Miss Independent, Volumes 1 - 4

by Kiki Leach

  “I’ve been thinking more and more about it since Maurice and I split up. I guess I’m just starting to wonder if my issues with men might have something to do with what he did in leaving and never bothering to say goodbye or contact us once he was gone. I feel like I was so afraid of being alone because of it. To the point that even after all of the shit Nathan did, I would have been more than willing to take him back had none of it gone public thanks to Mo.”

  “Are you pissed at Mo for leaking it because you’d still be with Nathan if he hadn’t?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m getting at. It’s probably for the best that it came out because it helped to end the toxicity that Nathan and I had become. I can’t be pissed at Mo for helping to end something that was already dying a slow death and just waiting for one of us to pull the plug. I’m am pissed that he fucked around with my trust, just like I told you the first damn time. What I’m saying now is that if it hadn’t, there’s a real possibility that things would’ve been much more different, which probably wouldn’t have been good for any of us. I’m just curious if my feelings on that, along with my being so afraid to step back into the ring with Maurice again, might go back to my abandonment and trust issues with Daddy?”

  “So on the one hand, you can’t trust Maurice for helping to end a toxic relationship that should’ve been killed the moment it started. And yet on the other, you’re certain you would’ve stayed in that same toxic relationship had the truth not gone public, all thanks to the man that you should be with, right now, as we speak?”

  “YES!”

  She abruptly shut her eyes and shook her head as a wave of confusion washed over her. “Maybe you should go back into therapy, Vanessa.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “And I am aware of that,” she replied. “But everything you’re telling me sounds too screwed up to fix.”

  “I’m not asking you to fix me, I’m asking for your opinion on it, there’s a difference.”

  “I gave you my opinion on it, V.”

  “Telling me to go back into therapy isn’t the kind of opinion I was looking for. Considering what you’re going through with Rodney, I was hoping that you could give me some kind of insight--”

  “Well I can’t,” she snapped. “Maybe if Terrence ever decides to come around again, he can give you the insight you’ve been looking for.” Felicia stood up from the chair and dropped her hands in front of her. “All I really need now are the sketches so that I can place them on Alexis’ desk before she comes back into the office and has a fit.”

  Taken aback by Felicia’s swift change in attitude, which left her virtually shaking in her heels, Vanessa kept her eyes on her sister as she pointed across the room. Felicia followed the direction of her hand to the pile of sketches sitting on top of the bookcase.

  She flipped through each one in silence before glancing back at her sister. “Is this all of them?” she asked.

  “That’s as many as I was able to come up with on such short notice, yeah,” Vanessa told her. “If she doesn’t like any of them, I can’t do much about that but maybe with enough money or desperation to put up with her perfectionism, she’ll find someone else who can.”

  Felicia snatched the sketches and tucked them beneath her arm. “Considering the deadline is tonight, she’s not likely to go with anything else outside of this pile.”

  “I don’t know with her anymore, but it doesn’t really matter anyway because they’re out of my hands now and into yours.”

  The girls stared at each other for a few minutes before Felicia finally left the office in a huff. Vanessa couldn’t exactly piece together why her sister reacted in the manner that she had, but didn’t have much time to process any of it as Samantha entered her office shortly after with a reminder of the meeting she had planned for her staff later in the afternoon.

  “Shit,” she mumbled. She dropped her elbows on her desk and slapped her hands around her face. “I completely forgot about that. Did I happen to tell you what I had planned to talk to them about?”

  “The finances of modern women and how to incorporate a budget for the ‘girl on the go’ into more of their articles,” she said, glancing up from her electronic notebook. “As well as what you hope the new layout will look like.”

  “I don’t even remember which sketch I liked the most, but I can almost guarantee that whichever one I chose, Alexis will choose the exact opposite – if she chooses any at all. Either way, she’ll want something tweaked enough to make it look as if someone else had done it entirely, therefore leaving me no credit whatsoever in regard to the original copy.” She threw herself back in the chair and bounced her head against the headrest. “I’m starting to wonder how much of this job is worth the pieces of any stability I might have left. I feel as if it’s being stripped away bit by bit and the shit with Maurice has only made things worse. Everywhere I go, I’m reminded of him and us and what we’ve done or what I’ve always wanted to do with him. Things we once shared.” She glanced across the room. “Like this stupid couch.” She got up from her chair and moved over toward Samantha. “We’ve almost had sex on that couch,” she said. “More than once.”

  Samantha gradually placed a hand over her stomach and gulped. “I’ve sat on that couch numerous times within the last few months, V.”

  She cut her eyes at Samantha. “I said ‘almost’, I never said that we actually went through with it.”

  “But you went far enough, right?”

  “We always went far enough. But we’ve never had sex outside of my bedroom. Well, that’s not exactly true, we’ve never had sex outside of my house… Maybe that’s not exactly true either.” Vanessa drew in a short breath and Samantha scrunched her face in disgust. “I’m only telling you this because I think that it’s time I finally get rid of this thing and purchased another. Maybe something white. Hell, purple even. A purple leather couch that matches absolutely nothing inside this office. That way, it’ll not only piss off my mother but it will keep me from being distracted by thinking of Maurice. Two birds, one stone.”

