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“And—” Mikayla found herself wanting to warn Dusty but was unsure of the words “—she can be a bit sneaky.”
He smirked. “Again, most dogs are.” He leaned forward. “Look, Mikayla, I haven’t met a dog I couldn’t train, and I’m sure Angel will be no exception.”
Mikayla thought about her resourceful dog and all the clever little stunts she’d pulled over the years on dog sitters and dog trainers alike. She already knew it was going to be a long two weeks. Still, she decided, this man seemed different, and therefore deserved the benefit of the doubt.
She forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Chapter 4
“Dusty Warren?” Kandi Martin, Mikayla’s literary agent and manager, took another bite of her Caesar salad, a slight frown creasing her brow. “I’ve heard that name before, but I can’t remember where.”
“Well, he’s well respected in his field and Angel’s last, best hope.” Mikayla took another sip of the cheese soup she’d chosen as an appetizer. “You should see his facility. It’s really state-of-the-art. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Kandi glanced across the table at her friend. “Sounds like an interesting man. Is he married?”
Mikayla returned the glance, knowing what her friend was asking. “Don’t even go there. This is just about Angel.” She shrugged. “Besides, when would I have time for a man?”
“Some things you make time for.” Reaching into the basket on the center of the table, Kandi took a roll and tore it in half. “It’s about balance.” She held up the two parts of the roll. “The ying and the yang. Work versus play. If you ask me, you have way too much of one and not enough of the other.”
Mikayla reached across the table and snatched one of the halves. “Well, I didn’t ask you, did I?” To emphasize her point, she bit off the roll before placing it on her soup saucer.
As the waiter arrived with their entrées, and removed the soup and salad dishes, Kandi dug around in her large tote bag. “By the way, I received this the other day.” She handed Mikayla an elegant cream envelope.
“What’s this?” Mikayla opened the envelope and read the enclosed card. It was an invitation to speak at an AKA dinner at Bethune-Cookman University. “Oh, definitely.” She handed the invitation back.
“That’s another one of your problems, you spend too much of your time in all-female groupings. How are you gonna meet a potential lover like that?”
“First of all, let me restate, I am not looking for a lover. Second, it’s not my fault mostly women show up for my lectures.”
“Riiiggghhhttt,” Kandi muttered, cutting into her chicken parmesan.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kandi looked up at her friend with a tilted head and a knowing expression. “Come on, this is me you’re talking to. Don’t try to tell me you don’t enjoy getting up in front of a group of women and giving your little I-am-woman-hear-me-roar pep talk. You love it.”
“If by that you mean, do I enjoy empowering women who have been victimized in their own lives for far too long, then yes, I do.” She leaned forward, feeling defensive about her work. “And if my book can help even one woman regain control of her life, then—”
“Hang on, Sojourner.” Kandi held up her hands as if to ward off an attack. “Don’t get me wrong, I love what you do.” She reached across the table and took Mikayla’s hand. “And more importantly, I understand why you do it. I’m just saying you need more in your life than just this…this one-woman crusade you’re on.”
Mikayla sat back in her chair. “I do have more in my life than that.”
Kandi’s mouth twisted in a smirk. “Correction, more than a crusade—and a mangy mutt for companionship.”
Mikayla frowned. “She’s not mangy, she just has weird fur.” She shook her head in confusion, her mind running off in a new direction. “I swear I’ve tried every dog shampoo known to man, and nothing will make her hair lie down like a regular dog.”
Kandi shook the hand she was still holding to regain her friend’s attention. “Hello? Enough about Angel’s bad hair—I’m talking about you.”
“Kandi, I appreciate all your help and advice, but believe me when I say I like my life just the way it is.”
Kandi let go of her friend’s hand and turned her attention to slicing up her chicken parmesan. “That’s because you don’t know any better. You’ve never had a normal relationship with a man, so you can’t possibly know what you’re missing.”
The sudden silence caught her attention and she looked up to find Mikayla looking at her with a betrayed expression.
Her first instinct was to apologize for hurting her friend, but then she paused. As a policy, Kandi made a point of never apologizing for the truth, and if anyone needed to hear the truth it was Mikayla.
