Authors: Marissa Monteilh
Mercedes kept her focus on her computer screen. “If you’re here to talk about work, I’m available. Otherwise I’m working on a project, Colette.”
Colette stood over Mercedes’s desk. “Mercedes, why are you suddenly treating me like a stranger?”
“Why are you acting like someone I don’t know?” Mercedes looked at her, tilting her head as if trying to figure her out.
“You act like you’ve never had your heart broken.”
“Colette, this is between you and Torino. He’s my husband’s brother. What do you expect me to do?”
“Just the fact that you’re doing nothing answers my question.”
Mercedes flipped through some papers. “Then why did you even ask me? I already know you’ve driven by the house.”
“Yes.”
“Why do you do that?”
Colette ignored her question, giving a nervous sigh like she had all of the evidence already. “I’ve seen that dark green Jaguar.”
“What good does it do to drive by? It can only make you feel worse.”
“It gives me the answer that he won’t give me. Even you won’t give it to me. I have to look out for myself.”
“Have you asked him?”
Colette strode a trail from the window, back to Mercedes’s desk, almost looking embarrassed to say it. “Yes. But he won’t take my calls.”
“Colette, it’s over. You’ve got to get to the point where you can move on.”
“I know, but I still love him.”
Mercedes looked up at her. “It takes time. You can’t expect the feelings to go away so soon. Have you thought about dating someone else?”
“Yes, that’s one reason why Torino won’t talk to me.”
“Don’t tell me he’s jealous.”
“Jealous, no—mad as hell, yes. I started seeing Kyle.”
Mercedes sat back. “Kyle? Girl, you must admit that is pretty low. That’s his best friend.”
“Not anymore.” Colette said faintly, moving closer to Mercedes, leaning her hands flat on the desk, pressing the weight of her body forward. “So you mean to tell me that your best friend didn’t tell you about Kyle and me? Don’t tell me she doesn’t know.”
Mercedes faced her stare. “Colette, like I said, this is between the two of you. I’ve gone beyond what I should have already.” Mercedes picked up a piece of paper and pointed to a date on the spreadsheet. “I have an assignment for you tomorrow at Gucci in Beverly Hills.”
Colette stood at attention, “I can’t make it.”
“Why not?”
Colette looked conflicted. “I have an abortion scheduled for tomorrow, Mercedes. Maybe.”
Mercedes looked annoyed. “I don’t condone abortion. I just want you to really take some time to think about your future and this baby. Don’t allow Torino to be more important than your own life. And don’t try to snag him by bringing a baby into the world either. A baby won’t make a relationship better. If anything, it will
add to the ton of responsibilities and pressure you had before. You have to be ready for that.”
“I hear you,” Colette said, almost sounding like she actually didn’t hear a word.
Mercedes glanced back at her computer screen. “Now, I’m going to leave you on the schedule to appear in the show tomorrow.” She spoke to Colette’s face again. “You show up and I’ll know what’s up. Do you hear me? And eat a good meal. You look mighty scrawny to be pregnant.”
“I will.”
“Colette, I mean it. Take care of yourself.”
“Mercedes, I held on too tight didn’t I?” Colette spoke as if she had ignored Mercedes’s statements.
“I don’t know. Maybe so. But it is time to let go.” Mercedes stood up to walk her out. “Now I’ve got to get back to work. Call me tomorrow morning to let me know you’re okay.” She placed her hand on Colette’s upper arm.
“I will. Good-bye, Mercedes.”
“Colette. I want to see you tomorrow.”
“Take care,” Colette said, walking out the door.
Mercedes closed her door and took a seat at her desk. She checked her daily horoscope which read,
Your sense of duty drives you, and you take great pains to provide security for your family. Your spiritual task is to live full in the present.
She did not react.
She began to type away on her keyboard.
They say we learn where we are in the present from where we’ve been in the past and that our first love begins in our families. Well, mine sure did. The most pivotal moment in my life was when my father took me to dinner when I was fifteen years old. We sat in a booth at the Which Stand restaurant on Overkill. His mission was to take the time to explain what makes a woman secure about the love of a man. What makes a woman virtuous, and what makes a woman secure in herself.
