Hidden Intentions 2 Read online

“So you like to share with others. I’m learning something about you already.”

  “I guess you are. I love the ladies that I work with each day. I couldn’t ask for a better team to run the hospital floors with.” I nodded.

  “I can tell you’re different from other women, so I had to try a different approach. I didn’t know you were sponsored to walk as well.”

  “Yes, along with hospital staff, family, friends and me, we all pitched in to help for such a worthy cause. I exceeded the goal of five thousand dollars and ended up raising about seventy-five hundred dollars.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for taking the time to be with the March of Dimes organization today. We are very grateful and appreciate the time and effort our sponsors and many volunteers have put into this event to make it happen. We will begin in ten minutes. If you’re walking, please be ready at the starting line, which is to my left.” The announcer on a microphone pointed in the direction we needed to go.

  “What made you get involved with the March of Dimes?” I inquired after the walk had begun.

  “My mother drank alcohol while pregnant with my little sister. Needless to say, she was born premature. Thankfully, she had no birth defects and grew up as a normal kid. My mother finally kicked the booze after my baby brother came along, and she joined forces with the March of Dimes. That was twenty-five years ago. Ever since, my whole family has been involved. I usually give money, but this year, I wanted to walk as well. You know, it truly feels good to give and help others out. What about you?”

  “This is my second year walking in the March of Dimes. I also enjoy raising awareness for this cause.”

  “Enough about me. Where are you from?”

  “I was born and raised in Virginia Beach. That’s right. I’m a beach girl to the fullest. I have a sister named Leah. She’s only two years younger than me, and we’re quite close. It’s only the two of us. My parents decided not to have any more kids. I’m truly a daddy’s girl at heart.” I giggled.

  “I’m originally from Kennesaw, Georgia. I’m the oldest out of the three of us. My brother and sister live in Atlanta, and I’m here all by myself.”

  “Why did you settle here?”

  “Well, I went to school to study law at Old Dominion University.”

  “I graduated there with a nursing degree a few years back.”

  “I never graduated. College just wasn’t for me.”

  “Well, it’s not for everybody.”

  “After I left Old Dominion, I went back home to visit my parents. They were quite disappointed that I didn’t complete my courses to get a degree, especially my mother. My father said, ‘Boy, you got three options, which is the military, become a welder, or join the family business of heating and air.’ I went to school, joined forces with my father, and twelve years later, my business is standing strong. My father taught me a lot about building strong business relationships. In fact, seventy-five percent of the business coming in is from word of mouth and referrals from people who have used my services and have been satisfied.”

  “How old are you?” I questioned, impressed with his last remark.

  “I’m thirty-two. I’ll be thirty-three in December.” He nodded.

  “This year, I turn twenty-nine in November. We’re both late babies in the year.”

  “Is there anyone special in your life?”

  “No, not at this time. It used to be my soon-tobe ex-husband. He and I were married for four years. We were happy.” I wondered if I could handle divorcing him. If I see him with another bottle in his hand, I would sign the dotted line on the divorce papers so fast.

  “What happened?”

  “After his father died of a sudden heart attack, he took a turn for the worse and began drinking. In his mind, alcohol helped him cope better with the loss of his father. It consumed him and destroyed our marriage. I gave him an ultimatum. It was either me or the bottle. He not only left me, but he also left his tight-knit family. He left all of us. It’s really taken a toll on his poor mother. It’s ironic how both of us have dealt with loved ones and alcohol addiction.”

  “Yes, it is. Have you tried looking for him?”

  “I have tried looking for him by going to the police and hiring a private investigators. Nothing has turned up. It’s as if he’s vanished with no trace, but I can only assume that’s how he wanted it. Ten months and counting was the last time, I laid eyes on him,” I vented, looking down.

  Vince responded with a sympathetic tone. “That situation probably hurt you bad.”

