Misty (5 page)

Her mother's Trinidadian relatives were friendly enough, but thinking that all Americans were rich, they had more interest in getting money from Anya than in actually getting to know her. After only a week in her mother's birthplace, Anya packed up and returned to Indianapolis, Indiana. She needed to regroup and recharge in familiar surroundings before resuming the search for her father in Philadelphia. This time, instead of physically pounding the pavements of Philly, she'd hire a private investigator to do the legwork. It wasn't that she minded putting in the labor, but being back in Philly would be a torturous reminder of Brick and the love she'd lost.

As far as she knew, Brick had turned himself in and was doing time. Then again, he could have patched things up with his wife and resumed life as a married man. In either case, Brick had made it clear that the love she thought they shared was nothing more to
him than convenient sex, and he urged her to move on and find true love. As far as Anya was concerned, she'd already found everything she needed in Brick, and she wasn't interested in looking any further. Their lovemaking had been so intense, and her feelings for him were so passionate, the memories of their time together would sustain her.

It wasn't wishful thinking that led Anya to believe Brick had feelings for her that were more powerful than a mere sex connection. When he looked at her for the last time, there was unmistakable love in his eyes. Still, she had to respect his wishes and leave him alone, and for that reason, she didn't allow herself to check the online inmate database to find out if he was locked up. Though she was tempted, she didn't call the hospital to find out if Misty was dead or alive, either. Brick and the people he was attached to were none of Anya's concern.

Hopefully, the money she'd stealthily tucked inside his bag would be put to good use. Good lawyers weren't cheap, and Brick deserved better than a public defender if he had indeed, ended up in jail.

Anya's old neighborhood in Indianapolis seemed more riddled by drugs and crime than when she'd left. Having more than enough money to live in a safe environment, she moved in a furnished, luxury apartment in downtown Indianapolis. At the mall one day, she'd bumped into Natalie, an old acquaintance from high school, and reluctantly agreed to go with Natalie to the hottest new club in the area.

Clubbing was the last thing on Anya's mind, but it was time to get out and try to have some fun. At twenty-one, she was too young to be alone in her apartment night after night. Besides, she had yet to wear any of the pieces in her overflowing wardrobe, and it was time to show off some of her designer clothes.

Driving her new Audi, she honked the horn in front of Natalie's house in the 'hood. Natalie's house was neglected with yellowed window shades. The front of the house looked like a dumping ground. A trash can was toppled over with rubbish and scraps spilling out on the tiny, dirt-patch lawn that was surrounded by a sagging and rusted metal fence. Broken beer bottles and crushed soda cans littered the front of the house, and an evening breeze blew empty cellophane bags around the yard as if they were fallen leaves.

Natalie came out of the rundown house and navigated around the trash and debris as she headed for Anya's car. Having known hard times, Anya gave Natalie a sympathetic smile and said, “Hey, Natalie.”

“Is this your car?” Natalie exclaimed, obviously impressed.

Anya nodded and blushed, a sort of apology for doing so much better than Natalie.

Patting the leather upholstery, Natalie said, “You ballin', girl!”

“Not really,” Anya muttered as she cruised to their destination. Though her eyes were on the road, she could see from her peripheral vision that Natalie was observing her intensely, starting with her ombre-colored, short, stylish hair, down to her red bottom stilettos.

“Looks like you been making moves,” Natalie commented. “Everything about you smells like money. Are you hooked up with a big-time hustler? If so, you need to put me on with his second-in-command.”

Anya chuckled softly. “No, I'm not hooked up with anyone. I know how to get bargains when I shop,” she said, downplaying her luxe lifestyle.

“You need to take me along on your next shopping trip. I'm
hitting up the club wearing clothes from Wal-Mart while you look like you shopped on Rodeo Drive.”

Natalie had an amusing way of expressing herself and Anya laughed again.

“I'm serious. I can't compete with you tonight.” Natalie shook her head in defeat.

Anya glanced at Natalie's cheap clothes and bad weave that looked like it had taken only fifteen minutes to put in. Life had not treated Natalie very kindly. “We're about the same size, so the next time we go out, I'll let you borrow something from my closet,” Anya offered.

