High Heels in New York Page 6

  “That’s what I want to hear,” he said, reaching over on his desk. “I got you a role in Say it ‘aint so.”

  “Oh, that new teen movie? You got me the role of the cool older sister right?” Angie beamed. She’d read the script a few weeks ago and although she really wasn’t thrilled with the writing, she figured appearing in something after a two year hiatus would be good.

  “You’re going to be playing Mrs. Roberts.”

  “Who’s that? I didn’t read that part.”

  “You’re going to be Allison’s’ mother,” he said, walking back behind his desk and moving all the sharp objects away from Angie’s reach.

  If looks could kill, Charles would’ve died a very slow and painful death.

  5

  Hiding under her covers, Melissa called out of work and decided the only goal she had was to keep her mind off of the fact that her perfect little life was coming unglued. There was no longer a reason to get up at seven a.m. and go to the gym to get in shape because she had no one to see her naked; no morning cup of Joe on the way to work because Jonathan was having his cup of Joe with someone else and there was no reason to breathe because her dream wedding was no longer happening. Vera Wang herself was crying a monsoon.

  Eventually she would have to put her big girl panties on and go on with her life. But she couldn’t help picture herself walking around the streets of Manhattan a few weeks ago with not a care in the world. There was possibility and real joy out in that concrete jungle. And deep down she knew that if there was a chance she could get her perfect life back, it was highly unlikely that it would come knocking on her front door. She knew she had to go out there and find it. She just didn’t know where to start. And when you don’t know where to start, you sulk.

  And that exactly what she did. Curled up under her covers, she watched HGTV Home Hunters International, oohing and ahhing over the beautiful places she wished she could go. Usually, watching this show would make her feel hopeful, as if she still had so much of the world to see and conquer. But if she couldn’t even conquer a living, breathing man in New York City, how in the world would she be able to conquer traveling thousands of miles away from home?

  Sadly, she couldn’t think of an answer. It made her wonder if everyone had been right all along about her trip to Paris. Maybe, it was a bad idea after all. Feeling depressed, she turned off the television and went back under the covers.

  By midday she figured there was no harm in at least checking her voice mail. So, she powered on the cell phone and waited for it to reboot, not because she needed to make a call, just in case Jonathan was looking for her. Once it turned on, she pressed the mail icon and waited for the mechanical voice to talk to her, you have four voicemails and one saved message.

  Her heart fluttered.

  The first two voicemails were from her mother reminding her to get Tulips for the bouquet and a cake. A cake? For a wedding that was supposed to take place in less than a week? It was just like her mother to expect miracles, Melissa thought. The next one was from her cell phone company asking her to pay her bill. And the last was from her bank asking her to come into the bank to discuss some fraudulent activity. Great, she thought.

  There were no messages from Jonathan or Angie. Not even a lousy text message. So she did what any good friend would do, she called Angie and left a voicemail telling her that she was really sorry and that her life was crap without her. Then she added some up to date information about the most recent events and hoped the severity of her crappy life would persuade Angie to feel sorry enough for her to return her call.

  Afterwards, after much consideration, Melissa called her sister with the hope that she could get her out of having to be her mothers’ maid of honor.

  “Are you dying?” Her sister Kathy asked on the other line without hesitation.

  “What?”

  “Well, Hell hasn’t frozen over so the only other reason you would be calling is because you were dying,” Kathy said so matter-of-fact.

  “Nice to talk to you too. So, how are you?” Melissa mustered in the cheeriest possible voice.

  “Fine. Same old thing. Nothing new,” Kathy said. They hadn’t spoken or seen in each other in over six months. Her sister lived an hour away, across the Brooklyn bridge, in a three bedroom subsidized apartment. It wasn’t that Melissa didn’t know where she lived, or that Kathy lived too far away, Melissa just didn’t want to explain to her sister why she wasn’t married yet and why she hadn’t popped out five kids by now. That’s what was expected of her. To everyone in the family, women were only good for breeding and taking care of the men and the house. It was a primitive way to think but in a Latin household, that’s how girls were raised.

