The next morning I got up bright and early, went to the bank, and cleaned out my savings account. I only had $7,000 in it. I then got a cash advance on my Bank of America credit card. That brought my total to $11,000. I was still $9,000 short. Although my next course of action was a tough one, the images of those two vile men beating on my baby made me do it. I felt I essentially had no choice. I pulled out $9,000 from my father’s account. Since my father owned a total of six apartment complexes, I chose the one that always had the highest balance: the one Marisol managed. It was a two-bedroom complex, located in Cerritos, California. Since it was a better neighborhood than the others, we charged $1,800 a month for the rent. I transferred the money from this account to my checking account. I then went to another branch to take the money out of my account. Although, to the bank, it probably wouldn’t look suspicious because it was my account and my account was legit, I was just more comfortable going to a different branch.
I planned on paying my father back. I would simply put the money back little by little.
Once I was done, I shot back by to my office, thinking even slicker. I felt $9,000 was a big withdrawal even if that building brought in the most revenue. Each complex had its own account and only I had access to them. The managers were each responsible for bringing me the apartment’s rent and the deposits. I got on my laptop and pulled out amounts from the accounts of my dad’s other buildings and put them into the Cerritos complex’s account. I pulled out smaller, staggered amounts, like $2,000 from one, $1,500 from one, $900 from another, and so on until I got to $9,000. I realized that was being a little paranoid and anal; the reason being that my father never kept track of this stuff because he trusted me to do it. But I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t noticeable in case he did decide to check.
I honestly felt a little bad for taking money from him. But I reminded myself that I was going to put it back.
As I waited for the last transfer to process, I damn near jumped out of my seat when my father walked into my office.
“Dad.” I eyed the screen as it continued to process.
“Hey, baby.”
My dad rarely visited me at the office.
“I came to talk to you.”
“Dad, can’t it wait?” The transaction was taking a year and a day to be complete!
“No. It can’t wait.”
The screen said that my transaction was approved. I sighed, relieved, and gave him my full attention. “Go ahead, Daddy.”
“Now, I have always been proud of you and all the hard work you have been doing these last couple years, since you finished college. But, lately, I have been getting a lot of complaints from the apartment managers. They say you’re short with them and very snappy. Baby, they also said you are not being as efficient with their service and repair requests as you used to be. That is really disappointing to hear.”
I closed my eyes briefly. My daddy was right. I wasn’t at my best at work because my mind was always wrapped around Santana. My job had always been my top priority. And now my top priority had switched to Santana. All else was secondary. I couldn’t tell my father this. I tried to think of a believable excuse.
“Well?” He stood in front of me with his arms crossed under his chest.
“Dad. I have had so much on my mind and you just don’t understand that everything you ask me to do is very demanding. I’m really doing my best and it really hurts me that you don’t see that. I am overseeing six different complexes. When your managers screw up, I’m here to fix it. Every time they request petty cash or money over five hundred dollars, I’m sorry, I’m not going to jump to give it to them, because I want to make sure the money is being spent properly and not wasted.” I even dropped some crocodile tears for effect.
My dad seemed to be buying it and he even looked like he felt bad. “I’ll tell you what. Since you feel that way, maybe the solution to this problem is to hire someone to help you out. Take some of the workload off of you. Someone who will be reliable and really assist you. “
The last thing I needed, especially since I had taken some funds from my father, was someone all in my mix. “Daddy. I really don’t want you to have to shell out more money. I don’t need the extra help.”
“You do. Now you know that I have always been the type of father who offered more support than mouth, whereas your mother does support and give you girls mouth.” I laughed at that because it was so true. My daddy was the laidback one. There was nothing laidback about my mother. But, in all honesty, to a certain degree I understood my mother’s anger toward Santana. Had I not dealt with him, some of the problems I had encountered recently would have never happened. Like the scene at the church. Or that crazy girl named Reina messing up our cars and attacking me. We had never in all my years of belonging to that church had any sort of drama like that, or anyone bringing drama to our doorstep. I knew what happened at church had humiliated my parents and my sister. It was exactly why I had to pay those hoodlums Santana’s debt. So they could leave him alone and stay out of our life.
“Listen. I want you to take care of yourself, baby. That’s all. I’m not going to meddle and tell you what to do. Just take care of yourself. Got it?”
I smiled and nodded. “I got it, Daddy.”
“Now back to business. I’m going to create a new position. I don’t feel like scouting for someone new so I’m going to hire internally. They will have to report to you. And once we get this settled, I don’t want to hear anything else from my employees or you.”
“Okay.” I knew I had no choice. So I left it alone.
“Use them as an assistant, baby. Let them answer to you. Whatever you can’t get to, dump it on them, got it?”
“Yes. And I’m sorry about what happened at church.”
My dad looked away when I said the last line, about church. It was like he wanted to comment, but was holding himself back from saying anything. Maybe he didn’t want to seem abrasive and intrusive like my mother.
“Santana has made some bad choices, Daddy, but he is really trying to turn his life around. Mom acts like she hates him; just don’t look down on us, Daddy.”
“I could never look down on you, baby. I love you.”
