Read Frost on My Window Online
Authors: Angela Weaver
“My God.”
“It gets worse. Her heart almost stopped on the way to the hospital. The drug that was used in her drink was Rohypnol.”
I rubbed my brow, trying to remember why that name sounded so familiar. Then it hit me. “The date rape drug.”
“That’s the one. It was too strong for Nina’s system. The stuff is about ten times more powerful than Valium and her heart couldn’t take it.”
“Who did it?” I was angry, more angry than I’d been in a while. My fingers shook as I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Nine did it, Leah.”
I just looked at Rena, the shock plain on my face.
“As Nina’s friends pushed through the crowd, Nine saw them coming and got scared. He pushed her into the arms of one of his crew before bolting into the crowd and disappearing. Luckily the boy had enough sense to pull out his cell phone and call an ambulance.”
“He was here. I came home and he was waiting for me.” I shivered, recalling the wild, cornered look in his eyes that evening. “He seemed desperate to find out where Nina had gone.”
“He should have been. Putting that drug in her drink was criminal. Nine could be facing attempted kidnapping and illegal drug abuse charges.”
“Why did he do it?”
She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “He didn’t want to hurt Nina. The boy has a crush on her. Somebody told him that the drug makes people relax. He wanted to talk with her and was afraid he’d get shot down in front of his crew.”
“And you believe that?”
“Yes.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Why?”
“Because he had his little brother in the car outside the club that night.”
“His little brother?” I repeated skeptically.
“Who is apparently another big fan of Nina’s. All I know is that Nine would have rather cut himself then hurt the girl. The boy was crying.”
“If his intentions were so pure, why the drug?”
“Stupidity.”
“Lord have mercy,” I swore. “How do you know all this?”
“Nine was at the airport last night,” she answered.
“What?” I exclaimed.
“So was Michael.”
“Why?”
“How do you think Nine got our address?” she asked. I shook my head, not knowing where she was going with that question.
“He didn’t get it out of the phone book, we’re unlisted.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Michael told Nine to come over here and find out where Nina was.” She continued after pulling on the belt of her robe, “I checked my voicemail while I was in Bermuda. Michael left me messages that go from outright threats to bribery. The man told me that he’d make sure I never worked in the business again unless I got Nina to ‘forget’ about the incident.”
“The man can’t be that stupid,” I said doubtfully.
“Oh, he is, and I’ve got it on tape. I’m going to hand in my resignation and a complaint this morning. By afternoon it’ll be all over the street.”
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“I want to nail the bastard to the cross.”
“Which one?” I asked softly.
“Michael. What Nine did is inexcusable and unacceptable, but he’s little more than a scared boy. Michael, on the other hand, knew what he was doing by pressuring me and sending Nine over here. If I could just get him in a room.” I looked down, noticing Rena’s hands had curled into fists.
“I’m coming with you,” I declared.
“Thanks, but this is something I need to do on my own. I have a nine o’clock meeting with the corporate executive in charge of my division and then I’m going to pick Nina up at the airport.”
“What are you going to do after all this breaks?” I asked.
“Take some time and to do some soul searching. I don’t think I can take this anymore. The whole game has changed, and I don’t like the new rules.”
“Do you want to move back to the West Coast?”
“No. That wouldn’t help. It’s the same no matter which coast we live on. Maybe I’ll start my own label or something. I could try my hand at other things. Who knows? I’ve got so much going on right now that I can’t even think straight.”
“You know I’ve got your back, right?” I said.
“I know.” She leaned over and we gave one another a super tight hug. “You, Ralph, Mom, and Pop are the most important people in my life.”
Simba took that moment to let out a loud meow.
“You too, fur ball.” She laughed, patting him on his head.
“Speaking of Mom and Pop,” Rena said, standing up. “When are they due back from that cruise? Pop’s going to go through the roof after hearing about what happened.”
“They’ll be back in two weeks.”
“Now what’s up with you, miss?” Rena raised an eyebrow.
“What about me?” I dropped my eyes.
“Why was I hearing Sean sneaking out your room at five-thirty this morning?”
“He had a television interview.”
Rena’s smile got wider and she crossed her arms.
“Oh no,” I protested. “It’s not what you think. We just fell asleep after talking. End of story.”
“How about end of denial?” Rena shot back. “Your cheeks were flushed and you had that guilty look on your face when I came into the room.”
