“Hi, it’s Margot calling from La Bella. The dresses you ordered last week came in. Great, we’ll see you soon.” The statuesque, overly tanned brunette with a mod-styled Mohawk hung up the telephone and busied herself behind the counter.
Alex had just finished dressing the display windows with some of the newly arrived merchandise. “What do you think?” She held a brightly colored Italian silk scarf against her blouse and turned toward the woman at the counter.
“I like. It looks good on you.”
“I’m actually thinking about buying it for my mother. Her birthday’s next week.”
“Adriane, she’s going to love it.”
Alex smirked and glanced at the price tag of the scarf. “Three hundred dollars. On second thought, maybe I better wait until it goes on sale.”
The woman laughed. “Hey, do you think you can handle things around here for a while? Celeste called and she’s still in that meeting in L.A. She asked me to take these receipts to the bank before noon.”
“Sure. No problem. Go ahead.”
The woman grabbed her purse and a stack of bank receipts and started toward the door. “I’m gonna stop at Jamba Juice on the way back. Do you want me to pick you up anything?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Oh, and there’s a customer coming in to pick up some dresses she ordered last week. They’re marked in a bag in the back.”
“No problem. I’ll take care of it.”
The woman breezed out of the store and Alex made her way over to assist a customer rifling through a rack of skirts. “May I help you with anything?”
“I love this color. Do you have it in a sixteen?”
Alex pressed her lips together and sized up the woman, who was obviously much larger than she admitted to. Still, she didn’t want to take her question for granted and decided to be tactful. “Is it going to be for you or a gift for someone else?”
“No, I’m buying it for me.”
Alex assisted the woman with her futile search, knowing full well that, other than accessories, La Bella didn’t cater to fuller-figured clientele.
“Ma’am, may I recommend a few other stores that I’m certain will have what you’re looking for? I’d be happy to call ahead for you.”
The woman gave Alex the once-over. “Are you insulting me?”
“No, ma’am. I just thought—”
“You thought what?”
A bell clattered on the door and another patron entered, allowing Alex an escape. “Excuse me for minute.” She turned and rolled her eyes. “Hi, welcome to La Bella.”
“I got a call from Margot. She told me that some dresses I ordered had come in.”
“Margot stepped out for a while, but I’d be happy to help. Can I get your name?”
“Lorraine Chase.”
“Chase?”
“That’s right. Lorraine Chase.”
“I’ll um . . . I’ll go get your things from the back.” Alex’s heart raced as she made her way to the back of the store. This can’t be John’s wife, she thought. There’s got to be more than one Lorraine Chase in Pasadena.
She peered through the curtain separating the stock room from the rest of the store and watched curiously as the pristine redhead moved about, holding various items up to herself in front of a full-length mirror. Finding the dresses that had been set aside, Alex couldn’t resist opening the bag to check out the woman’s purchases.
“Size four. Bitch.”
Alex quickly zipped the bag back up and carried it out to the counter. The trendy female joined her, plopping down various accessories she wanted to add to her purchase; among them was the Italian scarf Alex had admired earlier. “Can I help you find anything else?”
The woman opened her wallet to retrieve her credit card. “No. I think I have everything.”
Alex caught a glimpse of a photograph of John that confirmed that this was indeed the Lorraine he was married to. She forced a smile and her throat constricted as she bagged the other accessories and handed the woman back the card. “Thanks for coming in. Have a nice day.”
“You too.”
All the fantasies that Alex allowed herself to entertain with regard to John seemed to sashay out the door with his wife. Knowing that he was married was one thing. Putting a face to the life he had outside of protecting hers was quite another.
An hour later Alex’s coworker Margot returned. “Sorry that took me a little longer than I thought it was going to. Did Celeste ever come in?”
“Not yet,” Alex responded.
“Did Mrs. Chase come by?”
“Yes. She did indeed.”
“There wasn’t a problem was there?”