I was never the same after that conversation. Even in the
tenth grade, I understood the roles of a man and a woman based upon the events I’d witnessed in my childhood. My parents were good at being feminine and masculine, and making sure the kids were the priority. They danced well together. He led and she followed. In the days when single parenting was becoming popular, I was blessed by having a loving attentive father who made me feel worthy and valued. He taught me self-love. My most private moment was that day my dad told me I could do anything, that he would love me unconditionally, and that the true worth of a man can be measured by his love and protective nature for his family. Would he die for them?
Well, my father did die for my mother. He suffered a heart attack one year after she died from heart disease. His heart broke for her and now they are together.
I can’t imagine the success of the last nearly two decades with Mason without knowing the love of a male at an early age. I pray that Star knows that love from her dad. It is an invaluable, priceless lesson. I love Mason as a husband, father and a man. He is human and allowed to make mistakes. Knowing that allows me to have unconditional love for him. He is the father of my children. I might require forgiveness from him one day. For now, by the grace of God, nothing is more important than forgiving him and making this work so that we might live the life that the Lord has intended for us to live as a family. But I am angry and I cannot see continuing on as his wife. I ask the Lord to come into my heart, my home and my life at this very moment, and bestow His blessings upon us. I pray for strength, patience and love in dealing with my husband’s sins of the flesh. I ask this in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Mercedes grabbed her purse, turned off her computer and flicked the light switch. “Vicky, I’m going home early. I’ll see you on Friday.”
Mercedes would soon discover that the doctor did not ask them to do their homework to share with him or each other. He’d assigned
it as a personal exercise so they could hear themselves think. And she did indeed, think. As for Mason, well he never got around to doing his homework at all.
In Beverly Hills, Vicky and Mercedes were in fifth gear. It was two hours before the Gucci show for women and three models had not shown up yet. The Gucci store was shut down to the public. The show’s assistant producer fell ill the night before and asked Mercedes to fill in as she’d done before. Only Gucci employees, designers, show staff, and security filled the back dressing room. One of the stylists walked in with a cream-colored satin gown with a corset look.
“This outfit is labeled for Colette,” Vicky told Mercedes.
Mercedes looked over her clipboard list. “Colette would look great in that. But I think we need to focus on Alexis as a backup.”
“Isn’t she a size six? This dress is a size four. We don’t have any size four models left. Unless we give it to one of the swimsuit models from the first portion of the show.”
“Okay, then pull Wilette to model evening wear. I’ll get Alexis to do swimsuits.”
Vicky asked, “Where is Colette anyway?”
“She might be running late. We’ll see what happens in the next hour or so.”
“I’m ready to do makeup,” yelled one of the artists who had set up her table near a corner with a full lighted mirror and open chair all ready to go.
“Fine. Vicky, go get the first model ready for makeup. Keep an assembly line going from face painting to hair like clockwork. That is after they get their fittings done.”
“Will do.”
Within thirty minutes of showtime, the room began to fill up. The mayor of Beverly Hills was in the front row with his wife. The media were all around, interviewing celebrities like Jodie Foster, Phylicia Rashaad and Ivanna Trump who gave their comments on what they expected to see as the new collection was
unveiled. Before long the room was completely full and all was a buzz. Mercedes’s nerves were evident as sweat beads built up over her lip.
“It’s almost showtime,” Vicky told her boss. “Any sign of Colette.”
“She’s a no-show. Let’s just write her off”
Just as Mercedes completed her sentence, she noticed a face in the crowd. She looked away and then did a double take. A face not very familiar by sight, but very familiar by instinct. Mercedes’s vision zoomed in to focus on the seated onlooker, and suddenly there were only two people in the room. The face in the audience was Natalie Glenn. Her husband’s lover.
Stuck in her stance like glue, Mercedes began squinting her eyes. She could feel Vicky’s breath in her face as Vicky talked to her, but without volume. The words just faded away into the air.
Mercedes’s glance was interrupted by a towering figure on the catwalk. It was the first group of swimwear models doing their thing. Mercedes blinked for the first time in about forty seconds.
