by Sienna Mynx
Cezar glared at her. He glanced back at Renaldo this time with a sneer. “You fucking her too!”
“Oh go to hell,” she said. Something was mounting, she could feel the element of danger and it scared her. She reached behind her for Renaldo’s hand. “Let’s go.”
He didn’t budge. Kyra looked back and Renaldo was still and silent. “Ignore him. Let’s go,” she said again. Renaldo’s gaze never left Cezar. He vibrated with invisible tension.
“You whore! You’re a fucking whore, Kyra! A cold-blooded bitch! What is he? Your next customer!” Cezar yelled after her.
“Kiss my ass, Cezar!” she shouted back at him. Renaldo shoved her aside. Kyra grabbed his sleeve. “No. It’s fine. Let’s just go. Please!” Kyra pleaded.
He didn’t listen. In a flash of violence he was on Cezar. Renaldo seized him by the collar and throat with one hand. And though Cezar was only a few inches shorter than Renaldo he was lifted from his feet. And to Kyra’s horror he was then slammed down hard on the sidewalk. Cezar screamed. The assault was beyond vicious. Renaldo pounded his fist into Cezar’s face until blood spurted from the man’s nose and mouth.
“Stop it! You’re going to kill him!” Kyra tried to grab at Renaldo but he behaved like a madman. Cezar gurgled and his eyes rolled in his head. “Stop it, please!” Kyra wept, with her hands now to her mouth.
Renaldo’s fist froze mid-air. He dragged a semi-conscious Cezar up an inch from the concrete by his hair. Kyra wasn’t sure what he said.
Cezar’s glasses had shattered in one lens. But she saw his eyes through the swelling and blood. He looked at her. “I apologize, Kyra. Forgive me!” he pleaded in agony. Renaldo let him go. Cezar shot to his feet and ran for his life.
Stunned, shaking with terror and tears, Kyra looked at the blood on the sidewalk and then to Renaldo. She backed away from him in horror. She’d never seen anybody respond to anything in her life with such violence. He walked toward her and she put up her hand. “Don’t come near me,” she wept. “What the hell is wrong with you? You could have killed him.”
Renaldo blinked as if confused.
“He’s a jerk, yes. But what you did. My God,” she said with disgust. “I want you to go! Go!” she said. Fearful she raced to her door and punched in the key code. The door unlocked and she hurried inside. Renaldo stood on the sidewalk for a moment. She peeked out at him to see if he would leave. He did.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Cezar deserved it. Hell if she were a man she would have slugged him herself. But what she witnessed didn’t feel heroic. It was both dark and sinister. And the wild look in Renaldo’s eye when he let him go was the most frightening. She backed away and went to the elevator. When she was on the lift she immediately began to rethink her reaction. The man was from a different world. And his actions were only in defense of her. Kyra put a hand to her head unsure of what to do next.
She walked to her apartment door, unlocked it, and went inside. Sad she fell back on her door. Kyra shook her head. She walked over to her sofa and sat down.
Before she could take off her shoes there was a pounding on her door.
Startled she froze. Her heart beat so hard she feared it would go into arrest. Of course no one could arrive at her door from outside unless she invited that person. Still she felt a cold prickle of apprehension move up her spine.
“Kyra, girl! Open up!” Jamie demanded.
“Jamie?” she sighed.
Kyra went to the door and opened it. Jamie barged in. “Girl! Hells bells, snakes and snails, seeing is believing, honey. Hercules put Poindexter on his ass!” Jamie clutched her chest. “Was that him? The hit man? Honey! Whew!” Jamie fanned herself. “Got me tingling all over. He’s beautiful. And means business. Oh my!”
“Wait, you saw it?” Kyra closed the door.
“Yes. I was at the window when you two got out of the car. Then Poindexter runs his lanky ass up and starts talking shit. But your man wasn’t having it.” Jamie threw air punches like a boxer. She ducked and weaved against an imaginary opponent. “Whew, he put his ass down.” Jamie laughed shaking her blonde wig. “Girl, I died when Waldo ran his scary ass back to his car and high tailed it out of there. Why did you send Hercules away?”
“He could have killed him,” Kyra said.
