by Kiki Leach
But eventually, a few days would pass and one would mention something to the other about a movie or new restaurant they wanted to try, and the talking and laughing would begin again as if nothing had even occurred. Nikki was becoming tired of the cycle and knew their relationship was developing into an unhealthy pattern due to the constant arguing over something she felt was none of Vanessa’s business to begin with, concerned friend or not. At the same time, she didn’t have much of a choice in hearing what Vanessa had to say day in and day out, even if she didn’t like it, unless she had planned to get her own place. And considering she had less money in the bank than she began with that week, finding a new place to live in Manhattan was no easy task – that was unless she chose to live in Central Park.
Until this afternoon, Nikki had managed to erase all of that from her mind. She and Vanessa had found a way to be civil to one another over the last few days by choosing not to talk about William and his effect on their relationship, and she relished in the softer moments they shared. It wasn’t until Sheila called her a prostitute that the anger she felt came flooding back. She was also starting to question her own motivations. If someone like Sheila of all people was seeing her as nothing more than a ‘showpiece’ on the arm of a man and nothing more, it was possible that there was something to it all that she was refusing to grasp. But she wasn’t willing to accept that idea. At least not yet.
She lay her head back on the couch and closed her eyes for just a few seconds. That was all the time she would have before Maurice stepped into the room and cleared his throat. She opened one eye, then the other and noticed him looking around at her bags.
He whistled when he noticed the names on each one. “Dior. Tiffany’s. Bloomindales. Victoria’s Secret. Did I walk into my house, or Saks Fifth Avenue?” he asked.
She took a quick swig of beer and pulled the bottle back from her lips, sneering. “Shut up, Maurice.”
“That sounds a lot sexier coming from Vanessa than it ever will coming from you. Just FYI.”
“Gracias.”
“Sure.” He tossed his keys on the table and lay his jacket on the arm of a chair on the other side. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and rested his hands on either side of his waist, shrugging his shoulders. “What the hell is all this shit?”
“I went shopping. I felt like mierda and wanted to feel something else.” With beer bottle in hand, she waved it across the room. “And this is the end result.”
“Whose credit card did you use to buy all of this crap?”
She took another swig of beer, then sat the bottle in her lap. “Mine…” She waited until a beat passed. “And William’s. And it isn’t crap. Not all of it.”
“Does he know you practically wiped him out?”
“I didn’t practically wipe him out. I maxed out my card, but not his. And I only bought the things I needed.”
“And some you didn’t.” He stuck his hand down inside one of the bags and pulled out a leopard printed bra. He read the labeling and curved his lips up into a mischievous grin. “40D? A little idealistic, don’t you think?”
She leapt forward and snatched the bra from him as he laughed. “Esto es exactamente por qué Vanessa no dormir contigo.”
He immediately stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you stick to what you know, because you don’t know anything about that, alright?”
“I know that you two haven’t spent much time together in the same bed since this whole thing started; ironic since I often found her lying next to you when she was still lánguido for Nathan. What’s funny to me is that when you DO find the time, it’s not because you’re having sex. She falls asleep before the lights are out while you're reading a book. You’re like dos ancianos casados before the actual engagement, wedding and promise of a long and happy life together.” She drank more of her beer.
“Vanessa may never tell you this because she respects you, but I will because I don’t always feel the same way. We’ve nearly made love all over every surface of this house, including the very surface you’re sitting on.” He pointed. She flipped her mouth downward and turned her head just an inch to look behind her. “But when you manage to piss her off or I get called into work, or she gets called back to the office by her mother for some last minute changes to the magazine, neither one of us is in the mood to do anything except for sleep. But that’s the cost of being in a relationship with someone who’s passionate about how she feels, and with actual ambition to do more with her life than mooch off of others.” He looked away from her and shook his head. The words hit Nikki hard, but she was determined to keep him from realizing just how much. “What the hell made you buy all of this shit anyway?”
She shook out her hair as a way of shaking her emotions and pushed the strands behind her. “I needed new clothes. And bras and panties--”
“You work inside of a coffee shop,” he said. “No one aside from William is going to see you in anything more than that apron.”
“I needed new clothes for going out, and for some auditions. People won’t hire someone who looks like they can’t even afford to shop at an outlet. Unless the role calls for someone who lives underneath a bridge.”
“You should fit any part that calls for someone like that perfectly.”
“Cierra la boca, Maurice,” she shot back.
“No. How long have you had this guy’s card burning a hole inside your pocket?”
She looked up at him and tilted her head, recalling similar words from Sheila earlier. “What did you just say to me?”
“How long. Have you had. This guy’s card. Burning a hole. Inside your pocket?”
“You’re really great at being a smartass.”
“I’ve been told by many. But it still doesn’t answer my question,” he replied.
“He gave me the card a few days ago and I’m just now getting around to using it.”
“Why?”
“Is this fifty questions?”
He backed away, raising his hands. “No need for you to get defensive.”
