Destiny's Daughters

by Gwynne Forster

  He walked to the coffeemaker on the side table and poured himself a cup of black coffee. He felt a headache coming on and hoped the jolt of caffeine would offset it.

  His intercom buzzed again. He returned to his desk and pressed the flashing button. “Yes?”

  “It’s Mr. Graham.”

  “Thanks. Miles, what can I do for you?”

  “For starters, you can tell me where Ms. Armstrong is.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve been trying to reach her since yesterday so she can come in and sign her lease, but she hasn’t called back. I figured maybe you knew how to reach her.”

  Nathan clenched his jaw before speaking. “I couldn’t tell you, Miles. I know about as much as you do regarding Ms. Armstrong. I already told you, it’s not that kind of party between us.”

  “Hmm. Well, if I don’t hear from her by Monday, I’ll have to cancel the contract and return the money, something I’m loath to do, but this is business.”

  “Do what you have to do—that’s all I can tell you.”

  “This was your recommendation. If this deal falls through . . .”

  “If this deal falls through, then what?” he snapped, spoiling for a fight, someone to take his frustration out on.

  “Then I’m going to have to think twice about doing business with you if your sources are unreliable. And you know how much money I bring to you.”

  “Is that right? Is this about business or pussy?”

  “Both.”

  “Well, seems to me that you lost out on both counts.” He slammed down the phone and stormed out of his office, briefly stopping at his secretary’s desk to inform her that he would be out of the office until Monday. If there was an emergency he could be reached on his cell; if not, she could handle it. With that, he walked out.

  By the time he’d reached his beach house, he’d calmed down considerably. He went straight to the fridge and took out an icy-cold Coors and gulped it down while leaning against the kitchen counter.

  Miles was willing to use not getting with Pamela as leverage against him in doing business? He still couldn’t believe that he’d actually come out and admitted it. What in the world could Pam have possibly said or done to get Miles so twisted?

  At this point, he had no answers and trying to figure them out was only making him crazy. He’d deal with Miles if and when he had to, but whatever semblance of a friendship they had was dead.

  He tossed his empty beer bottle into the recycle bin, then went to his bedroom to change clothes before pulling out some steaks from the fridge to throw on the grill. As he seasoned the meat and put some beers on ice, he realized he was beginning to look forward to hanging out with Norman for a few hours. It would take his mind off of Pam, something he sorely needed to do.

  Nathan turned the steaks on the grill. “So how’s it been, man? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “The usual. Business is great, busy as all hell, but a good busy.” Norman chuckled, then took a swallow of beer. He looked around. “I really like it out here. Been thinking of getting a place here.”

  Nathan turned to look at him. As long as he’d known Norman, he’d been a die-hard New Yorker. He’d never thought an atom bomb could blast Norman out of his Central Park West digs.

  “You’re thinking of moving to Florida? I don’t believe it.”

  Norman nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been tossing the idea around for a while. There’s really nothing for me in New York anymore.”

  Nathan closed the cover of the grill and took a seat on the lounge chair opposite Norman. “Look, this is me, man. I know how much you love the city. I mean, even after your wife . . .” He paused. “So you want to tell me the real reason? You’re not sick or anything?” His voice rose a note in alarm.

  Norman waved off his concern. “Naw, nothing like that.” He put his beer down and rested his arms on his thighs, leaning forward. He blew out a breath and looked at Nathan. “I, uh, need to talk to you about something. Just between us. I mean, you’re the only one who wouldn’t think I needed my head examined.” He laughed nervously.

  “Well, I might, but I’d never tell you,” he joked, trying to lighten the suddenly tense moment between them. “So . . . what is it?”

  What Norman told him was the last thing he’d even think he’d hear.

  Chapter 12

  After Norman left, Nathan was barely able to sleep. The things Norman told him danced in his head, taunting him throughout the night. He didn’t want to believe it, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed true. The photo that Norman shared was the final bit of evidence.

  “This is her picture. She didn’t know I took it months ago.” Norman had opened his wallet, taken out the picture, and handed it to Nathan.

  It took all he had to hide his astonishment. It was a picture of Pam, the woman Norman referred to as Leticia Holmes.

  “Good-looking woman,” Nathan said, nearly choking. “I can see why you can’t get her out of your head.”

  Norman took the picture back, stared at it for a long time before returning it to his wallet. “I never thought I’d feel this way about any woman ever again.” He sucked in a breath. “But I haven’t told you everything.”

  What more could he possibly say? Nathan swallowed. “I’m listening.”

  “She’s a, uh, hooker.”

  Nathan nearly spit out his beer. He started to cough.

  “You okay?”

  Nathan nodded, unable to speak. He pounded a couple of times on his chest, coughed some more to buy himself some time before asking the question he didn’t really want the answer to. “Are you sure?”

  Norman nodded. “That’s how we met. I was introduced to her through a mutual friend.”

  He wanted to jump up and bust Norman in the face for making up such a vile story, but in his gut he knew it was the truth.

  “Damn, man,” he finally managed to say. “How long have you . . . known her?”

