High Heels in New York (11 page)

“Did you really think I was going to let you fill up on all that nasty sugar, butter and all those carbs and t
hen not make you burn it off?” s
he asked.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Christina Cruz doe
s not kid around. Now hop to it,” s
he said, pulling Melissa back inside the bedroom so she could change into workout gear.

“I can’t work out because I have a sprained ankle,” Melissa quickly tried to get herself out of working out.

“Girl, you don’t need an ankle to crunch, curl, pop and swirl!” She said, snapping her fingers again.

Oh damn.

7

Dressed in a tweed shift dress, black cardigan and oversized black sunglasses, Angie sat in the back of the city cab as it drove through a part of town that she had never visited. But her supply was running low and she really needed to stock up. The usual person whom she would buy her methamphetamines from had been arrested by the cops a week ago. So, she had no choice.

Armed with five hundred dollars in cash, she gave the cabbie the address that her supplier had given her over the phone and twenty minutes later, they were cruising down one of the scariest parts in Manhattan, Harlem. Angie wasn’t worried though, she had lived through much worse. She just wanted to get it over with so that she could go on with her day.

The cab finally pulled up to a seemingly abandoned house with uncut grass in the front yard and a metal, chain link fence. A brown pit bull, tied to a tree in the middle of the yard, with visible ribs and tore skin around the face, yelled feverishly at them. Angie leaned into the glass divider and told the driver to
keep the meter running.  He gave her a dirty look. So, she handed him a fifty dollar bill, “There’s more where that came from. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Fine by me lady.
It’s your life.” Even in broken English the statement rang true. It was her life. But the irony in that statement did not deter her.

Being there, in that neighborhood, reminded Angie of the time when she was fifteen years old, still living in the south and still very much a naïve girl. She had to walk through a neighborhood just like this every day after school. And every day, she was scared that she wouldn’t make it home alive. The druggies, prostitutes, and the dealers that enabled them, were always harassing her. Then, one day, a real good looking guy driving a pimped out Cadillac was driving through the same neighborhood. He had seen the drug dealer harassing Angie. So, he parked his car, got out and pulled a gun on that drug dealer. “If you ever bother her again I’ll kill you,” he told the dealer. Immediately, he became Angie’s knight in shining armor.

Before that day, the guy had never existed. But after that day, he was very present in Angie’s life.  For weeks, he’d pick her up after school and take her to a nice diner in town and they would talk for hours. His name was Nick and he told her he was a Corporate Recruiter. She didn’t know it then, but eventually
she found out that he really was a recruiter, a recruiter of young girls.

Eventually, their talking turned into kissing and kissing turned into Angie losing her virginity. What she didn’t realize was that he had planned this from the beginning. After he had enough of her, he manipulated her into doing drugs with him. When he got tired of partying with her, he then tried to sell her off. That’s when Angie ran away and never looked back.

Marching right up to the abandoned looking house, Angie was no longer thinking about the past. There was only the present Angie, the almost forty
has-been
who was addicted to numbing her feelings because without them, she would be reminded that she too had a heart.

Rolling her hand into a fist, Angie knocked three distinctive knocks on the door. It’s supposed to let the drug dealers inside know that she was not an undercover cop. At least, that’s what her regular dealer told her.

“Who that is?”
A male voice yelled from inside the house.

She didn’t know what to say; Its Angelina Stevens, the movie actress and I need cocaine because I suck as an actress and this shit makes me feel good? “Dwayne sent me,” She finally replied, and stepped to the side of the door just in case he didn’t believe her and got trigger happy. She didn’t want to be in the way of flying bullets.

The door opened just a crack. It was too dark to see inside. But a gray gloved hand emerged from the inside, palm up. She reached inside her purse, pulled out the five hundred dollars and placed it on the hand. The hand quickly disappeared and the door was slammed shut again.  A few minutes pass by and when no one reopens the door, Angie decides to knock again. Her fist barely touches the door when it finally opens again, and just like before, a hand is extended, this time bearing a gift. She grabbed the bag of goodies and ran down the front stairs and inside the safety of the cab.

Sitting in the back seat, with her heart racing, she feels the cab drivers’ eyes on her.

“Where to lady?”
The cab driver asked. H
is gaze fixed on hers.

“
34
th
& Park
.
”

He opened the small slot on the partition and stuck his hand through. Angie immediately knew what he wanted.
Without hesitating, she took more cash from her purse and chucked
it into his hands.

“You got it,” h
e said and then stepped on the gas pedal.

Money talks and bullshit walks, Angie thought. She leaned back into the rough leather of the backseat and closed her eyes. All she wanted was to desperately disappear.

And just at that moment, her cell phone rang. “Meet me at my place in an hour,” Angie said to Carlos who was too eager to oblige.

#

Synonymous with old New York luxury, Angie thought that the Waldorf Astoria was the appropriate place for her and her sister to finally meet. When she called the number that the private investigator had given her, she didn’t know how she was going to introduce herself or how to bring up the news. How do you tell someone they’re not who they think they are without making them feel attacked? And what if her sister already knew and simply just didn’t want to seek Angie out? Angie had so many questions and so many fears. But she decided that never knowing would be worse. So, she called up the number and said, “I have invaluable information that I cannot say over the phone.”