What started as a working relationship five years ago when Kandi signed Mikayla to a book contract had blossomed into one of the dearest relationships in her life, and she loved the younger woman sitting across from her like a little sister. But her little sister had scars. Scars left over from a vicious attack and the life before it. And until Mikayla confronted the ghost of her past those scars would never heal.
After the silence lingered a bit, Kandi muttered, “You know I don’t apologize for the truth.”
“Your truth is subjective,” Mikayla countered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“As long as I was pumping out bestsellers you couldn’t care less about my loveless lifestyle. Now that I’ve hit a wall, what’s your sage advice? Get a lover.”
Kandi pointed her fork at Mikayla. “That is so unfair. This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation. And it’s not like I brought this up.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t!”
Kandi placed her fork on the table and folded her hands under her chin. “Describe this veterinarian.”
“What?”
“The vet, Angel’s best and last blah, blah, blah. Describe him. What does he look like?”
“How did we get back to him?”
Kandi arched an eyebrow. “That’s where this conversation started, and that’s where it will end. Now, describe him.”
Mikayla shrugged. “I don’t know. Good-looking, I guess.”
“Be specific.” Kandi picked up a forkful of steam cooked string beans. “You’re a writer for goodness’ sake, give me some details.”
Mikayla sighed. “Fine. Let me think.” She cut up her salmon and pulled to the forefront of her mind the face she’d been trying not to remember for the past week.
“Okay, he’s got a caramel-brown complexion—no, wait. More like molasses when you heat it up, and it has deep, rich, brown coloring you can almost taste even before the sweet smell reaches your nose. And speaking of smell, my Lord, that man smells good.” She frowned. “Which is amazing considering the fact he works with animals all day. But get within a few feet of him and his cologne. Just, mmmm…”
Mikayla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve got to find out the name of his cologne.” She chuckled. “Maybe I’ll buy a bottle for myself and just keep it on my dresser. It really is a wonderful smell. Probably won’t smell as good in the bottle as it does on him, though.” She opened her eyes to find Kandi watching her with a bemused expression. “What?”
“Nothing. Go on, caramel-brown and smells good. What about his eyes?”
“Deep brown, chocolate-brown, like dark pools, but not so dark you can’t see his bright pupils, and there is something else, as well. Just around the edges of his pupils are these unexpected flecks of gold. You know, they say you can see a person’s soul through their eyes. If that’s true, he has a compassionate soul.” She frowned again. “But I guess he would have to, considering—again—he works with animals all day.”
“Nose?” Kandi asked, her attention focused on her meal.
“Straight, strong, average, neat.” Mikayla smiled. “With the slightest little upturn on the tip. Adorable, really.”
“Mouth?”
“Perfect heart shape. Beautiful. Full, but not overly so, just enough to make them kissable.” She sighed again. “You should see his smile. It’s amazing. It’s like his whole face is transformed from just good-looking to stunning when he smiles. It makes you want to smile and you don’t even know why.” She laughed. “And on top of all that, he has the nerve to have dark red hair.”
“Red?”
“Yeah, more like a dark, dusty, blondish-red. But he wears it close cut. You probably wouldn’t notice except his eyebrows are the same color and when you meet him your attention is immediately drawn to those compassionate eyes.”
“I wonder if that’s where he got his name?”
“You know, I hadn’t thought about it.” Mikayla shrugged. “Maybe.”
The two women ate in silence for several minutes before Mikayla said, “Okay, so maybe I do find him attractive, but so what? That doesn’t change anything. All I want from this man is a manageable pet. I’m not interested in complicating my life with a relationship right now. I’ve got too much other stuff going on.”
Kandi continued to eat, saying nothing.
“And besides, he probably already has a woman. Hell, he may even be married and just doesn’t wear a ring.” She huffed. “Yeah, sounds about right, considering my taste in men.” She stabbed at her salmon. “And who’s to say he would even be interested? He probably flirts with every woman that comes into his clinic as a matter of habit.”
Kandi continued to eat, seeming oblivious to her friend’s conflictions.
