by C. Michelle
Everyone agrees to meet at Dillon’s studio after my meeting. From there, we’ll head to Gary Danko’s, a restaurant in the Russian Hill district. We’re more than excited about today’s events. With my friends and family by my side, I know nothing could possibly go wrong.
We arrive at the Civic Center to hear various speakers. Pro-Choice and Pro-Life protestors are at the rally. There’s an estimated fifty thousand people in attendance. Belly dancers are to my right surrounded by a large crowd. As we begin the “Walk for Life” march down Market Street, I notice a man standing in front of a very large screen showing graphic pictures of aborted babies while he’s lecturing about his beliefs. Really? Although, I see his point, there are small children walking amongst the crowd, there’s no need for them to see that. I ignore him and keep walking. Something that also catches my attention is how Dillon and my mom haven’t stopped talking and laughing with each other. They seem to have hit it off as friends. I’m glad.
Once we complete the march, we congregate outside a coffee shop before we go back home to get ready. As a lady is exiting, she accidentally bumps into my mom. Right away, the lady apologizes without looking at her. Once the lady directs her gaze towards my mom, she has a shocked expression on her face.
I know this woman, but from where?
The woman’s skin is a pale tone. She has dirty blonde, shoulder length hair with several greys. Her deep blue eyes look tired and her face appears sucked in. She looks like someone whose drug of choice was meth some time in her past. The lady definitely looks familiar and the nagging feeling is only increasing.
“Oh, it’s just you.” The woman glares at my mom.
Just then, her face, her voice, and her evil stare register in my memory and I’m able to recall exactly who she is. Immediately, I turn my attention and concern towards Kade who has a disturbed look on his face.
Kade intervenes. “When you speak to Victoria Moretti, you do it with the upmost respect. Do you understand? I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you definitely need to learn some manners among other things.” Rage quickly overpowers Kade’s expression.
“Hello, Kade. I see you’re still with your disrespectful ways following the devil.” The lady responds.
“Mother dearest, I see you’re still a pretentious bitch putting up a façade for strangers.” Kade replies to his mom.
“Cindy, you have a son?” One of the women with Kade’s mom asks.
“Let’s go, ladies. There’s too much negativity and evil around here.” Cindy ignores the question, turns her back to her son, and begins to walk away.
Kade stops her and the group she’s with. “Not so fast. Ladies, you may not know this, but yes, I am this woman’s son.” Kade points at his mother. He directs his attention to the women Cindy is with. “I’m assuming you ladies are a part of her church group.” The ladies surrounding Cindy all nod. Their expressions clearly demonstrate discomfort.
Although Kade has a smirk on his face, hurt is evident in his beautiful baby blues, but he continues to speak. “Well, let me tell you a few things about this woman. She is a piece of shit mom who beat me, starved me, and not once showed me the slightest bit of affection. When I was small, she used to bring several men over to the house and the rest of the time, she used to leave me alone to care for myself. There was never any food in our apartment, but she always had money to spend on herself and on alcohol. My neighbors felt sorry for me, took turns feeding me, and gave me the clothes their kids outgrew. One of the Mexican ladies, who was a field worker and hardly had anything for herself or her kids, regularly brought me a plate of food for dinner. One day, my mother was on her way out as the lady was dropping off my food, my mother became upset, and threw the food on the ground threatening to call immigration if she got near me again. I was only six years old and starving. When my mother left, I scraped the food from the floor and ate it. We rarely had electricity since it used to get turned off regularly. She never cleaned and had me living in filth. I spent as much time as I could in the streets as I grew older, any place was better than being in my home with drunken men who tried molesting me when my mom was left unconscious.”
“That’s enough!” Cindy exclaims with tears running down her face. She attempts to walk away again, but Kade grabs her arm, and doesn’t let her go.
