Déjà Vu (13 page)

“Yeah, Desi, I’m fine. I just saw a ghost.”

“What do you mean you saw a ghost?”

“Someone from my past that I’ve tried to forget.” Angelica pulled the five one-hundred-dollar bills out from the pile of crumpled bills.

“Damn, that’s a big tip. Put that out of sight,” Desiree whispered. “Don’t let anyone know you have it. You want to talk?”

“Not right now, Desi. Maybe later.”

“I’m here for you, girl, but you know you’ve got to go back out there. They are emptying their pockets for you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Angelica said half-heartedly. “I delivered, and they paid. I was on a high, you know. Wanted to show that simple-minded Kiki how a real pole dancer did it. Never expected to see him again.”

“I can give you a ride home tonight, if you like,” Desiree offered. “If it will make you feel better.”

“I appreciate it, Desiree, but I’ll take a cab. Don’t want you to have to go way out of your way. I’ll be all right.” Angelica paused. “Thanks for being a friend.”

“Girl, you’re all right in my book,” Desiree said. She patted Angelica’s back. “I knew you were special the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

A look of surprise covered Angelica’s face. She looked up at Desiree and smiled. They both turned toward the commotion at the entrance to the dressing room.

Kiki was arguing with Gerald Lloyd. Her hands were flying in the air and her mouth was going a mile a minute. Gerald was up in her face, and his fingers were swishing back and forth like windshield wipers. Kiki took her hands and pushed him in the chest, and, then walked in Angelica’s direction, Gerald walking right behind her.

Kiki threw her hands in the air. “You owe me, bitch. You went out there and stole my money. I’ve got a baby who needs milk and Pampers, and your old ass is in here cuz you ain’t got nothing else to do.”

“Ignore Kiki, Angel,” Gerald Lloyd said. “She’s having a bad day.”

“I don’t need you to talk for me,” Kiki screamed. “She’s gonna pay for this!”

“It’s all right, Mr. Lloyd. I can handle this.” As Angelica stood and stared at Kiki, Gerald Lloyd backed away. “Poor, poor, Kiki. Didn’t make enough money to buy her baby some milk?”

Kiki raised her hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Angelica said, throwing her hand up to block Kiki’s hand. “Next time, you’ll be careful what you ask for. Last is what you wanted, and last is what you got.
You have no one to blame but yourself. I told you before you got in my face that you were no match for me. You’re cocky, ignorant with mush for brains, and if you had only listened to the advice this old ass gave you, you would have fared much better.

“I believe there’s hope for you Kiki, but before you go around attacking people because of your inexperience and insecurities, use your head for something other than a coat rack. You’ll be better off.”

“I’ll sue you first. Those men out there were my customers.”

Angelica peeled off a twenty-dollar bill and pushed it into Kiki’s hand. “Get your baby some milk and Pampers.”

Kiki stared at Angelica with tears welling up in her eyes. She slapped the money away, walked to the restroom and slammed the door.

T
onight’s payday made Angelica a very happy woman. Not only would she be able to afford first and last month’s rent, she could also buy a whole lot of other things. Her five hundred-dollar tip was tucked deep in the crevice of her bosom, and her employers at Club Platinum would be none the wiser.

She called for a taxi and chit-chatted a moment with some of the other girls who had taken a liking to her. They begged for Angelica’s secret because a payday like hers meant freedom for them…freedom to make the kind of choices they wanted—where to live, what stores to shop in, and even the choice of a higher education, if they wanted it. They listened intently to Angelica’s colorful monologue on how to please a man with your body without being touched. Finally, Angelica waved goodbye and headed for the door.

Upon opening the door, cold air rushed into Angelica’s face. It was three-thirty in the morning, but she felt alive. Facing Ari wouldn’t be a chore this morning because she could leave his house tomorrow if she chose to do so.

A set of headlights crawled down the street but, to Angelica’s disappointment, it wasn’t the cab. The black car pulled to the curb, and the passenger door flew open. Out stepped Robert Santiago, his gold diamond ring shining under the moonlight.

“Thought I forgot, didn’t you?”

“Well, I hadn’t thought about it since we first spoke,” Angelica replied.

Santiago laughed. “I bet you didn’t forget the thousand-dollar tip I left you. If I check with the owners, I can almost guarantee that you didn’t turn it in. See, I know you, Angelica. You lust for money like most men lust for women.”

Angelica stood on the curb, unable to find a word to say. Santiago was amused but not for long. “Come on, let’s hop in the car. I don’t like long drawn out conversations standing outside in the cold when I have a warm comfortable place to do that sort of thing.

“I really ought to go home. I have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Like what?”