“So?” Jamie dropped her hands to her hips. She wore a black silk Kimono with a sewn red dragon down the back and wide bell like sleeves.
“So?” Kyra shook her head. “I don’t like violence. And I sure as hell don’t want a violent man. Cezar is an asshole, a creep, but Renaldo took it too far.” She sat down. “What else should I have done? Invited him upstairs for tea? The man had blood on his hands and coat for God’s sake. What if he got pissed with me? How would he react then?”
Jamie chuckled. “Hercules didn’t look like a man out of control. It looked like chivalry to me.”
“Are you for real?” Kyra scoffed.
“Listen to me, honey. Men come in all kinds. Look at me!” Jamie twirled for her in her Wonder Woman fashion. Kyra had no choice but to laugh. “You thought Cezar was a sweet little geek to play with, and he flipped on you. What would have happened if your guy didn’t bring you home? I told you to report Cezar’s creepy ways to the police. It could have been far worse.”
Kyra nodded in agreement.
“I don’t condone violence either. But this is a violent world, sweetheart. Sometimes you got to throw the first punch,” Jamie reasoned.
“I guess. I don’t know. He did something really sweet for me too. I have news.” She smiled. “Renaldo got an interview for me with Catalina Battaglia. Tomorrow morning.”
“No shit!” Jamie exclaimed. “He did that?”
Kyra felt the sharp edge of guilt stab her heart once more. She’d set out to seduce Renaldo to get closer to the Battaglias. And in the process found him irresistible. Now he’d done what she asked and she chased him away over one incident. “I should call him and apologize. Maybe invite him back for dinner. Something I cook?”
Jamie winked.
Kyra rose. She went to the phone. She called information for the number to the Waldorf and then dialed his hotel room. After several rings with no answer she was connected with the receptionist desk.
“Yes I’d like to leave a voice message for Renaldo Cracchiolo please.”
The receptionist put her on hold and then transferred her to a message line.
“Hi, ah, it’s me. Kyra. Sorry about earlier. I might have overreacted. I’d like to make it up to you. If you’d like? Um. Can you come here at 7? I want to cook for you. Okay. Bye.”
She hung up.
Jamie clapped. “Bravo as the Italians would say!”
Kyra put on a brave smile. She was still uneasy over the entire incident. But she agreed with Jamie, she should have at least heard the man out. “What if he doesn’t want to come back? I might have screwed things up? Huh?”
“You’re young, prone to overreacting. How old is he?” Jamie asked.
“Twenty-seven,” she said. “He’s a single dad too. He has a ten year old son.”
“Then he deals with kids. He’ll figure it out.” Jamie joked. Kyra rubbed her temples. The day was ruined. And it was all her fault for not dealing with Cezar seriously. She could have spent the evening showing Renaldo New York. Her thoughts returned to Cezar.
“I think I might need to get a restraining order against him. He’s crazy. Do you know he called me a whore? What the hell is wrong with him?”
“You need to report him. Go down to the station and have him served.” Jamie went to the window and looked out of it. “The sooner the better.”
“Okay. Now. Let’s talk about my interview. I need your help to get ready.”
“Go get the portfolio. What shoes will you wear?” Jamie asked.
Kyra went into the other room and fetched her portfolio case. “Shoes?”
“You need to wear the fiercest pair we got. Make sure they truly sparkle on your feet. Give them a taste
.”
“Oh yeah, true. Pick a few pairs and I’ll practice.” Kyra laid out the portfolio folder. She glanced to the telephone. She couldn’t wait to see Renaldo again. She really hated the way they left things.
Later –
Kyra stirred her soup. She had made groundnut soup, fried yams, and fried fish. They were her favorite recipes from her mother’s kitchen. Renaldo never called back. She’d left another message for him thirty minutes ago to confirm if he was coming. She got no return call.
Her gaze lifted to the candles on the table. The apartment was cleaner than she’d ever kept it. She even polished the floorboards. All afternoon she did what she could to prepare. She had chosen Anita Baker for mood music. And her apology had been rehearsed to perfection. None of it mattered. After waiting another hour she sadly realized Sunday was a bust. And her short-lived romance with her mysterious Sicilian was donezo.
