The doorman opened the door as Donna and Angelica approached. He gave Angelica another once-over as she glided past him in a flirtatious way, she turning slightly to see if he had noticed. Angelica still wore the outfit she had arrived in while Donna had slipped into a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a cream-colored satin blouse with a high collar and plunging neckline.
“You trying to make a move on Ari?”
“Of course not, Donna. I was being playful my first day in New York.”
“Well, I hope so. Girl, there are bigger fish to fry, if you get my meaning. This town is full of those who have money and those who don’t, but money’s easy to get if you know the right person. And you will get to know the right person in this business.”
“So, have you fried your fish?”
Donna laughed. “You’re funny, Angelica.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Let’s say I wouldn’t be living in that fab Manhattan pad if I didn’t know the right people. My work speaks for itself, though. My degree and my training have not gone to waste. I know how to play the game because I’ve watched some of the masters at work, and if you want something bad enough, you do what you have to in order to get what you want.”
“I may have lived in Fayetteville, North Carolina, but I know what I like.”
“Let’s catch the subway. Sometimes I like to feel New York the way it touches everyday folk.”
Angelica walked briskly, trying to keep in step with Donna. Donna was an intriguing person, and Angelica could not quite put a finger on her pulse. It would all unravel soon, and she hoped that in the days ahead she would be trading her small condo in Fayetteville for a high rise in Manhattan.
They entered the station, walked down the stairs and purchased metro cards. Angelica wasn’t feeling the subway, but Donna seemed right at home.
At Donna’s direction, they jumped on the train headed for SoHo. The train was crowded with business types headed to places unknown. The people seemed disinterested, deeply into themselves. There were no friendly hellos or the smiles that she was accustomed to in North Carolina.
The train lurched and pulled into a station to let people on and off. A young woman carrying packages and a briefcase got on and held onto the pole in front of Angelica. As the train began to pull out of the station, the woman held the pole tightly with her hands and wrapped her thighs around the middle. Her bags were trapped between her feet and the bottom of the pole. The strap of her purse was slung over her shoulder. The movement of the train made her body swing along the pole like she was dancing on stage, and as the woman sought to hold on, Angelica had a flashback of her life before Hamilton.
Angelica was a lot like the woman holding the pole. She held the pole like she owned it, making love to it with gestures that aroused the gentlemen who stared at her partially clad body. They begged her to take it all off. The woman at the pole had done this many times before because she moved with the train, squirming and leaning up against the pole when the moment called for it.
“You all right?” Donna asked Angelica. “You seem to be in a daze.”
“Thinking about life,” Angelica said.
“Well, get ready, because the next stop is ours. We’ll have a light dinner, enjoy some jazz, and meet some people I’ve asked to join us.”
“Oh,” was all Angelica could say.
They got off at the next stop, Angelica following Donna like a lost puppy. Dusk had fallen quickly, but the feel of the nightlife was overtaking Angelica. And she liked how it felt.
“Why do they call it SoHo?” Angelica asked.
“Because it’s south of Houston Street. It’s not just that, though. This is the place where artists come alive-galleries full of artwork and boutiques that sell cutting-edge fashions. Here’s the place.”
The music floated outside. Laid-back business types sucked on draft beer, trying to relieve the stress of the week, and others sipped martinis to set the mood for the rest of the evening.
Angelica followed Donna to a table in a corner where three very attractive ladies sat. They could have easily been the women in the portraits that hung on the walls in Donna’s studio. Their makeup was flawless and the weaves on their heads cost at least a thousand dollars a pop. Broad smiles were on their faces as the two approached.
“Hey, sweetie,” Donna said to each woman in turn, while pecking each with a dainty kiss to the lips. “This is my cousin, Angelica. She’s the one I was telling you about.”
Angelica extended her hand and sat down. She would not be placing any kisses on anyone’s lips or jaws.
“Hey, Angelica, I’m Jazz. This is Madeline to my right and Coco on my left. Glad to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
“Angelica flew in from North Carolina,” Donna offered. “She’ll loosen up after a while.”
“We’re fashion divas,” Jazz said while the others laughed, including Donna. “Your cousin is a model’s gift to the big time.”
“That’s what I hear,” Angelica said. “It appears she is very successful.”
“So why have you come to the Big Apple?” Jazz asked, her accent thick and deep. Her facial features seemed exotic. Angelica figured her to be West Indian.
“To get away from my past,” Angelica said with a frown. These women were beginning to annoy her, and she hadn’t been in the place five good minutes.
“So what is your past?” Coco asked, opening her mouth for the first time.
Angelica looked from Coco to Donna. She wasn’t sure what Donna had shared with these ladies, but her past was none of their business.
“My past is just that-my past,” Angelica responded. “I need a drink.”
Donna waved the waitress over and ordered two martinis. Angelica let out a small sigh. She wasn’t used to someone taking control over her every movement. She was a grown woman capable of ordering her own drink. In fact, Angelica was not very comfortable with the little group that was assembled. Maybe she was tired. Tomorrow would be a new day.
“They have wonderful sandwiches here, Angelica,” Donna said. “I think I’ll have a beef sandwich au jus.”
“Order two,” Angelica consented.
“Angelica, these ladies are part of the project I was telling you about,” Donna began. “We are going to do a photo shoot for a new magazine. I’m really excited about it because I’m the exclusive photographer for this magazine, and the monetary reward is more than generous.”
A smile trickled across Angelica’s face. For the first time tonight, she had something to smile about. “That’s great, Donna,” Angelica said. “And you’re willing to take a chance on a non-model.”
“Well, my contract said that I had to have a set number of women in the shoot. I happened to be talking with my mother and aunt on three-way when they told me you had been released from prison. I remembered how you loved to dress in the finest and command attention at every family event I ever attended. Then it came to me that you might be the person I was looking for.”
Angelica sat in silence. The waitress placed her drink in front of her followed by her food. Her privacy had been violated with Donna’s announcement. The fact that Angelica had just gotten out of prison didn’t seem to faze the ladies, though-Donna had probably given them her bio long before her plane landed in New York. It sucked, and Angelica wished she were back in Fayetteville in her own condo-a place she had left without even telling Margo she was leaving.
The cafe was crowded, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. It was hard to hear at times, but the light jazz put Angelica in a melancholy mood. She had tuned out Donna and her friends and turned to get a better view of the two brothers who sat a couple of tables over. They glanced over a couple of times, but Angelica failed to keep their attention.
Turning around, she saw Donna slide her hand over Madeline’s arm. It might have been an innocent gesture, but it reminded Angelica of the way Ms. Macy would handle the new inmates when they came to quad L.
“So what kind of ad are you shooting?” Angelica asked Donna, making an attempt to belong.
“There will be several, which is why the pay will be lucrative. Angelica, you will not make as much as the other girls because they are on union scale, but you will make enough to be independent.”
“When do we start?”
“On Monday. You have the whole weekend to rest up because we’re just getting started. I hope you’ve got on your dancing shoes.”
“I’m ready.”