“I felt bad for waking you up,” I fibbed. I hadn’t even known she was home.
Rena’s eyebrow lifted. “Really?”
“We’re just friends, Rena.”
“For now, but it can change.” Her voice filled with concern. “The line gets thinner each day. Sean’s a wonderful man, but he operates in a whole other world and I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Don’t worry. I can take care of myself,” I replied.
Rena rose off the coach and headed for the kitchen. As she neared the doorway she paused. “Cuz?”
“Yes.”
Rena grinned wickedly. “You might want to check the buttons on your blouse the next time you guys just fall asleep.”
Chapter 13
I jumped every time the phone buzzed at work that day, thinking that it was Sean. No matter how much I tried, the way we’d kissed stayed in my mind. It wasn’t until around three o’clock that I got my nerves under control and started worrying about Rena. I kept looking at the clock, hoping the dial had miraculously sped up.
“Leah?”
“Yes?” I glanced up from a report I was in the process of reading to see my administrative assistant peek her head in the door.
“There’s a delivery for you downstairs.”
I put down my pen. “They can’t bring it up?”
“The guard said something about not being able to let the guy in and that you’d have to come down and sign for it in person.”
“That’s odd,” I muttered and pushed back from my desk. “Rachel, could you tell them I’m on my way?”
“Sure thing.”
By the time I got downstairs, I was beyond curious. But the sight that greeted me as I walked to the area behind the security desk knocked me for a loop. Leaning against the wall holding a large white teddy bear, sporting a baseball cap, jeans, and a short sleeve shirt, stood Sean. I couldn’t keep the look of surprise off my face.
“What—” I started.
“Package for you, miss.”
“Thank you,” I responded automatically as I reached out to take the teddy bear that he offered.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane to Arizona?” I asked.
“I’m here to take you with me,” he said.
I sighed and closed my eyes, praying for patience. “I can’t go with you, Sean.”
“Can’t or won’t?” he challenged.
“You can’t…you shouldn’t…” I looked away and for the first time noticed the long looks that were being thrown our way by the people entering and leaving the building. This wasn’t a conversation that I wanted to have in front of an audience.
He seemed to read my mind. “Marc’s out front. We can talk in the car.”
I nodded my head and followed Sean through the glass doors. Marc stood by the parked Town Car and opened the door to admit us inside. Once behind the tinted windows, I felt more nervous than in front of strangers’ eyes. The artificial cool air sent a chill down my arms.
“You’re worried about what happened this morning?” he asked.
“What?” I questioned, caught off guard by his bringing up the kiss.
“If you’re upset about the kiss, I promise you’ll be safe as a nun in church. You can trust that I’d never hurt you.” His green eyes looked into mine.
I shook my head. Shoot, I’d probably taken advantage of him this morning and here he was thinking that I was scared of him? If only he knew. “No, Sean, it’s not that I don’t want to go, but I can’t just get up and leave. I have responsibilities, and Rena needs me right now.”
He shook his head, and I could already tell that this wasn’t going to be easy. Sean liked to get his way almost as much as I did.
“What if I said I needed you?” He moved closer and took hold of my hands.
I smiled and tried to make light of the situation. “Rena needs me more.”
“What about your needs? When are you going to take some time for yourself?”
“I know the story,” I said and waved my hand dismissively. He’d given me the same lecture before.
“Yes, Leah, but you missed the point.” He looked at me, and it was a long, almost sad look.
I shook my head and reached for the door handle, angry with Sean for pushing the issue. “No, I didn’t miss the point. I got it loud and clear. When Sean Patrick Andrews, lead singer of Exile, needs me then it’s okay. But when other people need me it’s not. Well, I’m sorry but I can’t just run off to some secluded spot in the middle of the desert and leave Rena high and dry.”
By the time I finished, I couldn’t breathe, could barely hear over the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I threw open the door and tore out of the Lincoln Town Car clutching the teddy bear to my chest. I practically sprinted into the office building, not even bothering to turn around as I heard Sean’s voice shouting my name.
I barely made it to my office before I collapsed into my chair. It wasn’t like we never fought. We’d go at it for hours over the latest ethical view or political scandal. Yet this time had been different. I hadn’t wanted to fight with Sean and my victory felt hollow. As I sat there staring blankly at the report with one hand clutching a shaking pen and the other holding on to the soft white teddy bear, I wished I’d had the courage to lose.
