Misty (14 page)

Natalie was acting really thirsty, and the way she was trying to latch on and get close to Anya was pitiful. Anya could be cold-blooded
when she needed to. Hell, she could kill if she had a reason to, yet she felt a tug of sympathy on her heartstrings. Natalie was practically begging for her friendship, and Anya didn't have the heart to turn her back on such a misguided, poor girl.

After another round of drinks were served (the last one, Anya promised herself), Natalie once again began talking about her relationship with Majid. “I'm getting long paper working Majid's private parties.”

“Where are the parties held?” Anya asked and took a sip of her martini. It was obvious Natalie wanted to talk about her perverted lifestyle, and Anya needed liquor to be able to tolerate listening to the disgusting details.

“Different places. Usually all men, but sometimes other women are there.”

“Do the other women get paid to entertain the men like you do?”

“No, they're only there to have fun.”

“What kind of fun do they have?”

“They like watching the different things I do with the men. Sometimes Majid gets me to serve one of the bitches at the party.”

A perplexed look appeared on Anya's face. “Serve? How?”

“Eating pussy,” Natalie said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I'm not crazy about going down on girls, but it makes Majid happy and gets his dick hard, so I do it for him.”

Anya's mouth fell open. “You eat pussy in front of everybody at those after-hour parties?” she asked, appalled.

Natalie nodded. “It's all good; I get big tips for that.”

“Ohmigod, Natalie,” Anya mumbled, shocked and repulsed by Natalie's startling admission. It was a shame the way Majid was taking advantage of Natalie. She thought about complaining to Sergio, and then changed her mind, deciding to mind her own
business. Natalie was a grown-ass woman, making grown-ass decisions.

“Don't tell me you never been with a girl before?” Natalie searched Anya's face closely, as if daring her to lie.

“Absolutely not and I don't intend to.”

“Chile, that's how you keep a man. I bet Sergio would love to see you involved in some girl-on-girl action.”

“Does Sergio attend those parties?” Anya asked in a shaky voice.

“He hasn't attended any so far, but I wouldn't put it past him to show up at some point.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I'm saying, if his boys are into all that freaky stuff, he must be too. You know what they say…birds of a feather,” Natalie said tauntingly as she licked the end of her straw.

“A
s you can see, the crib could use a feminine touch,” Sergio said as he took Anya on a tour of his palatial home that was decidedly masculine with a color scheme of brown, gray, and deep maroon. Ethnic pottery and wood carvings of animals were set upon tabletops and shelves. A pair of tribal drums was used as end tables, and a shimmering silver chest with dangling locks and a rich, leather trim made an impressive coffee table. The walls were adorned with interesting pieces of Caribbean art, and Anya was able to discern the pieces that were painted by Sergio's Dominican friend. Everywhere Anya looked, there was something unique to admire.

Sergio was probably accustomed to women losing their minds when they saw the luxurious way he lived, and if she were a materialistic person, Anya would jump at the bait and start plotting on a way to move in with him.

“Hmm,” Anya murmured with a faint smile, but declined to comment. The champagne she'd been served not only tasted delicious, it put her in a fantastic mood. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so happy and giggly.

“Maybe one day you'll be the lady of the house and add your special touch.” Sergio eyed Anya with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. He was dangling a carrot and waiting for her to jump at the opportunity.

“So far, every room I've seen is decorated with style and elegance—your home isn't lacking anything.”

“It's a big house, ma-ma. Some of the rooms are empty.”

“I'm sure your interior decorator has great ideas for the empty rooms,” Anya said, refusing to even entertain the outrageous notion of moving in. It was much too soon to even consider the idea.

When they approached the kitchen, there was the distinct sound of chopping, and mouthwatering aromas drifted in the air. She and Sergio didn't enter; they stood in the doorway of the cathedral-ceiling kitchen with white marble counters and white cabinetry, observing the chef and his two assistants preparing what smelled like a scrumptious meal.

“Appetizers will be served in exactly fifteen minutes, Mr. Travares,” the chef commented respectfully as he chopped vegetables at an amazing speed.

“That'll work,” Sergio replied and guided Anya away from the kitchen.

“Whatever they're cooking smells divine. You went all out for me, and I'm really flattered.”

“Only the best for you,” Sergio said, as he led her down a hallway. Soft music piped through the speakers, adding to the ambience of the romantic evening he had planned.

He stopped outside a room with pure white carpeting and described it as his chill spot. The room was decorated in soft hues of gray and blue and there were large, plump pillows on the floor.

“This is where I relax when the weight of the world comes down on me. Whenever I have big problems that require tough solutions, I come in here and meditate on the situation.” The sadness in his tone didn't escape Anya. She supposed there was a lot of pressure being a drug kingpin.

“While I'm in here trying to get answers to business problems, I should also try to find the answers to what's going on between you and me.”

“What do you mean?” She dropped her eyes uncomfortably.

Sergio lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I don't know what else I can do to convince you that I want you by my side.”

When he removed his finger, she swallowed more champagne.

