a couple years ago when Julian and I broke up?”
“Like the for-real breakup, because you turned down his marriage proposal and broke the guy’s heart? Yep, I remember.”
“Dang, Paige, did you have to say it like that?”
“To clarify which off-and-on we were talking about? Yes, I did. Besides, isn’t that what happened?”
“Anyway...remember my rebound guy, the pro basketball player?” Nicki placed air quotes around his title.
“Told you that he played pro ball, left out that he hadn’t had a contract in years?”
“I still can’t believe I didn’t google his ass.”
Nicki paused and looked out the window. A mental replay of meeting Vince Edwards played in her mind.
Late-night party uptown. Private. Rooftop. Being beautiful seemed the price of admission. A stranger approached while she sipped a drink. Introduced himself as Vince Edwards, a pro basketball player. He’d sure looked the part. Tall, attractive. Muscles and dimples in all the right places, with enough raw manly swagger to bottle and sell. When they hugged she got goose bumps, but along with the excitement came a foreboding feeling. She ignored it and gave him her number.
A couple of weeks into the romantic whirlwind, behaviors began to surface that had reminded Nicki of her earlier apprehensiveness. The first was declaring his love for her a week after they met. The second was falling in love with her brownstone that—number three—he wanted to move into after the second week. Nicki saw more red flags after this request than those waved in Arrowhead Stadium at a Chiefs football game. But she’d continued to date him. Until the fourth reason—a woman named Brittany. The woman with whom he currently lived. The woman who’d threatened to kick him out for cheating, and not just with Nicki. In a calm, almost pleasant voice, the astute stranger had passed along a few pertinent details Vince had not shared. Multiple children. Gambling habit. No new sports contract or endorsement deals. Nicki thanked the woman and meant it. Got back with Julian a short time later, thankful she’d dodged a bullet.
“I thought you blocked his number.”
“I did. A call came up private. I answered it without a second thought.”
“What did he want?”
“Nothing much. Just wondered if I had twenty thousand dollars to loan him.”
Paige screeched. “WTF?”
“Oh, and he needs it by Friday. Can you believe it?”
“How’d he figure you had that kind of money?”
“I guess because I’m on a Broadway stage.”
“Even so, why’d he think you’d loan it to him?”
“That’s where it really gets crazy. He’s taking credit for the show I did in Atlanta shortly after we broke up. Says he pulled the strings that got me the job.”
“Ooh, right! And he showed up backstage claiming y’all were a couple. Wasn’t the director his sister or something?”
“Cousin, and it turned out only a distant one at that. He had nothing to do with me getting that job. I auditioned like everyone else. What a liar.”
“You guys didn’t even date that long. What was it, a month?”
“Barely.”
“Jeez. So what did you say when he asked you?”
“What do you think I said? No! Then he had the nerve to ask me out!”
“What was your answer?” Paige asked, laughing.
“Hell no!”
Nicki tried not to laugh but was soon cracking up. Paige always made her feel better.
“Do you think he’ll call again?”
“With the size of his ego? I don’t doubt it.”
They reached Paige’s apartment building in trendy SoHo. The driver dropped Paige off, headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge and twenty minutes later was at Nicki’s place, a three-story brownstone that had been converted into two apartments. Hers was the larger one and occupied the two upper floors. It was spacious and airy, with tall ceilings and big windows to let in lots of natural light. Her respite from the grind of the theater district, where she practically lived six days a week.
“Bye, Joe.” She blew a kiss to the driver, then opened the gate and hurried up the steps to the second-floor entrance. Within seconds she’d kicked off her shoes and walked to the kitchen in search of something sparkling with a kick. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but a wine spritzer after two shows helped her wind down.
“Nothing,” she mumbled, looking in the fridge. “Great.”
Bypassing the heels she’d just kicked off, Nicki grabbed a pair of sandals from the hallway shoe rack and headed to the corner store that, luckily for her, stayed open until eleven. After picking out her favorite chardonnay and a liter of sparkling water, she headed back home. The street was sparsely populated and quiet, typical for this time on a Wednesday night. As she neared her walk-up, two men got out of a car parked in front. Ever the New Yorker, she was on instant alert but didn’t pick up any negative vibes. They talked casually, even laughed as the driver tapped the key fob to lock the car. Nicki relaxed, stepped to the right to walk by them. The driver, to his left. She looked up, expecting a come-on. The man was not laughing. At all.
She took a step in the other direction. The passenger had come from the other side of the car and stood in front of her.
A frustrated sigh gave her the chance to quickly scan the areas behind and beside her. Suddenly the streets were empty. Not another person in sight. Why didn’t I buy groceries on Monday, instead of spending the day on Long Island catching up with friends? Instead of fifteen dollars and some change, her desire for a sparkling libation could cost a lot more. Her brownstone was only two doors down. If she could just get around them...
Summoning her Brooklyn-born-and-bred attitude, she raised to her full height of five foot eight and looked the man standing in front of her directly in the eye. At the same time, she positioned her house key between her index and middle fingers, ready to puncture a cheek or gouge out an eye.
“Let me by.”
“Nicki Long, right?”
Caught entirely off guard, she couldn’t hide her surprise. “Who are you?”
“Friends of Vince. Come to get the money you owe him.”
Seriously? Vince’s ego was bigger than she realized. But if he thought this Brooklyn babe could be intimated, he had another thought coming.
“You have the wrong Nicki. I don’t owe Vince a thing.” She took a step to go around the guy talking, the one on the right. He stepped, too, in front of her.
“Move,” she commanded, now truly more annoyed than angry. “Vince has obviously lied to you, just like he did to me. I hope the promise of money wasn’t one of them.”
The
