha leaned back and twisted her face in confusion. “I didn’t sleep with him or anything, it’s just that… the guy that keeps calling here? The one from Queens? This is one of his closest friends.”
“Alright everyone,” Alexis continued, “as many of you may or may not know, Harold Kramer is infamous. He was a journalism professor at NYU for sixteen years and has been senior editor of the New York Daily News for the last five or six, at least until now.”
“Dear God, why hast thou forsaken me?!” Vanessa mumbled as Samantha looked over at her with concern.
“He is now here fulltime to help us figure out what changes we want and need to make for future publications. I’ve realized after seeing the numbers for the last issue that we need to learn what exactly has been working and what hasn’t for the upcoming season, which means eliminating the kinks that have come up overtime.” Everyone looked at one another and gulped in fear of their current positions. “Now, I don’t want anyone here to be worried as your Editor-In-Chief isn’t going anywhere anytime soon – at least as far as I know.” Vanessa peeked through her fingers, shooting visual daggers in her mother’s direction. “But Harold will be here five days a week to help her where it’s needed. More will be explained within the coming days and weeks as to what his position actually entails while he becomes more integrated into the company. But for now, I would like for all of you to get to know him on a more personal level and treat him with the utmost respect.” She turned to Harold and smiled. “Do you have anything you’d like to add?”
He eyed the room. “Just that I’m happy to be here working with all of you. I’ve admired this magazine and the contribution it’s made to history since its inception, and I’m looking forward to making some waves here with you all as a new member of this great team.”
“Fantastic! Why don’t you go around the room and introduce yourself to everyone. I’m sure there ar
e many people in here who have plenty of ideas that they would like to send your way. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She exited in haste.
He began showing his hand to those who willingly came up to him. Others kept their distance, not sure of what he was all about and unwilling to get to know him better, given what they had heard over the years; they smiled at him from across the room if only to be polite and returned to their desks.
Vanessa kept her head down the entire time and began rubbing her temples. Her pain had only increased and by then, she was about ready to stab herself with the nearest, sharpest object she could find. “This can’t be happening – why the hell is this happening?!”
“It may not be as bad as you think,” said Samantha.
“You always say that and it always ends up being worse.”
“What happened between you and that man in Queens? If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the big deal about seeing his friend?”
“I’m not only seeing him, Samantha, he is working here now. And the big deal is that I had sex with his friend who lives in Queen’s while he was my college professor. His name was Adrian and it was brief. There’s a lot more to it than that, but what I told you is the gist of the situation.”
“Oh.” She opened her eyes wide and glanced up at Harold as he continued making his way around the room. “Does this man know about it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve only ever told one person and despite what Adrian often said about keeping quiet, I could never be sure that he did, especially when it came to Harold – who he might’ve just paid to never say a word about it for my sake, considering his former position. They were close back then, but… who knows now.”
“Are you going to say anything to him now?”
“What can I say?”
“I’m not sure, but you might want to think of something fast because he’s on his way over here to talk to you.” She quickly stood and nervously tossed her hair over her shoulders.