“Mercedes, did you hear me?” Vicky asked over the loud music.
“Yes. I mean no, what did you say?”
“Alexis needs a glue stick for her bikini top to cling along her neckline. Did you bring one?”
“Yes, look in my YSL garment bag in the back.”
Vicky walked away but Mercedes still stared straight ahead. Natalie was looking up at the statuesque models, bouncing her head to the music of the Madonna CD. Mercedes cut her eyes and turned to walk backstage. She rubbed her sweaty forehead and shook her head. Never had she wanted to rip someone’s head off so badly in her life. Her high quickly sank to a feeling of depression. She looked around at all of the hurried people working to pull off the big show. Yet she felt heavy, weighted, and discouraged. She was sharing the room with the woman who shared her husband.
Before long, the models had changed about three times each. It was time for the last group of women, the evening gown models. Wilette approached, wearing the glamorous cream-colored gown. She walked by Mercedes, prepared to hit the runway. Mercedes
watched her long, elegant frame proceed, and then she followed behind her, only to exit to the right of the stage along the side row toward the audience. Mercedes found herself heading in the direction of Natalie. With every step, she took a deeper breath. She excused herself from the group of people behind the first row, and leaned in toward Natalie’s back, right up close to her left earlobe.
Mercedes whispered closely and softly, “Excuse me, but I’m your lover’s wife. We need to talk.”
Natalie turned around and looked up at Mercedes’s face. Without blinking, she took her tiny red bag from her lap and stood up. Mercedes led the way with Natalie less than two steps behind her. They exited the front door and stood out on Rodeo Drive under the lamppost. Natalie put on her dark Aviator lenses.
Mercedes started off “First off, his name is Mason, and not Mace.”
“Okay.” Natalie was nonchalant.
“How dare you come on to my husband. You’d better be glad that I have too much class to curse you out and slap your face.”
“Mrs. Wilson, I want to tell you how bad I feel about what happened. I don’t even know how it happened. It just did.”
“It just did, huh? And you feel bad? I’ll bet it didn’t feel so bad when Mason was inside of you, did it?”
Natalie sighed, glancing over Mercedes’s shoulder toward the front door of the Gucci store as though she wanted to go back in.
“And take off your shades, Natalie. You need to be woman enough to look me straight in the eye.”
Natalie pulled her glasses off with a subtle snatch.
Mercedes continued, “Let me tell you something. It’s women like you who screw up the good things that women like me work so long and hard to build. You just simply come around and seductively toss your charms at any man who will catch them. You don’t even have enough couth to at least hit on the single ones. Why do you have to go for the married men with lives and women at home? Were you once fooled around on and now you feel a
need to pay back females in your own way. Didn’t your mother ever tell you what goes around comes around?”
“Ummh, I believe she did.”
“Then what in the hell happened? You can’t go around doing this to families. Do you hear me? Families. It’s not just about getting your freak on for a few minutes. It’s about ruining relationships and trust. Your carefree affair cost me my ability to believe in a man I’ve known for more than half my life.”
Mercedes paused to imagine what Mason saw in this woman. She looked her up and down, from her pretty red, rhinestone toes peaking from her strappy high heels, to her tiny waist cinched by a wide leather belt, to her perky little breasts showing their shape under a sheer black designer blouse, to the top of her upswept, bright red hair. She was pretty and sophisticated looking and that made Mercedes even madder.
Natalie clutched her bag. “With all due respect, you really need to check Mason too, Mrs. Wilson. He is a grown man and he’s the one you need to get on.”
“I need to get on you right now, Natalie. You were the one who seduced my man. If more women like you had more self-respect, women like me wouldn’t have to worry about who we need to check. You’re a nice-looking woman. Why can’t you get a man of your own?”
“I can.”
“Then do that and leave the taken ones alone. Or else I guarantee you that one day, you’ll be in my shoes, trying to figure out why some woman destroyed your marriage. And I know that Mason called it off with you. Just make sure you don’t even think about dialing his number or coming up to his room, or e-mailing him, or contacting him in any way. Because I will not only see to it that I have your job, I will have your ass.”