Brickhouse
Page 3
“Der … rick.” Toni dragged out the name as if it had seven syllables.
Nona shook her head. This news did not make her day any better. “Don’t tell me that he had something to do with whatever’s in this fancy li’l envelope?” Nona said, flicking at the sealed gold package as if it were a bug crawling across her desk. “I tell you, no matter what I do, I can’t seem to get away from that man.”
“And why would you want to?” Toni grinned. “I can’t get enough of him.”
“I don’t understand you at all, Toni. After what he did to you. He’s nothing but an overbearing, pompous jerk.”
“Derrick’s company was involved with this?” Allen asked, holding up the invitation. “Damn.”
Toni laughed, and Nona rolled her eyes.
“Don’t be impressed,” Nona smirked.
Toni turned to Allen. “Don’t listen to her. Be very impressed.”
“I am. Man, he got to work with Dreamworks on this project? Derrick must be at the top of his game.”
Nona sighed at Allen’s tone, but Toni ignored her friend and continued addressing Allen.
“Derrick produced the soundtrack for the movie, and of course he’s directing all of the videos.” Toni leaned across the desk. “Do you know how many nights I pretended I wanted to help with the editing just so I could be in that man’s presence? He is so fine.” She waved her hand at her face as if she were trying to lower her body temperature.
Nona looked at her friend as if she were crazy. “I don’t care how fine he is. He’s nothing more than a fine asshole. He’s a bear to work with, and I don’t see how you can even look at him. You act as if nothing ever went down between the two of you.”
Toni slumped back in her chair and pouted.
“That’s my cue,” Allen said. “Toni, I’ll be at the premiere. Also, do you still want to do two sessions a day next week?”
She sighed, but nodded. “Of course. How else will I fit into the fabulous Vera Wang dress that the studio sent over for the premiere?” Toni waited until the door was closed before she said, “I wish you wouldn’t do that. Especially not in front of other people.”
Nona wanted to gag, but instead she softened. “I’m sorry, Toni, but you’ve got to accept that there are very few people on earth who are as bad as Derrick Carter.”
“When are you going to get over it?” Toni asked. “I have.”
“And I don’t know how. The man left you pregnant–”
Toni held up her hand and stood. “I don’t want to go over this again, Nona. I’ve moved on, and I thought you had too when you hired him again for your Central Park production.”
Nona shook her head. “He wasn’t my choice,” shesnapped, remembering how she’d fought with the marketing director against having Derrick Carter. But even though she hated the air that he breathed, Nona had to admit that his work surpassed excellent. He was the reason she’d sold fifteen million copies of the first mass-production video. It looked more like a Hollywood creation than an exercise tape. After thirteen months on the market, sales were still strong.
Toni grabbed her cape. “Well, I’m going to get out of here.” She walked to the other side of the desk and rubbed Nona’s back. “Hey, you just got home. Don’t be mad at me.”
Nona shook her head. “I’m not. I just want you to know what I know. You have too much going for you to be running after Mr. Carter like he’s the only man you could ever be interested in.”
“Honey, you know me. Don’t worry. There are too many men for me to just think about one.” She slapped Nona’s arm playfully. “I’m not serious about Derrick. I just don’t have the same problems with him that you do. I don’t mind working with egotistical, overbearing, controlling, anal perfectionists. Just as long as I look damn good on the silver screen when it’s all said and done.”
Nona twisted her lips in doubt.
Toni leaned forward and added, “And anyway, I just want to know if he still tastes as good as he looks.” She chuckled.
Nona raised her hands in exasperation. “What do you see in that man?”
“Girl, everything. Have you ever really looked at him?”
“No, he’s a repellent to me.”
Toni laughed. “Well, my hope is to add a little cream to his coffee again one day.”
Nona hesitated, then said, “You know what? Go for it, Toni. Make him feel like a king for a day. Maybe he’s changed. And if he’s good for you, maybe I’ll be able to handle him too.”
