Déjà Vu (6 page)

Ding, dong. Ding, dong.

“Hold on, Ivy, someone’s at the door.”

Ding, ding.

“Malik,” Margo said upon opening the door. “What are you doing here?”

Margo blushed. “Checking on my favorite girl.”

“I’ve got my daughter Ivy on the phone. We were about finished. Come in and make yourself comfortable.”

“Okay,” Malik whispered.

“Hey, Ivy, I’m back. It was Malik checking on me.”

“I think he likes you, Mom.”

“We’ve been friends a long time. We’re like brother and sister.”

“Okay, tell me anything. You better go on and get you some because Dad ain’t gonna be any good when he finally gets out of prison.”

“Ivy, don’t talk like that. I’m your mother, for goodness sake. Anyway, I’m in this marriage for the long haul—for good or for worse. And it’s your daddy we’re talking about.”

“Mom, you have every reason to be with someone else.”

“Bye, I’ve got to go. I’m not going to put up with any foolish talk like that.”

“Why are you whispering? Is Malik still there? Mom, you aren’t foolin’ nobody. Talk with you later.”

“Bye, sweetie.”

Margo hung up the phone, and her stomach started to flutter for no reason. She walked into the living room where Malik had made himself comfortable on the couch—a remote in one hand and the newspaper in another. Fire began to burn in Margo’s stomach and then radiated downward. Surely this wasn’t happening at Ivy’s mere suggestion.

Blowing air from her mouth, Margo sat across from Malik and pretended to look at the program on television.

“How is Ivy?”

“She’s doing fine. She worries about me all the time,” Margo said softly. “I don’t think she or J.R. will ever come back home to live—they love it in Atlanta.”

“Well, at least Winston and Winter aren’t far,” Malik said as he surfed the channels.

“Yeah, they’ve really bonded since they moved to Raleigh two years ago and are making all of that good money in the Research Triangle Park. Their college education paid off. Keeps them out of my pockets.”

Malik looked up from the television. “What’s wrong, Margo? You seem distracted and awfully quiet for the chatterbox you are.”

“Am I? I answered all your questions.”

“Have you eaten anything? Maybe we can go and get a bite.”

“Not tonight, Malik. I’m feeling a bit tired.”

“What if I run and get us some Chinese? You haven’t eaten; I can tell.”

“Don’t go out for me.”

“Maybe you didn’t hear, but I’m hungry, too.”

“All right. Maybe some Chinese.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Margo was glad to put some distance between herself and Malik.
Why did Ivy’s suggestion make her feel like she had been cheating? Was this a suppressed desire? She had to be careful. She had made a vow to Jefferson and the Lord, and two wrongs didn’t make a right—even if she was having feelings for the handsome man with the six-pack, wavy hair, and hands that made her feel safe. Margo shook her head to erase the thought from her mind and then fell to her knees.

Lord, I ask You to take the temptation, if that’s what it is, away from me. I am Your child, and I have committed my life to You. You have been so good to me, Lord, and I won’t let anything compromise the love I have for You and my getting into Your kingdom. If this means telling Malik that we can’t hang out all the time, that’s what I’ll do.

Margo was puzzled about one thing. Malik had not mentioned Angelica and she had not been able to reach her the past couple of days. That would be the first question for Malik when he returned. Angelica seemed excited about working with Malik, but Margo knew that Angelica always had a silent crush on him.

There was a knock on the door. It was impossible for Malik to have gone to the Chinese take-out that fast, but when she opened the door, there he was, smiling and holding several white plastic bags full of good smelling food. Margo was suddenly hungry.

“Take a seat and I’ll fix it for you,” Malik offered. “You’ve had a long day, and you deserve a little pampering.”

“You’re not my husband, Malik,” Margo said, throwing up her hand at him and then letting out a giggle. “Stop trying to give me orders.” She giggled again. “Maybe I’m going to have to keep you at bay because you’re getting a little bit too comfortable.”