“Oh, I’m not done just yet.” Kade looks at her with disgust and continues to release his tormented memories. “Once I became older and met Valentina, her mom, Ms. Moretti took me in as her son. She fed me, bought me brand new clothes, and made sure I was well taken care of. One day, after I had dropped off pastries from Ms. Moretti’s bakery shop to my neighbors, my mom made me take her to Valentina’s house. My mom demanded a thousand dollars from Ms. Moretti if she wanted to keep me.” Kade pauses and wipes the tears from his eyes then points to his mother.
“This lady, my mother and I say the terms loosely, sold me for a mere thousand dollars. I never returned to her home again. Years later, I saw her as I was walking by a church with my first boyfriend, she was now a new woman completely involved with church, so she claimed. When I introduced her to my boyfriend, she said she would rather know I was dead than to know I was gay. So you see ladies, this woman who stands before you and preaches the word of God is a hypocritical, self-righteous, evil woman with absolutely no remorse for her actions. She stands in front of you crying out of humiliation, not from sorrow or regret.” Kade looks sternly at each member of his mother’s group. “I just thought you should know what type of evil you have amongst your group.”
“I found God. He has forgiven all my sins.” Cindy states in between sobs.
“News flash! God was never lost. He’s not going to forgive you when you continue to be evil and judge others! If you’re so changed and all about God, why haven’t you looked for me? I’m the one you beat, starved, mistreated, neglected, and put at risk of being molested from the countless men you used to bring over! Let’s not forget wishing death upon me for my sexual orientation. I’m supposed to forgive you too…not just God! Go ahead and continue acting self-righteous, you’re not fooling anyone when your heart is full of hatred. You despise anyone who isn’t white and curse gays. Do I need to remind you that Latinos and blacks fed your Irish little boy and gave me what little they had? It was a hell of a lot more than you ever gave me. Have some humility and accept your mistakes! I’m bisexual because I love people, I don’t have a preference for men or women, I love them both. Race is irrelevant. If I go to hell for having nothing but love in my heart, so be it.” Kade glares at Cindy with disgust.
“But, I can’t see you going to heaven for simply preferring dick.” Kade laces his last comment with venom.
Just then, my mom interrupts Kade’s rant. “Thank you, Cindy, for giving me the best son a mother could wish for. You not wanting to be a part of his life isn’t his loss. It’s yours. Kade has grown to be a wonderful human being, with a vibrant personality, an intelligent mind, a beautiful soul, and a heart of gold. Although you weren’t woman enough to raise him, love him, guide him, and support him, he has managed to be better off without you. The past several years, he has been surrounded by love every single day. So, I thank you for allowing me the privilege of raising Kade, my son.”
“He’s not your son.” Cindy responds.
My mom looks at her with pity. “Do you think that because you gave birth to him that makes you his mother? Do I need to remind you that you were never there for him or even provided his necessities? Were you there when he was sick? Did you feed him? Provide him shelter? Clothe him? Most important...love him? Were you there helping him with his homework, taking him to his computer science conventions throughout the state, or even cheering him on while he played sports? No, you weren’t because I was there every day caring for him, loving him, and ensuring him of his wonderful qualities. Any female can have kids, but it takes a real woman to raise them, love them, and make them a priority. We have all made mistakes, but you have never acknowledged yo
ur wrong doings, made any attempt at reestablishing a relationship with Kade, or even given him a simple apology. You’re a pathetic excuse for a woman. Go back to your church and continue to preach the word of God that you don’t even follow.”
“Let’s go.” I intervene quietly. This woman isn’t worth another second of our time. I grab Kade’s arm and pull him away from the small crowd that has formed around us, he and my mom have said enough. Kade walks away with his head held high no longer shedding any tears. He looks at me and wraps his arm around my shoulder as we’re leaving. “Why are you crying?” He asks with concern deep in his features.
“Because I hate to see you hurt.” Is all I can say between my sobs.
After taking a few steps, my mother abruptly stops. “Come here, my son.” She reaches out to Kade with open arms. “I’m so proud of you for standing up to her. Now, forget this situation happened and let go of any anger or resentment you have towards her. It’s not healthy to hold onto hate and negative feelings.”
“It’s forgotten.” Kade smiles lovingly at my mom and gives her a hug.
