Bradley & Naomi, ...To Me & You (Vodka & Vice, the Series Book 2)

by Skrzypczak, Kathleen Hesser

  “But that was different, Bradley wasn’t doing anything wrong. You were wrong Naomi.”

  Coffee comes, we stir, and add sugar, and think.

  She leans against my arm and grins, “He showed me the ring.”

  “What?”

  “Bradley, he showed me the ring he was going to give you, until you ruined it by kicking him out.”

  I can’t breathe, was it true, was Bradley actually going to ask me to marry him? I take a giant swallow and cough, “Holy shit, what’s in here?”

  “Shhh, just whiskey. Ya know darling, your mother was no saint herself.”

  Oh God, the blows just keep coming.

  “Her and that other man.”

  I drop my cup, almost spilling the hot liquid all over myself.

  “What other man?”

  “That, blonde, younger than her, a lover.”

  “You’re kidding me? After all that screaming about Dad’s whore, she was seeing someone?”

  “Yes, and they were up to no good, those two plotted.”

  “Who was he, you know his name?”

  “Crawford, no, I’m thinking of the actor…Broderick. His last name was Broderick.”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  Lorraine notices my shaky hands, my pale face, and she switches topics like a Gulf breeze in Cancun.

  “Did I ever tell you about my first musical in forty-seven with Phil Silvers, High Button Shoes?”

  I guzzle my whiskey with a dash of coffee, and try to think, but all I can see is a mixture of Bradley’s disappointed face, Viktor’s dark passionate stares, and an image of Lorraine kicking high in some back row.

  Hours later, with the sun coming up and reflecting against all the glass, we leave, walking together silently, arm in arm, like sailors, after a decadent night on the town.

  Finally, I can see our building ahead.

  We enter the hot lobby and the doorman Gus greets us. Is the poor man ever off duty?

  “Good morning ladies, glad to see ya are safe.”

  “Why wouldn’t we be safe, you silly man,” Lorraine chuckles, patting his arm.

  “Well, your dark Russian, Mr. Slotzky has been pacing the streets for hours looking for you Miss Naomi. Not for nuthin’ but he don’t look so good. I don’t wanna overstep or nuthin’ but if I was you, I’d go talk to the poor guy.”

  I sigh. Well, at least he cares about me, misses me. Bradley just left last night as if he couldn’t stand the sight of me anymore. I hug Lorraine and Gus too; then jump on an opening elevator.

  “Night darlings,” I smirk at them both, and then wink as the door closes behind me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bankrupt

  BRADLEY

  Wednesday, February16th

  Back at Manny’s I take a blistering shower that lasts almost forty-five minutes. Not only do I need to get warm, I want to wash off the vibes of last night. Naomi’s accusations, Viktor’s suspicion, Natalia’s lust, scrub it away. I’m hoping Manny has some coffee in the kitchen. I spent my last forty bucks at Ellen’s and on the Uber home and my paycheck for the ice rink shoot hasn’t been cut yet. I literally have no money. I pull on a pair of dark wash Dsquared2 slim fits and an Irish fisherman’s sweater I snagged from the storage room at the agency. At least my clothes are rich. Now I just have to figure out how to get the rest of my stuff from Naomi’s. Warm at last, I pad into the kitchen and make myself a double espresso, flip through my messages. There’s a couple of numbers I don’t recognize, a few calls from Ronnie, probably about that phantom paycheck. I hit the playback arrow.

  “Bradley, bubbela, call me. There’s a little hold up with your check from the Times. Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours. Ronnie’s on it. I have people. Now, I have something else you might be interested in. It’s a TV gig. Reality, I think, called Model House. You heard of it? Call me and I’ll tell you all about it. One of their cast members just dropped out or something. It sounds like you’d be absolutely perfect to fill in, same look, same vibe? Anyway, call your auntie Ronnie. Oh yeah, by the way, did you happen to borrow a couple of things from storage? Ja’Quan is pissed.”

  Great.

  Manny finally wakes up around noon. There are at least four fur coats draped over the living room chairs, but no signs of their owners. Manny, naked, walks into the kitchen, scratching his belly. “Hey bruh,” he croaks out. He makes an espresso and stands in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Damn that’s a lot of snow.”