“That’s the attitude.” Toni draped her cape over her shoulders, and her smile disappeared. “Remember one thing, Nona. People are not as bad as the worst thing they’ve ever done. Derrick is a good man. He just has some commitment issues.”
Nona wanted to scream as she watched Toni walk to the door, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Suddenly Toni turned and rushed back to Nona’s desk. She leaned over and hugged her friend. “It’s good to have you home, honey. I’ve missed you. Maybe later we’ll get to talk about you. See you in class tomorrow.” With a smile and a flutter of her hand, she whisked out of the office in the same manner that she had entered.
Nona sighed. Her business issues were piled high on her shoulders, and now she had a feeling that Toni would be added to her list of concerns–if she was going to get involved with Derrick Carter again.
She shook those thoughts from her head and began to sift through the mail stacked on her desk. She opened the first envelope and scanned the letter. Another request to make Brickhouse a franchise. These solicitations constantly bombarded her–from hotels to airports, the requests poured in, asking permission to open Brickhouse gyms around the world.
She had declined all offers. Instead she had patented and trademarked the Brickhouse exercise technique. Nona’s personal program was being taught at top gyms around the country. The latest addition was Adonis Gym, which found it was losing members because it was a year behind theother national facilities like Fitness Forever and Physique International, which had long ago jumped on the Brickhouse train.
That was as far as Nona had gone. She was determined not to add anything else to her plate until her life was in order.
She laid the letter on the desk, leaned forward, and held her head in her hands. Sometimes it seemed this life was too much. But how could she complain when she was living her dream? How many people would give all they had to be all that she was? She would just manage her issues the way she did everything in her life–like a professional.
She looked at her Cartier watch and jumped up. How had the time slipped away? It was well after five. Kelly was sure to be home by now.
She stuffed the stack of mail into her bag. It was time for her to take on the most important role in her life–time for her to be a mother.
“Good evening, Ms. Simms,” the parking garage attendant said as he opened the door to her Mercedes. She stepped out. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you, Lewis. Believe me, it’s good to be back.” She handed him her keys, then walked up the slight incline that led to 138th Street. Autumn’s nighttime darkness had descended on the city, but Nona welcomed it. She feared nothing. These were her streets. People could think what they wanted about New York City and Harlem specifically, but she knew she was safe.
Nona crossed the street and trotted up the steps of her brownstone–one of the distinguished row houses that lined the street known as Striver’s Row since the late 1800s.
She balanced her briefcase and backpack in one handwhile she put her key in the door. She entered the small anteroom, then walked into the main living quarters.
“Hello,” she yelled.
“Ms. Nona.” It was Odessa’s excited voice that she heard first. “Welcome home.” The petite housekeeper put her slender arms around Nona’s neck.
Nona hugged her back, but her eyes focused over Odessa’s shoulder, peering at the top of the ornately carved, curved staircase that led to the bedrooms. The huge brownstone was more than seventy-five
hundred square feet, but Nona was sure that Kelly heard her come in.
She leaned away and smiled at her housekeeper. “How’s everything?” Nona dropped her bags by the door.
“Just fine.” Odessa picked up the bags, then followed her into the living room. “I didn’t know what time to expect you. Marco brought your bags over earlier. I assumed you were at Brickhouse?”
Nona nodded, her eyes still looking past Odessa.
Odessa leaned toward Nona and lowered her voice. “Kelly’s in her room,” the housekeeper said, as if reading Nona’s thoughts.
“Is she doing her homework?”
Odessa shook her head. “I checked on her a while ago when I heard her stereo. She finished her homework.” Odessa patted Nona’s arm. “I’m sure she’s anxious to see you.”
Nona knew that Odessa didn’t really believe what she said. “Thank you, Odessa.”
As Nona walked upstairs toward Kelly’s bedroom, Odessa called out. “I’ll fix you something to eat.”
Nona held up her hand. “I’m not hungry …” She paused. “Has Kelly eaten yet?”
“No. I have a salad for her, though. She said that’s all she wants.”