“I’m just so sick and tired of hearing this shit. First Vanessa rides my case about it, then Sheila gets in my face over it, and now you.”
“I’m not getting in your face about anything. If you want to know the truth, I actually don’t care.”
She nodded at him while jeering. “That’s why you’re being such a dick about it, because you don’t care.”
“I’ve been a lot worse, and no, I don’t. I just wanted to know why the hell I was tripping over bags in the hallway, and the living room looked like a department store when I walked in. And where’d you see Sheila?”
“I went to the Bodega Spa in SoHo and just as I’m leaving, there she was. She started questioning me about how I was able to pay for everything and I snapped at her. It’s not as if she has any room to talk – she’s been living off of her parent’s and then Nathan since high school!”
“You’re right,” he said. “But you have to wonder if she has a point since she might know what she’s talking about.”
“If Vanessa heard you say that about her ‘enemiga’, she’d probably slap the taste out of your mouth.”
“We’re not talking about Vanessa. This is about the fact that no matter what, you’ll always be a freeloader. From one guy to the next, it doesn’t matter. For the rest of your life, you’ll more than likely be the woman who’s writing checks in someone else’s name.”
“I’m not discussing this with you again. We’ve been there, done that, and I don’t want to go back.”
“Then maybe you should’ve picked up your shit from the hallway and carried it off to the bedroom before I was able to see it.”
“I have been paying my rent!” she hollered, arms wide, eyes darting wildly. “Isn’t that enough for you?”
“You’ve been paying with William’s money, just like Oscar’s before him. Look, if some of the guys you meet are stupid enough to give you money with nothing promised in return, then by all
means, keep at it because at least Vanessa and I aren’t the only two carrying the financial burden around here. But just own it. Admit that this is who you are.”
“Who I am?” She jumped up. “This is who you are, a man stuck in love with a woman who is never going to love him back in the way that he wants. I don’t care what I’ve said before about her needing space, it’s all bullshit now.”
“It’s bullshit because you don’t like what I have to say.”
“It’s bullshit because it’s bullshit. You’ve pined for her since we were kids and she STILL hasn’t given in even after all this time of you being ‘juntos’. You can use whatever excuses you want about work and being tired, but the truth is that if she wanted to make it happen with you in the bedroom, she’d find a way because she always does once she’s committed. You know that. In fact, why don’t you go and ask Nathan about it?”
He adjusted his pants, pulling them higher around his waist as his aggravation with her had increased within just a matter of seconds. “Sure, I’ll ask him. Right after I ask you what it’s like holding that card from one guy while the one you’re still in love with is probably boning his wife in the back office of his coffee shop right about now.”
She lifted a hand and struck him hard across the face. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at him, and she dropped back down to the edge of the couch, placing her elbow on her knee and grabbing her head as she rattled her leg. She felt shameful, more for what he had said rather than what she had done to him. She drank the rest of her beer and clanked the bottle down on the table.
Maurice grabbed his face and circled his fingers around his jaw. Things were already tense between Nikki and Vanessa; he hadn’t wanted to add to it by continuing to voice his negative opinion on her constant scrounging, but it seemed his frustration had hit a boiling point the moment Nikki pointed out how much sex with Vanessa he hadn’t been having. He watched as she wiped her face and gave her a tissue from his pocket. She snatched it from his hands to dab her eyes and the end of her nose.
“Guess you slapped the taste out of my mouth instead.” He grabbed his jaw again. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have said it like that.”
“You aren’t sorry, Maurice, you never are. Because you always mean what you say the first time it comes out. That’s why I hate talking to you sometimes, especially about things like this.”
“Because I tell the truth?”
“You don’t always have to tell what you perceive to be the truth. Sometimes people need a little encouragement and that means not always telling them what they need to hear, but telling them what they WANT to hear.”
“I don’t operate like that, Nik. You need to grow up.”
“I am grown up.” She crossed her arms and lifted her feet, resting them on the end of the table, and thinking. “I don’t want to sound like some spoiled bitch who isn’t grateful for what she’s been given by anyone.”
“Then maybe you should stop saying some of the things you say.”
“You aren’t perfect either,” she snapped.
“I never presented myself to be perfect. I’m just honest about who I am and what I’ve always wanted. I’m someone who likes walking around naked sometimes and I like sex. Maybe you should try admitting your own truth. Like for starters, you like being taken care of. You might not have been partial to what Sheila had to say, but she wasn’t being dishonest for once if that’s what she told you. Vanessa lets you get away with a lot of shit around here to avoid the constant fighting, but if I were solely paying for things in this place, I’d have kicked your ass out before you managed to bring in your first suitcase. Instead of sulking over Sheila, think about what she said and why she said it.”
“I don’t understand why the sulking is such a big deal to you. Vanessa’s done it for years. What difference does it make if I do it now too?”
