Doin' Me (14 page)

Reyna rushed into her workstation at the real estate office and dumped her bag on the floor. She had two minutes to swap her Nikes for a pair of heels and get to the conference room for the weekly staff meeting. She hated these meetings, but Paige thought them necessary to keep the agents on target and motivated. Reyna's role was primarily that of a note taker, but through the process she learned about the business, and she hoped to one day own her own home.

Home.
That was a place she hadn't been in a while. Although she ate and slept at the town house, it no longer felt like home—not with an unemployed substance abuser living there.

After she caught him snorting Tyson's furniture up his nose and then suffered his subsequent verbal and physical attack three months ago, Peyton apologized profusely and begged for forgiveness. He swore the cocaine had spoken those vicious words and not his heart. He had even vowed to enroll in to a rehabilitation program and get a legitimate job. “It won't happen again. I promise. I love you.” He'd made the declaration on his knees, with tears and snot running down his face. His sincerity and his profession of love had convinced Reyna to give him another chance, but she slept with the poker underneath her bed, just in case.

Peyton had lived up to his promises. He even bathed regularly. He catered to Reyna's every need. He did the housekeeping and cooked and presented Reyna with the results of his Internet job search when she returned home from work. He compiled a list of rehab programs, and not once did he ask to use her car. He discussed every decision with her, no matter how small, and showered her with affection. The new and improved Peyton was the man of Reyna's dreams. After seven days, she learned dreams could transform into nightmares.

Thinking all Peyton needed to overcome his habit was her support, Reyna ignored the subtle signs that she was being manipulated again. When fifty dollars disappeared from her purse, Peyton convinced her she'd miscalculated on their last trip to the grocery store. Two days later, she planned to run errands during her lunch break but couldn't find her car. It wasn't where she'd parked it that morning. Reyna called the police to report it stolen, only to have Peyton drive up while the officer was taking her report. Peyton swore he'd told Reyna he planned to use the vehicle for a job interview. She knew he was lying. As much as they needed the money, she would have remembered an employment opportunity. She gave him the benefit of the doubt until she came home and found her debit card on the coffee table, next to his mirror and glass straw. She called the bank and nearly fainted when she discovered that not only had he stolen her card, but he'd snorted the rent money up his nose.

Hours of yelling and screaming climaxed with more tears and confessions of love from Peyton, and Reyna once again rescinding her demand for him to move out. Instead of asking Paige for an advance, she went to the local payday loan broker and borrowed enough to cover the rent plus the late fee. She still owed
Fast Cash
money. Then she rented a post office box and opened new bank accounts. She kept the new debit card locked in her drawer at work. It was inconvenient, but necessary. Peyton had already hocked everything of value in the town house. Their sex life had dwindled to nothing, but she didn't miss it, and apparently neither did Peyton, because he didn't approach her. To dilute the painful reality of her dismal life, Reyna indulged in a nightly dose of vodka and orange juice.

This morning she ran behind schedule because Peyton accused her of hiding money from him because she didn't trust him. As usual, during the weekly argument Reyna lied and said that she wasn't hiding any money and that she trusted him, but not the drug that controlled him. She thought she'd soothed him, until he cursed her out and then punched a hole in the bathroom wall. Just what she needed: something else to replace. At this rate she'd be in debt to Tyson the remainder of her natural life.

She made it to the conference room with ten seconds to spare. Paige acknowledged her presence by telling her to pass out the agenda.

“Sure,” Reyna said through gritted teeth. Even though Paige was her boss, she hated whenever the woman told her what to do.

Paige opened the meeting with prayer. The downside of working for a Christian employer, other than being jealous of her, was the weekly “Come to Jesus” prayer. Although Reyna no longer believed the hype, she bowed her head, but instead of praying, she hummed the beat to her favorite song.

An hour later Reyna's to-do list overflowed with requests not only from Paige, but from other agents as well.

“Reyna, I need to speak to you privately for a moment,” Paige stated at the close of the meeting. “The rest of you may leave.”

What did I do now? she wondered as the agents filed out of the room. Reyna hoped she wasn't being fired when Paige stood and closed the door after the last agent.

“Reyna, you're doing a good job.”

Reyna exhaled.

“I've noticed a remarkable change in your work habits since you joined us six months ago. I'll admit I hired you only as a favor to Tyson, and your meddling almost got you fired. However, you've changed. Tyson was right about you. You have the potential to do great things. I hope you consider returning to school. According to Tyson, you're close to obtaining your master's.”