I smiled deeply. I was sure my dimples were showing. It felt good to hear that, especially since my mother and sister were definitely looking down on me. Not to mention my friendship with Arianna seemed like it was over. It felt good to still have my papa on my team.
“Well, I’m going to get going. I won’t put this on you since the whole reason we are hiring someone is because you’re overwhelmed. So I’ll pick the person. Once I make a decision on who I am going to use, I will let you know.”
He leaned over and kissed me on my cheek. Then he was out the door.
I was only able to concentrate for another hour before I decided to shut things down and get home to give the cash in my purse to Santana. When I made it home and walked in the door of my house, I saw him pacing back and forth in the living room, his cell phone in his hand.
When he saw me he looked relieved. “Damn, baby. About time you got back here.”
“I know. I got the money, so don’t worry, Santana.” I pulled it out of my purse. “That’s twenty thousand right there.”
He took a deep breath and gave me a beautiful smile, where all his teeth were exposed. “Thank you, baby.” He kissed me on the lips and took the money out of my hands.
“After this, you’re done with that, Santana. I’m for real.”
“Man, I’m saying . . . I’m done. You just gotta trust me, baby.”
“I do. Or else I wouldn’t be doing this.”
“I know, baby. That’s why I love you. You got me. I’m going to have you too . . . Trust.”
“Are you going to be okay going to them by yourself? Do you think they will try something?” I truthfully didn’t want him anywhere near those guys.
“I’ll be fine, babe. Don’t worry.” He grabbed his keys, stuffed the money in a plastic shopping bag, and was o
ut of the house in a flash.
I was left to sit on the couch and wait for him to come back safely. Or hope he came back safely.
Chapter 16
While waiting for Santana to get back, I cooked dinner. I ended up sautéing shrimp with garlic, onion, and peppers. I also made some rice pilaf and vegetable medley. I had no appetite to eat any of it, not even a few bites.
Once everything was done, I went into my room and lay down. I contributed my loss of appetite to the fact that I feared something bad might happen to Santana. Although he said he would be safe delivering the money to those two guys . . . I didn’t know. I just didn’t trust them. What if they beat him up? Or, worse, killed Santana? I mean, those men seemed to be really ruthless like Santana had said. They came into a church of all places and physically assaulted him.
But, in all honesty, I knew I couldn’t do anything about the situation. He didn’t tell me where he was going to meet them and if he did what could I do to help? Nothing. I was a woman with no muscle. I wasn’t even good at fighting chicks, let alone a man. And I couldn’t call the police because that could get Santana caught up. I had done all I could do, and that was getting him the money. I tried not to worry about it and attempted to go to sleep. My racing mind made that very hard.
Minutes flew to hours. When there was no sign of Santana, I began blowing up his cell with countless texts and calls. I got no response either way. This stressed me out further even though my mother had always taught me not to worry. I couldn’t control the dread I was feeling. I cried and bit my nails down to the nubs, really feeling like something had happened to him. Three hours passing were far too many for me. It got to the point that I picked up the phone to call the police and say he was missing. But then I didn’t have to because Santana finally walked into the house, calling out, “Babe?”
I jumped up out of the bed and raced to the living room. When I saw him standing there looking around for me, I ran to him and jumped into his arms, saying, “Baby. You’re back!”
I hugged him close, heard him laugh, and felt him tighten his arms around me. I was so relieved I got teary-eyed.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He slid my body down until I was back standing. He kept his hands wrapped around my waist.
I started sobbing. Those hours I had waited for him to come back I had honestly thought the worst: that my baby wasn’t coming back. And now he was here in front of me. Pain moved into joy. He was okay. He was safe and sound.
“I don’t know.” I wiped the tears that came quickly. “I just kept feeling that you weren’t coming back. And now that you’re here, I feel so relieved.”
“Well I’m for real, for real back. That shit is over now. I’m going to concentrate fully on you. My mind is more at ease now that I don’t have that shit on my brain. So I won’t be all edgy and moody now, baby.” He traced the outside of my lips with one of his index fingers. I kissed the tip of it.
“Now I can work on more legal avenues so I can take care of you, Alexis.”
I poked my bottom lip out, thinking, awww, at his sweetness. I wished my parents, sister, Arianna, and the members of my church could be flies on my living room wall right now. So they see the beauty of this man. Not just the outer but the inner.
We both sat on the couch. He looked at me and smiled. “Sing me a song, baby.”
I closed my eyes and started singing Beyoncé’s “1+1.” “‘If I ain’t got something I don’t give a damn ’cause I got it with you.’” I continued to sing, hitting all Beyoncé’s high notes, like the song was written for me to sing it in that moment to Santana. “‘Make love to me, me, me, me. Oh make love to me.’” I had a habit of closing my eyes on high notes. When I opened them I saw that Santana had tears running down his face.
“Baby, don’t cry.” I grabbed his face between my two hands and pulled him close to me so that I could kiss his tears away.
His expression changed to one of desire. Our mouths opened to each other. Our tongues started battling passionately.
He broke the kiss by saying in a husky voice, “Make love to me, baby.”
