Heat Page 14

  At nine o’clock, when the cleaning lady came through, I had already decided. I would stay right there in my office. Shit, I had a large, comfortable couch. Who would know?

  I forced myself to make small talk with the cleaning lady, and as soon as she left I locked the door to my office and stretched myself out onto the sofa for a good night’s sleep.

  I’d think about my fucked-up predicament in the morning.

  That Friday, as I sat perusing my e-mails, LaTangie walked into my office without even a knock on my door.

  “Don’t you have any manners? It’s polite to knock before you enter, you know,” I said as I glared at her from behind my desk.

  “I did, but you didn’t hear it,” she said, and tossed an interoffice memo onto my desk. Without another word, she turned and walked away.

  That LaTangie was really getting on my last nerve. Not that I was in the best of moods to begin with. You try sleeping on a couch for four days straight. My neck was stiff, my back sore, and to make things worse, I only had three changes of clothes. I don’t think anybody noticed I’d been rocking the same pieces on alternate days because I’d been spending most of my time in my office, behind my desk.

  I’m sure the cleaning lady knew what was going down, because last night I forgot to take my panties off the handle on the sliding glass door. I only had two pairs of underwear and I had to wash the used one out at night. It wasn’t like I was going to the Laundromat—in fact, there wasn’t a Laundromat anywhere near Rockefeller Center as far as I knew.

  She pretended like she didn’t see them, but I knew she had.

  I picked up the memo and began to read:

  THE BUILDING WILL BE CLOSED FOR THE LONG WEEKEND.

  AB EXTERMINATORS WILL BE FUMIGATING FROM MIDNIGHT TONIGHT UNTIL MONDAY AFTERNOON.

  ENJOY THE HOLIDAY WEEKEND.

  I read the words over and over again. The building was going to be closed all weekend? Where the hell would I sleep now?

  I thought about the sixty dollars I had left from my paycheck. This would have to last me for the entire weekend.

  Maybe it was time to break down and call Noah.

  I reached for the telephone.

  Crystal

  the week had gone by really quickly, and for that I was grateful. I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Kendrick and I hadn’t heard from him either. I began to feel like my normal self again. Maybe he had gotten the message and decided not to bother me anymore.

  Noah, Geneva, and I were meeting at the Blue Water Grill for dinner and cocktails. The forecast had promised a high of 78 degrees, which would make the day feel more like summer than spring.

  When I arrived at the restaurant, Noah was already there. He’d taken a table outside, which was fine with me.

  “Hey, girl,” Noah sang out as I approached.

  “Hey yourself, good-looking,” I said as he stood to embrace me.

  “What’s that you’re drinking?” I asked as I settled myself into the wrought-iron chair.

  “Gin and tonic.”

  My eyebrows rose. Noah was mostly a wine man. He’d usually only drink hard liquor when he was out clubbing, so this was unusual.

  “I have had a hard week, Miss Girl.” Noah laughed before he lifted the glass to his lips.

  We’d spoken briefly about his problem. “The neighbors?” I questioned as I unfolded my napkin and dropped it into my lap.

  “I like to refer to them as ‘the devils.’”

  “Haven’t you spoken to the mother about all this?”

  Noah smirked. “She’s part of the problem, Crystal. She’s just as loud and uncouth as the children.”

  “I guess the apple don’t fall too far from the tree, huh?”

  “You know that’s right.”

  “I can’t believe nobody on the block is complaining.”

  “I think they’re afraid. You know, most of the people on my block are senior citizens. They’re half blind and deaf to begin with. And besides, them kids are only playing in front of my house.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Do you think they singled you out?”

  “I don’t know, girl, but it certainly seems that way,” Noah said, and caught the passing waiter by his elbow. “Another, please.” Then he turned back to me. “So enough about me, what’s going on with you?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just the same old routine.”

  “You still running?”

  “No, I’m just too tired. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, Miss Girl,” he began, and cocked his head to one side, allowing his eyes to fall down to my hips, “you are spreading something awful.”

  I knew I was. I’d been eating like a hog and not doing a lick of exercise. It was a struggle just to get in the dress I was wearing.

  “It’s water weight. I’m on my period,” I said blandly.

  “Is that the new term for old-age spread?” Noah jeered.

  “Oh, shut up,” I barked, and snatched my menu up from the table. “Have you heard from Chevy?”

  “Not a peep—you?”

  “Nope. But then, I haven’t called her, and you know the only time Chevy calls me is—”

  “When she wants money,” Noah and I said in unison, and then broke down laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  We looked up to find Geneva looming over us.

  Geneva

  i think they were talking about me.

  They claimed they were laughing about Chevy, but I didn’t believe them.

  “You look good, Geneva,” Crystal said. “The more I see you with that new hairstyle, the more I like it.”

  “Yeah, I feel the same way,” Noah concurred.

  “Thanks,” I said from behind my menu.

  “So how’s things?” Noah asked.

  I put my menu down and looked at Crystal. I knew she told him—she told Noah everything. They wanted to play games, fine; I would play their stupid game.

  “Oh, didn’t Crystal tell you?” I said, my eyes boring into Crystal.