  Vanessa returned to her desk.

  Samantha strolled over and looked into Vanessa’s eyes; despite trying to hide it as best as she could, Samantha couldn’t help in noticing the waves of sadness crashing through her like a burst pipe.

  “Are you absolutely sure that you want to get rid of this couch?” she asked. “It might be better to change up the colors of your office by bringing in a new one, but memories are sacred. Especially those that you carry of someone you love. They’re one of the few things in life that I have never really taken for granted.”

  “I don’t take my memories of Mo for granted,” she said. “But what good does any memory of this couch do me when there’s a high chance that I’ll never have moments like that with him again?”

  “It gives you the hope of the possibility that it might.”

  “That’s a lot of words.” Vanessa eyed her with curiosity and quietly laughed. “I’ve never taken you for one as being such a hopeless romantic.”

  Samantha grinned. “It’s not so much me being a hopeless romantic as it is me believing that what you have with Maurice is far from over. And I can say that as someone who’s only seen you with him in work related group settings.”

  “And because of that, you think that I should keep the couch?”

  “Maybe inside a storage unit if it keeps you too distracted up here. If you throw away everything that reminded you of what was good with him--”

  Vanessa showed Samantha her hand. “I get it, Mahatma Ghandi, you don’t have to go any further than that. I think my mother still has a giant storage unit just a few miles outside the city. She doesn’t have much shit in there anymore, so maybe the couch can fit inside of there. Get the number to the place from my sister and then get the number for a moving company to see if they can get this thing out of here in a timely fashion, and with as little fanfare as possible.”

  Samantha feverishly marked notes on her
pad.

  “Speaking of the press, I need you to do me a favor and check around to see if anyone has pictures of Mo or Nathan from last night. As well as any pictures of me and Mo that were taken this morning outside of that damn pop-up market just a few steps from the building. If anyone has something, get me their names and I’ll take it from there.”

  “Sure thing,” she said, making her last note. “Anything else.”

  Vanessa rubbed her hands down the front of her face and complained. “I don’t necessarily want you to do this because I don’t want to do it myself. But whenever you get time in between all of that, make a quick phone call down to the Fifteenth District Police station. Discreetly ask about Nathan and make sure he hasn’t done anything stupid that he can’t take back. I’ve debated on whether or not I even want to go down there to bail him out. As much as I don’t think he deserves it, I can’t actually just leave him in there like that, can I?” She glanced up at Samantha and lifted her brow. “Can I?”

  “I’m not really the one who should be giving you any advice,” she said.

  “But I’m asking for it.”

  Samantha took a few seconds to think. “When you told me this morning what happened, I was appalled. But I still don’t think Nathan is all that bad of a person, maybe a little bit messed up. And leaving him in there for too long might cause more problems for the both of you than solutions.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” She rested her hands on top of her head and grumbled. “Shit. Alright, then call down there and make sure he’s still… you know, first. And then take care of everything else.”

  “Sure thing.”

  As Samantha backed out of her office and closed the door, Vanessa looked over at that couch again. Within seconds her mind flooded with memories of every single moment she had spent there with Maurice, whether he was placing her on her back and sliding between her legs, or just sitting with her and eating Chinese food out of boxes as she mulled over articles and last minute photographs that he offered to help with.

  It was all starting to become too much for her to handle, which convinced her brain that finally getting rid of that couch was for the best.

  In contrast, her heart still had yet to find a way to start mending itself. And after conversations with both her sister and her assistant, Vanessa wasn’t sure if it ever would, nor was she sure if she ever wanted it to, unless it was mended by him.

  Part Twenty

  Melanie stood in the middle of Central Park checking the time on her Dior watch.

  It was half past the hour, which meant that Nicole Sanger was late for something in which she had in fact asked for and set up to begin with.

  This didn’t really surprise her all that much, but it sure as hell didn’t stop her from being pissed off about it.

  It was bad enough that she had agreed to meet in private (though very public) with the woman who so unapologetically had been sleeping with her husband for over a year, and had more than likely started things up again the moment he ran off to tell her how he felt.

  Now she had the audacity to waste Melanie’s time by showing up late, if she had ever really planned to show up at all.

  In truth, she wasn’t even sure why she agreed to meet with Nikki in the first place. She knew there was a high chance that the outcome wouldn’t be pretty due to the ongoing circumstances. And since Nikki had never bothered to apologize for being part of the reason that her family was destroyed in the first place, she didn’t expect one to suddenly come flying out of her mouth now. Especially since she seemed to finally be getting all the things she had ever wanted – Oscar, the lead in a famous Broadway production, as well as another man who was more than willing to pay anything in order to make it happen for her, all while seeming to live in ignorant bliss. Melanie wondered how William would feel if he ever found out the truth about them. Just the look on his face would be enough sweet revenge for her, because she had no doubt that a man like William would make the both of them suffer for playing him as a fool for far too long.