  “Tell me about it. I walked ten blocks in it last night, just to get kicked in the nuts.”

  “I wouldn’t walk one block for that.” He shadow boxes me a little, tries to get me to smile. I don’t want to talk about it so I change the subject.

  “How many you got in there?” I nod toward the bedroom.

  Manny grins. “Enough.”

  “Hey can I borrow a few bucks till I get paid?” I hate to ask him for money. My mother would give it to me if I went crawling back. Fat chance.

  “Homes, I’d love to loan you some green, but I’m turned out right now too.” He looks genuinely sad. We stand in silence for a few minutes and then Manny gets this look on his face like he’s onto something. He goes over to the furs and starts digging through the pockets, pulling out twenties and a few hundreds, all crumpled up.

  “Dude,” I half-whisper, “we can’t steal from them.”

  He hands me around three hundred dollars and keeps the rest for himself.

  “Don’t worry about it. They were so wasted last night, they won’t know what happened. I’ll tell them we were mugged. Believe me, they won’t miss it. You think girls like that ever pay for anything ever?” He laughs. As soon as he leaves, I stuff the bills back into the coats, trying to distribute it as best I can. I’m still a gentleman. He returns from the bedroom fully dressed and wreaking of sex. “Let’s go get some free Mexican Food,” he says, throwing me my coat.

  “What about the girls?” I ask.

  “They’ll figure it out.”

  After brunch, I’m stuffed. I leave Manny at the apartment and decide to go for a walk. I haven’t been to the gym in over a week. Maybe I should do Model House. Nothing more motivating to stay in shape than being surrounded by perfect bodies and eight-pack abs. And then it hits me like a fifty-pound kettle bell: Viktor is the drop out. He’s probably planning on staying with Naomi so he doesn’t need the gig anymore. He Freaky Fridayed me, switched our lives right under my nose. I stop dead in the middle of Ludlow St. There’s still not much traffic, especially down here in this part of town with all the tiny streets and dead ends. I hear the scrape of shovels; breathe in the nickel-scented air. I hear one name over and over in my head: Chase. If it weren’t for him, I’d be married or at least engaged to Naomi, laughing about crazy work stories over drinks, eating her awesome dinners, still curling up next to her every night. Probably have a dog. A friggin’ adorable mutt we rescued from some shelter. I’d name him Bob Barker.

  Get a hold of yourself, Brad, I think, shake my head. I pull out my phone and tap Naomi’s number. To my surprise, she picks up on the second ring.

  I start before she can even say hello. “Listen, I don’t know why or how, but I’m convinced this Chase character, there’s something not right about him. I know you don’t want to see me right now, but if you think of anything—anything at all that might help me find him, please tell me.”

  There’s a long silence, then the phone goes dead. My heart drops. She must have answered it by accident. A couple walks by me, holding hands. I want to push them into the slush. Stupid happy people. Then, my phone pings. Under Naomi’s name is one word: gym.

  Chapter Twelve

  Viktor, just stop

  NAOMI

  Wednesday, February 16th

  I’m so tired; I practically fall over the threshold only to land in strong arms.

  “KuKu! What’s happened to you?”

  Oh Lord, I should have gone to Lorraine’s loft. I don’t have the e
nergy for this now.

  “I’m beat Viktor, let me go to bed, alone.”

  I try to pull free, but he picks me up, carries me into the bedroom, and gently lays me on the cold sheets. I shiver and he lays on top of me and hugs me tight.

  “Viktor, no sex, I need to sleep,” I mutter trying to breathe.

  “I was worried, where did you go?”

  “Just walked.”

  “Did you and Bradley leave together?”

  “No,” I snort, “he left first.”

  “I’m not sure I believe you. I saw the way my old bro looked at you.”

  “Viktor, just stop, okay? Please, I need to sleep.”

  “Your boss, that asshat Broderick called. He said you should stay home today, he’s closing the office this week.”

  “Thank God.”

  I just start to doze when I feel hands running up my legs, and I struggle, until I realize Viktor is just removing my boots.