We walk back to the car in silence and I notice Emme and Kade holding hands. Elation consumes me knowing that Kade is surrounded by love and for the most part, has overcome the obstacles he was faced with as a child.
When we arrive to our vehicles, we agree to meet at Dillon’s studio. I’ll be taking a cab there, while Josh picks everyone else up. As I head home, exhaustion hits me. When I enter my house, I decide to watch a movie to relax, once it begins to play, I fall asleep.
I wake up in a panic. I’m sweaty and my breathing is accelerated, I simply recall the barrel of a gun pointed at me. I don’t understand why I arouse in such a fright, maybe I shouldn’t have fallen asleep while watching the movie, Carlito’s Way. I realize I overslept. I quickly jump in the shower and begin to get ready.
This evening, I’m wearing a white, retro cap-sleeved dress that goes slightly above my knee with a woven lining and a sheer overlay. My bright lips coordinate with the hot pink stilettos I’m wearing and the matching colored flower above my styled side bun. When I put on my black coat, instantly, I recall being completely naked underneath it and surprising Josh. The way his eyes gazed hungrily at me that night makes me crave him desperately. Oh, how I miss his touch and having his face buried between my legs. Nina! Snap out of it, girl! You need to focus on business right now! You’re going to be late!
I rush out of my room to find Josh, Celeste, Emme, Kade, and my mom all dressed up waiting for me in the living room. “Hey, you’re early and you all look amazing.” I observe.
I take a good look at Josh and notice he’s wearing a three piece dark grey suit with a black shirt underneath along with a silk, grey tie. He has no stubble, just shaved and immediately, I fantasize to run my lips along his jaw. He looks sophisticated and absolutely delicious. Right away, the song, “Suit and Tie” by J.T. comes to mind. A long sigh escapes me. I can’t help it, Josh looks dreamy, definitely too good to be true.
“Yeah and you look hot as always, but you’re late. We’re taking separate vehicles, the moms will ride together in a different car per their request and the rest of us will go with Josh in his Range Rover. While you’re in the meeting with Dillon, we’ll be waiting for you across the street at the Japanese Steakhouse drinking sakes until Dillon can give us a tour of his studio.” Kade sounds pleased with his agenda.
“You’re finally taking out your date car?” I ask Josh teasingly.
“Yeah, it only collects dust in my garage. I decided to take it out for once and I’ll have to admit, I prefer driving my truck.” Josh shrugs as he declares his preference for his big truck with its roaring engine over his luxury SUV.
“Sounds good to me. Let’s go.” Before I leave the house, I pick up my clutch purse and portfolio. Just then, Josh grabs my arm.
“You look stunning.” Josh tells me with admiration in his eyes. “Can I ask you for a favor?”
“Sure.” I respond curiously.
“Will you please allow me to explain what happened with Nicole? I know you don’t want me bringing it up, but it’s been several weeks and I need to explain. I know this isn’t the right time, but will you hear me out tonight after dinner?” He desperately pleads.
“I’m sorry, but that’s behind me. I don’t want to take steps backwards. I’m late; let’s just drop that topic once and for all.” I grab his hand and squeeze it, hoping he’ll understand that no reason he gives me will justify his actions.
“Fine. I’ll let it go for right now, but you will hear me out soon enough.” He holds onto my hand and leads us out of my house.
We arrive at Dillon’s studio, a three story red brick building. The outside sign reads, “Hampton – Fine Arts Gallery – American and International Paintings, Prints, and Sculptures.” Josh drops me off. Everyone will be waiting for me at the Japanese Steakhouse to finish with my meeting and for Dillon to provide them with a personal tour of his gallery. I enter the building, at once, I’m astonished. Although I’ve worked with Dillon a few times, I’ve never been to his workshop. Inside is a high end galleria of art and here, I assumed it was just a typical print studio. As I enter, I observe the sculptures spread out in the middle of the first floor. Throughout the first two stories, I notice the walls are mounted with paintings in categories of Old and Modern Masters, Barbizon Painters, Impressionists, Artists of La Belle Époque and Contemporary. The salesman is locking up and informs me Dillon will be with me soon. I continue to browse.