Nona shook her head. “She has to have more than that. Why don’t you broil some chicken, and I’ll eat with her.”
Odessa nodded. When she disappeared into the kitchen, Nona took a deep breath and continued up the stairs. At the top, she knocked on Kelly’s door. When there was no response, Nona entered the room.
“Hey, sweetheart, I’m home.”
Kelly was stretched across the canopy bed, lying on her stomach with her legs hanging over the edge. Even though the headphones covered her ears, Nona could still hear a bit of Usher coming through the plugs.
She walked over to the bed and tapped her daughter’s shoulder.
Kelly rolled over and smiled. “Hi, Mommy,” she said. Her tone was casual, as if she’d seen her mother that morning. She took off the headphones.
Nona held her. “Your music was so loud, you didn’t hear me come in,” she said. “I keep telling you that you shouldn’t play …” Nona paused as the smile vanished from Kelly’s face. “So, how have you been, sweetie? I missed you so much.” She squeezed Kelly’s hand.
“Fine.”
“And how’s school?”
“Fine.”
“Did you do anything special while I was away?”
“No.”
Nona lightly bit the corner of her lip. “What are you listening to?” She lifted the CD case from the bed.
“Nothing.”
“Since when did Usher become ‘nothing'?”
Kelly shrugged.
“I guess you don’t feel like talking tonight, huh?”
Kelly shook her head. “I talked to you last night on the phone.”
Nona kept her sigh inside and stood. “Well, I had a good trip, but I’m so glad to be home with you.”
Kelly glanced at her mother, then looked down. “When are you leaving again?”
Her daughter’s eyes saddened her, and Nona lowered herself back onto the bed. She pulled Kelly into her arms. “I’m going to be home for a while, honey. Isn’t that great? We’ll be able to spend quite a bit of time together.”
Kelly leaned away from Nona, but she was smiling. “Really? Do you think you’ll be home for my play? I got the part of Lady Macbeth. Remember, I told you?”
“Of course I remember.” Nona tried to recall the date that Kelly had told her and at the same time review her own schedule in her mind. But then she shook her head. “And I’ll be there.”
Kelly grinned. “That’s great. I can’t wait for you to see me. Macbeth, that’s Shakespeare, you know.”
Nona tugged at her daughter’s thick pony tail. “Maybe I can help you practice some of your lines.”
“Really? Will you have time?”
Nona smiled. “We’re going to have a lot of time together from now on.” She paused. Kelly had heard those words from her many times. “I promise,” Nona added. “And we can start with dinner. Odessa will have everything ready in about thirty minutes or so.”
“Okay, but–” Kelly stopped for a moment, letting go of her smile. “What is Odessa fixing?”
“I told her to broil some chicken.”
Kelly leaned against the bed’s headboard. “I’m not hungry, Mom.”
“You have to eat, sweetheart.”
“But I’ve been on a diet while you were away and I don’t want to break it.”
Nona wanted to scream every time she heard Kelly say the word “diet,” a word that had been coming from her daughter’s mouth since she was five. There was so much that she wanted to say, but Kelly had heard it all from her before.
Nona said, “Well, broiled chicken and a salad is very healthy.” She stopped as if she had a new idea. “You know what? I’ll have Odessa chop up the chicken into the salad. That’ll fit right into your … diet. Okay?”
It took only a moment for Kelly’s cheer to return. She nodded, then put the headphones back over her ears. “Call me when dinner’s ready,” she shouted.
Nona turned toward the door, but just as she put her hand on the doorknob, Kelly called out.
“Mommy.” She took off the headphones. “I’m glad you’re home,” she said softly before she returned the music to her ears.
Nona blew Kelly a kiss. God surely answered prayers.
two
The three louder-than-life voices of Destiny’s Child blared through the thousand-square-foot room, made to look even larger by the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that covered three walls.
But still, it wasn’t enough space for the one hundred bodies that packed the floor this Saturday morning. It was like this for every Brickhouse class that Nona led.