The last thing Reyna had expected was a compliment from Paige. Pride prevented her from saying thank you. She swallowed the lump in her throat, wondering what else Tyson had said about her. “I might go back someday, but right now I have to support myself.”

Paige nodded as if she understood completely, and Reyna knew what was coming next. “Well, pray about it. God can turn things around if we trust Him. Until then, you've earned your six-month salary increase. The other agents and I have agreed to pay you an additional stipend to perform code calls and set listing appointments. This will free us to devote more time to our existing customers and gain new ones.”

Reyna jumped up. “Really?” She'd forgotten all about the six-month increase provision in her employment contract. The code-calling stipend was an added bonus.

For the first time, Paige's laughter filled the room. Reyna's gut contracted; even the woman's laugh was eloquent.

“It's not much, but it'll help.” Paige turned to leave but stopped short of the door. “God has so much more for you than what you're settling for. Find a way to finish school. I'll help in any way I can.”

Reyna heard the words but didn't have time to take heed. Paige had just given her the means to pay off the payday advance loan. The company called her so much, she had to download a Chinese-speaking voice mail message to throw them off.

Reyna floated through the rest of the day. The increase in pay would eventually solve her money problem. The extra money would give her the chance to catch up on some bills and finally get a tune-up on her car. On the way home, she debated whether to share the good news with Peyton, then decided against it. He'd find a way to snort the money up before she earned it.

She stopped short of opening the town house door when she arrived home that evening, opting to sit on the bench swing on the porch for a few minutes to gather the strength to deal with Peyton. Every day when she came home, he badgered her for money, and when she swore she didn't have any, he'd curse at her, then leave, only to return in the middle of the night.

She looked around the subdivision and noticed something was missing—her car. Which meant Peyton wasn't home. She entered the town house with renewed energy, only to have it sapped from her the next minute and replaced with anger.

An unfamiliar skinny blond woman lay on the couch. The stranger offered an empty smile before her glossy eyes rolled to the back of her head.

Reyna violently shook the woman. “Who the . . . are you? Why are you in my house?”

“Will you shut up?” Peyton said, emerging from the bedroom, wearing jeans and no shirt, with the glass straw in his hand. “Stupid broad, you're always messing up somebody's high. What are you doing here this early, anyway? Shouldn't you be at work?”

Reyna huffed and jumped in his face. “Cokehead, it's six o'clock in the evening.” She pointed back at the semiconscious woman. “Who is she? What is she doing here?”

Peyton's head shook and his eyes blinked like he was confused. “I guess I lost track of the time. We're usually done before you get home.”

“I said . . .” Reyna paused when his words resonated. “Are you telling me, you and this cokehead tramp have been snorting up in my house every day?”

“Don't talk about Laci like that. She's a good person who enjoys the same recreation I do.” He turned to walk away and then turned back, like he'd just remembered something important. “If it's really six o'clock, she's late picking up her kids from the child-care center.” He went over and shook her. “Come on, Laci, wake up.”

Reyna's visual field flooded with red dots, and rage consumed her the longer she watched Peyton attempt to awaken the woman. Disdain dripped from her lips. “I can't believe you're cheating on me with that. You're leaving me for that?” Before she could strike his back, he turned around.

“I'm not stupid like you are. Laci and I are only friends.”

“I don't believe you!”

“I don't care. As pathetic as you are, I'm not leaving you. I'd be as stupid as you are to walk away from my bread and butter. All I have to do is show you a little attention and you'll believe anything I tell you.”

The corners of her eyes burned with tears. Peyton's truth serum was working again, and like before, the truth hurt.

“You promised you were going to stop using.” If her heart wasn't broken, Reyna would have laughed at the ludicrous promise. What drug addict doesn't promise to stop using?

“I lied. I told you that only so I could stay here.”

Reyna flinched.

“I don't ever plan to stop. I'm in love with the rock. So stop hassling me about it, because I'm not going to stop. I'm not moving out, either.” He snapped his fingers like he had a thought. “I bet if you tried some, you wouldn't be so uptight.”

“I believed you. I thought you were different.”

“Why? Because I'm white? See, that just proves how slow you are. Darling, a man is a man no matter what color he is.”

Both of their heads turned in the direction of the squeaky sound. Laci was pointing up at the ceiling and laughing.

“Good. She's awake. I'll call the cab to pick us up.” Peyton pulled out the cell phone Reyna had paid for, and dialed a number. “You should think about what I said. A rock-climbing trip will relax you, and then maybe the three of us can have some fun.” He winked. “You know what I mean?”