“Vanessa had a legitimate reason to feel the way she did about her,” he said. “I admit that it all went on a little too long for everybody involved, but the reason was legitimate. She said a few nasty things about you now, so what? You like getting paid without having to work for it. Accept it. Otherwise, you’re never going to change and this conversation will continue happening with different people for the rest of your life.”
She became sullen and dropped down even lower on the couch. When she heard her phone buzzing, she leaned over for her bag and began searching around inside of it. Once she recognized the name and number flashing across the screen, she leaned back and sighed. “It’s V.” She placed the phone beside her and scrunched her nose.
Maurice waved his hand. “You’re not going to bother answering it?”
“I’m not really in the mood to talk to her right now after dealing with you. I’m meeting William in a few hours. Luckily his daughter is out of town with his ex-wife for the next few days and I need to start getting ready and stop feeling so pissed off. I don’t think talking to V will be any sort of improvement in that.” She picked up the phone and tossed it to him. “You love her so much, you talk to her.” She grabbed her bags from the table and headed upstairs to her bedroom.
Maurice watched her for a few seconds before pushing the button and answering. “Hey,” he said in a cool voice.
Vanessa, being chauffeured to Queens by her mother’s personal driver, pulled the phone back to make sure she had dialed the right number. “Um, hey. Why the hell are you answering Nikki’s phone? Is she incapacitated?”
He laughed. “No. She just doesn’t seem to be in a very good mood right now. I came home from work and found all kinds of shopping bags laying around in the living room.”
“Nikki went shopping? That doesn’t sound anything like her, unless she was shopping for scripts. How did you manage to get her phone?”
“She tossed it to me before heading upstairs.”
“Oh.” She adjusted in her seat and looked to the floor of the car. “Well, Sheila called me again before I left work, something about Nikki this time, but she was never clear on what she wanted to tell me.”
He headed for the kitchen and plucked the last beer from the fridge, popping the cap with his teeth. “Nikki mentioned seeing Sheila at the Bodega Spa earlier. Think that might have something to do with it?”
“Maybe, but why the hell would them running into each other prompt Sheila to call me? It’s not like them seeing each other without either one of us there to intercede wasn’t a possibility.” She placed her hand on her head. “Whatever, I don’t care. At least Nikki’s safe. Sheila had me thinking something awful had happened.”
“Are you on your way home now?” he questioned.
She looked up in the rearview mirror at her driver who was staring back at her. “No, I have something I need to take care of before I can come home.”
He became worried. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve just got a meeting with someone in Queens. It shouldn’t take long, but it’s something that I’ve been meaning to do for a while now, and I can’t put it off anymore.”
“Is it something serious?”
“Yes and no. Yes because of the person I’m dealing with, no because of the situation, if that makes sense.”
“It doesn’t, but hopefully you can explain it more when you get home.”
“Yeah… Anyway, I just wanted to call Nikki to make sure she was okay. Will you still be up by the time I get there?”
“I’ve got to finish up a few ads for tomorrow, so I’ll be awake.” He furrowed his brows. “Take care while you’re out there. I haven’t been to Queens in a while, but--”
“I’ll be fine, Mo. And I’ll see you later tonight.” She hung up.
He looked at the phone as it went silent and placed it on the table. Curiosity got the best of him for a minute as he wondered who and what Vanessa could possibly be going to see outside of the city limits. But he knew that if it was important or dire enough, she would tell him about it. He had no doubt in his mind that she would.
Part Eight
Sheila stood in front of her bathroom mirror plugging two bright diamond studs into her ears; she chose to wear them because they matched the peach in her body hugging Burberry dress. After turning around to check out her perfectly round ass, making sure it looked as tight as it felt, she raced into the living room and grabbed her Prada shoes, slowly slipping on each one so as not to scuff any part of the authentic leather heel. She looked up at the clock on her nightstand and winced when she realized it was after 7pm.
“Damn,” she murmured. She was supposed to meet Melanie in less than an hour and at the new ‘IT’ place in the city, Bar Nineteen, which was about two hours away from the hotel in heavy traffic. She grabbed her brush from across the room and frantically combed through her freshly permed hair. Once finished, she pulled her makeup mirror from her purse and began applying her favorite red apple lipstick. But as she parted her lips to line the inside and looked at her teeth, she remembered that in all the fuss, she had forgotten to brush and floss them. “UGH!” She dropped her lipstick and mirror without thinking to close either one, and ran back to the bathroom.
Normally, she wouldn’t be too nervous in meeting up with another woman for drinks as it wasn’t really her style to care what other women thought of her, unless the woman in question was Vanessa. But this was someone just as important, if not more so; someone who could keep her in the public eye, while also getting her back into good graces with her former best friend. This was someone that she was determined to impress and possibly become actual friends with herself since she lacked so many. Making a good impression upon their second meeting tonight was crucial.
She poked her head out of the bathroom to check the clock again. The more the minutes kept ticking by, the more restless she became. When she heard the door clicking open and then shut, she spit out the toothpaste and rinsed out her mouth as fast as she could with the hotel’s mouthwash.