“No comment?” Sergio prodded, gazing at her with a serious expression.

The air was suddenly tense. Anya cleared her throat and said, “Well…it's a little soon to even consider shacking, don't you think?” She laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“But is that something you would consider?” His brows furrowed questioningly.

“I like you a lot, Sergio, you know that. But I don't understand why you're trying to speed things up. I thought players enjoyed their freedom.” Nervously, she chuckled again.

“I'm a reformed player.”

“Since when?”

“Since the night I met you.”

Anya had no reply. Blushing, she glanced away.

“You're real cute when you blush, you know that? Eventually I'm gonna break through that tough exterior and find a way to your heart. That's a promise.” Bristling with confidence, he winked at her, and then placed an arm around her waist and escorted her through double doors that led outside to the pool area.

“It's beautiful back here.” Anya's gaze went from the lush greenery to the Olympic-size pool and the Jacuzzi next to it. Sergio was doing a thorough job of showing her how long his money was,
and though she was impressed by his lifestyle, she wasn't a gold digger. She'd never gone after any man for personal gain.

They sat on chairs near the pool and quietly enjoyed the view. “I like what I see; you're a beautiful young lady,” Sergio said, breaking the silence.

“Thank you.” She smiled in appreciation as she observed his smooth, ebony skin, which contrasted nicely with his white shirt and light gray suit. The gold and diamond-encrusted chain around his neck added pizzazz to his look. It was nice to be alone with him without Majid or his other bodyguards lurking in the shadows or sitting outside in cars, the way they did whenever Sergio visited her at her place. When she'd asked Sergio about his security team, he'd said that where he rested his head was his refuge and the only place where he didn't feel the need to be guarded.

Facing Anya, Sergio moistened his luscious lips and said, “I'm trying to take us to the next level. Why're you fighting me, ma-ma? Is that other man still on your mind?”

“I'm not going to lie to you, Sergio. I do still have feelings for someone else, but he'll never be in my life again.”

“So, all you need is time to purge yourself of those old feelings?”

Anya nodded and sighed. “But, it's not only that.”

“What else is on your mind?” Sergio furrowed his brow thoughtfully.

“You lead a dangerous lifestyle, Sergio. And I'd be foolish to get too deeply involved with someone like you. You could never really settle down while you're handling business in the streets. Why can't we simply enjoy each other's company and leave it at that? I mean, why is it so important for you to put labels on us?”

“I'm twenty-nine years old and I've been on these streets for seventeen years.”

“Really?”

“I started hustling when I moved here from the Dominican Republic when I was only twelve years old. I'm going to be thirty on my birthday next month, but I've seen so much and dealt with so much bullshit in my young life, it feels like I'm about to turn forty. The way I'm living is every young hustler's dream. To actually achieve that dream is practically unheard of. Most hustlers either get killed or wind up behind bars while trying to make that climb from small-time soldier to being at the top of the food chain. I've been lucky, blessed, some would say. But this blessing is often like a curse. Besides a few close associates, a man in my position can't trust anyone.”

“It's lonely on the top; is that what you're saying?”

“Exactly.”

“But you can have any woman you want? Why me? I look good…I know that,” Anya said, laughing a little. “But I'm not above average.”

“What mirror have you been looking in? You're above average to me.”

Anya ducked her head down as a quick smile appeared on her lips. “I would expect a man like you to want arm candy, and that's not me.”

“Arm candy is disposable. But a beautiful woman of substance is rare. I sense you have principles and values that are important to you, but I also get the feeling that you have a warrior's heart.” He looked at Anya closely. “I'm rarely wrong about people. I need a woman like you by my side, especially now that I plan to go legit.”

“You're thinking about getting out of the game?”

“I'm easing my way out. I'm co-owner of the club where we met—a silent partner. And I'm venturing into several other endeavors. If my plan works out, my money should be washed clean in less than a year.”

The information Sergio imparted put a different spin on things.
She touched his hand. “I like the direction you're moving toward, but I'm not ready to commit to a serious relationship. It's too soon.”

Sergio held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I can't force you. All I can do is keep trying until you tell me to stop.”

“I want things to progress naturally. If we're meant to be, nothing in the world is going to stop us, and if we're not, nothing is going to keep us together.” Her thoughts turned to Brick, and how badly she'd wanted him, but destiny had other plans for them.

One of the chef's assistants came out and announced that dinner was ready. Sergio and Anya followed him into the house and to the dining room, and to Anya's surprise, two violinists were standing near the table. With a nod from Sergio, they began playing their instruments.

Anya smiled delightedly. “This is really sweet of you, Sergio. Makes me feel so special.”

“You're very special to me,” he said, pulling out Anya's chair.

Dr. Cavanaugh maintained a serious expression after removing the bandages from Misty's face.

“Well?” she said impatiently.

With his head cocked, he scrutinized her face through discerning, squinted eyes. “You are a stunning beauty. I've exceeded my expectations. Have a look.” He placed a large hand mirror in front of Misty.