And now, two hours later, she was a few feet away from meeting her. She was extremely nervous and going over a million scenarios in her head about what would happen when they met in person. Part of her wanted to simply turn around and walk away. But she had never been the type to back down
from a difficult situation. She sure as hell wasn’t about to start now. Putting one foot in front of the other, her
Louboutin
heels tapped on each step leading up to the beautiful mosaic main lobby floor. She crossed the Hotel reservation area and spotted the entrance to Peacock Alley Lounge.

“What do you want?” Angie asked, furiously as she picked up her ringing cell phone. Carlos had been calling her all day and she was beginning to get very irritated by it.

“Hi doll face,” Carlos said, sunnily. “I just wanted to tell you that I can’t stop thinking about you. And that I got us two tickets to the Opera tonight.”

“It’s really sweet of you, really. But I can’t,” Angie pleaded as she stepped off to the side by a fire exit
door
, where no one could hear or see her.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I knew you probably already had plans it being last minute and all. But, you know, if you realize later that you can squeeze it in, give me a call,” Carlos said. Angie could hear the disappointed in his voice. It almost made her agree to the outing.

“I’m really sorry. But it’s not a good idea.
I
t wouldn’t be fair to you if I accepted. I wouldn’t want t
o confuse you,” Angie
said. She
found herself explaining her reasoning behind only using him for sex, which was something she wasn’t used to doing.
Usually, the guy would get the hint if she was the one who stopped calling. But Carlos seemed to be having a difficult time getting it through his head.

“
No problem
,” Carlos said, sounding very upset
. “
Sorry I even asked
.

This was exactly
what I was trying to avoid
, she thought after he’d hung up.
He was a nice guy but she knew that he would expect more of the relationship and she wasn’t ready to commit to him or anyone. She was starting to get angry at herself for even having been with him those few times. He was young and she knew that the young ones always brought problems. Sighing, she walked back towards the restaurant and told herself that she would deal with him later, after he’d calmed down.

“Good afternoon,” the hostess said, greeting Angie. “Do you have a reservation?”

“I’m meeting someone,” Angie replied. She then pulled her shades down just a tad on the bridge of the nose and carefully looked around the restaurant. “Um, I see her,” she said and walked through the main dining area, past a couple of empty tables. When she finally reached the table her sister was seated at, she thought that it was perfectly positioned where
passerby’s
couldn’t see them.

She sat down, looking her sist
er dead in her eyes and signaled
to the waiter, “We’re going to need a few drinks.”

#

After looking through all the documents that Angie had given her, Valerie sat at the table, in shock. There had never been any suspicion in her entire life that she had been adopted. Her parents never treated her any differently. She was raised by a very loving and wonderful couple who were still madly in love when they both passed. “This can’t be possible.”

“I di
dn’t believe it myself at first,
” Angie said, sipping a vodka tonic. She wasn’t too keen on
Valerie being her sister either,
especially
with
what she did to Melissa
. But, it was better than
being alone
.

“And this is our brother…Brody?” Valerie asked, holding up a photo of a guy with
broad shoulders and dimples
. 

Angie nodded. On the cab ride to the Waldorf, Angie had finally found the courage to look at the rest of the file. She read everything; where her brother lived, where he worked, even what his favorite foods were. She didn’t expect any less for what it had cost her. When she hired Cohen, she made sure that he was going to provide her with all the little details. And after
spending over five thousand dollars, she was satisfied with the results. “I think he gets the hair from my fathers’ side.” She wanted to say
our
, but it felt strange to her.

“So, we all have the same mother and father?”
Valerie said, shifting in her seat.

“No.” Angie didn’t have any pleasure in saying this but she had to explain. “Brody and I have the same parents.
Um, you have a different father.
” Angie watched as Valerie’s expression
hardened.

“Well where is that information?
” Valerie asked, shuffling papers around on the table.
“
I didn’t see anything in here about that?”

“The investigator wouldn’t give it to me. He said it was because he only gave me information I asked for. I have his number if you want to give him a call. I’m sure he’ll tell you what he wouldn’t tell me.” Angie took
Cohens
’ business card from her purse and placed it on the table directly in front on Valerie.

“And how do you know this Cohen guy isn’t lying?
” Valerie asked, picking up the card and reading it.
“
He could’ve made this entire thing up just because of who
you
are.”

Angie had a
lso thought of that possibility, w
hich is why she never told Cohen who she was. When she initially spoke to him over the phone she gave him her mothers’ name and told him specifically that she wanted to find her and any living relatives of
hers. That’s it. And that’s exactly what he gave her. “Trust me, he didn’t know
and still doesn’t know who I am,
”
Angie
said, remembering that he didn’t make a fuss about recognizing her when she walked into his office.

“Well,” Valerie said, looking up at Angie. “I suppose we are going to throw a huge party to celebrate. After all, you’re the first sister that I’ve ever had.

For once, Angie’s heart smiled.

8

Looking out of the cab window, on her way to SPIN, Melissa felt sick to her stomach. Everything reminded her of Jonathan; the Starbucks where they got coffee every morning on their way to work, 508 restaurant & Bar where they could both eat their favorite meals (He liked Sushi and I like Italian) without having to compromise their cravings, even the Walgreens where Jonathan had to run out to at one o’clock in the middle of the night to get her
Pepto
after a fight she lost with Mexican food. There wasn’t an inch of Manhattan that did not remind her of him.
Of them.
Of the life they once had together. A life she thought he was happy with. How was she expected to get over him when he was everywhere?