Angelica stared at Santiago. She had been free of him for the last five years, even if she was in a prison cell, and she wasn’t about to let one evening send her back into his clutches if she could help it.

“I’m sorry, Angelica. What you have to do is none of my business. I want to take you for breakfast and some small talk.”

“I’m sure there aren’t any places open at this time that serve breakfast.”

“You’re in New York City. Nothing ever closes.”

Santiago guided Angelica by the arm and led her to the car. “By the way,” Santiago said, “I like Angelica much better than Angel. Angelica has a ring that pulsates down my spine.”

A sigh slipped through Angelica’s lips. She couldn’t believe that she was allowing Santiago to manipulate her. No, she wasn’t putting up a fight because she knew the power of his reach. Angelica had seen Santiago in action. Maybe breakfast was all he really wanted, and then she could be on her way to making her own success, whatever it was, all by herself. She slipped into the car, with Santiago right behind her.

The car was spacious. A smoked-glass partition separated the back from the driver, and a well-stocked mini-bar faced the couple where they sat.

“How about some champagne?” Santiago asked.

“All right,” Angelica whispered.

“You were working it tonight. But why, may I ask…a strip club?”

“If you really want to know, before I became Hamilton Barnes’ wife years ago, I used to be a stripper. In fact, that’s where we met.”

Santiago passed Angelica the drink and cocked his head to get a better look at her. “You certainly haven’t lost your touch.”

“Some things you never forget.”

“Truer words were never spoken. You know, Angelica, I adored you once. I know that it wasn’t a match made in heaven, but you were special to me. My princess. Remember?”

Angelica swallowed hard. She had no desire to recount the past, especially the part where she betrayed him. “Yes, I remember.”

“You would do anything for me then. Manipulation was your game, and you did it well. I hated that you ran out on me like you did. Don’t worry, you’ll have an opportunity to redeem yourself.”

“Redeem myself?”

“No need to worry about that now. Enjoy the ride. We’ll be at our destination in about twenty minutes. We’ll have a nice meal, small chit chat, and then I’ll take you home.”

“Whatever. I’m here now.”

Santiago placed his arm behind Angelica and watched the New York night roll by. They drove in silence. A long expanse of bridge lay before them, and when they had crossed over, Long Island lay before them like a mystical city under the stars.

Santiago pulled his arm to the front and tapped on the glass partition. He motioned to the right and the driver pulled in front
of a storefront building. The area surrounding it was all but empty, however, and Santiago smiled and turned to Angelica. “This is it, El Conuco—the best Honduran food outside of The Republic.”

Angelica looked nervously about her, got out of the car and followed Santiago into the small but clean family-owned restaurant. A wide smile radiated on the faces of the old couple inside. They were of Latin decent and seemed very familiar to Santiago.

“Angelica, this is
mi tio,
Jorge, and
mi tia,
Maria. This is my uncle and aunt,” Santiago said, addressing the frown on Angelica’s face. “They are the first persons I stayed with when I came to the United States from Honduras. Nothing like family.”

Santiago uttered a barrage of words in Spanish to Maria, and before anyone could count to three, a skillet and pots were hitting the stove.

“In another few hours, they would have been up to start the day,” Santiago said. “Uncle Jorge and Aunt Maria have owned this little restaurant for almost thirty years. Life has been good to them, and they love it when I come around, give them a few dollars, and bring some big spenders. They have been my only family since the day my mother and father were killed in Honduras. I owe them so much more than I’ve given them.”

“They seem to be very nice people,” Angelica said. “To fix you breakfast in the middle of the night…”

“They would do anything for me. Now, let’s talk about you. What are you doing in New York?”

Angelica cringed as she suddenly thought about Donna lying in some morgue. At some point and time, she was going to have to make contact with someone about Donna’s death. Whom, she did not know. The last thing she wanted to do was share any of it with Santiago. She fidgeted in her seat, and tried to think of something to say.

“I wanted to start a fresh life far away from North Carolina,” Angelica said softly. “Not much in N-C. I figured I would have a better chance in great big New York.”

“So your fresh start is stripping at a nightclub for a bunch of lust-filled men?”

Angelica looked directly at Santiago. She sensed he was fishing for something but could not put her finger on it. Why was he so interested in what she was doing with her life?

“I needed some quick money to get me started.”

“I thought you owned property in North Carolina or something.”

“My brother, Edward, sold my home and used some of the money for my trial. The rest…he is overseeing. He doles it out to me when I need it.” She wasn’t about to tell Santiago about leaving her condo she recently bought in Fayetteville.

“It’s your damn money, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I’m sure I can get some anytime I need it, but coming to New York was a sudden move for me, and I didn’t have time to consult my brother about it.”