Kyra blew out the candles and sat back with a sad sigh. Maybe it was for the best. Kyra pushed back from the table and began to put up her meal. She’d have something to take for lunch.
Chapter Six
Interviews and Apologies
“You’re here mighty early,” Bette snickered.
Kyra looked up. She was so nervous she got to work at six. The ability to speak failed her early on. All she could do was nod her answer. Her heart felt as if it were permanently lodged in her throat. Bette’s critical stare went from Kyra to the portfolio folder Kyra kept with her behind the receptionist cubicle.
“Something going on I should know?” Bette asked.
“Interview,” Kyra croaked. She swallowed and spoke clearly. “I have an interview with Catalina and Marietta Battaglia this morning,” Kyra clarified.
Bette sipped her coffee and didn’t respond.
Kyra didn’t care what Bette thought. She would get her shot and she’d succeed in spite of them all.
“The interviews are bullshit, Kyra. They will close this office and take whomever Mirabella has already chosen for Paris. I told you honey, this company is going in a different direction. And tacky shoes aren’t it. You should consider doing the same.”
“I’m sick of your snotty bullshit okay?”
Bette laughed and cut her eyes away as if to dismiss Kyra. “Now it’s snotty bullshit? Just the other day you called it advice,” Bette tossed back.
“That was until I realized your petty jealousy made you pathetic and immature.”
“Really?” Bette arched a brow. “I’m immature, and you’re the girl who writes on shoes with crayons and calls it art.”
“At least I have talent. Not some stuffy degree, and a team of kiss-ass junior stylists to make me feel important.” Kyra said.
“Well good luck, Kyra. You’ll need it.”
Kyra rolled her eyes. Bette sashayed away. The elevator dinged. Kyra’s gaze flipped up. She stared out past the glass doors to the elevator and waited for the Battaglia women. Secretly she wanted to see Renaldo. She was still pissed that he blew off her apology last night.
The doors parted. Mr. Tate walked out with a couple of other employees. Kyra lowered her gaze in disappointment. It was still early.
“Morning,” Mr. Tate said. He picked up his mail from the receptionist cubicle. “Coffee-black-no-sugar and bring it to my office, love,” he said and strolled away.
“Yes, Mr. Tate,” Kyra said. She walked around the desk and hurried to the break room. Kyra fixed the cup of coffee the way her boss liked and headed towards his office. She looked up to see Catalina and Marietta Battaglia walking down the hall. Both women looked regal, beautiful. Each wore furs over nicely tailored beige pantsuits.
Catalina smiled at her first. “Kyra right?”
“Yes ma’am, ah, Ms. Battaglia.”
Catalina tossed her hair back over her shoulder and glanced to Renaldo. He stared directly at Kyra. “She’s your friend, Renaldo?” Catalina asked.
He gave a nod.
Kyra glanced to Marietta who again was staring at her shoes. She felt her heart race.
“Well, let’s start with you first, then. Meet me in the conference room in ten minutes, okay?”
“Thank you, Ms. Battaglia.”
Catalina winked and walked off. Marietta Battaglia followed. She sought Renaldo with her eyes but he didn’t look her way. The snub hurt. All that he left in his wake was the faint spicy trail of his aftershave. Kyra balanced the cup of coffee and walked it back to the office where Theodore Tate paced in his office. He hung up the phone when she entered.
“Kyra,” he accepted the coffee from her hands. “I need you to transcribe the notes from our Friday meeting. Phyllis called in sick.” He checked his watch. “Can you get it done within the hour?”
“Ah, Mr. Tate. I might not be able to finish that quickly,” she said.
“Why?” he asked.
“I have an interview,” Kyra smiled.
Tate looked at her as if she cursed at him. Kyra was confused and embarrassed by her smile and let it slip from her lips. “Ms. Catalina said I can meet with her in the conference room within ten minutes.”
“What are you interviewing for?” he seethed.
“Ah… well a job in Paris, and my shoe…”
“Damn it, Kyra! Did I not tell you what was at stake? That we were to convince the Battaglias to keep the New York office open?” he shouted. “What the hell did you think I took you to the dinner for?”