  “Oh yes. I couldn’t get out of bed for weeks. Then one day I decided that my husband had made his choice to ride off into the sunset with alcohol. Now, I’m making the choice to move on with my life. I often wonder why this has happened to me. I’m stronger now, but it damn sure knocked me down for a while. And I still wonder why I had to go through all this.”

  “I often wondered the same thing when I saw my mom trying to drink herself to death. The only advice I can give you from my experience is that when he finally chooses to stop drinking, he will, but it has to be on his terms.”

  “I suppose. Most times, still I fear the worst. For a while, every time my phone rang or the doorbell rang, I imagined it was a state trooper or police officer telling me that he’d died. He’s put me through so much. I don’t see myself ever being friendly or even cordial toward him.”

  “It took me many years to reestablish a healthy relationship with my mother. My sister had the most resentment. On the day she got her period, Mom was too busy drinking to take her to the drug store to pick up female products. Since my father was at work, I had to pick up the slack and take her. The girl I was dating at the time showed her how to use a maxi pad.”

  “That was noble of you,” I said, impressed by him again.

  “I’m very protective of my sister.”

  “Are you dating someone?”

  “No, I’m not right now. I was married once. After Charlene, my ex-wife, found out that I left ODU, our relationship went into a downward spiral. To be honest, at heart, I’m just a plain old country boy, and she was a city girl. We just weren’t compatible. She tried to change me, but it didn’t work. Despite me paying every last bill in the house, it still wasn’t good enough for her. After she finished up her degree at ODU, she became a court reporter. She kept nagging me about going back to school to be a lawyer. I told her so many times to stop trying to convince me because I wasn’t going back. It put a severe strain on our marriage. Not to mention, her expensive lifestyle wasn’t helping things either. Dining out all the time in expensive restaurants, shopping at high-end fashion boutiques, and desperately trying to keep up with the Joneses was all she cared about. It wasn’t in my best interest to stay with her anymore. We’ve been divorced for three years. Now she sees I am successful and have my own business, she wants me to give the marriage another try. I don’t want her back though. Ultimately, I know deep down she will never accept me for who I really am.”

  “Do you have any little ones running around?”

  “No, I don’t have any kids. One day, I wouldn’t mind having a little Vince Junior watching television in the man cave with me.”

  “Is your man cave inside or outside of your house?” I asked, trying my best to keep a straight face.

  “It’s inside. I have a spare bedroom that I use. It’s where I hold all my Pittsburgh Steelers gear—cups, T-shirts, jackets, raincoat, an umbrella, and a few posters.”

  I laughed. “You’re definitely a fan.”

  “That’s right. My whole family, we love our Steelers. What about you, Nya? Do you have any children?”

  “Nope. It was in the plans, but things didn’t work out that way.”

  Our conversation went everywhere, we talking about everything under the sun.

  Before we knew it, the walk was over. Afterward, all walkers were treated to lunch, which consisted of turkey, ham, or roast beef sandwiches, Baked! Lays chips, a drink, and a chocolate chip cookie,
courtesy of Quiznos. After getting our food, Vince and I huddled over to a nearby tree to sit down and eat.

  “What plans do you have for the rest of the day?” he asked.

  “I have a late shift tonight. One of the team members called out sick, and I’m on call today.”

  “I parked nearby. Are you?”

  “No, the garage park is where my Camry sits.”

  “May I take you to your car?”

  “Yes.”

  Vince led me to the direction of his vehicle. Once inside, he turned on his CD player and jazz music started playing

  “Nice truck,” I said, checking out his metallic GMC Denali.

  “Thank you. I just got this not too long ago. It comes in handy when I’m lugging around parts.”

  “You’re welcome. Hmm. So you’re a jazz fan?”

  “I’m a Miles fan. He’s one of my favorites. If I’d had a trying day at work, I kick back, put on my iPod, and listen to the sounds.”

  “Make a right and my car should be on the left-hand side.”

  “Here we are. Thank you for coming out to walk with me. I enjoyed myself.’

  “Likewise,” I replied, a tad disappointed our time was up.

  “Can I give you my number?”