“So you came to New York without a real plan. Seems rather odd to me.”

“Well, I had actually been asked to model for a magazine, but I found out that I really wasn’t cut out for the business. Too demanding.”

“Modeling would have been much more respectable than what you’re doing.”

Angelica was becoming irritated at Santiago’s line of questioning. Again, why should he care? It was her life, not his. She only consented to go to breakfast with him, not become part of his life.

“Why does it matter to you what I’m doing?” Angelica asked.

“Curious. There’s so much more to you, Angelica. It doesn’t seem to be your style.”

“Do we really ever get to know everything about someone—the real truth?”

“So, what should I know about Ms. Angelica Barnes that I don’t know?”

“You probably already know all there is to know about me.”

A pained look crossed Santiago’s face. It frightened Angelica, but she refused to let him see it. He placed his chin on his hand and continued to look at her as if he had disappeared into her soul. Angelica could feel his footsteps on her heart, searching and looking for the thing that made her tick. The footsteps were so hard that she could feel her blood running from them.

She needed to get far away from his quiet probing because she had no idea what was going through his mind. The demons of the past were starting to haunt her, and his words came flooding back to her,
You’ll have an opportunity to redeem yourself.

Santiago was getting ready to say something when Aunt Maria shoved two steaming plates in front of them full of scrambled eggs, sausages with grilled onions and peppers, hash browns and hot biscuits.

“That’s breakfast,” Santiago finally said after a period of silence.

“Way too much for me at this time of morning,” Angelica said. “Gracias,” she said to Aunt Maria whose wide smile acknowledged her thanks.

“You can take home what you don’t eat and have it in the morning.” Santiago rattled off more Spanish to Jorge and Maria. They rattled something back, nodded their heads and exited the room. For the first time in a while, Santiago smiled at Angelica.

They finished their meal with so many unanswered questions still lingering in the air.

“I’ll take you home, now,” Santiago said. “I enjoyed our short time together.”

Although Santiago was a perfect gentleman, Angelica still questioned his motive. She wanted to believe that his seeing her at the club was a shock to his system, and he wanted to commune with an old friend. She may never know what he was thinking, but she hoped that their repast satisfied any curiosities he had about her.

The driver was waiting for them outside. They got in the car. She really did not want Santiago to know where she lived, but she had little or no choice.

“So, you live alone?” Santiago asked.

“No,” Angelica was quick to say. “I’m staying with a friend temporarily. I hope to have a place of my own soon.”

“Why not move in with me? I have a beautiful place outside of the city. A beautiful woman like yourself would certainly add a certain amount of elegance to the place.”

Angelica’s lips remained sealed. She looked straight ahead as a bad feeling began to mushroom. Santiago’s world was not her world. She did not belong. Anonymity was what she truly wanted, but exposure is what brought him to her. This is what he meant about redeeming herself. No, she couldn’t live with him.

“Think about it,” Santiago said. “You don’t have to give me an answer right away.” Santiago looked straight ahead. “I know all about you—your whereabouts, what you’ve been up to, and I know you have nowhere else to go.”

The whites of Angelica’s eyes bulged from their sockets. Her chest heaved in and out as she digested what Santiago said. She turned her head to stare at him, unable to comprehend the madness that was erupting before her. Santiago stared back.

Angelica’s frown turned to anger. “Have you known all along that I was here in New York? What is this, Santiago? I don’t have time for games.”

“Neither do I. You owe me, Angelica. I’ve waited five long years for you to repay your debt, and you can start by giving me the five one-hundred-dollar bills I gave you. You won’t be needing them, because somehow I already know that your decision to move in with me will be a yes, and if so, you won’t need to take off your clothes to a room full of drunk, lecherous men for your survival.”

“I hate you.”

“You’ll love me more in the morning.”

The rest of the ride was in silence until they neared the street where Ari lived. It was six in the morning, and day was breaking. As they started to turn down Ari’s block, Santiago spotted a police car at the end of the street, sitting at the stoplight. Perspiration formed on Santiago’s forehead, although it was cool in the car. He instructed the driver to pull to the curb and told Angelica to get out. He would be in touch with her later.

Angelica stiffened. Why were the cops in this neighborhood at this time of morning? She wondered if they were casing Ari’s place and compiling information on her because of Donna’s death? She shuddered and exited the car, glad to be away from Santiago. Her knees began to wobble and her hands started to shake. Angelica’s feet felt like lead—too heavy to lift and climb the few stairs to the porch. She managed the climb and turned her head in time to see the police move on as the light changed. And then from out of the shadows, the lone black car with Santiago in it pulled away from the curb, turned the corner, and drove out of sight.