“Using that damn smile of his like a weapon,” Mikayla muttered, making minced meat of her salmon. “Probably thinks he can have any woman he wants.”
After several more minutes had passed as the two ate in silence, Mikayla looked up and asked, “What were we talking about before?”
Kandi smiled. “I think we were deciding who brought up the topic of you needing a lover.”
Mikayla’s eyes narrowed menacingly on her friend’s face. “You know, sometimes I can’t stand you.”
“I know.” Kandi continued to smile. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 5
Over the next two weeks, try as she might, Mikayla could not seem to shake off her most recent conversation with Kandi. She found Dusty Warren intruding on her thoughts more and more. It had been a long time since she’d been so attracted to a man, but there was just something about him. Those compassionate eyes, his smile, even the gentle way he handled Angel after she’d caused such chaos in his clinic. And the way he looked at her, there was no denying his interest. But was she ready for that?
So much had changed over the past five years and yet so much had stayed the same. For instance, during those two weeks Angel was with Dusty, Mikayla hardly slept. The days were lonely but bearable, but at night the same creaking, cracking noises that she heard every night since she’d moved into the house a year ago suddenly took on ominous tones. Every time a car would drive down the street and the light would shine into her bedroom window she would awaken with a start.
She’d known living without Angel would be hard company wise. After all, Angel had been her constant companion for the past five years, but she had not anticipated the return of the fear.
The same fear she’d experienced when she first arrived in Miami from Atlantic City and settled into their first home. Although she never told Kandi, a small part of Mikayla had always believed the man who attacked her, Vega, would hunt her down and finish the job after his trial ended in a hung jury. Her only comfort had been the knowledge that he would have to go through Angel to do it. After their first encounter, Mikayla was certain Vega would not want to tango with Angel again.
But without the sound of Angel’s claws clacking against the vinyl floor in the kitchen as she patrolled from room to room every night, that comfort no longer existed. The fear had returned.
She lay wake at night listening to the sounds of the dark, and praying she was alone. And after just two weeks, she wasn’t sure she could live like that for six more days, let alone six more weeks. Whether Dusty had been successful in retraining her or not, Mikayla was strongly considering bringing her pet home.
Which was why Mikayla doubted she was ready to return Dusty’s obvious interest, or any other man’s for that matter. Just look at the way she’d reacted when he took her to meet his dogs. As soon as he turned that cart in the direction of his house the fear had crept into her being. She’d managed to conquer it, as she had to so often. But still, to her embarrassment, he’d gotten a brief glimpse of her terror.
How was she to have any kind of a relationship with a man when every time he touched her she froze up?
No, despite whatever attraction she had for the good doctor, what she told Kandi was right. The only thing she wanted from Dusty Warren was a well-managed pet.
On her first visitation day Mikayla awoke with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning. Not only was she going to get to see Angel today, but before that she had a seminar in Fort Lauderdale she was really looking forward to.
She dressed in a dark suit and put her hair up in a French roll. She tried to cover the bags under her eyes with makeup but there was only so much Cover Girl bronzer could do.
As she applied the makeup in the bathroom mirror, she stopped for a moment and just examined her reflection. She’d come so far from the girl she once was. Her face was thinner, her hair shorter, and much lighter than before…how different she looked now. She wondered if her friends back in her old neighborhood in New Jersey would even recognize her?
She thought about those friends and wondered where they were today. The group of girls she’d hung out with, they’d all had so little, and hungered for so much. It was hard being poor in a place like Atlantic City. Watching the high rollers come and go in their expensive cars and expensive clothes, and there they were, just some poor locals craving a taste of that life.
Mikayla briefly wondered about her mother; it was not with the love of a child for a parent, but more idle curiosity. It had been a long time since Mikayla had loved her mother. Back before Mikayla came into puberty and the full extent of her future beauty began to shine through.
Instead of taking pride in her beautiful child, Regina Wilson had seen her daughter as a future rival for the male attention she enjoyed, and treated her only child as such. Even going so far as attempting to sell fifteen-year-old Mikayla to what she thought was a pimp and who turned out to be an undercover cop.
