Misty (8 page)

Getting the interest of the
National Enquirer
was her best bet. That paper seemed to love printing stories about medical miracles and posting shocking photos of freaks. She doubly qualified to be
featured in the gossip rag, and so she decided it would behoove her to be nice to buck-tooth Johanna. She could get Johanna to contact the paper and tell them about how she had emerged from a coma, inexplicably able to predict the future. Johanna had such an enthusiastic way of expressing herself; she was the perfect person to create a national buzz for Misty.

She'd pretty much kicked Johanna out of her room, but now that she needed her again, she wondered what approach to use to get the nurse to comply with her wishes.
Fuck it, I'll simply apologize and tell her I was in a bad mood. Then I'll make up some shit about her summer home; I'm sure that'll encourage her to help me.

A soft ping informed Misty that another donation had come in. She struggled to lift her contracted hand and with a partially bent index finger, she tapped the screen and saw that Gavin Stallings had sent another thousand. Maybe she needed to talk to this big spender, after all.

Brick returned to the room with a cheerful expression. “You're a celebrity around here, did you know that?”

Misty sucked her tooth. “These fake-ass hospital employees irk me to my soul.”

“What did they do that was so wrong, besides take care of you?”

“They're always skinning and grinning when they come in my room, slyly asking if I would mind giving them a reading.”

“You're supposed to be a psychic, aren't you?”

“Yeah, but I'm not reading anyone else without charging them. Plus, I don't want to get too deep into my new profession until I get my face fixed.”

“What does getting surgery have to do with helping people with their problems?”

“I don't care about helping anyone with their problems. These
people would drain me dry of my powers if I let them. I intend to only read people who can afford my fee, but not until I'm looking presentable. Until then, I have to preserve my abilities.”

“You're a trip, Misty, and you're back to being your old self.”

“What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying that you fell back in love with the sad, dying Misty, but you don't like the real me very much?”

“I felt sorry for you when you were giving up hope. The feisty Misty is the side of you that I'm most familiar with and I've always loved you, you know that. But I'm not taking any shit off you, either. There has to be mutual respect or there's no point in trying to be in a relationship.”

“Don't you think I learned my lesson after you dumped me for my mom?”

“I didn't dump you and you know it. You pushed me away. Now, drop it, Misty.”

Misty blew out a sigh. “Brick, I need a cell phone,” she said out of the blue. “Oh, I'm sorry; I forgot, you haven't been working for a while and you probably spent your last on the apartment.”

“No, I got a couple dollars to tide us over until I get another job.”

“How much is a couple dollars?”

“Don't worry about it. I'll get you a phone; that's not a problem. I'll bring it when I visit tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I was kind of hoping you could get it today.”

“I can't, babe. For one thing, I have a job interview in an hour. And after that, I'm going to visit your little brother.”

Misty suddenly smiled. “How's Little Baron doing?”

“He's good; getting tall.”

“Does he remember me?”

“He hasn't mentioned you, but that's probably because your mom
doesn't bring your name up. But his memory will be refreshed when he starts spending time with us at the crib.”

“I don't know why my mother is so bitter; she's the one who stole my man—”

“Let's not go there again, Misty. Leave it in the past.”

Misty sighed audibly.

“I gotta go.” Brick leaned over and kissed Misty on the lips. “See you in the morning.”

•  •  •

Misty was curious about the big donor and was ready to talk to him. She pressed the button for the nurse, and less than two minutes later, a young nursing assistant named Paulette entered her room.

“Do you need anything, Misty?” Paulette asked in a cheerful tone.

“It used to take y'all damn near the whole shift to answer when I buzzed you, but now that I'm famous, I see you're Johnny-on-the-spot,” Misty said derisively.

“That's not true. We always come as soon as one of us is available.”

“Whatever. Do me a favor, Paulette—tell Johanna McBride that I need to speak to her about something. It's urgent, so tell her to hurry up.”

“Johanna is on break. Can I do something for you?”

This chick really thinks she's going to get a psychic reading out of me, so I'll have to string her along.
“Can I use your cell phone?”

“Sure.”

“I need you to call someone for me and put him on speaker.”

The nursing assistant retrieved her phone from the pocket of her scrubs. Misty recited the number and after Paulette made the
call and set it on speaker, Misty motioned for her to leave. “You can come back and get your phone in about fifteen minutes.”

Paulette exited and a male voice said, “Hello.”

“Hi, Mr. Stallings; this is Misty Delagardo.”

“Ah, Misty! Thanks for getting in touch with me. I read that you're still recovering in the hospital, and I wasn't sure if you'd be able to get back to me.”

“Yes, I'm still here, waiting to get the doctor's approval for release. Thank you for the donations; I appreciate your generosity.”

“I wanted to do my part to help. Your story touched my heart. And by the way, did they ever catch the monster that did that to you?”

“No,” Misty said regretfully. Back when she wanted to die, she wasn't concerned about getting revenge, but she wanted it so badly now, she could taste it.

“I actually cried tears when I saw the beautiful
before
picture that was placed next to the
after
shot. Oh, Misty, my heart bleeds for you, and I'm officially offering to pay for your reconstructive surgery.”

“The surgery I need is not as simple as getting a facelift or a nose job. My bones were crushed. My face literally has to be rebuilt and I need extensive dental work. The cost is extremely expensive.”

“How much do you consider extremely expensive?”

“For all the work I need, it's going to cost somewhere in the area of two hundred thousand dollars.” Misty had done her homework after getting access to the Internet, and the twenty to thirty thousand that Johanna had quoted was far from accurate.

