Miss Independent (25 page)

              “I don’t know yet. When I called in asking if I could work, he told me that one of the girls scheduled for today called in sick, Max is on vacation, and he has no one else.”

              “He has no one else, or you were just the only person who was willing to burden it all?”

              “Vanessa.”

She raised a hand and stood back. “Fine.”

“What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

              “Work, then dinner and a movie. Which means deadlines, Netflix and take out Chinese for V, party of one.”

              “You’ve got Maurice here.”

              “He’s not going to stay here with me the rest of the day. Besides, I don’t think he wants anything to do with me right now.”

              “What happened to you guys at the party? He seemed excited to go and now you both come back barely speaking and he’s so pissed, I could feel the fumes of his anger radiating off of his body and onto mine. Not that I’m not happy when he’s pissed, but I don’t like to see you so upset.”

              “It’s fine,” she said, unconvincingly. “We’re fine. He just needs to be alone right now, and so do I. I’m going to change clothes and relax a little. Don’t work too hard.”

              “You either.”

Nikki ate a little more of her cake before slipping her hair into a high ponytail and heading out the door.

Later that evening, Vanessa sat on her couch in the living room and began working on a few body image articles for the next issue. She had left messages for Samantha of what needed to be taken care of first thing Monday morning, but hesitated to call her mother on her birthday to remind her of anything, realizing that after the guests had gone and Gina had taken off with some friends, that she and Alexander were probably too ‘busy’ to even hear the phone, let alone want to answer it.

When she saw Maurice slipping past, dressed in another outfit, she got curious and made her way to the foyer. She adjusted her reading glasses and noticed he was wearing black slacks instead of the brown ones earlier, with a matching jacket and no tie. His collar was loose and the first few buttons on his shirt were undone.

He looked aside once he saw her standing there, now barefoot but still in the same clothes from earlier.

              “I’ll be back later,” he said, heading for the door.

              “Wait, wait. Where are you going out dressed like that?”

              “I’ve got a date with Destiny.”

              “Is this a girl, or is it in fact a destiny to go out with her? I don’t understand.”

              “She may be my destiny, I’m not sure of that yet. But for now, it’s just her name.”

              “Um, o
kay
.” She folded her arms, confused. “Where are you two headed?”

              “That Thai restaurant on Madison.”

              She laughed, though there was a hint of anger behind it. “You’re joking. Why the hell would you take her there?”

              “You said you liked it, and I did too. It’s a great place to take a date, which isn’t what we had. The place wasn’t ‘ours’. ” He scrunched his brows. “Why are you making a big deal out of this?”

              “You are such an asshole. Did you call her as soon as we got home?”

              “As a matter of fact, she called me. I left my phone here before the party and when we got back, I saw a few text messages and a voicemail from her and responded. She asked to go out tonight and I thought it was a great idea.”

              “Of course you did.” She rattled her head, glaring at him. “You are some piece of work.”

              “Oh, come off it, Vanessa,” he snapped. “I put myself out there and you turned me down like you always do. What am I supposed to do, become a monk?”

              “It’d be a start,” she shot back.

              He looked down at his shirt, adjusting his collar and buttons. He shook his head and grit his teeth, but started smiling because he couldn’t believe her reaction. He didn’t know if he was glad to see her so angry, or if he was pissed off that she only seemed to show emotion toward him when he was choosing to go out with or sleep with someone else.

“I’m not going to wait around for you anymore,” he replied. “You said I should start getting serious about someone else, and I’m doing it with someone who’s not going to string me along for years.”

“That is such bullshit, I never did that."

“You never got rid of me either. You kept me around here like a stray dog because you knew I’d always come back anytime you wagged a bone in my face.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? I never forced you to stay here or be my friend. I never forced you to have feelings for me either.”

“Do you think any of that was a choice for me?” he asked, his anger rising.

              Vanessa felt like slugging him. He wasn’t only being petty, he was being jackass. But she refrained and nodded, attempting to rationalize in her mind the many ways that his bruised ego was clearly more important than her own crumbling feelings at the moment.

              “Whatever, it’s fine,” she continued. “You’re right, it wasn’t a date for us and that place wasn’t ‘ours’. It was just a way for you to try and get into my pants like always, which I’m sure you’ll be lucky enough to conquer tonight. So good luck.”

              “I don’t think I’ll need it,” he said, “but thanks anyway.”

              As he closed the door behind him, she ran up and kicked the base of her foot against the knob. She wasn’t sure if it was resentment, or downright rage at him being such an obvious prick.

Part Thirteen

Oscar stood behind the counter making coffee and watching Nikki as she wiped down tables and helped customers. He nearly spilled a few cups all over himself as he noticed her interacting a bit too much with the two male patrons in the corner who were sitting at the same table. He had no idea that one of them was from her acting class, while the other was someone she had known from high school who had just gotten a bit role on in a Broadway show. She laughed with them as if she hadn’t a care in the world, as if being at work today was just like any other day before, minus the sex that often took place in the back office. After Oscar handed a few cups of coffee to waiting customers, he casually went over to Nikki, or at least tried to appear casual, and placed a hand on her back, sliding it down to her waist. She looked up at him and he smiled sincerely.

“Can I talk to you for a second in the back?”

“Sure, let me just take care of them first,” she replied.