  “Sure. I’ll you give mine as well.”

  Vince watched me get into my car. Next stop would be my house to take a hot shower and get a nap in before walking through those hospital doors.

  Chapter 37

  Vince had officially gotten the nice-guy title. It’d been five weeks and he’d been nothing but a gentleman to me. I looked forward to hearing from him. Due to our hectic schedules, we didn’t get to talk every day, or every other day for that matter, but “good morning” text messages helped me through the day, and “sweet dreams” text messages sure helped me get through the night. These little things meant the most to me.

  Lately, I’d been working a lot of overtime. Since foreclosed homes were on the rise and showing up everywhere in Virginia Beach, Norfolk, Portsmouth, Suffolk, and Chesapeake, where I lived, the property taxes on homes had skyrocketed. I was required to pay one hundred and fifty dollars more a month.

  The paychecks from Tory’s boss were due to run out soon. I couldn’t blame him. He couldn’t direct-deposit that check into our account forever. At the end of the day, Irv still had a business to run.

  Pretty soon, I’d be paying the mortgage and the rest of the bills by myself. I refused to let the sheriffs put a padlock on my front door. Sure, I still had the cash tucked away securely into my safety deposit box, but I only wanted to use it for emergencies.

  Tonight, I was hanging out with the girls down at the beach at a fairly new, exclusive club called the Skybar, located on top of the four-star Hilton Hotel. Since having the baby, Tara didn’t go out at all, so she was very eager to get out tonight. She still had to prove to herself that she was still a showstopper. To flock to this club on a regular basis, membership was required, which cost a few hundred dollars. Luckily, I was able to nab free admission and VIP passes from a patient of mine who worked there.

  Many people were standing in line hoping to get in. The four of us got to bypass everyone with our VIP passes. Inside the club, a tray giving the illusion of a burning candle first caught my eye. And the waitresses wore white dresses with ballerina shoes.

  Next, I noticed two bars and two pools, but no one was in the pool, and people were standing around it. I didn’t see any tables either. Instead, lawn chairs and exotic plants were laid out. The lights were an illuminating blue color, and people were lying down on king-size beds placed at each end of the club, sipping on their complimentary champagne. The beds replaced the VIP section.

  We were definitely not going to be getting one of those beds tonight. Even with VIP passes, the price to sit or lie on one of those luxurious beds was one thousand dollars.

  So many people were waiting on drinks from the bar, yet we were lucky enough that one of the waitresses was kind enough to take our drink orders from near the bed we were standing by.

  The DJ played “Addiction” by Ryan Leslie, “Viva la Vida” by Coldplay, “American Boy” by Estelle, “Superstar” by Lupe Fiasco, followed by

  “Good Life” by Kanye West.

  “Four people just got up from the chairs over there. Let’s go sit down,” I suggested before heading over there, trying to hurry up so we’d get there before anyone else.

  “Ladies, I finally found you all. Here are your drinks.” The waitress grinned. Good service was worth a twenty-dollar tip from me.

  “Thank you,” we all replied in unison.

  “Paper Planes” by M.I.A. started playing. That was our cue to get on the dance floor.

  Afterward, Leah attempted to get the DJ to play reggae, and he managed to find some tunes by Beenie Man, Sizzla, and Sean Kingston.

  A woman tapped me on my shoulder. “Excuse me.”

  I turned around to face her. She looked to be in her mid-forties, and was well manicured and adorned in jewelry. “Yes?”

  “My friend and I were just leaving. This bed cost me a thousand bucks, and I don’t want it to go to waste. Your party is welcome to enjoy the rest of the evening on it.”

  “Thank you,” I said, smiling.

  “No. Thank you. On my way out, I’ll let the waitress know you’ll be taking it over. I know who you are.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, a while back, I saw you on the news about that scandal at Drug Aid. That pharmacist was a complete jerk. You definitely showed him. It empowered me. My friends and I couldn’t stop talking about it for a week. I’m not a woman to reveal my age, but years ago, when I was starting out in the corporate world, my boss came on to me. I didn’t report it. You’ve encouraged women all over the world to take a stand against sexual harassment. By the way,” she yelled over the music, “I hope you know the news segment has been playing on YouTube.com.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that.” I smiled and nodded.