“I—”
“You won’t be doing the interview. Because we aren’t relocating the damn office! Now transcribe the fucking notes!” he said and then dismissed her. Stunned she had no choice but to leave and close his office door. Kyra wasn’t sure of what to do next. In five minutes the chance to secure her dream job awaited her. If she did the interview Mr. Tate could fire her. She walked back to her desk on shaky legs.
Renaldo approached. Kyra smiled at him. She tried to speak but he turned and headed for the doors. Kyra hurried. She rushed out the doors and caught him by the elevator. “Are you just going to ignore me?”
He glanced back at her.
“I called you last night. Invited you over. You stood me up,” Kyra said.
The elevator doors opened. He stepped inside.
“Renaldo?” she said. He punched the button. He stared through her. “Fine! I won’t bother you again!” she turned before the doors closed. When she walked back into the office she decided she would go for it. Kyra grabbed her portfolio case and marched down the hall with her head up high. Inside the conference room Catalina laughed with Marietta over a cup of coffee. The women both looked up at her.
“Hi. Are you ready for me?” Kyra asked.
“Have a seat.” Catalina gestured. One of the men that shadowed them and worked under Renaldo closed the door to the room after stepping outside. Kyra put her portfolio on the table and unzipped it. She let it flip open to the first large glossy image of the best shoes in her and Jamie’s collection.
“What’s this?” Catalina asked.
“May I?” Marietta gestured to the portfolio.
“Yes, please,” Kyra said and pushed it across the table to the women. “My name is Kyra Okeeno and I’ve been with Mirabella’s for under six months. I’m a temporary employee. I have a bachelor’s degree in Chemistry from—”
“You answer the phones with a degree in Chemistry?” Marietta asked, flipping from one image to the next. Catalina seemed to be interested in what she saw as well. “Yes. But for me the receptionist job was a transitional role. As you see I’m a designer too.”
“Nice,” Catalina said.
“Impressive,” Marietta said.
Kyra smiled. “Me and my best friend Jamie. We have an entire collection. Everything from daywear, to evening shoes. We design boots, and sneakers too. We have a name for our collection. It’s called S-n-H, Sassy n Heels.”
When neither of them looked up with interest Kyra struggled to find something else to add. The women continued to leaf through the portfolio, pointing at di
fferent shoes. “I’m wearing a pair!” Kyra exclaimed. She pushed back from her seat and stepped out from around the table. She posed. The women stared at her shoes for a moment and then exchanged a glance. “I know Mirabella’s doesn’t have a shoe line. And I know that I’m inexperienced. But I’m willing to take on an apprentice role, prove myself.”
“Who owns the rights to S-n-H?” Marietta asked.
“Me and Jamie. It’s our company.” Kyra said. “She’s the creative side for the platform heels. Those are her signature shoes.”
“Un hunh,” Catalina said. “Do you mind if we keep this for a moment? To review and discuss?”
“No, of course not. Go ahead. And thank you both for meeting with me,” Kyra grinned.
They nodded. “We will be making decisions by the end of the day with our first round of interviews. We don’t have much longer here in America. I’ll let you know what we decide, Kyra.” Catalina said.
“Thank you!” Kyra nearly skipped out. She couldn’t stop grinning. When she hit the hall she was bubbling with excitement. She had to call Jamie. If they wanted her shoe line then of course she could pitch bringing her onboard. She and Jamie could take Paris by storm.
“It went well?” a voice spoke behind her.
Kyra glanced back over her shoulder. Renaldo’s shadow covered her. He stared at her with those intense eyes the color of cognac. “I thought you weren’t talking to me?”
He took her hand and pulled her to another conference room and inside. Kyra went willingly. Renaldo paced away. “I am sorry for… my behavior.”
“I cooked for you,” Kyra said with a pout. “And what was with ignoring me this morning?”
His brows arched in surprise. “You cooked for me?”
“I can cook. I left you messages. I said I was making dinner so we could talk. Oh never mind it.” She tried to walk around him but he stopped her.
“I was going to walk away. Let it go. I cannot.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry for overreacting. But you kind of freaked me out. Cezar’s a jerk. He deserved to be chased away, it’s the violence I don’t like. Hell I can’t even watch scary movies. You went intense and I… it scared me.”