Malik laid the spoon down on the table and turned around and looked at Margo.

“What are you trying to say, Margo? I know you’ve been awfully quiet tonight, but if you don’t want me here, say so.”

“No, Malik, it’s not like that at all. I guess I was thinking about Jefferson and what my life has become,” Margo waved her hands, “and I guess I let my confusion get the best of me.”

“What are you confused about?”

“Did I say confused? See, that’s what I mean, Malik. My head doesn’t seem to be screwed on straight, and I say words I don’t mean.”

“So try saying what you mean.”

“I don’t know what I mean.”

“Perhaps what you’re trying not to say is that you’re feeling something for me like I’m feeling for you.”

“Malik!!!”

“You are not a dumb blonde, Margo. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Sending Angelica to my place to try and knock me off my equilibrium. Nice try.”

“Speaking of Angelica, where is she?”

“Don’t try to change the subject, woman. Angelica isn’t the subject of this conversation. Why don’t we eat our food before it gets cold? It’ll probably give us enough energy to continue the conversation you started.”

Margo batted her eyes and sat back down. Malik may have won round one, but she and Jesus were going to win round two.

Malik fixed the plates and brought one to Margo. No words were exchanged as they ate their food. Soon, the only noise came from a Target commercial that was playing on TV.

“Enough of this,” Malik exclaimed, putting his plate on the coffee table.

Margo’s startled face turned in Malik’s direction as she wondered what would come next. Her chest heaved in and out as she watched Malik get up and come toward her. Before Ivy’s call, she and Malik were fine. It was as if Ivy had pulled the mask from her
face and exposed her to the world. And her heart was admitting what her mind had blocked out—that she might be…could be a little infatuated with this man.

Malik sat next to Margo and put his arm around her. Margo moved to the far end of the couch. “What are you doing?” Margo asked.

“Surely you had to know that I have feelings for you. Why do you think I come around all the time?”

“Malik, you have always come around. I thought you were looking out for your best friend’s wife.”

“I was, but then I began to look out for myself. There were many days, Margo, when I’d get close to you and smell your hair, and I would literally have to run home and take a cold shower.”

“The best thing you could have done.”

“But I have fallen in love with you.”

“I’m a married woman.”

“Whose husband committed adulterous acts with your next-door neighbor and your ‘so-called’ best friend.”

“And so, are you willing to commit adultery?”

“My wife is dead.”

“But my husband is not. And for your information, Angelica told me she did not have a relationship with Jefferson.”

“That’s her story. Do you know that she tried to seduce me at my shop? Margo, she unbuttoned her jacket and exposed—”

“Too much information. She’s always had a crush on you.”

“What do you really know about her? Her jailhouse cot was barely a week cold before she was up to her old tricks again.”

“Where is Angelica? I’ve called her number several times the last couple of days and didn’t get her. Has she shown up for work?”

“I fired her.”

“Fired her? She was volunteering her services.”

“It didn’t work out, and I haven’t seen her since. You know what happened the last time she went missing.”

“She wasn’t missing. She was out of town.”

“Yeah, lying in the lap of some criminal while helping to serve death warrants on Hamilton and Jefferson.”

“I’m tired, Malik. I don’t want to talk about Angelica, Jefferson, or Hamilton. I don’t want to talk about us.”

“If you want me to leave, I will. I’ve resisted the urge to be with you for a long time because I respect the sanctity of marriage. I understand what it means to not covet another man’s wife. I understand what it means to not commit adultery, but I want you in the worst way.

“I can’t explain what you do to me when I’m around you. You are a beautiful and smart woman, Margo. You are a successful realtor. You have a beautiful home. There are so many qualities about you that mirror my beliefs. Yes, I know it is wrong, but I don’t want to be right.”

“Did you ever love Toni? You seemed to be very happy.”