Reyna knew exactly what he meant, but was too stunned by the invitation to speak. She wanted to slap his face, but her hands felt like lead. As she listened to him arrange for a taxi, Paige's parting words recycled through her brain. She deserved better than Peyton. He had to leave. She wanted him gone, far away from her, but first she had one more question.

“Peyton, where is my car?”

He glanced at Laci, and they both burst into laughter. Mirth poured from Peyton with such force, he leaned against the table for support.

“Darling, your car is probably in three states by now.”

Reyna fell back against the wall for support. “What?”

“How do you think we financed our adventure?” he asked, pulling his shirt out from underneath Laci. “We sold your car for parts to one of Laci's friends. At least now you don't have to worry about getting a tune-up.”

Reyna felt her body sliding down the wall but didn't stop its descent. “You chopped my car?”

“Got over three grand for it.” The words rolled off his tongue as if his actions were rational.

Peyton lifted Laci from the couch and steadied her as she stood upright. “The taxi will be here in a minute. We have to get Laci's kids before the child-care center calls CPS again.” Laci followed him mechanically. “Don't forget to call the insurance company and report the car stolen so we can get a new car soon. Laci's husband is away on business, so I probably won't be home tonight,” he called over his shoulder. Then the door closed.

Reyna's bottom hit the floor with a thud.

Reyna jolted upright at the sound of the alarm clock. Blindly, she aimed for the nightstand to silence the noise. When her hand hit the wall, she remembered she wasn't in bed, but on the floor. She'd rolled over and fallen out of bed sometime during the night. Too drunk to gather her bearings, she'd slept on the carpeted floor.

She opened her eyes, but the throbbing in her head allowed her to stretch only briefly. No body aches, thanks to the extra padding beneath the once plush carpet. How or why Peyton had cut patches out of it was a mystery to be solved at another time. Right now the ocean waves rolling around inside her stomach demanded her immediate attention. After brewing a cup of tea, Reyna showered and prepared for the long trek to work—on the bus.

The option of driving to work in the vehicle she owned had been stripped from her. Thanks to Peyton, that luxury would elude her indefinitely, since she'd let the insurance lapse on the car after she paid it off. Taking care of Peyton had drained her resources, and she just hadn't been able to keep up with everything.

Taking care of Peyton.
How did that happen? Reyna had asked that question before every swig of vodka and orange juice last night. Three-fourths of the way through the bottle, she still hadn't had an answer to that question but had decided Peyton was right about one thing: she was stupid. That was the only theory she could come up with to explain why she had shunned a good man who could provide for her and had embraced one who sought only to take from her.

Peyton had succeeded in his quest. The only tangible thing Reyna had left was some money in her secret bank account. The measly amount would last only a week, if that. The salary increase she'd hope would solve her money problems would now have to be used to purchase some form of reliable transportation. Her self-esteem had gone out the door with Peyton and his new woman. She literally had nothing left.

For the first time, Reyna walked into her workstation and appreciated the small space. At least she had a job, and eventually she'd recover from the mess Peyton had made of her life.

“Good morning, Reyna . . .” Paige stopped in the entrance to greet her but didn't finish. “You look sick. Are you okay? Cramps again?”

Reyna swallowed the bitter words she had for her Holy Roller boss. No doubt Reyna's appearance had fueled Paige's reaction. For the first time in months Reyna wasn't wearing makeup. The “always in place” spiked hair was gelled back. According to Reyna's own evaluation, she looked a mess, but she didn't care.

“No. I'm okay. I had a rough night, but I'll be fine.”

“Can I bring you some tea?”

On any other day, Reyna would have enjoyed Ms. High-and-Mighty serving her, but today worthlessness had sucked her so deep into despair that taking advantage of Paige lost its appeal.

“No, thank you. Once I drown myself in work, I'll be fine.” Reyna booted her computer, hoping Paige would recognize the dismissal tactic. She didn't.

“Reyna, may I pray with you?”

Paige asked the simple question with such sincerity, Reyna would have yielded had the throbbing in her head not returned.

“Look, Paige, I hope this doesn't affect my employment here, because I really need this job, but I don't believe in God. And I don't care much for prayer. I assumed Tyson shared that with you.” She paused for Paige to confirm this.

“No, he didn't. He did tell me you were the most remarkable woman he'd ever met.”