  The night turned out great. We laughed, drank, and danced the night away. Leah and Tara, of course, were the center of attention. Leah was ecstatic to be able to party with her friend again, and Tara felt redeemed that, after becoming a mother, she still knew how to have fun and party.

  Chapter 38

  The two things I loved about Vince’s house was the spacious three-piece sectional in the living room, and the home theatre. Nine years ago, he’d bought a foreclosed home in Virginia Beach. Vince showed me pictures of before and after the renovation. The previous owners had left with a bang, literally. There were countless holes in the walls, cabinets torn down, and the banister was missing from the staircase. Not to mention, their dog had urinated all over the carpet. It looked as if Vince gutted the whole house and started from scratch. I’m proud to say he’d done most of the work himself. I couldn’t even take painting for five minutes without getting a nagging headache. I considered myself a diva, so no tool belt for me.

  I was heading to his house when he called and asked me to meet him somewhere else. He was waiting for me at the door.

  “Why did you have me meet you here?” I asked as I walked up the stairs toward the entrance of the building.

  “I haven’t told anyone this, but I’m taking courses here. I’m not a student at the Culinary Institute, but annually a class is offered and open to the public.”

  “You should have told me. I can help you cook.”

  “I’m sure you can, but a bachelor has got to learn on his own. One of the things I look forward to when visiting my hometown is Momma’s cooking. Unfortunately, I can’t bring her home with me, so I can’t have her home cooking on a daily basis. One of the assignments is to invite someone to try a meal that you’ve prepared. The first person I thought of was you.” Vince grinned.

  “Aaaw, I’m honored. Show me the way,” I said, walking into the building.

  “Here is a list of each item you will taste. You must judge me on presentation, texture, and overall quality of t
he food.”

  “Will do.” I nodded with a hint of excitement.

  “How do you like your steak cooked? Rare, medium rare, or well done?”

  Vince helped me into a chair. It wasn’t part of the requirement, but I had to admit, I loved how I was being treated right now.

  “Rare steak is going into the absolute danger zone for me. I prefer medium, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Vince was a preparing fried mozzarella cheese sticks with a side of marinara sauce. He dropped the entire bag of cheese sticks on the floor. To keep from laughing, I bit my tongue. From the expression on his face, you would’ve thought the world was coming to an end.

  The main course was a peppercorn-crusted steak, fried sweet potato fries with a honey-glazed sauce, and sautéed spinach with fresh onions and garlic. And dessert was the ultimate sugar delight. Vince dipped a Snickers bar in a sweet flour batter on a wooden stick and fried it. Once it came out of the fryer, he sprinkled powdered sugar on it and drizzled Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup. I could have eaten the whole thing by myself.

  “How did I do?” he asked after I handed his instructor the score sheet.

  “Are you sure you haven’t cooked before?”

  “Yes.” He nodded.

  “You get an A plus, one hundred, or whatever the highest score can be. I could tell you were nervous at first. Eventually, you calmed down while preparing the food. Thank you for letting me take on the task of being your taste tester. More importantly, I appreciate the effort you put into it.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Where to now?” I inquired as we walked out of the building.

  “Since my house is closer, let’s park your car there, and we can ride together to catch the ferry.”

  “All right, I will follow you.”

  The ferry ride took us to Norfolk, where we stayed for a little while and walked around.

  “Can you believe the city of Norfolk could be considering tearing down Waterside?” Vince asked. “I saw an article in the paper about it.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that. It has been around for ages. As a child, I remember coming here. There was a fudge station, and the employees would sing and pass out free samples to anyone who walked by. Plus, the main reason we came down here were for the crabs. Mommy taught my sister and I how to eat them here. There’s a true art to eating them.”