“I think they’re fine. Right fellas? You’ve got your coffee and your bagels. You’re good, right?”

The two men looked at one another and then smiled politely at Nikki, and nodded.

“Great,” Oscar said. “Nikki?” He pointed toward the back and she excused herself, hurrying behind the counter.

“That was rude,” she said under her breath.

“They’ll be fine. We need to talk.” He pointed again to his office and she waited a few seconds before stepping inside.

She had anxiety from remembering the last time they had been in there. It crept upon her like the shadow of a ghost. Oscar locked the door and immediately slid his hands around her waist and up to her breasts. She turned in a panic, and he kissed her, his tongue gliding over her lips and between them. She wanted to kiss him back but knew she couldn’t and pushed him away. She moved toward his desk and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She shut her eyes to keep a single tear from falling.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked him.

“Because I care about you. And I miss you.”

“Your wife is still in town. Vanessa told me about yesterday’s photo shoot that you had with Melanie and the kids. And then you bring me in here to kiss me like we can go back to everything as it was before all of this.”

“Nothing’s changed. I’m still getting a divorce,” he reminded her.

She spun around and opened her arms wide. “Then where are the papers? What do I have in writing that tells me that you’re actually leaving her and your family to be with me?
Prueba
. You keep telling me it takes time, but it’s been a year now and still, nothing. I’m still the whore on the side and she is still your wife.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Why not? It’s how everyone else will see it if she ever chooses to bring it out. Vanessa said she got the feeling your wife might know something about us. Has she said anything to you since that day I saw you two here?”

He shrugged. “She hasn’t mentioned anything.”

“She’s probably plotting something. I bet she knows and she’s just waiting to catch us in the act, and you keep giving her every opportunity to do it. I can’t do this anymore,” she said. “I can’t keep living my life in fear that your wife will expose me for being a whore. It worked for some people in Hollywood, but it won’t work for me. Your wife is the president of a major production company, and I am a nobody still busting my culo cleaning tables and serving coffee for a living to people who don’t even like it. She will squash me like a bug.”

He moved closer and grabbed her face, massaging her cheeks with his thumbs. Instantly, she wanted to be closer to him. Everything always seemed to feel better when she was in his arms, when everything else in her life seemed to go so wrong. But this time, he was the cause of her problems.

“What do you want?” he asked in a low voice. He slid is hands from her face down to her throat.

“I want you… to stop treating me… like I’m stupid, and admit to me that you don’t plan on leaving your wife.” She opened her eyes and looked up at him. His face was bleak, his eyes were becoming red. What he didn’t say to her seemed to be everything she needed to hear. She removed his hands from her throat and stepped to the side. “I should probably be getting back to work since I’m the only one here.”

She headed for the door and he spun around to face her.

“Nik--”

“Someone could be out there stealing doughnuts or a cup of coffee.”

She immediately opened the door without looking back at him and gently closed it behind her. She breathed in deep, and then exhaled even deeper. Tears were forming, but she couldn’t show her pain at work. It was the first time in a long time when she felt like becoming an actress wasn’t the only thing she was so sure about anymore. She knew the man wasn’t leaving his wife, and she knew that one way or another she had to move on. But she didn’t know if she could truly do that. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to anymore.

Instead of finishing up work like she had hoped, Vanessa was too busy staring at a blank computer screen, wondering what Maurice was doing on his date, and if he had really planned on bringing her back there that night to rub it in her face, or if he had enough decency to take it to her place for once. She didn’t want to care about any of this; she knew the last thing that he was doing in that moment was thinking about her and how she was feeling or what she was even doing and with who, but she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to believe after all these years of witnessing various women exiting his bedroom the next morning as she headed out for work that she was actually jealous of him going out with another one, even if he
had
chosen to take her to the same restaurant. But if he cared about her so much, why would he choose to treat her like this? They were supposed to be different, she was supposed to be first in his life. Maybe she had finally lost that privilege. Maybe he had come to the realization that if she wasn’t going to put him first in her life, then he had no reason to do the same anymore.

              She couldn’t bring herself to start another article and went to the kitchen for the rest of Nikki’s cake instead. She hopped on top of the counter, wondering what life would truly be like if she had in fact decided to give Maurice a chance. Would it really be worth it to risk a fifteen year friendship? The doorbell rang just then, which irritated her. She could no longer think to herself and wasn’t expecting anyone anyway. She waited a few minutes, hoping whoever was ringing her bell would eventually go away, but she wasn’t having much luck. She ate the remainder of the cake, tossing the plate in the trash and headed for the foyer. She dusted her hands of crumbs, and without asking who was on the other side, opened the door to see Sheila standing there wearing an orange Dior dress that she was sure she had worn just a few weeks ago herself.

              She rested her hand on the door and leaned aside. Her face fell and she glowered. “Oh I am really not in the mood for
this
shit,” said Vanessa. “What do you want?”

“I came to talk to you.”

“I can see that. Why?”

“Because it’s been a long time and we never had the chance to speak at lunch. I think that we need to actually sit down and get some things straight between us, woman to woman.”

How about woman to fist
, she thought.

“That crooked road we’re driving on is working just fine for me, thanks. Goodbye.”

She tried shutting the door in Sheila’s face, but Sheila stopped it with the pointed edge of her black Manolo Blahnik.