  And that’s why Melissa left and hadn’t been back.

  Closing her eyes, Melissa pictured her sister the way she looked the last time she had seen her; long black hair, thick boned with a darker complexion than her and pregnant with her third child. They were never close. Maybe it was because they had nothing in common growing up. Their age difference played a big part in how distant they felt from each other. Kathy was five years older, so when Melissa was obsessed with dolls, Kathy was obsessed with boys; and while Melissa was graduating High school, Kathy was pregnant with her second child. It was also obvious early on that they also didn’t have the same goals in life. Melissa wanted to become a big time shoe designer, live in Manhattan and never struggle financially like her family. While her sister, was happy just being a housewife. So, no matter how hard Melissa tried, their relationship was always a struggle.

  “How are the kids?” Melissa asked, sitting down on her bed and listening to the sound of the Salsa music that played in the background. A loud bang echoed in the background and then some rustling before she heard a child cry.

  “The babies are fine. Though not much babies anymore. Frankie, leave your sister alone!” Kathy’s voice trailed off. “I swear these kids are going to make me crazy!”

  Sounds like your there already, Melissa wanted to say but instead she just sighed and changed the topic. “So, I’m sure you heard about Ma.”

  “Oh, no. I knew it!” Kathy screamed. “You don’t call me in like forever. I don’t even get so much as a postcard and now you want me to take over your maid of honor role. Nope. I ‘aint doing it.”

  “Aww, come on Kathy, I’m too busy,” Melissa pleaded.

  “With what? That wedding of yours?” She laughed. “Oh wait, it ‘aint happening.”

  Melissa jumped off the bed. “How the hell did you find out?”

  “Some things never change. You need to watch the news Melissa. Not everything in life is about fashion and money. Especially since your personal life seems to be plastered all over the damn place,” she said wryly.

  “Grabbing the remote control, Melissa turned on the television to the local news channel. A picture of Jonathan and her, taken back when they were together and happy are staring back at her. “Oh, No.”

  “Is it true? Did he really steal all that money from all those people?” Kathy asked.

  “Is that what they’re saying?” Melissa increased the volume. This was the first time she’d heard of these accusations and she knew that the media had to be mistaken. Jonathan couldn’t have done something like that, Melissa thought.

  “You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

  “Shut up,” Melissa screamed. This wasn’t the time for her Kathy to remind her just how bad her luck was when it came to men.

  “I remember the first boy you were madly in love with. What was his name…oh yeah, Roberto. You were all gung ho’ about running away with him and getting married, remember?” Kathy teased.

  “Yeah,” Melissa was barely paying attention to her. The news lady was talking to the camera, about Melissa’s’ life as if she knew her personally. It was very unsettling but Melissa listened anyway. Jonathan Henry and Melissa De La Rosa’s fairytale wedding has been cut short due to Jonathan Henry’s unknown whereabouts. Sources say he’s stol
en millions and the number begins to climb, was the last thing Melissa heard before she turned off the television. Not surprising, her sister was still yapping away.

  “Your suitcases were all packed and there you were, waiting for him like the perfect little girlfriend, meanwhile he eloped that same day in Atlantic City with your best friend. Remember?” Kathy snorted.

  “Goodness Kathy, don’t you have anything better to do than rub my face in my fucked up love life? Go change a diaper or matter of fact, why don’t you pop out another kid since it’s the only thing you’re good at!” Melissa shouted before hanging up the call.

  After she’d hung up on her sister, Melissa crawled back into bed and cried herself back to sleep.

  An hour later, squinting at the clock on the bedside table, she groaned, then staggered to her feet, carrying a train of covers with her and headed toward the bathroom. Her brain was working overtime trying to find a way out of the mess she was in. When she heard the front door to her apartment open, her heart started beating away anxiously.