“No. No problem. She came in, got her order, bought some other pieces, and left.”
“Other than that has it been very busy?”
“Nothing that I couldn’t handle.”
The woman slurped the rest of her drink from its container before tossing it into a trash can behind the register. Alex finished folding a stack of assorted cashmere sweaters and announced that she would be taking her break.
“Oh, Adriane, before you go, I almost forgot to ask. What are you doing tonight?”
“No big plans,” Alex responded. “Why?”
“There’s this new club that just opened in North Hollywood that I’ve been dying to go to. Are you interested in coming with?”
“No. I’m not really the club type.”
Margot cocked her head coyly. “Seriously, because you seem like a lot of fun.”
“Well, I’m not ready for a retirement home or anything, but I do have other responsibilities.”
“You mean your kid?”
“Yeah,” Alex responded. “I like spending time with . . . my kid.”
“Aw, c’mon. It’s Thursday and you’re off tomorrow. When’s the last time you let your hair down and let yourself go?”
“I don’t know, Margot. I don’t really feel like letting myself go.”
“Oh, I get it. There’s a guy, right?”
“No, there’s no guy.”
“Then c’mon, it’ll be fun. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet a guy. Hell, maybe you’ll meet more than one.”
Alex thought about what her mother said, and everything she’d been feeling for John, and coming face to face with Lorraine Chase, and decided to take the woman up on her offer. “Okay . . . fine. I’ll go.”
“Great. I promise you’ll have a good time.”
“But, I’m driving my own car. That way I can leave when I want to.”
“Absolutely. I don’t have a problem meeting you there.”
“What’s the name of this place anyway?”
“It’s called Bricks.”
“It’s not a gay bar is it?”
“No. Of course not.” Margot flicked her French-tipped nails through the spiky fringe of her coif. “Oh, wait . . . do you think I’m a lesbian?”
“No, Margot, I don’t think you’re a lesbian.”
“Good. Because I can promise you that nothing makes me happier than a good stiff cock . . . tail.” She laughed. “I just thought you might want to hang out, that’s all.”
Alex smiled. “I haven’t had a good stiff one in a long time. Sounds like just what I need.”
Alex swept her hair into an up-do, allowing a few loose tendrils to cascade down the side of her face and neck. For the first time in a long time she felt a little lighthearted as she found a revealing strapless black and silver micro mini designer original hanging in the back of her closet that she’d all but forgotten she had from her former life. The last time she’d worn it was for a party she planned for a hip-hop mogul back in Atlanta. Fortunately, she hadn’t held on to any baby weight, so she was able to shimmy seamlessly into it and back into the remnants of the old Alex again: vivacious, sexy, and desirable. She rechecked her makeup and spritzed on Desire before sliding into a pair of stilettos that accentuated her legs to complete the look.
“Well, now, Cerena will
you get a look at your mother.” Jamilah beamed as she entered Alex’s room. “You look amazing, daughter.”
Alex smiled as she checked herself out in the mirror. “I feel amazing, Mama. I remember this woman.”
“As do I.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind taking care of Cerena tonight?”
“Not at all. I’m going over to Ernie Mae’s with the rest of the girls to play cards. This little one will more than likely be out like a light by seven or so.”
“Well, if anything happens you call me and I’ll come right back.”
“Nothing is going to happen. We’ll be fine. You just go on and have a good time.”
Alex grabbed her clutch and wrap and kissed her mother’s cheek and then kissed Cerena. “Thanks, Mama. I won’t be out that late.”
“Don’t worry about anything here. Stay out for as long as you like.”
Bricks was among the flashiest nightclubs in the San Fernando Valley area that dotted Lankershim Boulevard in North Hollywood (NoHo as it was referred to by the locals). Like most new hot spots it had quickly become the happening place to be. Alex navigated up to her place in the line of cars and waited for the valet; the velvet rope, the beefy bouncers at the door, the air of celebrity all reminded her of grander days. Once she entered the club she wandered around looking for Margot, who had promised to be waiting near the door at the designated time. She wasn’t.