“Cool, I only wish you had told me I could rock something from your wardrobe before you picked me up.”

“Next time, I promise,” Anya said as she drove around the crowded lot looking for a parking spot.

Natalie perused the parking lot. “Wow, this place is packed for a Thursday. I hope we hook up with some dudes that don't mind spending paper on us.”

Anya wasn't interested in a hookup, but she didn't say anything.

“Oh, my God!” Natalie suddenly exclaimed.

“What!” Anya slammed on the brakes thinking she was about to run into something.

“Baller alert!” Natalie shouted excitedly, craning her neck as a Range Rover pulled into the parking area, its gleaming rims spinning. “Sergio and his boys are gonna be up in the club tonight.”

“Girl, don't be screaming while I'm driving. I almost ran into one of these parked cars.”

“Sorry, girl. I got overly excited because Sergio and his boys are here.” Natalie began moving her shoulders to the music that poured from the speakers in Anya's car.

“Who's Sergio?” Anya glanced in the direction of the Range, but the tinted windows prevented her from getting a glimpse of the driver.

“You don't know who Sergio is?” Natalie gawked at Anya. “Girl, you been out of town for way too long. Sergio runs the city, now. He used to be nothing more than a soldier, but he's a boss now that he took over all of Big Marvin's territories. He's a fine-ass Dominican with jet-black, silky hair, smooth dark skin, and hypnotizing dark eyes.”

“Never heard of him.” She'd never heard of Big Marvin either; she'd never been the type of girl to run after drug dealers.

“Where you been living—under a rock? Everybody knows Sergio.” Natalie stared at Anya with widened eyes, gawking at her as if Anya was missing a chip in her brain. Like a lot of naïve young people in the urban community, Natalie viewed drug dealers with the same respect given a politician, a rock star, or a minister.

“Sorry, I don't make it a habit to keep up with the who's who of poison peddlers in our city.”

“What do you have against drug dealers? Both my brothers are hustling; they ain't anywhere near Sergio's status, but they making money and taking care of their families.”

Anya decided not to judge Natalie. Were it not for the fact that Anya had inherited a large sum of money, she may have been as starstruck as Natalie in the presence of such a powerful man. Her financial security gave her a sense of confidence that she hadn't always possessed.

As she and Natalie walked to the entrance of the club, Natalie was dragging her feet and looking over her shoulder, hoping that Sergio and his friends would catch up.

“Sergio and his whole crew are looking good. We should talk to
them before we get inside. Once we're in the club, all the female vultures are gonna be circling around him, making it hard for us to get noticed.”

“Stop acting like a groupie,” Anya said, nudging Natalie along.

Greeting patrons at the door were a fat bouncer and a much smaller guy who was collecting the admission fee. “Twenty dollars each,” he informed.

“Twenty dollars! I thought it was only ten dollars for ladies,” Natalie complained to the money collector.

“Ladies Night is on Tuesday,” the man replied gruffly.

“It's okay, Natalie; I got the cover charge,” Anya offered in a discreet tone.

Anya slipped a hand inside her bag when a silky voice with a Spanish accent said from behind, “Let the ladies in; they're with me.”

Anya glanced over her shoulder and took a sharp inhale of breath. The man who had spoken was gorgeous. Distractingly handsome. She immediately snapped her gaze away from him as if looking too long at such an unusually fine specimen might cause her to go blind. Or lose her mind. To get involved with someone with such striking good looks couldn't be good for one's health or sanity.

“Thanks, Sergio,” Natalie gushed with a grin that was so wide, all of her molars were displayed.

“It's cool; ma-ma,” he replied, and then strode inside with his boys flanking him.

“Welcome, ladies.” The bouncer waved an arm, inviting Anya and Natalie inside, free of charge.

“Step it up, Anya. We have to catch up with Sergio and them, so we can drink on his tab tonight,” Natalie said urgently.

“I'm not chasing behind that man for free drinks. I can pay for my own.”

“Girl, you crazy. You heard him say that we're with him; so, let's join him.”