And I did. We made love with so much fervor. He let me be in control this time. I rode him real slow, giving it to him in a way that made him scream. And as he climaxed he continued to shout, “Alexis, I love you! I love you, Alexis.” He kept repeating the same thing, flipping the words around each time.
Then we both went into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. I slept in his arms peacefully.
As I parked my car across the street from the building my office was located in, I saw Marisol standing near the building, obviously waiting for me. I took my time getting out my car. I wasn’t going to rush for her or anyone else. I huffed out an impatient breath as I grabbed my things, and closed and locked my car. I then walked toward the building. She rushed toward me and gushed out with a smile pasted on her face, “Hi, Alexis!”
Despite her enthusiasm, I gave her a mere nod. “Marisol. You need to call before you just pop up here. Your apartment complex is not the only one my father owns you know.”
“Oh no, Alexis. I’m not here for that. Your father came over and talked to me the other day. He hired me as your assistant, to come in and help you out. I tell you, it couldn’t have come at a better time and I’m so grateful. With my husband being out of work and in the hospital undergoing his chemo treatments, I sure can use that extra money for my kids.”
I frankly did not give a shit about her or her situation. First off, no one told her to have four kids while living in the Montavia Projects (Cerritos was like Beverly Hills to her). Secondly, I wasn’t too happy about her tattling to my daddy the day I snapped at her. I had never snapped at her before. I felt I was entitled to one snap. With her being dirt poor and caring for all her kids and dealing with a sick husband, I was sure she blew a head gasket and had snapped on someone once or twice. But she felt the need to tell on me. And thirdly, I didn’t need someone in my office, all in my face. She seemed nosy.
When I didn’t converse with her, she continued. But I pretty much tuned her out. I simply unlocked my office, walked inside, turned on the lights, set my things down, and took a seat behind my desk. She continued to talk. I then started up my computer.
When she finally took a breather I said, “You know, Marisol, I told my father I was fine.”
“Well, whatever you need done just let me know. Because I’m here to work.”
Marisol stood near the door with her hands clasped together. I guessed waiting for me to welcome her to a seat. I didn’t. “There really is nowhere for you in—”
“Oh no. Your father said that he’s going bring a spare desk, chair, and a computer over here for me. Matter of fact, let me call him and see what time they will be bringing it.”
Great. I pulled out my cell and sent Santana a text saying I missed him.
She pulled out her phone and I watched her dial my father’s number. After a few rings he picked up. “Hi, Mr. Vancamp. It’s Marisol. I was calling to see when you were going to bring the items we had discussed.”
She waited a few seconds before laughing and said, “Yes! I’m anxious to get started. Yep. I discussed it with my brother, Carlos, and he is going to be in charge of the grounds while I’m here, and he has my cell should he need to ask me anything. Okay, great!” She handed me the phone. “Your dad wants to talk to you.”
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe. I got some bad news. I just found out that my aunt passed and your grandmother is not taking it too well. I’m going to fly out there so I won’t be back for about two weeks. I told your mother to tell you but she snapped at me and said for me to tell you girls myself. She has been so testy with me lately. So just make sure everything is okay with the buildings and if there are any issues call me.”
“Sorry to hear about your aunt, Daddy. And I sure will,” I said in a distracted tone. I wanted to get back to texting Santana. I was sorry that my father had lost his aunt, but I didn’t really know her so it di
dn’t make me too sad. I just felt a little sad for my daddy.
Forty minutes later, one of my father’s workers came to my office, invading my space with all that crap for Marisol’s fat ass. She had barely been here an hour and she was already getting on my nerves. Then, I figured, if she was going to be here, why the hell not use her for what she was there for?
I had her running around picking up the rent, putting up FOR RENT signs for vacant units. She was always the one who brought hers to me. While I had always appreciated her taking the extra trip, I felt now it was just her way of brownnosing to my daddy. I also had her check the mail and the abyss of faxes that I hadn’t gotten a chance to get to in the past few weeks so I could text back and forth with Santana.
Marisol stood in front of me with a letter in her hand. “Alexis. This is thirty-day notice from Larry Sherman.”
“Damn.” I put my cell down and grabbed the letter from her. I scanned it quickly. The letter stated that he was putting in his thirty-day notice and vacating his position as manager.
I sighed. With that happening, I knew we were taking a big loss. Larry was over at our complex in Compton. I didn’t trust any of the tenants there. And that building was the most challenging of our buildings, because the tenants were often late on their rent. Past tenants were gangbangers and, at one point, someone was literally selling drugs out of the complex. There was a lot of tagging on the property, causing my father to shell out a lot of money for cameras, painters, and even, at one point, security. Police were constantly called over to that building. Although I loved the manager we had at that time, an elderly lady named Diane, we had no choice but to let her go and look for a manager with a stronger presence who could clean house. That was Larry. He was born and raised in Compton. Once we hired Larry, there were never any more issues at that complex. He kept things under control. He was a very strong and efficient manager. The problem was the fact that the fax had been sitting on the machine for the past three weeks and I had not checked it. Damn.
The Demise of Alexis Vancamp Page 9