* * *
What does anger look like? If I could paint, what color would it be? Not blood red but moonlit black shadows. It’d be the image of Rena at one o’clock in the morning, shouting at the empty wicker chair.
The sound of crying had pulled me from my restless sleep and I quietly got out of bed and walked into the living room to see her talking to the empty wicker chair. She’d found the letter. I’d buried it under a pile of mail hoping against hope that she’d just throw it away. Like the change of seasons, this was something I couldn’t stop.
“I hope you rot in hell. Do you hear me?” Her voice was slightly slurred.
“Do you know what you’ve done to me? Of course not,” she raged.
There was a brief pause and I stood in the shadows and watched her raise the half-filled glass to her lips.
“You want my forgiveness? Never. I wouldn’t spit on your ass if you were on fire. If I could I’d watch you fry, hell, I’d throw the switch. Then again, that’s too easy. I want you to suffer,” she sniffed.
She waved her glass towards the chair. “You wanted this. Just had to go out and have another drink, huh? My parents are lying cold, so cold, under six feet of earth. They should be here,” she screamed. “With me. They should be lying in bed with pillows and blankets watching the evening news and talking about having grandkids.”
I crept towards her as she tossed down the contents of the glass and slammed it down on the side table.
“How do you like that price? The lives of two people for a bottle. You want my forgiveness? Bring them back to me…Just bring them back to me,” she sobbed as I stood frozen by the child-like tone of her voice.
Always in the past I would tuck Rena into bed, curl up in her green velvet chair, and close my tear-filled eyes. I wanted it to be someone’s, anyone’s, fault, but it wasn’t. The convicted felon whose letters begged for forgiveness couldn’t be blamed for all the bad things life threw at you. Blame wouldn’t lift my aunt and uncle from the grave. Nothing could take away the demons that drove Rena. The hurt stayed and that was the hardest to bear.
I went over to the table and grabbed the half empty bottle. “What’d you do that for?” Rena asked.
“Because you don’t need this.”
“Yes, I do.” Rena tried to stand and weakly sat back down on the sofa.
I walked over and picked up the phone, thinking to call Mom and Pop.
“Damn,” I muttered remembering that they were somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Instead, I looked down at the open address book on the table and started dialing.
“Who are you calling?” Rena asked, her voice slurred.
“Someone that can help.”
“I don’t need anyone.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” I shook the phone. I knew denial like I knew the back of my hand. Rena had lived with it too damn long. I’d lived with it too long.
“I can’t let you do this anymore,” I muttered to myself while paging though the little phone book. My fingers shook as I pushed the buttons on the cordless phone.
“Hello?” Trey’s sleepy voice came over the line.
“Can you come over?” I asked, moving towards the kitchen.
“Leah? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Rena.” I paused. “I need your help.”
“She all right?” he asked hurriedly. I could hear the sound of clothes rustling in the background.
“No, she’s not,” I admitted out loud for the first time. “I’m hoping that you can get through to her.”
“I’m on my way, okay? Just sit tight.”
“Thank you,” I replied before hitting the off button on the phone. Turning, I gazed into the living room to see Rena staring out the window. The tears running down her face mimicked my own.
Later, after Trey had come and promised to take Rena home to Texas the next day, I lay in bed trying to sleep in spite of the sounds of Simba purring on the pillow next to mine. After praying to the Lord to keep her safe, I could only hope that Trey’s mother could help Rena heal. And so as the clock struck three, I closed my eyes, trying to remember the low, sweet music Sean made when strumming his guitar. But the sound of Rena’s pleas haunted me, following me into oblivion.
* * *
“What’s up, guys?” I asked as my co-workers, Bahni and Tami, came into my office and shut the door.
“It’s her, Bahni,” Tami declared. I watched as she held up a newspaper picture.
“She would have said something,” the young Indian woman replied.
“Look at her,” Tami told Bahni. I put down my pen and looked at the both of them as if they’d lost their collective minds.
“Did you two get hold of some spiked cappuccino or something?” I asked, rubbing my eyes, trying to rid them of the itchy feeling that came with lack of sleep.
Tami walked over and laid a newspaper down on my desk. “You read this stuff?” I asked, surprised that the trendy graphics designer had a copy of the popular celebrity tabloid.
