High Heels in New York Read online

  The officer looked confused at her reply until an imaginary light bulb lit up on top of his head. Melissa swore he was blushing. Holding back her laughter, she took another sip of coffee.

  “Is there a number where we can reach you in case we need to ask you any more questions?” Officer Barry asked Angie.

  “Of course Mr. Officer,” Angie said, smirking as she gave him her cell phone number.

  “Well, Miss De La Rosa. We have all the information we need right now. We’ll head back to the station and as soon as we get a lead we will contact you.” Officer Lehman said as he walked to the exit.

  “That’s it? You’re not going to dust for fingerprints or assign her a bodyguard?” Angie asked in disbelief.

  “The crime committed here a misdemeanor at the least,” Officer Barry explained.

  “We pay our taxes! There has to be something else you can do?” She shouted, propping her hands on her hips and pointing her finger at him.

  “The best we can do is talk to your neighbors and see if they saw anything. It’s a lengthy process.”

  “Well you’re not staying here alone. Hell, you’re not staying here at all. You’re coming home with me,” Angie said to Melissa as she pushed her towards the bedroom. “Pack some things and we’ll come back for the rest in the morning.”

  As she walked the officers out, Melissa could still hear Angie complaining. She appreciated the offer of staying at her place but it still felt strange to be talking to her after all that had happened. Melissa was still holding a grudge. But Angie was right; it wasn’t safe for Melissa to stay in her apartment.

  Angie returned to the bedroom while Melissa was going through her mental must-have checklist.

  Makeup bag with essentials… check.

  Her too expensive night cream…check.

  Toothbrush, hairbrush and undies…check, check and check.

  “Any day now,” Angie beckoned from the door.

  “I feel as if I’m forgetting something.”

  “The kitchen sink?” She joked.

  Melissa gave him a stern look. “Oh, I know.” She said, crouching down on the floor and searching for her favorite shoes. “Found them.” She smiled and opened the shoe box. To her disappointment, the shoe box did not contain shoes. Instead, it was housing something she completely forgot she put there.

  “What’s that?” She asked, grabbing Jonathans’ planner out of her hand.

  “Jonathans’ date book.”

  “Ooh, is this where he wrote down all the women he fucked or fucked over?” Angie giggled with excitement, opened it up and started flipping through the pages while Melissa continued her search for the nude Jessica Simpson pumps that went with every single outfit she owned.

  “Found them!” Melissa screamed out just as Angie did the same.

  “Oh my, that boy’s more slippery than snot on a glass doorknob!” Angie said. “You can’t wear those. Docs orders.”

  “Crap,” Melissa pouted. She had forgotten about her ankle. Sadly, she put the pumps back in the box.

  “And he is as dumb as a pile of rocks,” Angie added.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Melissa stood up and peeked over her shoulder.

  “Girl, it looks like we just found the book everyone is looking for,” Angie said handing Melissa the book and pointing to a place on the page she should read. “And he was stupid enough to write it down.”

  “He’s not my anything,” Melissa said, taking the book from her and jokingly slapping her with it on his arm. She tried understanding what she was reading. But, to her it was just numbers and names of people she didn’t recognize. “I don’t get it,” she said.

  “You see all those numbers?” Angie pointed to a row of numbers inside the book.

  “Yeah.”

  “Those are bets.”

  “So.”

  “Your Jonathan… I mean the asshole, is a gambling man. And I don’t mean in love. This book is not a date book. It’s a record of bets he made.”

  “Are you kidding?” Melissa asked.

  “I can assure you that I am not.”

  “And what is this list of names?” There were hundreds of names. Melissa couldn’t imagine Jonathan knowing these many people.

  “That my dear, is the list of all the people he owes money to.

  “All of these people?”

  “Yes and you see that name right there?” She pointed to a name that was written in red ink.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s the biggest mobster in the Italian mob.

  “What?”

  “Yup. It seems that Jonathan wasn’t just running from you. He was running from the mafia.”

  14

  Turning over with her eyes still closed, Melissa thought Jonathan was asleep next to her. He wasn’t. Instead, in a deep sleep and taking up most of the bed, was Angie. Exhausted from a night of tossing and turning, Melissa finally opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She replayed the details of the week’s events in its entirety; the Pregnancy, her mother’s wedding, the robbery, Jonathans’ extracurricular activities and Valerie’s’ dead body. It was too much to handle. And it scared the crap out of Melissa that she didn’t know Jonathan like she thought she did. With all this up-to-date information she felt as if she’d really dodged a bullet. But was it normal to still feel completely depressed about not getting married?

  Melissa was starting to believe that wanting to have a fairytale type of love just set people up for grave disappointed. Being in love used to be her ultimate goal; her only goal. Until recently, it made sense. You fall in love, get married, have kids (not her of course), all while juggling a career. But if you marry well, your career is taking care of your husband and your kids, right? Perhaps for other people. Not for her. Now, she was just single, pregnant and broke in New York. How was she going to even consider dating again when she didn’t even know what she was supposed to want out of love and life?