  Then again, why should he have to suffer just because he decided to fall in love with someone who valued what was between her thighs more than she seemed to value other people and their feelings?

  Maybe keeping it to herself would be a better idea. Telling him wouldn’t do any good.

  Then again, what if he already knew about what was going on between Melanie and Oscar, and didn’t care? Surely after their time spent in the Hamptons, after all the fights that had taken place and awkward moments shared back and forth between the two women, as well as the longing glances shared between Oscar and Nikki, she had to tell him something about their past. Maybe he had seen something else for himself and decided to accept it for what it was as long as he could still have her too.

  But what man would do that, getting what he wanted or not? What man would stand to be trampled by a woman who claimed to love him, or so openly share him with another man, especially one as powerful as him who could get absolutely any woman he wanted from any scope of the world? The fact that he had chosen to be with someone like Nikki was something Melanie could never seem to understand.

  In her eyes, Nikki was as tainted and disgusting as they come. She couldn’t imagine what so many men, including and especially her husband, saw in her aside from a pretty face and decent figure. And maybe even that accent from time to time. Right off the bat, she could understand Maurice’s infatuation and love for Vanessa, no matter how infuriating she seemed to be throughout their entire relationship. But Nikki? That was a puzzle she had yet to solve. Not that she had any interest in ever doing so.

  When she looked down at her watch one last time, she thought about skipping out on the meeting altogether. She had other things to do that day, like spend quality time with her kids, and maybe even a little more time with Maurice if he allowed it. Even if they weren’t going to be moving past the ‘friendship stage’ any time soon, if ever, she realized after he left her standing alone on that sidewalk just an hour or so before that the last thing she wanted was to have him out of her life. Maurice was the kind of person you treasured even if all you ever received from him was a decent handshake. She was willing to stick around and continue hoping for more, but wasn’t exactly holding her breath.

  When she finally decided she had had enough of continuing to wait around for someone she had no real interest in seeing or speaking with as it was, she saw Nikki walking forward with her purse clutched in one hand and her cell phone up to her ear in the other. Convinced she was talking to none other than Oscar to tell him about their meeting and why, Melanie was about two seconds away from laying her flat on the concrete.

  And then she remembered she had kids. And a successful business. And a widespread reputation within the industry that unlike Vanessa, she couldn’t afford to tarnish so publicly.

  Crossing her arms and leaning to the side, she glared directly at Nikki until they were just a few feet away from each other.

  Nikki stopped and plastered a fake smile across her face.

  Melanie was in no mood to be pleasant and wrinkled her nose. “You’re late.”

  Nikki quickly spoke something in Spanish into the speaker of the phone before hanging up and stuffing it inside her purse. She brushed flowing strands of hair from her eyes and held on tight to her purse. Her hands were sweating so badly due to her nerves that it almost slipped to the ground.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, appearing genuine. “There was tons of traffic on the way here.”

  Melanie looked around, noticing only a handful of people passing through the park, and furrowed her brows.

  “Mm, I can see how easy it is to get held up in the crowd.”

  “I walked all the way here, Melanie, I didn’t get to take a cab like I assume you did?”

  “I don’t care if you came in from Mars or on the back of a seahorse.” She rattled her head, more aggravated in finally seeing her than before she even showed up. “I just want to know what the hell this is all about
.”

  Nikki gulped. It’s not as if she wasn’t expecting hostility from Melanie upon seeing her, it’s just that she hadn’t expected it to hit her like a violent gust of wind that could knock her down on her ass with one giant blow.

  She took a deep breath in and slowly released it, all while looking directly into the eyes of the woman married to the only man she had ever loved, eyes that burned right through to her core like pounds of acid.

  “It’s about you and me,” Nikki said, anxiously tossing her hair back as more wind circled her face. “It’s about you, and me…” She momentarily dropped her eyes, and forced herself to push out those last two words. “And Oscar.”

  Melanie felt blindsided. Sure, she was expecting something about Oscar to be mentioned, seeing as he was the only thing they had in common. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to stick around and have an actual discussion about a man she was still married to with his mistress.

  She held up her hands and started backing away. “That’s it. I have much better things to do with my time, and this sure isn’t one of them. So goodbye.” She zipped around Nikki and headed for the opposite direction.

  “Melanie, wait. Please.” Nikki followed after and skirted around in front of her. Melanie stopped, though she remained tempted to shove her out of the way. “I’m sorry for how everything has gone down between the two of you--”

  “You mean between me and my husband -- You’re sorry?”

  “Yes,” said Nikki. “I’m sorry for everything that happened while you were in LA. I’m sorry for the part I played in it…”

  In theory, Melanie probably should have just accepted the groveling for what it was, even if none of it was sincere, even if she didn’t believe it, and gone on with the rest of her day.

  But the more Nikki seemed to babble on in an attempt to make herself look like the downtrodden victim as opposed to the ‘homewrecking slut’ Melanie had proclaimed her to be, the more the woman herself started to believe that the mistress in question needed to just shut up and listen.