  “Almost two years. We saw each other about three times a week. I knew what she was doing . . . the other men, but . . .” He heaved a heavy, disheartened sigh. “I fell in love with her.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, exactly.”

  “I wanted to tell her how I felt, that we could put all that stuff behind us and start fresh. I wanted to marry her. The last time I saw her was the time I was going to ask her to marry me. When I woke up, she was gone—lock, stock, and barrel. Not a note or anything.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box. “I was going to give her this.” He opened the box to reveal a brilliant diamond solitaire set in platinum. “Hump, never got the chance.”

  Nathan didn’t know which way to look, what to say. A part of him still refused to believe it. There were hundreds, thousands of folks who looked alike. They said all black folks looked alike anyway. Maybe that was it. The picture of the woman was just somebody who looked like Pam. That had to be it. It had to be. After all, didn’t Miles say he’d done a thorough check on her—Pamela Armstrong, not this Leticia Holmes? Pam had a history, credit, job references. It had to be a mistake. Some macabre, twisted mistake.

  “So I came out here,” Norman was saying, jarring Nathan away from his spinning thoughts. “After so much time of not hearing from her, I tried to go over everything she’d ever said to me. Then I remembered that she’d once said, if she had the chance she’d come to Miami, the one place she’d heard so much about but had never been to.”

  Nathan’s stomach turned. It was the same thing she’d told him when they’d first met.

  “I was hoping that if I could find her, tell her how I felt, that maybe she would change her mind.” He laughed sadly. “Stupid, huh?”

  “Naw, man, it’s what you felt you needed to do. But Miami is a big place and . . .”

  “I know, I know,” he said, suddenly excited. “But last night when I was pulling up to the hotel, I saw her.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I saw her right on
the boulevard. I jumped out of the cab and called her.”

  “What did she do?” His heart pounded.

  Norman eased back down. “Nothing. She didn’t even turn around.”

  Nathan didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he felt it swoosh out of his chest. “See, what’d I tell ya? Miami is big and filled with beautiful women. You probably just thought it was her.”

  Norman shrugged. “At first I figured the same thing. But the more I ran it through my head, the more I knew that it was Leticia. She’s here. I know she is.”

  And the more Nathan ran it through his head, the more the improbable became probable. The prior night and all of Norman’s revelations dogged him all the way to the front desk of the Loew’s Hotel. He wanted to hear her tell him to his face.

  “Yes, sir. How may I help you?”

  “Can you ring Ms. Armstrong’s room, please?”

  “One moment.” The desk clerk hit some keys on the computer, frowned, and hit some more. She looked up at Nathan. “How are you spelling Armstrong?”

  Nathan nearly spat out the letters.

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry. Ms. Armstrong actually checked out last night. Can I help you with anything else?”

  “Uh, no. Thank you.”

  Confused and angry, he turned away and went back to his car. For several moments he sat there in the parking lot, trying to figure out what to do. Where had she gone?

  Miles.

  He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Miles’s office.

  “Graham and Associates. How may I direct your call?”

  “Miles Graham, please. This is Nathan Spencer.”

  “One moment.”

  Nathan held on for what seemed like forever, before the cultured voice returned to the line.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Spencer, Mr. Graham is busy. He said he would call you.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” He disconnected the call, wishing he could slam it down instead. He banged his fist against the steering wheel.

  So . . . she was gone, she was a whore, and he was the other fool who fell for her.

  Chapter 13

  Leticia stood on the deck of cruise ship Excursion as it pulled away from the Miami dock. Happy travelers waved and blew kisses to the friends and family on the boardwalk that they were temporarily leaving behind.

  The ship was en route to Aruba. She’d paid a pretty penny to purchase the last-minute ticket, but it had been worth it. She may have been able to deal with what happened to her with Felix, but she knew she could never face Nathan when he found out who she really was. And with Norman in town, it was only a matter of time.

  As the city of Miami grew distant, Leticia roamed the decks, checking out the amenities, familiarizing herself with her surroundings.

  When she reached the lower-deck level by the pool, she stopped short. Near the bar, waiting for a drink, was one of her former clients. She turned away and hurried toward her room. Obviously she couldn’t spend the duration of the trip holed up in her room. But she didn’t have the stamina to deal with Winston Barnes. He was a loud, obnoxious clod. She’d been glad to be rid of him. And now, halfway across the country and in open waters, here he was. What the hell was she going to do now?

  Leticia closed her room door and looked around. Could she actually spend the next three days trapped in this tiny space? She’d go out of her mind. But she’d been in worse situations before. The hellhole of foster care was far worse than anything she’d have to deal with for the time being. Her room on board was immaculate. She could watch movies, get room service, and have someone clean up whatever mess she made. She wouldn’t complain, just ride it out and at the first opportunity, she would be gone.

  When the boat docked in Nassau the following morning, Leticia had her bags ready. As she went along the gangplank, a crew member stopped her.

  “Miss, we will only be on the island overnight.” He looked at all the luggage she was pulling behind her on a cart.