  “Tell me what?”

  Noah was so good at playing stupid.

  “That I got fired,” I said, pulling my box of Newports from my bag.

  “Fired?”

  Noah’s eyes swung from me to Crystal. He did look surprised, but he had always been a great actor.

  “For what?”

  I lit my cigarette and inhaled deeply. “I attacked a customer,” I said calmly as I blew a plume of smoke over his head.

  The surprise on Noah’s face seemed to spread, and then he smiled a bit and asked, “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope,” Crystal said.

  “Well, you don’t seem to be worried about it,” he said, picking up his drink. “I guess your man and your son will take care of you now, huh?” Noah laughed and threw his hand up for me to give him some dap.

  I ignored the gesture. “I don’t need no man to take care of me. I’ll find another job.”

  “I’m sure you will, Miss Thang, I’m sure you will,” Noah said before taking a large gulp of his drink.

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence before Noah said, “You know, I really like Deeka—”

  Before he could finish his sentence Crystal chimed in—and a little too eagerly, I might add—that she liked him too.

  I hadn’t forgotten about what I’d seen in the courtyard the day of the party. I had my eye on her, on both of them.

  “Yeah, he’s okay, I guess,” I said.

  What was I doing here? I didn’t want to be here with them, these people who were pretending to be my friends. If they were real friends, why hadn’t they said anything about my weight loss?

  They were jealous, that’s why. Jealous that in a few weeks I would be thinner than both of them!

  “Geneva? Geneva?” Crystal’s voice pulled me from my musings.

  “What!” I snapped. Crystal, Noah, and the waiter were all staring at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” />
  “Okay, baby.” Noah was using his calming voice. He reached up and patted my hand. “The waiter just wanted to know if you were ready to order.”

  After I put my order in I asked Crystal if I could use her phone. I needed to remind my mother to give Charlie her antibiotics on time; she was suffering with an ear infection.

  When I was done, I set the phone down near my plate. Halfway through dessert, it began to ring. I picked it up, and as I passed it over to her, I caught sight of the number that was calling.

  It was Deeka’s.

  Noah

  i didn’t know what the hell was going on with Geneva, but she was creeping me out. It was like she was on some bipolar roller coaster. One minute she’d be laughing and joking, and the next she was brooding or just being plain old nasty.

  When she mentioned that she’d lost some weight, I looked closely at her and did see that her face looked smaller.

  I wanted to know which weight-loss program she’d jumped on this time, and she almost took my head off with her response: “I ain’t on no goddamn weight program. I’m just eating right and exercising.”

  Well, that was news, because Geneva ordered a medium-rare steak, mashed potatoes, and french fries!

  Crystal and I had just exchanged glances, but we didn’t dare say a word.

  “That’s nice,” I said instead, and turned my attention to my salmon.

  When the waiter came around asking if we were interested in dessert, Crystal and I both leaned back in our chairs, patted our stomachs, and shook our heads no. But not Miss Geneva—oh no, honey child—Miss Geneva ordered apple pie à la mode and inhaled it before we could even blink.

  Eating right and exercising, my ass!

  Crystal asked if she’d heard from Chevy, and in between bites of her pie and ice cream Geneva said she had—in fact, they’d spent some time together the other week, even took in a Broadway show.

  I didn’t believe what I’d just heard, and from the look on Crystal’s face neither did she.

  “What show?” Crystal asked.

  “Drama, We All Got It,” Geneva announced proudly.

  Now I had to laugh—loud, hard, and long.

  “What’s so funny, Noah?”

  “I-I just want to know how much you had to pay her to go see that show.”

  Geneva threw her fork down onto the dessert plate. “I didn’t have to pay her anything. She wanted to go.”

  “Chevy wanted to go see that? It just doesn’t sound like her cup of tea,” Crystal said.

  “Well, Chevy has changed,” Geneva said, retrieving her fork again.

  “Has she?” I said, wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes. “Well, I’d like to meet this new Chevy.”

  Geneva was about to say something when Crystal’s cell phone began to ring. Geneva picked it up and as she passed it to Crystal, something in her eyes changed.

  At the time, I didn’t know who was on the other end of that call, but it certainly had Crystal all jumpy. Well, that and the fact that Geneva was eyeballing her.

  Crystal ended that call quickly, but I could tell it had unnerved her because her lip was twitching.

  After that, no one said anything for a while and Geneva looked like she wanted to kill Crystal.

  Both Crystal and I flinched when Geneva reached for her purse. I know it’s crazy, but I half expected her to pull out a gun, but instead it was her wallet. She threw some money down onto the table and mumbled something about having to get home to Charlie.

  She left without even saying goodbye.

  Crystal

  between the wine and the good weather, I was flying. I was on cloud nine!

  Noah and I had had three more drinks after Geneva stormed off like a maniac. It was just my luck that Deeka had chosen to call me at that moment to find out if I’d come up with a place for him to propose.

  I was sure that if Geneva saw that it was his number she would have said something. But she didn’t, so Noah and I just chalked it up to this new erratic behavior of hers.