  “Viktor, thank you.”

  “I want to take care of you KuKu. I realize I was wrong. Too much drink and pot, you don’t like it, I can change.”

  “I can’t be around it all Viktor, it’s too much.”

  I try to move, but he is removing the rest of my clothes and I let him, he pulls one of his T-shirts over my head and kisses me.

  “Don’t leave me, make me move out. I like it here, with you. I act badly with you, like I do with my Russian whores. You are different. I will be better.”

  The last thing I want to think about is Viktor’s Russian whores, several of whom, could be in Bradley’s bed right now.

  My iPhone rings and Viktor grabs it out of my purse, looks at the screen and shouts, “Why is Bradley calling you?”

  Viktor answers and listens. I can hear Bradley’s voice speaking.

  “Listen, I don’t know why or how, but I’m convinced this Chase character, there’s something not right about him. I know you don’t want to see me right now, but if you think of anything—anything at all that might help me find him, please tell me.”

  Viktor holds the phone against my face, but I refuse to speak, after a long silence, he hangs up the phone.

  “What is going on Naomi?” Viktor growls. “Who is Chase, why does Bradley care?”

  I refuse to fight when I can barely hold my eyes open, and my head is spinning from coffee whiskey. I snatch my phone out of his hand before he can stop me, and text Bradley one word: gym.

  “What are you doing? How do you two know this Chase?”

  I roll over and mutter into the pillow.

  He lays down beside me and pulls me close.

  “Are you seeing a man named Chase?”

  I punch him in the ribs with my elbow and hiss, “No. Viktor, just stop.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chase, wild goose

  BRADLEY

  Wednesday, February16th

  There’s that one word: gym. I keep staring at the screen. Three letters Naomi types after she hangs up on me. Or did she? What if he’s there with her, right now? What if that’s why she couldn’t talk? I wonder if he’s blackmailing her or something. Nah. I’ve been watching too much CSI. But still, there’s something weird about her hanging up and just texting me. I could have sworn I heard a man’s voice in the background. She seemed pretty pissed at Viktor, so I doubt it’s him. I text her back.

  Hey, what’s going on? U ok?

  While I wait, I head west, toward her place. There’s only two gyms she could be talking about. CrossFit and the one in her building. As I get closer, I check my phone, but no answer. I’m thinking about seeing that blond guy, first at the gym, then at Molly’s and later, skulking around the entrance to the loft. That must have been the new bohemian Naomi I saw him watching. Jesus. Who is this guy? Is this ‘Chase’? My head’s swimming with images of him, conspiring with Molly, whispering lies to Naomi. But why? Why us?

  I stand and watch the building from across the street. Guess I hope I’ll get lucky and the dude will just be sitting in front, waiting for me. Instead, I see Gus, catching a smoke by the curb. Just go ask him. I’m about to head over to him, when I see someone come out of the building. Even this far away I can see it’s Viktor, he’s hard to miss. I duck around the corner, feeling kind of stupid. He’s still my oldest friend but something about that look he flashed me last night stops me. I’ve seen what he does to people—even friends and family—that cross him. He goes over to Gus. I see them talking and Viktor slips something into Gus’s hand. He grins big and tips his hat to him, like they’re in an old movie. Viktor claps Gus on the back so hard he loses his balance and tips forward a little, then he hails a cab and is off.

  I wait a few minutes before heading over; try to come up with some way to get him to let me into the gym. I’m regretting the small tip I gave him last Christmas.

  “Hey Gus, my man, what’s the good word?” I shout as I approach.

  He’s not having any of it. In his thick New Yawk accent he yells back, “Whadda YOU want? Miss Naomi already has another one. She don’t need any a yer baloney no more.”

  “Aw, Gus, come on, don’t be that way,” I try.

  “Mr. Slotsky takes good care a her. His stuff ain’t gonna end up in storage like yours,” he assures me, sizing me up. “In fact, he wants me to keep an eye on her while he goes to take care of a few things. Says she’s not s’posed to be disturbed.” He furrows his considerable brows in my direction.

  “Now, Gus, I’m sure Viktor didn’t mean me. He’s my oldest friend.”