  And why was she thinking about Claude? Even if he was cute, she wasn’t about to go out on a date with him. Although she knew the best way to forget about a man was being in the arms of another. Zsa Zsa Gabor was a darn expert!

  Decisions. Decisions.

  The argument Melissa started with herself continued well after she decided the best thing for her to do was start the day. She sat up slowly on the Rue Royale Bed that Angie custom ordered to the tune of $12,000, turned her legs to the side of the bed and headed straight to the bathroom. She tried not to look at herself in the mirror until she locked the door. Squinting at her reflection in the vanity, she almost didn’t recognize the face looking back at her. A ten dollar hooker looked better than she did. Her mascara had smeared all over her eyes making her look like a raccoon and one of her false eyelashes had fallen off and reattached itself to her left cheek.

  Sighing, she turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower. Closing her eyes, she let the hot water soak her skin. She couldn’t stop thinking. All the incidents from the last week were flashing in her head like a black and white movie. The reality of her life was summed up in one quick breath; Jonathan’s’ lover was dead and she was carrying his baby. No matter how she tried to forget. It was still there. Inside her. Living. Breathing. She felt the tears come. She could taste them as they rolled down her cheeks and trickled down her lips. Thank goodness she only had one more day before her doctors’ appointment. Soon she would find out if in indeed she was really pregnant. She was scheduled to have blood drawn and a sonogram. It was the fool proof way to know for sure and she had waited long enough.

  Turning off the shower, she toweled off and padded across the bedroom leaving miserable-looking footprints behind her. Rummaging through her suitcase, she remembered about Jonathan’s notebook and pulled it out from under the clothing inside of her suitcase. She stared at it and wondered why so many people were looking for it. It didn’t have any money inside, though she wished it had. All it had were names of people, people that she had never heard of. Think
ing it was best to hide it in a better spot, she hides it the cabinet under the bathroom sink, in the back with all the cleaning supplies. Angie never had a reason to look in there because she had a maid that came in twice a week and she brought her own supplies. So, it was safe there, where no one would think to look for it. Afterwards she got dressed in a black peplum dress that she had forgotten she packed and borrowed a pair of black gladiator sandals from Angie.

  As she finished getting dressed, she heard a loud knock at Angie’s front door. There’s no way that Angie would be expecting any visitors at this hour, Melissa thought, especially when Melissa had stayed over. Perhaps it was Christina, armed with goodies again, she thought. Feeling giddy, she hobbled to the door, swinging it wide open. Melissa expected to see Christina. Instead, there was a white envelope taped to the door. She looked down the hallway just in case whoever taped it was walking down it. But the hall was empty. Shrugging, she took the envelope and closed the door. Thinking that the note was clearly meant for Angie, Melissa walked back into the bedroom and began to wake her up.

  “Are you dying?” Angie asked from under the covers.

  “No.”

  “Am I dying?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Then why in the world are you waking me up?”

  “Someone left a note on your door,” Melissa said, pulling the covers off of Angie and waving the note in front of her face.

  “Does it say I’m dying?”

  “Girl, open it. It’s probably a love letter from one of your admirers,” Melissa squealed.

  Angie groaned and extended her arm to grab the envelope. Seconds later, she let out a loud gasp. “Oh my God!”

  “What?” Angie handed Melissa the note. Nothing could have prepared Melissa for what she read. She had to read it five times just to be sure she wasn’t imagining things. Written in black in were eight words.

  Return it and we will spare your life

  Who? What? Huh? Melissa had no idea what this meant or who wrote it. Return what? Melissa looked at Angie.

  “Don’t look at me. I have no idea what that means,” Angie said, hiding further under the covers. Suddenly, another knock at the door ensued. Melissa was so scared that she dropped the note on the floor and screamed.

  “Angie,” the male voice on the other side of door yells out. “I know you’re in there.”

  Placing her hand on her chest, Melissa looked at Angie. “Who the hell is that?”

  Angie jumped out of bed and covered herself with her white embroidered bathrobe. “That’s the guy I told you about.”

  “The stalker?”

  “Yes!”

  “I thought you called the cops on him already?”

  “I was going to but then I felt bad,” Angie said, walking toward the front door. “He used to be so nice and damn it, he was really good in bed.”

  “So, you like hiding out in your apartment more?” Melissa asked.

  Angie knew that Melissa made a valid point. “You think for the price I paid for this Condo that security would rival the White House, Angie said as she dialed 911. When the operator picked up the call, Angie proceeded to tell her about Carlos. A few seconds later, she hung up and the knocking stopped. “They’re sending someone over,” Angie told Melissa as she tiptoed to the front door.

  “You know that’s what you get for dating these young guys,” Melissa said, walking into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. “Don’t you get tired of not falling in love instead of being with men you don’t really like or men who are already taken? It’s like you purposely date men who aren’t available so that you don’t have to risk falling in love.”

  Angie stood in the kitchen in pure shock. “Fall in love? Did you fall and bump your head? Mel, love and I, we have an understanding. It doesn’t bother me and just like Obama, I make believe it doesn’t exist.”

  “Oh, it’s real and wonderful,” Melissa said passionately. “You just haven’t found the right person yet.”