Reyna's mouth hung open. How could Tyson know all the senseless things she'd done and say that about her? Technically, he knew very little, but that was enough to tarnish her record.

“It doesn't matter what you believe,” Paige continued. “You don't have to say a word. I'll pray on your behalf. I don't mean to push, but I sense you could use some divine guidance.”

“No offense intended,” Reyna lied, “but I don't need your prayer. I know what I'm doing.”

For the first time Reyna witnessed sadness resting on Paige's stoic face, and she didn't care.

“No offense taken,” Paige uttered so low, Reyna barely heard her. “Enjoy the rest of the day.”

“How am I supposed to enjoy my day with Tyson on the brain?” she mumbled after Paige had cleared the entrance. For a brief moment Reyna permitted the truth to flood her pores and seep out. Thoughts of Tyson hadn't surfaced minutes earlier, when Paige mentioned him. Every time Peyton disrespected her, thoughts of Tyson's concern and gentleness comforted her. He was her one true friend. He said he would always be there for her, and she really needed him right now. She needed to do what she should have done months ago, when she discovered Peyton had stolen his belongings.

An hour later she made up her mind to drop by his law office during her lunch break, but first she needed to stop by the store for a bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

 

 

“Excuse me,” Reyna panted after she bumped into Tyson's secretary. The two had collided when Reyna rushed into the reception area as the secretary was leaving.

“Ms. Mills? I haven't seen you in a while. What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping to catch Mr. Stokes before he left for lunch, if he's not in court. I would have called, but I wanted to surprise him,” she explained.

“Oh, he will be surprised,” his secretary responded after she recovered from the collision. “He's in his office, as usual, working through lunch. It was good seeing you again, but I have to go. I'm meeting my husband for lunch.”

Reyna couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard the woman chuckle as she went out the door. She repositioned the shoulder strap of her purse and picked up the bag of candy that had fallen upon impact. To her surprise, little flutters filled her stomach with each step she took toward Tyson's office. She attributed the anxiety to fear of how he'd respond once he knew she had watched passively as a drug addict destroyed his property. She knocked on Tyson's door, then opened it and timidly stepped inside.

“Lois, I thought you went to lunch,” he said without looking up from the computer. “Did you forget something?”

Her mouth ran dry, and her heart rate instantly accelerated at the sight of him. Instead of a tailored suit and collared shirt, he wore a polo shirt and what appeared to be khakis. Had his upper body always been that chiseled? It had been so long since she'd seen him, and for a brief second Reyna entertained the idea that she might have made a mistake by pushing him away.

“It's me,” she said, walking to his desk and trying to keep from running to him.

Tyson's head jolted around. In seconds his facial expression changed from shock to pleasure to confusion. He looked down at his desk calendar. “Do I have an appointment with you today?”

It was not the response she'd hoped for, but certainly the one she deserved.

“No. I needed to talk to you.” When he didn't respond, she held up the orange, brown, and yellow plastic bag. “I brought your favorites.” When he didn't reach for the candy, she followed his eyes to the crystal bowl on the corner of his desk. It overflowed with the chocolate peanut butter candy. “For when you run out,” she said, then laid the bag on the desk.

“What can I do for you, Reyna? Is everything in working order at the town house?” he asked before she could sit down.

Reyna changed her mind and decided to stand, just in case she needed to run. “You look good,” she said honestly, stalling for time.

“Thank you. So what's up?”

“Well . . . um . . .” She stammered not from fear, but from the fact that for the first time Tyson didn't comment on her beauty. Then she remembered her appearance and didn't blame the man. “First, let me say—”

“Surprise.”

Tyson jumped up and Reyna whirled around at the sensuous sound coming from the doorway.

“Lois told me you planned to work through lunch. So I brought you something to eat,” Mylan said, holding up the picnic basket. She looked at Reyna. “I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with a client.”

“Sweetheart, you're fine.”

Reyna's head snapped around.
Sweetheart?
Her jaw dropped as she watched Tyson walk around the desk and take the large basket from the woman, who could easily win the Miss Universe Pageant. Her flawless makeup-free skin had a natural glow, and her long, thick hair reminded Reyna of what her gelled-down spikes used to look like. Feeling inadequate, she wrapped her arms around her body. Her breath caught when Tyson leaned over and kissed the woman on the lips.

“She's not a client. This is my tenant, Ms. Mills.” He turned to Reyna. “This is Mylan.”

Reyna's mouth moved to speak, but she got distracted by the toned arms wrapped around Tyson's waist.