“Okay, now, kick,” Nona exclaimed, her voice loud through the microphone headset. “Kick, kick, kick …” She sang her instructions to the music’s beat.
“What … the hell … is her … problem?” Leila puffed to Anna, who was pounding the hardwood floor next to her. “She’s never pushed us this hard.”
“Yes, she has. You just don’t remember. She’s been gone for so long.”
“I don’t remember any pain like this.”
“Well, remember this is what we’re here for,” Anna panted. “And remember, this is a privilege, sweetie. Nona only tortures a special few.” Anna winked at her friend as she twisted her periwinkle leotard-clad torso, imitating the double side kick that Nona was doing on the raised platform in the front.
“Aren’t we the lucky ones?” Leila groaned, but then she smiled when she peeked at her reflection in the mirror. She knew she looked good in her black unitard that didn’t leave room for flaws. She twisted so that she could see herself better. Her boobs were still high, her behind, lifted, her stomach flatter than it was before she had two children. And her beauty was still natural. She hadn’t had to go under the knife–not yet.
People always gasped when they found out her real age. And they should, she thought. It took commitment to keep her thirty-one-year-old figure looking as if she were hovering closer to twenty-one. Besides her starvation methods, it was Nona’s Brickhouse techniques that kept Leila’s picture next to “svelte” in the dictionary.
It was work, but it was necessary. Marriage did not provide an exemption from having to look a certain way. In fact, being married to the New York Knicks star player, Shawn Lomax, made it worse. Leila had to compete with the groupies who swarmed her husband after every Knicks game. In bed, she often searched Shawn’s eyes, wondering if he was comparing her to the numerous women that he had screwed while married to her.
Her light green eyes moved to the mirror again. She’d always been aware of her looks. From when the girls in fifth grade chased her home because they said, “She thinks she’s cute,” until her days in high school when she had her choice of any male she wanted. Her cinnamon-tanned skin, almond-shaped eyes, and curly bronze-colored hair that fell to the middle of her back pro
vided many benefits–including an introduction, and eventual marriage to the multimillionaire basketball superstar Shawn Lomax. But not too long after they said, “I do,” Leila discovered that it was going to take much more than her trophy-wife looks tokeep her man faithful to his marriage vows. The accoutrements of the NBA lifestyle did not exactly fit with what Leila had dreamed would be her traditional marriage. She wanted a union filled with morals and values. But the money, sex, and power that came with being a famous basketball player made it almost impossible for any professional athlete to sustain a committed relationship. And Leila Lomax had seen many a marriage come and go during her wifely tenure with the Knicks.
“Come on, Leila,” Nona yelled, pulling Leila’s eyes away from the mirror and her thoughts back to the workout.
Leila sucked her teeth, but smiled inside. She knew she was blessed to be in Nona Simms’s class, even if they were best friends. Brickhouse was the only gym in the country where members were on a waiting list to renew their membership. And only members with three years’ good standing were given the chance to stand in line for Nona’s Saturday morning class.
“Come on, y’all.” Nona clapped her hands and hollered as she paced the floor, challenging her clients. “Push it.”
Leila kicked her leg higher. Her eyes roamed through the room, looking at the other gleaming bodies. She wasn’t sure if people were shimmering from sweat or from the diamonds that adorned almost every ear and most ring fingers.
Leila smiled when she saw Toni Lee planted in her usual front and center spot, with pure concentration etched on her face. Her perspiration-soaked, leopard-print midriff top and matching Daisy Duke spandex shorts fit better than her own skin. Even with her ponytail bouncing and loose strands of hair plastered to her neck, Toni looked as if she could stop at a second’s notice and pose for a layout in Playboy. After staring at her, Leila strained to kick her leg two inches higher.
“Okay, people. Hit the floor.”
Moans followed Nona’s demand–the same ones that always came when Nona’s signature abdominal drills were about to begin. Brickhouse’s theme song played loudly through the Bose speakers.