| |
WEDNESDAY
It took Deja all she had not to roll her eyes and tell the mother-daughter duo to get out of her office. All she could think about after setting the meeting with Thompson was moving on from weddings to corporate events. In the meantime, though, this was her job, her first official job. She wasn’t going to ruin it.
“But Mom, all the girls are wearing lavender, so if we get African violets, it might be purple overkill. I mean, we’re not doing a Purple Rain theme or anything.” Becky laughed.
“I loved Purple Rain. Michael Jackson, right?” Becky’s mom asked.
“Prince,” Deja muttered. Her mom used to be obsessed with the 80s cult classic movie, Purple Rain, though she had hated Apollonia, probably because of Apollonia’s attractiveness. Her mom never liked women she viewed as competition, especially not her own daughter.
The two bleach blondes focused on Deja. “What?” they asked in unison.
“Nothing,” Deja said. As the women went back to chatting about colors, Deja couldn’t help thinking about her relationship with her own mom. With her light-brown skin, large bust, and curves in all the right places, Deja’s mom had relished the spotlight when she was younger. Their tiny apartment had been decorated with pictures of her mom in her prime but not a single picture of Deja. Kim hadn’t liked that Deja had her father’s medium skin color or that her beauty rivaled her mom’s. As the wrinkles appeared and her skin started to sag, Kim grew insecure and cynical, and her drinking increased.
Deja refocused on her clients. Her mom was the last person she wanted to think about. “If you don’t want too much purple, we can mix it up and go with multicolored rose bouquets and throw in a few purple. We have some here.” Deja flipped through the catalog’s pages then pointed out a popular bouquet.
“Oh my God!” Becky screamed.
Deja jumped and scanned the office. “What’s wrong?”
“Like, those are so perfect! Aren’t they, Mom?” Becky’s cheeks grew pink from excitement. “They’re absolutely gorge!”
Ous. Gorgeous, idiot. “So you want those?” Deja’s heart tried to return to its normal rate.
“Yes, they’re perfect, honey.” Becky’s mom was almost more excited than Becky. “Let’s get those.”
“Great.” Deja added the selected arrangement to Becky’s contract, which was turning out to be one of the largest she’d planned so far. So in spite of her annoyance with the client, she appreciated the money. “That wraps it up for now. If you need anything else in the meantime, feel free to give me a call.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Becky squealed before leaving the office. “I’m so excited.”
Couldn’t tell. Deja waved and smiled, but she seethed with resentment. It was always someone else’s turn to be happy. She was sick of standing by and watching from the sidelines like a spectator waving at a passing parade. Something had to change. Once they were gone, she bent three fingers, wrapped her thumb around them, and flipped them the bird.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Raquel wagged her finger as she entered Deja’s office.
“Oops.” Deja placed her hand on her lap. “You caught me middle-fingered.”
“It’s cool. If our clients are happy, I’m happy. And they seemed very happy. I wanted to let you know I’m locking myself up in my office so I can finalize the presentation for our meeting with Gary Thompson. You and Maggie will have to handle the bridezillas that never stop knocking on the door.” She put her hand to her chubby side. “Are you, like, sure the cake will have sixty-two layers?” she said in a mock valley-girl voice, dramatically running her hand through her auburn hair.
“Our clients take the term bridezilla to another level.” Aware that her complaining could be seen as ungratefulness, Deja added, “But it’s fun work.”
“Don’t worry. Once we land the gig with Thompson and start getting the company’s name out, we’ll kiss those bitches goodbye.” Raquel kissed her fingers.
Raquel’s candor was one of the reasons Deja loved her job. Well, that and the paycheck, measly as it was. She’d never worked in the organizing side of the event planning business before, though she had worked part-time for catering companies that did big events. When she had moved Miles from the East Bay to the South Bay nearly eighteen months ago for a fresh start, the job with Raquel was the only one she could land, and fortunately, the arrangement had turned out great. Raquel’s strict attention to detail, her ability to multitask, and her large-scale ideas complemented Deja’s people skills. But since it was only the two of them and Maggie, they were all overworked and underpaid. Hopefully, that would change after the Thompson contract.
“I’m going to my office, so stop bothering me,” Raquel teased.
Deja pointed to the stack of client binders on her desk. “I have more than enough to keep me busy.”
After Raquel left her office, Deja entered Becky’s floral order into the sales database. Her cell phone rang, and though she hesitated to answer, she needed to know exactly what Kevin was up to. “What, Kevin?”
“Just wanted to make sure my side of the bed is turned down this weekend.” Though Deja couldn’t see him, she could imagine the smug expression plastered on his baby face. When she’d met him, Kevin had been one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen with his warm light-brown eyes, golden-brown skin, and short, curly hair. Unfortunately for her, she’d been deceived by his attractiveness. He was nothing but rotten inside.
“I’m working,” Deja said curtly.
“Come back to work for me, and you can make up that money you stole from me in no time.”
Deja clenched her fist. “Never.”
“If shit don’t go as planned, you won’t have a choice, and that front you got going on is over. Like I said, I’ll be there this weekend. See you soon.”
Deja had to figure out a way to postpone his unwelcome visit. It’d been foolish of her to think he wouldn’t have noticed the money she’d stolen from him for her San Jose apartment’s deposit, but she’d been desperate to break free from him.
She was sure someone like Becky would never find herself in a situation like Deja’s, and even if she did, her mom would bail her out in no time. Deja wasn’t—and never had been—that lucky. But she had told her mom she’d do one thing: read her letter then call her so they could talk about it. Since her mom had been on her mind, now was as good a time as any. She brought up her contacts.
“Deja? Is that you?”
“Yes.” Deja took a breath. “I’ve read your letter a couple times, and I wanted to tell you that I don’t forgive you and never will. After Grammy died, you made my life a living nightmare. I’m still paying for it to this day.”
“I know, and that’s why I am so sorry. My momma helped me raise you. But when she passed, all I had was the streets to fall back on, and I got caught up. I made mistakes—lots of ’em—but I want you to know that I will never stop trying to make things right with you. Please, Deja. Give me a chance to do that.”
“Did you really think a pathetic letter and fake promises would change anything?”
“I’m getting my life straight. I’ll prove I mean what I say, but right now, all I have is my word.”
“Your word has never meant anything to me. This is the last you’ll hear from me, so do me a favor and lose my number.”
Hands shaking, Deja slammed the phone down. The moment was bittersweet. While she hoped that would be the end of her mom trying to reunite with her, she felt bad for speaking to her so disrespectfully. Grammy had always taught Deja to show respect to elders, especially her mom, but Deja’s heart had hardened over the years. Too much had gone down between the two of them, and their relationship was beyond repair. Besides, her sole focus was figuring out how to settle her debt with Kevin and getting him out of her life for good.