“Hello, Ms. Mills.”

Reyna acknowledged the greeting with a nod.

“Give Lois a call later and schedule an appointment, and then we can discuss the town house,” Tyson said. “I think I have some time free on Friday.”

It wasn't until Tyson called her name twice that she realized he'd just dismissed her for the beauty queen. She didn't miss the smirk on Mylan's face, either.

“Sure. Enjoy your meal,” Reyna said in resignation.

Before exiting, she paused and looked back at the happy couple preparing to eat, and her heart sank even further. She was no longer the object of Tyson's affection. He had moved on to someone much prettier and smarter. An empty, hollow feeling engulfed her as she left the building. She had lost something valuable but refused to identify the true emotion. Thanks to the bottle of vodka tucked inside her bag, which she'd picked up at a corner store along with the candy, she wouldn't have to anytime soon.

Reyna spent the afternoon scheduling inspections and posting rental listings. After clearing her to-do list, she rearranged the file cabinet and dusted. Anything to keep thoughts of Tyson and his newfound love at bay. Tyson was a good man, and she should be happy for him, but a gloomy sadness consumed her. Except for the few tears that managed to escape, the strategy worked. At quitting time, she locked her desk, changed into her Nikes, and prepared to make a dash for the bus stop. Unfortunately, her mother and Pastor Jennings were waiting in the reception area.

Reyna smirked. “Let me guess. The happy couple is coming out of the closet and buying a house together.”

“Satan, the Lord rebuke you!” Pastor Jennings exclaimed, waving an index finger in Reyna's face.

Reyna rolled her eyes. “Whatever. What are you doing here?” She directed the question to her mother.

Jewel went to hug her daughter but retreated when Reyna scowled at her. “I've been worried about you, and I miss you.”

“And you couldn't say that with a card?” Reyna started for the door. “I don't have time for this. I have a bus to catch.”

Jewel gripped her arm. “Reyna, please. It's been six months since you left my house, and you still won't tell me where you live. You won't even return my calls. Please have dinner with me. I really need to talk to you.”

Reyna looked down at her arm. The bony hand gripping her didn't belong to the woman she'd grown to hate. She stepped backward and studied Jewel. Her mother had lost at least thirty pounds. The weight loss gave her face a sunken look, especially since she didn't wear makeup. Jewel had also abandoned her monthly Miss Clairol treatments; she now had more salt than pepper covering her head. Although she didn't care, Reyna couldn't help wondering if her mother had contracted an illness.

“What do you want to talk about? I don't have anything to say to you,” Reyna replied. “Or you,” she added, scowling at Pastor Jennings.

“Reyna, please hear us out.”

Oddly enough, hearing her mother beg for her attention didn't give Reyna the satisfaction she'd imagined it would. The idea that her mother might be stricken with a terminal illness piqued her interest. Jewel's life insurance policy would provide her with a way out of the financial mess Peyton had created. She looked up at the wall clock; the interaction had already caused her to miss her bus. The next one wasn't scheduled to arrive for fifteen minutes. Since she'd skipped lunch to meet Tyson, she was hungry.

Reyna snatched her arm free. “Fine. I'll hear what you have to say this once, but then I don't want to see you or talk to you again.” She glared at Pastor Jennings and added, “That includes you.”

“Okay,” Jewel agreed, but Reyna didn't miss the tear sliding down her cheek. She just didn't care.

“So where are we going? I have a taste for prime rib and lobster.” If the two women who had ruined her life wanted to spring for dinner to ease their conscience, the least she could do was help them by going to an expensive restaurant. “Horatio's sounds nice.” She waited for a protest but didn't get one.

“Whatever you want,” Jewel agreed.

Reyna huffed and brushed past the women. “Let's go. I don't have all night.”

“Do you want to ride with us, or would you like us to follow you?”

At Pastor Jennings's question, Reyna stopped mid-stride. Eating a free meal in a public restaurant with her nemesis was one thing, but being enclosed in a compact car for the forty-five-minute drive was another. Reyna didn't doubt for a second, she would be bombarded with personal questions and would have to endure that wretched gospel music the hypocrites played constantly.

“On second thought, let's have pizza at Zachary's,” she suggested. The popular Chicago-style pizza parlor was located within walking distance from the town house. “I'll meet you there in an hour.” That would give her enough time to catch the next bus and change into casual clothing and walk the short distance to the restaurant. It would also give her time to indulge in some of the happy juice tucked away inside her bag.