  I told Noah of Deeka’s intention to ask Geneva to marry him, and he laughed and said, “Hmm, he better take Miss Thang to get her head examined first!”

  Sure, Geneva was behaving like a freak, but maybe she was premenopausal too. I certainly felt that I was.

  Women have been known to act a little nutty when going through The Change.

  I wanted to tell him about Kendrick but decided against it. I was afraid that if I mentioned Kendrick, I might talk him up.

  I floated down the sidewalk toward home. My head was light and I didn’t feel as if I had a worry in the world, until I turned the corner and walked right smack into Kendrick Greene!

  “Hey, hey,” he said, catching me by my elbow and steadying me.

  Grinning stupidly, I looked up into his face, and for a moment I didn’t even know who he was. When the realization hit, terror took over.

  Snatching away from him, I stumbled backward and began digging feverishly into my purse for my cell phone. “I’ll call the police!” I shrieked.

  Kendrick calmly watched me. He was wounded; I could tell by the look in his eyes.

  “Crystal, do you honestly think I’m here to hurt you?”

  His voice was soft. I stopped digging and concentrated on his face. Were those tears sparkling in his eyes?

  “I—I,” I stammered, suddenly feeling foolish.

  “I don’t know what to say to you,” he started, not making an attempt to come closer to me. “I apologized a million times in my letters. Do you want me to write it in the sky? Because I will.”

  I could feel myself melting.

  “Everyone deserves a second chance—you’re the one who told me that, and now here I am asking for one and you’re refusing to give it to me.”

  I felt ashamed.

  “Can we get a cup of coffee and talk? I have a lot to tell you,” he said, holding his hand out to me.

  I just stared at it.

  “Please,” he said, his tone pleading.

  Everything in me screamed: Don’t do it!

  But the heart is stubborn and wanting, and I found myself placing my hand into his.

  Chevy

  i called Noah twice and both times I got the answering machine. Called the cell phone and it went straight to voice mail. I slammed the phone down without leaving a message.

  That faggot was ignoring me. I guess he was still mad.

  I racked my brain as to what I was going to do. In any case, I needed to get some of my clothes from his house. He couldn’t deny me that—it was my property, after all.

  The clock on my computer screen told me that it was 6:15. Most people had left around noon, but I was going to try to stay here for as long as possible.

  At seven o’clock, I heard the exterminators marching through the corridors and I knew my time had run out. I pulled a plastic Saks Fifth Avenue shopping bag from my bottom drawer, grabbed a pair of Red Monkey jeans and a T-shirt from the closet, my one pair of clean underwear, a tube of toothpaste, and my toothbrush, and headed out the door.

  Once I got outside, my head would clear and a solution would come to me, I was sure of it.

  By ten o’clock I still hadn’t decided what I was going to do. I tried to call Noah again, but the message that came on after I dialed the number informed me that Cingular had cut me off due to lack of payment. I could, however, dial 911 in case of an emergency.

  I strutted along, head held high. I wanted to cry, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t!

  I am a grown-ass woman and will handle my situation as such, I thought.

  I roamed the streets until I found myself in Alphabet City. The streets buzzed with activity. Salsa music blared from open windows and oversize SUVs.

  My stomach grumbled loudly when I passed a Coochie Frito restaurant that advertised STEW CHICKEN, RICE BEANS W/SIDE SALAD—$7.50

  What the hell, right?

  I hadn’t realized I was devouring my food at such an alarming rate until I looked u
p and saw the woman who’d served me staring.

  “More?” she called out to me in her heavy Dominican accent.

  Yes, I wanted more, but with the two Cokes my meal had totaled a full ten dollars, leaving me with fifty dollars until next payday, which was a week away, and I still didn’t know where I was going to sleep.

  “No, thank you,” I said, and gathered my belongings.

  After walking for another hour, I stumbled across an apartment building that had a blue and yellow neon sign that blinked HOURLY RATES.

  I was so damn tired; I just needed to lie down for a while. I walked past the place twice before I finally made up my mind to go in.

  The lobby was fitted with one lone sofa that looked so battered and infected, I wouldn’t allow my worst enemy to sit on it. A number of scantily clad women stood around babbling to each other in Spanish. There were two men, one dressed in a black shirt that was unbuttoned down to his navel, exposing his hairy chest, and another who looked like a reject from Miami Vice. Both wore dark shades, but I could feel their eyes probing me as I walked in.

  “How much?” I asked the hefty, pimply-faced man behind the glass enclosure.

  “How many times you want?”

  “How many times?”

  “Yeah, yeah, how many times you want…uno, dos, tres…how many times?”

  I stared at him for a moment, trying to decipher what it was he was trying to relay to me, and then it clicked, “Oh, how many hours!”

  “Sí,” he said, pointing to the cardboard sign that hung on the wall behind him. On it, scrawled in black marker, were the hourly rates:

  One hour = $15.00

  Two hours = $25.00

  Three hours = $35.00

  Four hours = $45.00

  Five hours or more = $50.00

  I thought about the fifty dollars I had left. I couldn’t waste all my money on sleeping—I would have to eat.

  “Two hours,” I said.