  “Nobody, no how, no way. That was his orders.”

  “Since when do you take orders from anyone?” I ask. He never did anything I asked him to do. I see him patting his breast pocket absentmindedly and I realize Viktor must have paid him. Shit.

  “Why don’t you move along Mr. Bradley? I’ll tell Miss Naomi you stopped by.”

  The hell you will. Then I have an idea. “I didn’t really come to see Naomi anyway.” I smile reassuringly. “I just came to get some of my stuff. You know, clear it out of your way.” He eyes me up and down like I’m a used carpet salesman.

  “Alright, ya got ten minutes. I can’t leave my post, but here’s the keys to storage. He holds them an extra beat, looking me straight in the chin. Ten. Minutes. Tick tick tick.” He drops them in my hand and opens the door for me. Still the professional. As I head inside, the familiar scent of the lobby punches me in the gut. My place and upstairs is my girl. No time to waste on memory lane. Just before the door slams behind me, I hear Gus yelling, “Watch out for the rats.” Which ones?

  I head in the direction of storage, look behind me to make sure Gus isn’t staring in the window, and cut left instead. I’m heading for the gym. Before I can reach the door, the smell of rubber and sweat hits my nostrils. I can hear weights clanking and men grunting. I try the door. Locked. I forgot about the key cards. My watch says I’m down two minutes with eight to go. I wait, think about knocking, when the door flies open and two bald men, one white, one black, come out laughing. One of them grabbing the other’s ass. They seem to hardly notice me, but hold the door anyway and I slip in. Now what? Tick tick tick. A quick glance around tells me Chase isn’t there. There are a few mommy types punishing the baby weight off their bodies on the treadmills, an older guy pumping iron old school. A small group is practicing yoga on a circle of mats in the corner. There’s no time to interview them all, no time for any finesse. I go for it.

  “Anyone in here know a blond guy named Chase?” I shout. Everything stops. A few people shake their heads at me, others ignore me as only New Yorkers can. I might as well be a subway preacher shaking a box of coins at them. “It’s really important,” I add. Oh great. I have about a minute left before Gus gets suspicious and ‘leaves his post’. I guess I’ll have to try CrossFit. I’m about to go when the old dude puts down his barbells and walks over to me. He leans in real close and I can smell his hair pomade, like he’s just been to the barber.

  “Who wants to know?” He rasps int
o my chest. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so damn tall.

  That’s when I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Does this LOOK like storage, SIR?” Gus. “Whaddya think? I was born yesterday? C’mon, let’s go.” For a little guy, he’s surprisingly strong and I feel myself being pulled out into the hallway. The old man’s still standing there, slowly shaking his head from side to side. He yells after us, “You better be really sure you want to find him, kid, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

  Gus bum rushes me out to the street and slams the door behind me, which I thought was kind of unnecessary. I try texting Naomi again but she’s still not answering. I head for the subway back to Manny’s. I need a drink. And free Mexican food. And help from the luckiest man I know.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Get out fast

  NAOMI

  Wednesday, February 16th

  I wake up at two in the afternoon, relieved to see Viktor is gone. Then I feel guilty. He is so kind to me, when he’s not too drunk. But that hot temper, I can’t tell Viktor about Bradley and our past romance without backup. I don’t know him well enough to be certain how he’ll behave. He might take me down to Tattoo Inc. and have his name inked over my breasts while I lay helpless, wrapped in Russian bandanas and beads.

  I have to talk to someone. I discarded any close female friends when Bradley and I became an item. We only had time for each other. Now I wish I had just one person who could help me figure out what to do about Darren Broderick, my job, my mother’s past, and that liar Chase. What if I ran into him again, what would he do? Maybe I could play dumb, get more information.

  I take a fast shower, do my hair, and get dressed while I mentally plan. I have to get out of here before Viktor returns. New York City is still in deep snow, so I toss out any thought of wearing sexy peasant dresses and put on the dark jeans, the red striped top, and brown fur vest Viktor gave me. My boots are marked with salt lines, damn city streets, but I wear them anyway, and add thick, sexy makeup. If I run into Chase, I want to look hot enough to flirt with him and have him respond.