Mikayla knew nothing of her mother’s plan until the cops came to take her into protective services. Three ounces of cocaine. That’s what her mother valued her life at.
Mikayla was turned over to a foster care family that was already overloaded with the eight other foster children living in the home. But this arrangement worked out well for Mikayla because it allowed her to come and go as she pleased.
Even the memories felt like she was looking at someone else’s life. She applied a thin coat of lipstick, straightened up the house a little, and taking her attaché, headed out to the car. She was due in Fort Lauderdale in less than an hour.
When her friend, Nisha, told her how much she could make stripping at the Godiva club where she worked, Mikayla had not believed it. But when Nisha later that year bought a sixty-thousand-dollar car at age eighteen, Mikayla was convinced.
She took the stage name Tangie after the nickname a former boyfriend had given her. He’d claimed she was just the right combination of sugar and salt. Before long Tangie found it was not just the money she enjoyed, but the addictive feeling of power her beauty gave her over men. It didn’t take her long to realize that with a smile and the promise of more, there was little she could not have.
Nisha had also given her a piece of advice that Mikayla had brushed off and would later regret not heeding. Make sure they know you’re teasing.
Nisha had warned that as long as the patrons understood it was just a game of cat and mouse everybody went home happy. But when the men that came to the club began to believe the dancers liked them, things could get complicated. When one of the club’s regulars brought her a pair of four-carat diamond earrings, Mikayla had let that bit of advice go in one ear and out the other.
His name was Vega, or at least that’s what he told the girls to call him, and when he started coming to the club it was once or twice a week until it was almost every night.
He would sit at the bar and watch Tangie with an obsessive intensity. An intensity so fierce the bouncer, T.J., had warned her to steer clear, because he sensed the guy was dangerous.
But Tangie’s jewelry collection was growing by the week and all with just the promise that one day she’d let him sleep with her. But Vega became impatient and more aggressive until he was banned from the club.
She had a small apartment a few blocks from the club, so most nights she just walked, because even though the club had security, theft still occurred and she did not want to put her uninsured Lexus on the lot.
The first week after he was banned, Tangie was careful, watching around her as she walked home, knowing Vega might try something. But when almost a month went by without incident she let her guard down.
And that’s when he attacked.
Even five years later, Mikayla could still feel the pain as he shoved a knife into her ribs and beat her in the face with his fist. She could still feel the intense fear as she believed her life was about to end. She could still feel the terror as he forced her to the ground and tried to rape her.
Then there were these sounds around her as Vega fell back off her. Through her swollen eyes she could not make out what was happening, but the sounds eventually became distinguishable. There was the snarling and growling of a dog, chaos and commotion as the man and dog fought. Vega’s shouts of pain as the dog bit into his legs, his arms any part of the man she could reach. A heartbreaking yelp of pain as Vega managed to slice the dog with the knife. The sounds of Vega trying to get away. Mikayla thought the dog would follow and finish him off, but instead she stayed with Mikayla, barking her displeasure at the man’s retreating back. And then the silence.
Mikayla could hear the dog’s claws against the concrete as she paced. Her furry head nudged Mikayla until she moved. Seeming satisfied she was still alive, the dog continued her pacing, and Mikayla struggled to hold on to consciousness.
Later she would be told the attack lasted a few minutes, but to Mikayla those moments seemed an eternity. It may have been a few minutes but it was long enough to change her whole life.
While they waited for help, the dog would pace a while, then sit with her a while, and then pace some more. Mikayla thought this beast that came to her rescue would be the last thing she saw so she shared her soul’s confession.
Mikayla talked to her about how she resented her parents and her entire childhood. She told her about the warning Nisha had given her and how she wished she would’ve listened. She told her about how stripping had started out as fun, but somewhere she’d lost control of the game. And she told her about her dreams. Of how she’d always loved writing and if she managed to get out of this situation she would write. She even promised the mutt a home.
The nervous dog seemed to almost listen at times, but most of her attention was focused on the street, watching and waiting. When she thought she could not hold on any longer Mikayla surrendered to the heavy weight of a deep sleep.