Alex made her way to the bar. “I’ll have Grey Goose with a twist of lime.”
“I gotcha.” The bartender winked and smiled.
One of the best things about bars in California was that smoking was prohibited. Alex had no worry about going home smelling like an ashtray. Just as she got her drink and took a sip she heard her name being screamed through the crowd over the volume of music.
“Adriane!”
She turned and saw Margot pushing through and headed toward her, dragging a man behind her who could have been a Ryan Gosling lookalike. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was so backed up on the 134. Damn, girl, you look great,” Margot shrieked. “I love that dress. You look totally hot!”
Alex smiled. “Thanks.”
“For somebody who doesn’t go to clubs you sure know how to pull it together.”
The man standing with her smiled salaciously. “Margot, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Oh, yeah, Zach, this is Adriane. She’s the one I was telling you about. She thought I was a lesbiiiiaan.”
Judging by the slur of her words it appeared that Margot already had a drink or two.
Alex ignored her comment and extended her hand to the man. “Nice to meet you, Zach.”
“Nice to meet you too.” The man held on to Alex’s hand a little too long. She was uncomfortable feeling his index finger massaging her palm, and wrested it away.
Margot leaned in closer to her. “Hey . . . you want a bump?”
“A bump?”
“Coke. You want some?”
Alex shook her head. “No. I’ll pass.”
“C’mon . . . this is some really quality shit.”
“I don’t think so.”
The man caressed Alex’s bare shoulder. “You don’t know what you’re missin’.”
Alex pulled away. “I have some idea, and I’m not interested.”
“I think Zach likes you,” Margot cooed. “We should really have some fun. Have you ever been part of a ménage à trois?”
Alex chuckled. The irony of Margot’s enticement wasn’t lost considering her prior denouncement of being a lesbian. She was no prude. In another life she had been a little more sexually uninhibited. But she didn’t think getting it on with a coworker and her movie idol–looking boyfriend was the sort of thing Adriane should be doing. “Why don’t you guys go ahead. I’ll sit this one out.”
“Suit yourself. C’mon, Zach, let’s dance.”
As Alex watched the two go off to the dance floor she thought that it was funny how you really don’t get to know the people you work with until you see them in a social setting.
“Friends of yours?” the bartender queried.
“Um . . . ‘friends’ is debatable.” Alex laughed again.
The bartender turned to tend to other customers and Alex curiously continued to check out the crowd. David Guetta and Akon’s aptly titled “Sexy Bitch” reverberated through the club and sent the revelers into a frenzy of twisting and sexually energized thrusts. A few minutes later the bartender returned and set another drink down in front of Alex.
“Courtesy of the gentleman at the end of the bar,” he noted.
Alex glanced down the length of the bar and as the strobe lights flashed across the man’s face and reflected off the mirrored walls she was stunned to see who she thought was Xavier Rivera raising his glass to her. Clearly spooked, she jumped off the stool, not looking back, and bolted for the exit. The more people who crowded in on her the more claustrophobic she felt as she frantically pushed through. She couldn’t get to the door fast enough. When she got outside she got the attention of one of the bouncers.
“Lady, what is it?”
“Please, you have to help me. There’s a man in there who wants to kill me.”
“What?”
Alex instantly realized how insane she sounded. The brawny bouncer moved her aside and looked through the throng of people passing into the club. Alex’s hands shook as she rifled through her bag to find the parking ticket for her car to give to the valet.
“Are you sure there’s somebody after you?” the bouncer asked. “You’re not high on somethin’ are you?”
“No, I’m not high dammit. I know what I saw,” Alex responded. “Please. I just need to get out of here.”
The valet ran to get her car while she waited, cowering behind a man as thick as a linebacker. When the valet finally pulled up Alex jumped in and sped off without offering a tip.