“I have to have something to look at on the train. Besides, my roommate has a subscription. She’s like some kind of celebrity groupie.”
“So what’s got you guys so hyper this morning?” I asked.
“Tami thinks…” Bahni started.
“Just turn to page six,” Tami interrupted.
I turned the pages and when I got to page six my stomach dropped to the floor and the office seemed to dim. I was staring down at a picture of Sean and me laughing as we walked arm and arm in the park. Against my will, I read the article.
Bahni’s voice seemed to come from far away. “Tami thinks that’s a picture of you, Leah.”
Seems as though the media-shy lead singer of Exile has found a new muse. With Delia filming and playing with co-star Nicholas Chapman on the set of her upcoming period flick, Sean Andrews is humming a new tune. This photo, taken at Central Park by a local New York photographer, caught the happy couple at play. Sources close to Sean Andrews say the singer has purchased new Manhattan digs to be close to his new mystery lady love.
The phone buzzed and I jabbed the button on the speakerphone while gazing down at the newspaper color photo in horror. Millions of people all the world over would be looking at me.
“Yes,” I said woodenly.
“Line one for you, Leah.”
“Could you take a message? I can’t talk right now.” I couldn’t even think at that moment. I couldn’t do anything except breathe.
“I’m afraid he’s really persistent. He’s called and zeroed out your voicemail every ten minutes since nine o’clock this morning.”
I felt a pain in the back of my eyes as I looked up into Tami’s smiling face. The young web developer stood there staring at me as if I were Moses come down from the mount.
“I can’t talk right now,” I said.
“She’s really busy, Trace,” Bahni chimed in.
There was a pause before Tracy came back on the line. “Leah, Sean said to say ‘Pick up the phone, darling.’ ”
My face drained of any color that I’d gained as Bahni’s eyebrow arched and she gave me a curious look. Tami had no shame. “Just a friend, huh? Oh, my God, he’s so dreamy. Can I get his autograph?”
I gave the auburn-haired Cal Tech graduate a look only a black woman could give. The one that sent men running, kids cowering, and told women that something was about to break loose unless one of them left. Lucky for Tami, at that moment when I really wanted to reach over my desk and wring her neck, Bahni picked up the hint and ushered her toward the door.
“You are so much cooler than that actress he was dating,” Tami exclaimed. “I heard she was a real bitch. My friend Tom did her makeup for Sundance and she was like completely rude. You know she’s seeing Joan Rivers’s plastic surgeon.”
As the door closed behind them, I sank down into the chair and picked up the phone. “You knew about the photo,” I accused. The pieces began to fit together. Sean’s persistence in trying to get me to leave with him yesterday took on a new meaning.
“I had an idea,” he replied. “I thought you’d get upset and I hoped that it wouldn’t be published,” he said in a rush.
“How?” I just had to ask. Not that it mattered.
“Rick got a call on Monday morning to confirm.”
“Oh, God.” I dropped down into my chair and closed my eyes. “I’m in the
National Enquirer
! Sean, what am I going to do? Two of my co-workers just finished gathering in my office like star-struck teenagers.”
I almost panicked. “Wait. No one really reads tabloids anymore.”
“It’s going to be all right,” he said.
I started to calm down and scanned the article for my name. I breathed a sigh of relief at seeing that I had been labeled as the ‘mystery woman.’ ”You’re right, at least they don’t have my name.”
When Sean didn’t say anything, I tensed back up. “Sean?”
“Other papers have picked up the photo and now it’s all over the Internet. Mike started getting calls yesterday morning and the phone hasn’t stopped ringing. Trey called me this morning, so I know Rena’s on her way to Texas. I bought a ticket to Phoenix for you. Just show up at LaGuardia Airport for the 9:30 a.m. American Airlines flight to Phoenix connecting through O’Hare. You’ll get in around 11:50 a.m.”
“Sean, there are plenty of black women who look like me in New York City,” I said slowly.
He sighed. “Don’t question this, just be on the flight. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport.”
“How long do I have?”
I wanted to run home and hide under the covers and wake up in the morning to find out this was just one long, nasty nightmare.
“They’ll have your name, address and life history before the eleven o’clock news.”
I hung my head and rubbed my neck, feeling a migraine start in the back of my eyes.
“I can’t just up and leave. What am I going to do with Simba?”
“Bring him along. It’s about time I got to spend some time with him.”