  Oh my God! Jonathan has returned to me and I look and smell like yesterday’s trash! She thought to herself.

  “I see I got here just in time,” Christina said, walking into view. “Aren’t you supposed to be wearing this?” she asked.

  Staring at the pink bakery box in her left hand, she barely notices her holding up the ankle brace in the other. Hobbling toward her she begins to bawl like a baby. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  “Quit it or I’ll knock you on the head and tell God you died.” Christina smiled but Melissa wasn’t entirely sure she was joking.

  Christina was Melissa’s sexy personal trainer. She had been training Melissa three times a week for the past year and though they were supposed to only have a professional relationship, they hit it off so well when they met that they became instant friends.

  “Why are you bringing me cupcakes? You know they’re made with sugar and lots of butter right?” she asked and then pushed Christina away far enough to grab a pink frosted one before she changed her mind.

  “I thought you were on vacation?” she asked mid-bite, “And, how in the world did you know about my foot?”

  “Something more important came up,” she said, putting one hand on the back of Melissa’s shoulder and pushing her toward the bathroom. “Melissa, when are you going to learn that in New York gossip spreads faster than Mono. Now, I’m done talking to you until you’ve washed that man right out of your hair!” She said, adding an Oprah finger snap.

  “You’re a strange little person,” Melissa said, getting undressed and stepping under the shower. With every drop of hot water that touched her skin, she could feel some of the stress dissolve right away. The questions however, never seem to cease. How had this happened? How didn’t she notice that her fiancé had strayed? The Tiffany gift he bought Valerie made it crystal clear that it wasn’t just a one-time thing. It was serious and Melissa was sure that it had been going on for a while.

  That Bastard!

  The bathroom steamed up and she lathered, rinse and repeated. She closed her eyes and forced herself to try and recall any sign that Jonathan had been cheating, a sign that she may have missed. Their sex life was good. It wasn’t great but it had never been great. Love always trumped sex…didn’t it?

  Wash that man right out of your hair! Melissa repeated what Christina said earlier in hopes that it would work.

  It didn’t.

  Instead, she thought about how Jonathan and she never argued. Wasn’t that a good thing? Or is arguing good? You can’t have makeup sex if you don’t argue. Shit! Was that it? Did he want throw-you-on-the-kitchen-table kind of sex? All of Melissa’s past boyfriends used to love to pick a fight. They’d fight over the littlest thing like the fact she never recapped the toothpaste or how she left the wet towel on the bed after she’d shower. Jonathan wasn’t like that. If he didn’t like something he would simply fix it himself. He would recap the toothpaste and hang up her wet towel without voicing a peep. Melissa thought it was a sweet gesture. Looking back at it now, maybe she should have done those things herself. And what if he did want makeup sex?

  Wash, lather, repeat.

  And she cooked. Twice a week. That was definitely a plus, especially living in a city where even McDonald’s delivers to your door twenty four seven. She put in the effort big time considering that cooking wasn’t her forte. She figured this out when she tried boiling eggs one morning in college and ended up breaking open the fire extinguisher. The dorm room smelled like rotten eggs for days. She’d used an egg timer religiously ever since. But her cooking limitations had worked out for both of them. Jonathan had recently needed to work late and barely joined her for dinner at a decent hour so she usually had take-out.

  Shit. Working late! That was probably it.

  Working late was the sign. It had to be. It was so obvious that she couldn’t believe she missed it. What man doesn’t use the ‘I’m-working-late’ excuse when he’s cheating? The bastard didn’t even try to make up a good excuse. Then again, she was dumb enough to believe him.

  Right?

  Knowing it was pointless to get riled up over old frustrations, Melissa forced herself out of the shower and toweled off. Then, she covered herself in a hot pink couture robe, brushed her teeth and this time, hung up the wet towel. Staring at it, she quickly grabbed the towel and threw it on the bed.

  Fuck you Jonathan.