“Yes, I loved Toni very much. She was special to me, and she made me complete. We were very happy together. And, since I’m telling the truth, there were days when you were going through stuff with Jefferson before the trial and right afterwards that’s if you had let me in, I would have dropped everything for you.”

Margo covered her face with her hands. She had been so consumed with everything that was going on with Jefferson that she had no inkling Malik felt this way about her.

“Maybe it’s time for you to go home, Malik. I think we both need some space to sort things out.”

“What is there to sort out, Margo? I’m laying it all on the line. I’m in love with you.”

“Please don’t say that. You’ll ruin our friendship.”

“But I do, Margo. If you want me to go, I’ll leave, but I can’t help the way I feel.”

Margo’s eyes were tight, but she offered a little smile.

“I love you too Malik, but as a brother. We can’t have a relationship because I’m married to your best friend.”

Tears formed in the corners of Malik’s eyes. Before he knew it, he was catching them with the back of his hand. This surprised Margo. She went to him and hugged him tightly.

“I’ll always be your friend, Malik, but I love Jefferson. It is until death we do part.”

“Okay, Margo.” Malik sniffed. “I have to respect you because you have always been that special kind of lady. That’s what I have always liked…loved about you. I’m going to miss seeing you often.”

“It might be advisable to change your church membership.”

“Ouch. You’re serious.” Malik waited for Margo to say something, but she didn’t. “Well, I guess I’ll be going, but it will never stop the way I feel about you.”

Margo stood at the door and watched Malik get into his car and drive off. Her heart was heavy because she did not want Malik to leave. If she was going to remain committed to her vows to God and Jefferson, Margo could not entertain Malik in her home or be with him on fun occasions. Although Margo had asked the Lord to keep her from harm and danger, her flesh was weak. And while just about any man would do for her because it had been five years since she felt a man’s touch on certain parts of her body, Malik was the one she had fantasized about in her dreams.

The mobile phone was inches from where she stood, and Margo attempted to reach Angelica for the fifth time.

S
leep eluded Angelica. She lay awake, wondering what her day would be like. Soft fingers combed through her hair as she envisioned changing into expensive garments by top designers in the fashion world. She hoped that one day her name would become a household word that would command millions of dollars for her services. Angelica saw herself stroll-ing the catwalks of New York, Paris, and Milan—the buyers not only checking out the latest fashions but also admiring her beauty. And later, there would be television ads promoting her new line of clothing.

Donna was up early, chatting on the phone. It was four-thirty a.m., and Angelica decided to get on up. She walked into the living room where she found an assortment of cameras strewn throughout it.

Donna had certainly carved her way into the industry. The weekend had been fascinating, to say the least. Hobnobbing with Donna’s rich friends and rolling up on Diddy and his crew at a lower Manhattan nightclub was the crème de la crème for Angelica’s first few days in the big city. Fayetteville was now a distant reminder of the past, although Angelica knew she needed to call Margo, who had left several messages, to let her know she was all right.

“Anxious to get started, I see.”

Angelica jumped. In the shadows stood Donna, who had walked quietly into the room and disturbed Angelica’s thoughts.

“Yes, so excited I can’t sleep.”

“Well, Angelica, this may make or break your career—that’s if you desire one in modeling.”

“Donna, if I haven’t said it already, I’m grateful for this opportunity. I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh well then, be ready at six. We have an early morning shoot at eight. Hope to be done by noon for the first set. Dress casual.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Ari brought Donna’s car to the front of the building, and she and Angelica jumped into it. The city was abuzz, and Angelica marveled at all the people who were already up and about so early in the morning. A bagel hung out of Donna’s mouth as she maneuvered into traffic.

New York noise was so different from the sounds of Fayetteville. Angelica sat back as Donna cursed every other car and talked about the pathetic driving, even though she wasn’t qualified to vent because she jerked forward and put on brakes as much as the next person. There was a moment when Angelica almost jumped from the car as they entered Times Square and saw the
Good Morning America
crew on the marquee. Before she went to jail, she always watched Diane and Robin in the morning with a cup of coffee. That’s what she needed right now—a good ole cup of gourmet coffee.