It felt like she couldn’t breathe from the time she left North Hollywood until she pulled up at her house in Monrovia. No one had followed her. It was just after nine-thirty and the street was quiet. She exited the car and bolted into the house. Neither Jamilah nor the baby was there. She looked across the street to see that the lights were on at the Hudson house and surmised that Jamilah must still be there playing cards. She called her up to be sure, calming herself before she spoke.
“Hi, Mama . . . No . . . No . . . I just got home. I had a headache and the club was just too loud. Is everything okay over there? Cerena is sleeping. Good. No. Take your time. Have fun.” After speaking to Jamilah she instinctively dialed John but hung up before it rang. She took a deep breath and lay back on the sofa. “It wasn’t Rivera. It couldn’t have been him.”
6
Dresses lay crumpled on the dressing room floor of Lorraine Chase’s large walk-in closet. Shoes were scattered haphazardly. She felt as nervous as she did the first time John asked her out. She needed for everything to fall into place tonight if she planned on seducing him back into their bed. It was silly, she thought, trying to capitalize on her daughter’s moment. After all, how romantic could the sight of twelve five-year-old girls prancing around on stage in tulle and crinoline be? She had to find the right look that wouldn’t make her appear too eager. Her seduction should be pointed, but subtle. John was no fool. After changing more times than a runway model she tried on a form-hugging skirt and blouse with a plunging neckline, but it was going to take more than revealing cleavage to win him over. The only real weapons in her arsenal were their children. He would do anything for them; that much she was sure of.
Chloe stood excitedly at the window, waiting to see her father’s truck. “Mommy, come on,” she squealed.
John pulled into the driveway and Chloe dashed out to meet him. He hoisted her in his arms and kissed her. “You guys ready?”
He looked up and saw Lorraine at the door. She’d settled on a less obvious skirt and a lightweight knit sweater that accentuated the blue in her eyes.
“Did you get th
e camcorder?”
She held it up. “I got it right here.”
“Where’s John Michael?”
“I’m coming,” the boy shouted as he bounded down the steps with little thought to his broken arm.
“Slow down, John Michael,” Lorraine cautioned him. She handed the camcorder to John and turned to lock up the house. “Do you want to take the Jag?”
“I wanna ride in Dad’s truck,” John Michael insisted.
“Me too,” Chloe chimed in.
“There’s room,” John said. “Why don’t we all ride together?”
Lorraine nodded agreeably. As far as she was concerned, as long as they were in the same space they could have taken public transportation to the school.
Once they made it to the auditorium Chloe found her teacher and the other girls and dashed off to get ready. Lorraine carried her head a little bit higher as she and John strolled inside. She smiled and waved at the other mothers she was sure had been cattily discussing the state of her union behind her back. If she could have reached out to take John’s arm to show their solidarity she would have.
Barbara Mitchell, John’s mother, was already seated when she noticed him and John Michael. Her youthful countenance and shapely figure gave little away of her fifty-plus years. Her eyes lit up and she waved, signaling that she’d saved seats for them. They exchanged hugs before settling in. Barbara glanced over at Lorraine, nodded, and smiled disdainfully. It was the kind of interaction that only a mother would give to the woman who had hurt her son.
The conversational chatter in the auditorium hushed twenty minutes later when the lights dimmed. The overture rose from the orchestra pit and Lorraine settled back, basking in her small triumph as the curtain went up. Chloe may have been the lead of Becket Academy’s presentation of Swan Lake, but it was Lorraine’s performance that would win the day . . . with everyone except her disapproving mother-in-law.
After the show John took them all out for ice cream; his mother chose not to go. Despite that, he and Lorraine found common ground as they raved about Chloe’s dancing. By the end of the night Chloe had worn herself out and fell asleep on the way home. John carried her up to bed while Lorraine saw to John Michael. When John came back downstairs Lorraine had taken the liberty of fixing him a drink.
Avenging Alex Page 5