  Walking into the kitchen, Christina handed Melissa a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Thanks,” Melissa said, taking a sip. It took her a few minutes to bring Christina up to speed on the most recent events. (Minus the pregnancy part.) There was enough of her business already circulating the streets of Manhattan.

  Christina had already caught air to Melissa’s problems from Angie and the news media but didn’t want to say anything. So, she listened to Melissa ramble on, all the while thinking that she had brought this upon herself. “I have to say Melissa. This is your entire fault.”

  “My fault?”

  “You live in a big city where relationships are over rated. You’re supposed to be having fun, experimenting, spreading yourself out like butter. Not trying to get married at twenty-nine and especially, not moping around in day old funk,” Christina said.

  “I thought snagging a really hot and successful man was the main goal for any woman?” She replied defensively. “Doesn’t every woman want to be a kept woman?” Her brain finally registered his last remark. “And I didn’t smell.”

  “Your problem is you brag too much,” Christina said, pointing at Melissa.

  “I do not.”

  “Girl, when Jonathan proposed, you were on the phone with Vera Wang before his knee came off the ground.”

  “Everyone knows you have to plan your wedding years in advance in order to get the best,” Melissa said, reaching for another cupcake. “I wasn’t going to get stuck getting married in a hall like a commoner!”

  Christina laughed. “You’re something else.”

  “That’s what people keep telling me.”

  Christina walked over to the fridge and took out a bottle of water. “When are you leaving for your mother’s wedding?”

  “She wants me there on Sunday. But knowing my mother, she won’t get anything done in time for the wedding which means I have to get there by Friday just to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

  “It’ll be fun,” Christina said, opening the bottle and drinking the entire thing.

  Melissa threatened her with a glaring stare.

  “Really. You’ll have the opportunity to give your mother away and see your family,” She said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Just come back with a tan and it’ll feel more like a vacation.”

  Grabbing her coffee, she hopped off the bar stool and sat on the couch. “Don’t you remember all the crap I’ve told you about my family? They’re not normal.”

  “Neither was the Manson Family but they found common groun
d,” Christina said.

  “I’ll take the Manson Family over mine any day of the week,” Melissa said. Everyone claims their family is the worst. There’s always a drunken uncle sitting on the sofa making obscene jokes and an obsessed mom who’s always meddling. Melissa had neither. Her mother, the wannabe saint who drinks whiskey in her bedroom and thinks no one can smell it on her breath, is relatively harmless as long as Melissa doesn’t let her too much about her life. There was her cougar aunt Jazz who’s latest romp almost landed her in jail on account that the boy looked under age but wasn’t. And, then there was her sister Kathy, whom Melissa barely spoke to on account that she always managed to make Melissa feel like shit.

  “When life gives you lemons you make a margarita,” Christina exclaimed, as she stood up and began dancing in the middle of the living room.

  “You know you’re insane right?” Melissa asked rhetorically. She had always loved Christina’s spirit. It seemed that nothing could ever get her down. And right now, Melissa needed all the positive energy she could find.

  Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang they both looked at each other inquiringly.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” Christina asked.

  “No,” Melissa said as she wrapped the robe closed around her body and walked to the door. When she reached the door she peeked through the eyehole. “It’s the police.”

  6

  “Thank you for your time Ms. De la Rosa. Here’s my card. If you hear from Mr. Henry please give us a call right away,” The police officer said as he walked out of Melissa’s apartment.

  “That was the weirdest two hours of my life,” Christina said, wiping her forehead with a napkin. The entire time the police officer spoke, all Christina could do was feel sorry for Melissa. How could Jonathan have done this to her? And why? Melissa was a good person. She didn’t deserve any of it. “What are you going to do?”

  “There’s nothing for me to do. My life is over. Everyone in the entire Tri-state area knows my business by now. I’m going to have to move to Brooklyn,” Melissa said crying and burying her head in her hands as a panic attack seized her. The police officer asked Melissa if she knew where Jonathan was or where he’d hidden the money he’d stolen.