“That's nothing; it's peanuts to a wealthy man like me.”

Misty's breath caught in her chest and her heart began to beat rapidly. If this man was on the up and up, then she wanted to get
started immediately. But before she got her hopes up, she had to find out a little more about him. “Uh, what do you do for a living, Mr. Stallings?”

“Call me Gavin. In response to your question, I don't do much of anything. I paint a little when the mood hits me, and I travel when I get bored, but I mainly take care of my dogs and wait for Randolph to return.”

Who the hell is Randolph?
Gavin didn't sound very stable and Misty's heart sank. She hoped he wasn't playing games with her.

“I don't work because I was born into money,” Gavin continued. “But believe me, being born with a silver spoon in your mouth is not all it's cracked up to be.”

“I bet,” she said, still wondering if Gavin could help her.

“I need a reading, Misty. I can't tell you how many so-called psychics I've been to in the hope of locating Randolph. With all the money I've spent, not one psychic has been able to help me. But after reading your story, I have renewed hope.”

“Who is Randolph?”

“My life partner. We've been together for years, but he refused to leave his wife until his kids were grown. Finally, his youngest child went to college, and he still didn't have the balls to tell his shrew of a wife about our great love. We had a big fight, and shortly after, my darling Randolph vanished off the face of the earth. I need to know where he is. Can you help me?”

“That's not how my gift works. I see flashes of your life and then I see a scene from your future. I don't know in advance what I'm going to see.” She hoped her surgery didn't depend on finding this nutjob's missing lover. Hell, the man probably didn't want to be found.

“I have faith that you're going to be able to tell me where Randolph
is. In fact, I have so much faith, I'm going to set up a consultation for you with Dr. Henry Cavanaugh, one of the best plastic surgeons in the area. Leave it up to me, and he'll be there to consult with you in a day or so.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I believe in you, Misty. Your story spoke to me, and I'm looking forward to meeting you. You need your rest, so I'm not going to keep you on the phone. Give me a call after your consultation with Dr. Cavanaugh.”

“I'll do that,” Misty said, wondering if she dared to dream that a new face was in the foreseeable future.

•  •  •

Misty researched Gavin Stallings online and it turned out that he was a descendant and one of the heirs of a great fortune, passed down from his great-great-grandfather, the founder of a well-known American chemical company, established in the early 1800s. Apparently, in an attempt to keep the money within the family, there was rampant incest in the Stallings family, with cousins marrying cousins and even siblings producing offspring.

If Gavin was a kook, he couldn't help it with all that inbreeding in his family. With the kind of money he had, Misty wouldn't dream of holding his craziness against him.

The Stallings family tree was endless, and after reviewing the history of some of the living family members, she learned that numerous members of the prominent family held positions on the company's Board of Trustees. Some played a large part in politics, and most were well-known philanthropists. The only information she found on Gavin was that he was a patron of the arts.

It was good to know that Gavin wasn't a regular rich guy; he had
mega wealth! Excitement surged through Misty's body, enlivening her paralyzed lower limbs, making her feel able to walk, skip, dance, and jump with the snap of a finger. With a bleeding heart like Gavin in her pocket, she could be wealthier than she'd ever imagined if she played her cards right.

“Girl, I did all of 'em,” Natalie said over the phone in a bragging tone.

“All of what?” Anya glanced at the bedside clock and it was only seven in the morning. “What are you talking about Natalie, and why are up so early?”

“Haven't been to sleep yet. Last night was the bomb. I sucked two of those niggas off in the back of the VIP, and then partied with them later at the Radisson Hotel. I'm still here, chilling in the suite and killing the wet bar.”

“You fucked Sergio's boys?”

“Sure did. All of 'em except Majid and the two that left with you and Sergio.” She went quiet. “Did you party with them?”

“Of course not. How can you brag about letting those guys run a train on you?”

“They didn't run anything on me that I didn't want to happen.”

“Why would you play yourself like that?”

“Girl, you don't know anything about the game.”

“School me.”

“The way to a man's heart is not his stomach; it's his dick. And Majid told me if I took care of his boys, he'd take care of me.”

“That's so twisted. So, let me get this straight: Majid had you fucking and sucking his friends but you didn't do anything with him?”

“Not yet. But I'm gonna get some of that dick eventually. The next time we party, I hope to get with those other two who left with you and Sergio.”

“You sound crazy, but you're grown, and hopefully you know what you're doing.”

“Oh, I definitely know what I'm doing. Majid gave me five hundred dollars to make his friends happy. How much did Sergio give you?”

“Nothing. It wasn't like that.”

“Bye, girl. Sounds like you're the one who got played.”

“I value myself too much to ever get played,” Anya retorted.

“Yeah, right. Everybody gets played some time or another.”

After listening to Natalie's warped way of thinking, Anya felt dirty. Lots of people in Indianapolis had fallen upon hard times, but she doubted if they were whoring themselves out to eke out a living. She needed to rethink her budding friendship with Natalie. A girl who would fuck a man's friends for profit wasn't working with a full deck. And Majid, the man who had paid for the freaky entertainment, had to be a little twisted himself.

After hanging up the phone, Anya tried to go back to sleep, but she could suddenly smell Sergio's cologne clinging to the sheets. It was a pleasant, masculine fragrance, no doubt very expensive. Everything in Sergio's world was expensive, and she supposed that acquiring luxurious possessions was the reason he put his life and freedom at risk. The reason he sold poison to his own people.