It was another twenty minutes before Donna finally pulled in front of a warehouse near a dock.

“This is it. Let’s move it.”

There was nothing glamorous about the grayish-looking building that stood all by itself. It was an elongated building with no windows, and grass grew wildly around it. A lone Porsche sat in the parking lot next to it, but other than that, Angelica could neither make heads or tails of where she was nor identify the building that held no sign.

Dragging her fleet of cameras, Donna approached the building with Angelica at her side. Almost immediately, three females exited the Porsche that sat in the parking lot, and Angelica recognized Madeline, Coco, and Jazz. They did not look as glamorous as they did on Friday night—no makeup and their hair was either straight or pulled back into a ponytail. They wore high-fashion leather jackets in colors of red for Jazz, black for Madeline, and butterscotch for Coco, and they each wore a pair of jeans that looked like they had been spray-painted on. Before the group entered the building, another car drove up.

Upon entering the building, Angelica felt surprised. She wasn’t quite sure what she expected; however, there was a makeshift lobby off to one side and a large stage, decorated with some type of props she could not readily see. It must be the place where they would do their photo shoot.

A couple of guys passed by with curling irons and other gadgets in leather holsters that were strapped around their waists.

“As soon as the crew gets set up,” Donna said, “you will go to wardrobe to choose your outfits and then go to make-up.”

It was hard to keep the smile from Angelica’s face. This was for real. She was getting ready to plunge into the world of high fashion without even an interview, much less a portfolio, and what was really puzzling to Angelica was that she was a lot older than the
other girls but, like Tina Turner, her body was still in fabulous shape. She would remember from now on not to come made up because there would be someone to do that for her. Madeline, Coco and Jazz already knew that.

The door opened and three unfamiliar females walked into the room. They seemed rough around the edges and not very attractive. Being a model was all about the look. If you happened to have the total package, oh well.

The three newcomers found Donna and kissed her on the cheek and the mouth the way the others had done Friday night. Angelica believed in welcoming a friend, but all that kissing was getting on her nerves. As long as no one tried to do it to her, she would tolerate it, but she didn’t have to like it. Artists were strange people to her.

A very tanned male with streaked blond hair escorted the ladies to a back room. Clothes racks littered the room, and there were shelves that housed several hundred pairs of shoes. Out of the corner of Angelica’s eye something else caught her attention. Grown-up toys were also on display. She dismissed it when Donna came into the room.

“You all have one hour to get ready for the first photo shoot. The lighting must be just right.”

“We’ll be right there,” Coco shouted, digging through the racks to get the choice pieces.

“Okay. And Angelica, after you’ve gone through make-up, you’ll stay put until you are called,” Donna said.

“You got it,” Angelica responded.

“André will pick out the outfit you will wear. See you in a few.” Donna left the room.

Ooh’s and ah’s erupted each time André held up a piece of fabric.
Absent were the beautiful couture designs that made Givenchy, Chanel, and Christian Dior household names. Instead, there were pieces of leather with large brass buckles that had to be manipulated onto the body. This was not quite what Angelica had envisioned and she wasn’t certain about exposing her goods to the world. She may have played hard as a young woman, but the only exposing she was inclined to do was next to a warm, sexy man whose abs of steel would fold themselves around her body. And there was no one in the building who remotely resembled the description of the man she envisioned being with forever and ever.

André handed Angelica a brown thong, a short-short, brown leather skirt with slatted pleats that stopped at the top of her thigh, and a leather-padded bra that would leave her midsection bare. Angelica stared at the items in her hand and wondered what she was supposed to do with them. The photo shoot was taking a bizarre turn, and the runway lights Angelica hoped to see were clearly nonexistent.