“You can go join him if you want to; I'm good,” Anya insisted, noticing that Sergio and his boys had forged ahead into the packed club without bothering to look back at Anya and Natalie. It was obvious to her that if he was interested in their company, he would have waited, but Natalie was too thirsty to recognize that the man had merely extended a courtesy, not an invitation to hang with him all night.

While the crowd parted for Sergio and company, Anya and Natalie had to squeeze and elbow their way through the throng of people to get to the bar to order a drink. Anya had promised herself not to draw attention by flashing money, but with the bartenders obviously too swamped to take her order, and with people bumping into her and stepping on her Louboutins, it was clearly time to put her funds to good use.

“Come on, Natalie, we're going upstairs.”

“To the VIP section?”

“Yes. Fuck all this waiting around for a damn drink.”

“But I didn't see Sergio and them go upstairs; how are we gonna get a table and bottle service if Sergio ain't pulling out his money?”

“Sergio doesn't run everything.”

“But we don't even have a reservation.”

“I don't need a reservation.” Anya mounted the stairs with her head held high, and Natalie slinked behind, her eyes darting around in paranoia, like she was guilty of stealing something. Natalie hung to the side while Anya furtively made a monetary transaction with a bouncer who was securing the VIP section, keeping common folks from entering the area.

“The air up here is much fresher, don't you think?” Anya said as she and Natalie were being escorted to a table.

Feeling more at ease, Natalie flashed a grin and said, “Smells like morning dew and roses.” She comically tilted her chin as she deeply inhaled the air that circulated in the VIP section.

Offered the bottle service menu, Anya selected Patrón Silver.

Happy and impressed, Natalie did a little dance in her seat, and said, “We gon' ball 'til we fall!”

Recalling the luxury experience she and Brick had enjoyed together in the VIP area in a Los Angeles nightclub, Anya dropped her gaze as her eyes clouded with emotion.
Damn, I miss that man.
A sudden feeling of loneliness engulfed her. She longed to feel Brick's arms around her, to hear his voice. But that was a dream. Brick was gone from her life, forever.

The waitress returned and began mixing what she described as “the perfect margarita.” One sip and Anya had to agree that the drink tasted like nectar of the gods. The blend of tequila, pureed mangoes, lime, and Cointreau orange liqueur was exquisite. Alcohol coursed through her body, and as if she'd taken a happy pill, Anya's sad expression morphed into a pleasant smile as she observed the elite VIP patrons that mingled nearby.

“This liquor got me feeling good, and I'm ready to get my dance on,” Natalie said, getting out of her seat. “Watch my bag,” she said, shoving her handbag in Anya's lap and then dancing the entire way down the stairs and onto the huge dance floor below.

Alone at the table, and once again yearning for Brick, Anya took long swallows of the liquor, guzzling it down as if drinking fruit punch.

“Slow down, ma-ma, before you have to get scooped up and carried out of here,” cautioned a soft-spoken Latino voice.

Anya looked up and stared into the smoky eyes of Sergio. This time she didn't look away. She took him in fully, and it was a pleasurable experience. His ebony face with striking cheekbones reminded
her of photos she'd seen of African royalty. The mass of silky curls that framed his dark-complexioned face gave him the look of someone from India or the northern region of Africa. Dressed in all-white with sparkling gold accessories, Sergio possessed a majestic quality, and despite his occupation that Anya disapproved of, she couldn't deny an appreciation of his uncommon, good looks.

“Drinking alone leads to overindulgence, so if you don't mind, I'd like to join you and keep you safe,” Sergio said, confidently pulling out the chair that Natalie had vacated.

“My friend is sitting there.”

Sergio looked around. “Your friend must be invisible because I only see you and me.”

Anya gave Sergio an amused smile. “She's downstairs, dancing,”

“She can join my friends at my table; I'm sure she won't mind.” He pointed across the room where the six handsome men, who had accompanied him inside the club, sat together, laughing and talking. Anya smiled, realizing that Natalie wouldn't protest a bit over spending time with a bunch of good-looking ballers.

Staring at Anya, Sergio reached across the table and rested his palm on top of her hand. “You're heartbroken; I see it in your eyes. Who is the foolish man that left your fragile heart shattered in pieces?”