  “Tell me Miss Know-it-all, how’d love work out for you recently?” Angie asked.

  “Touché.”

  “I rest my case,” Angie said, throwing her hands in the air and walking to the front door of her apartment to make sure that Carlos had really left.

  Melissa could really see her point of view. But she didn’t have to be rude about it. Sure, love had only brought her heartache and disappointment and she wasn’t thinking about falling in love again anytime soon. But her relationship with Jonathan wasn’t entirely bad. They had their good moments. Shit, who was she kidding? Love was exactly like an 80’s love song. And just like Patty Smyth, Melissa knew that she had to say goodbye, for good. Feeling frustrated, she yelled out to Angie, “You know, I think I met someone.” Melissa couldn’t believe she was admitting it aloud. Every single cupboard she opened was empty. “And where’s the coffee? And your cups?”

  “Do you really think I would use these hands to do something as atrocious as cooking?” Angie asked, walking back over to the kitchen, reaching inside a drawer and handing Melissa a stack of menus. “Delivery in fifteen minutes or less,” she said with a smile. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

  Melissa shook her head. She should have known better than to think Angie would even know what a spatula was. Then, she takes the stack of menus and chose the closest one so they wouldn’t have to wait too long. “Just a guy I met by accident. He has a dog from hell but he was really cute. And he did a really silly thing to get me to have lunch with him.” She shook her head, “But I don’t know. I’ll probably never see him again. Anyway, you want coffee?” She asked Angie who was currently busy reading a gossip magazine at the counter.

  “Black, no sugar,” Angie said, still looking down at the magazine. “Who was cute? The dog from hell or the guy?”

  “The guy,” Melissa said, looking at Angie. “Black? Since when?”

  “I had an audition the other day,” Angie offered as explanation. Fortunately, Melissa knew what she meant. Whenever Angie had an audition, she would cut out all fats and carbs from her diet for the next couple of weeks. Milk in her coffee was the first to go. “Hmm, so you really like him then. Are you going to see him again?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Melissa said. “And I did see him again. Last night.” Remembering what a wonderful time she had last night made Melissa feel tingly all over. Claude had been nicer than she thought and she actually really enjoyed herself.

  “Really?” Angie asked, curiously. “What’s his name?”

  “Claude,” Melissa said, leaning on the bar counter in the kitchen. “I’m not ready to date yet though.”

  “Is that an excuse or an explanation?”

  Melissa begins to rub her stomach with both hands. “Did you forget about something?”

  “Nope. I did not,” Angie said, giving Melissa a wryly glance. “Did you?”

  “You know there is a chance that I might not be pregnant,” Melissa said, sounding optimistic. She noticed that Angie was looking at her with brooding eyes.

  “Hey, it’s possible. Stranger things have happened. Anyway, I have an appointment tomorrow to get blood drawn along with some other stuff. So, if the test results still come back positive tomorrow then I’ll know for sure.”

  Angie shook her head. “Three Cs.”

  “Three what?”

  “I’m going to stay cool, calm and collected. You my friend, can continue to drive yourself crazy,” Angie said, “Anyway, what are you going to do about the money Jonathan stole from you? Can you get it back or don’t you have insurance from the bank?”

  “I don’t know. It was a joint account so as far as the bank is concerned, he took his own money.”

  “That sucks. I’m sorry,” Angie said.

  “I know. I’ve been hiding from the landlord all week. I don’t know what I’m going to do. That apartment is way too expensive for me,” Melissa said, sighing. “There’s no way I can afford my life anymore.”

  “Ask your mother. She is marryi
ng a rich doctor,”

  “She doesn’t even know about Jonathan.”

  “Oh, she’s your mother, trust me she knows.”

  “You think?”

  Angie nodded.

  “Well that’s it then, I’m screwed.”

  “You and me both. Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to find a manager?” Angie said.

  “Chris had a silly idea.”

  “What?”

  “My shoe line,” Melissa said. “Remember how badly I wanted to do that?”

  “Why is that a silly idea? That’s a great idea!” Angie shouted. “You can do that with your eyes closed.”

  “You think?” Melissa said. “Nah. I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of one little thing I don’t have, money,” Melissa said. She still didn’t know how she was going to be able to get the rent money, let alone start a business.

  “Oh,” Angie said, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “Money is very important. How about an investor?”

  “Who the hell is going to invest in me with my face all over the news?” Melissa asked.

  “You’re right,” Angie said, looking at the silver clock on the wall. “Hey, aren’t you going to be late for work?”

  “Shit,” Melissa said. She quickly placed the food order and then called Regina. She hadn’t planned on going into work today. Not after the night she had. She just really hoped that Regina would let her stay in, at least for today. By tomorrow, she would find a way to saunter up some courage to go on with her life. Today, she just wanted to chill out.

  “Hush Magazine, how may I direct your call?” Claire’s’ distinctive voice resonated through the phone.

  “Claire, it’s Melissa. Is Regina available?”

  “OMG! She’s been going crazy! Did you hear about Valerie?” Claire was frantic.