Shortly after, I hear Dillon’s voice behind me. “Nina, I apologize for the delay. Thank you so much for being here this evening. Our client is expecting us on the third floor, please follow me.”
I give Dillon a small hug and allow him to lead the way. While I had been observing his gallery, I noticed a staircase towards the entrance and back of the gallery. We don’t go towards either direction; instead, Dillon walks me to the elevator that is located in the center of the right wall. When we arrive to the third story, I realize it’s specifically for his print collection. The photos of nature and the aftermath effects of natural disasters are breathtaking. Instantly, I wonder why he wastes his time taking pictures of me with cars when clearly he has such an artistic talent.
Dillon leads the way to his conference room. A man in a suit is standing right by the door. When we enter, the client is sitting at the head of the table, two other men are standing on opposite ends of the room, all men remind me of the secret service for some reason. When the client sees us entering, he stands to greet me.
“Hello, Miss Moretti, a pleasure to finally meet such a stunning woman. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Daniel Martin.” His accent is very alluring.
I provide him my hand expecting a handshake; instead, Mr. Martin turns it slightly and kisses the back of it. The client appears to be in his late fifties, early sixties. He’s handsome with ebony colored hair, olive toned skin, and dark, mysterious eyes. His presence emanates power, wealth, and respect. Or is it fear? For some reason, I’m intimidated by him, something about this man is familiar, but not in a good way. Immediately, I disregard my anxiety and introduce myself. “Hello, Mr. Martin. The pleasure is all mine and thank you for wanting to meet with me today.”
Dillon pulls out a chair, silently directing me to have a seat. As we all sit, Mr. Martin asks, “Miss Moretti, may I call you Nina?”
“Please do.” I smile nervously at the client.
Mr. Martin gives me an amused look. “Nina, before we get down to business, tell me about the Bentley photo shoot. How do you know the owner of that vehicle?”
“Actually, I don’t. I never met the client nor did I ask anything about him.” I answer honestly.
Mr. Martin considers my response. “Well, he seems to be infatuated with you, Nina. He has several portraits of you, although none are sexual in nature. Don’t get me wrong, you look exquisite in all of them, but he appears to have a special interest in you and holds you in high regards.”
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“This is news to me, Mr. Martin.” I’m confused. What’s his point?
Mr. Martin directs his attention to Dillon. “I understand you’re the photographer of the Bentley photo shoot, how do you know the buyer of those pictures and how long have you been doing business with him?”
“My client list and the business I conduct with them are completely confidential. I apologize, Mr. Martin, but I cannot provide you with your requested information.” Dillon diplomatically expresses his regret for not being able to answer his client’s intrusive questions.
Mr. Martin smirks at Dillon. “Mr. Hampton, no need to apologize. Even though I appreciate your discretion, I will have to admit that I don’t like rejection. With that in mind, let’s continue with our meeting, shall we?”
We all agree. At that moment, I realize that in my hurry to arrive on time, I accidentally left my portfolio behind in Josh’s Range Rover. “Mr. Martin, pardon me, but it seems I have forgotten my portfolio in the car. I can text someone to drop it off, if that’s okay with you.”
“Please do so, Nina. I would love to see more of your work.” There’s something about Mr. Martin that makes his look towards me feel sinister. He’s behaving like a gentleman, so why is his presence making me feel so uncomfortable?
As I text both Kade and Josh requesting either one to drop off my portfolio, Dillon is on the phone with his sales associate directing him to leave the door unlocked. It’s past closing and all of the gallery’s employees will be off in a few minutes.
Mr. Martin begins to discuss his new tequila line along with his vision for his brand. He provides us with a shot of his tequila añejo which is considered to be premium. Mr. Martin indicates his tequila has been aged in oak for several years, not just the minimum year, therefore considering his brand to be the best and allowing for a hefty price for his superior quality.