  Leticia looked at him over the top of her sunglasses and beneath the shade of her wide-brimmed hat. “Yes, I know.” She grinned. “A lady never knows what might pop up, and I always want to be prepared.”

  “Do you need some help?”

  She looked him over: young, good-looking, virile, and she was sure by the looks he was giving her, ready, willing, and able. Hmm, a quick fling on a sandy beach—every woman’s fantasy.

  “No, thank you, handsome. Maybe some other time.” She continued on until she reached solid ground.

  She’d been to the Bahamas dozens of times and knew which hotels were the best. She’d stay at least overnight, while she figured out what her next move would be. She had plenty of cash and easy access to it, but at some point she was going to have to start bringing in some income. She looked around at all the handsome, buff men that strolled along the island paradise, each and every one who passed giving her an appraising look.

  Hmm, maybe she would stay a little longer than she planned.

  Leticia checked into the Oasis, taking a suite on the tenth floor. After getting settled, she took a short tour of the hotel, her last stop being the outside bar and café. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until she inhaled the tempting aromas of island cuisine.

  She took a table near the railing so she could look out on the beach.

  “What can I get the pretty lady today?”

  He couldn’t be more than twenty-two, with the body of Adonis, skin as smooth and rich as maple, and brilliant white teeth. Hmm, edible.

  “What do you recommend?” She looked him up and down and smiled.

  “All of our guests love our piña coladas.” He grinned.

  “Then I’ll start with that.”

  He turned and walked away, and that’s when she noticed that Mr. Handsome and Delectable had a little sugar in his tank. Oh, well.

  When he returned with her drink, she was pleasant but for the most part ignored him as she gave him her dinner order.

  While she waited, she watched the small cruise ships that went back and forth from Florida to the islands of the Bahamas. A small part of her wished that somehow, by some miracle, Nathan would put all the crazy pieces of her puzzled life together and come walking off one of the boats and they’d sail off into forever.

  She sipped her drink. Stupid, silly girl. No one is coming to rescue you. No one ever has. The only person you have ever been able to rely on is yourself. This is your life, the only life you know—so live it and stop whining.

  She finished off her drink and signaled the “sweet” waiter for another. The only one who can save you is you.

  Leticia spent the next few weeks in Nassau, wandering through the shops during the day and the nightclubs by night. But the longer she stayed, the more she realized how utterly alone she was. She watched couples, old and young, mothers with their children, sisters with the brothers, dads playing with their sons. Even strangers seemed to find a way to connect. But she . . . she had no idea what it meant to have something or someone to call your own. In her dreams she always imagined being part of a family. Sometimes she could almost see the faces of the sisters she was told she’d had. And they were happy.

  Why had they been separated? Didn’t they have anyone in the world who cared enough about three innocent baby girls to keep them together? Where were her sisters? Were they even alive? Did they have lives better than hers?

  The questions, which she struggled daily to force to the back of her head, had begun of late to rise constantly, pushing her, prodding her to answer them. But she had nowhere to begin. She didn’t even know her sisters’ names, where they lived, or even if they lived at all.

  “Are you all right, Miss?”

  She glanced up into the concerned face of an older woman with the crisscrossed lines of age and wisdom making a roadmap of her face. Her smile was gentle.

  Leticia didn’t even realize that she’d been sobbing alone at the table until the woman came up to her. She grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped her eyes and no
se. She sniffed loudly and gave an embarrassed smile.

  “I’m sorry. I . . .”

  “No need to apologize. Tears are good for the soul. Do you mind if an old lady sits down for a moment?”

  “No, please.” She was actually glad for the company. The woman would be the first person she’d had a conversation with since her arrival.

  The woman eased down into the rattan seat. “My name is Olivia. Most of the folks around here call me Livie.”

  “Nice to meet you. Leticia. Leticia Holmes.”

  The woman looked at her closely, studying her face. “I knew a woman named Holmes once. Stayed on the island for about six months. Looked a lot like you. That was one of the reasons I stopped. The resemblance.”

  Leticia’s heart began to race and she felt heat flow in waves through her body. She cleared her throat. “You met someone who looked like me?” She tried to keep her voice calm.

  Livie nodded. “You could have passed for twins, except for the chin. She was a little taller, I think, and thinner, and always had that same sad look in her eyes that you do.”

  Leticia could barely breathe. She laughed lightly so as not to scream. “Wow, how long ago was that?” She clenched her hands into fists beneath the table.

  “Hmm.” She frowned in thought. “Must be going on five, maybe six years now. I always thought she would come back, and I thought she did when I saw you.”

  Leticia’s head was spinning. “Where was she from?”

  “I sure wish I could remember. Somewhere in the states in the South.”

  “Do you remember her first name? Maybe she’s a cousin or something.” She chuckled, her nerves ready to snap.

  “Everyone around here always called her C. That’s all I remember, but she had a voice that could shake your soul.” She smiled and nodded with the memory.

  Leticia’s mind was running wild. A woman who looked enough like her to be mistaken for her. Lived somewhere in the South. Her last name was Holmes. Could it be possible, or had she become so despondent over her life that she was simply hoping for some kind of miracle?