String
The phone rang.
For some reason it sounded way too loud. Like it was right next to her head.
It *was* right next to her head.
Shoot. I fell asleep on the couch again.
You mean you passed out.
Shut up.
You gonna get that?
"What."
"Hey, did I wake ya?"
Ugh. Who could be chipper this early in the morning? "Yes," Angela hissed.
"Dang, Heaven, it's noon. You musta had a helluva roll in the hay with your new boy toy. I hope you didn't break him."
It was Monique. Angela almost told Monique not to call her by her stage name, but it wasn't worth the effort. At least Monique wasn't calling her "Angie" anymore.
"Nothing happened."
Waitaminute, noon?
"Nothing? What the hell, babe? After all that work?"
Well, a *lot* had happened. Just nothing Monique needed to know about.
"Monique, please don't yell. My head hurts."
"I'm not yelling. What, did you get sick or something?"
Actually, she felt sick right now -- a sudden spasm rolling up her torso that literally pulled her off the couch. Her mouth clamped shut as something hot and nasty crept up the back of her throat. The girl pulled/crawled/jerked her way to the edge of the kitchen linoleum before the vileness overcame her ability to contain it and sick fled with a wet splat. She gasped between spasms, dueling defense mechanisms pingponging her body between breath and vomit. Gradually both demands became less extreme, but only by wringing out her will to move. She lay there until the smell and taste became too much and she forced herself to sit up.
"Damn, girl, you okay?"
"I just got a little queasy."
"How much did you drink?"
Drink. She was thirsty. And she wanted to rinse the wretch off the inside of her cheeks.
"Sorry. What?"
"I said, how much did you drink?"
"I don't drink."
"Obviously."
"No, I didn't drink."
"What'd you eat?"
"It's not that."
"Are you pregnant?"
Angela felt the chill tug on her spine. Was she? Could she? When was...? How could she tell? The sapphires suppressed her monthly cycle as long as she was using them -- the only period she'd had since June was when she'd been "on hiatus" staying with the Aquinos, and even that had been really light. It was the only good effect the gemstones had on her. Well, besides the whole superpowers thing... anyway, she'd used them enough lately that she didn't expect a monthly Visit. Honestly, the way they affected her, she didn't even know if she *could* get pregnant. Not that she exactly slept around... Besides, the only times she'd... well, both Ricky and Dino had been careful, right? Yeah...
"I don't think so." She'd felt kind of like this before. How many Perfectua had she taken last night? Enough... "I think it's my meds. I shouldn't have taken them so late, and on an empty stomach."
Even in her distressed state -- especially in her distressed state -- Angela heard the judgement in Monique's voice. "Right, your meds."
Well, fine. Angela didn't have the energy to argue.
"So, why'd you call?"
"To get the scoop, of course. After all, I feel like I have something invested in this. And from the sound of it, my stock isn't performing."
Angela thought Monique was trying to be clever or something. "There's no scoop to get."
"What's up with that? Dino Sinclair is not the kind of guy you string along."
Angela took a deep breath. She didn't want to get into this now. She didn't want to get into it at all. "Can we talk about this later?"
Monique softened. "Yeah, okay, sure. You all right?" She sounded concerned. "You sure nothing happened?" This time nothing meant nothing *bad*.
"It's okay, Monique. Dino didn't... do anything." At least not anything Monique was thinking.
"You'd tell me if he did, right?"
"Yeah." Angela sighed; her new friend's concern just depressed her for some reason.
"Okay. You know I got your back."
"I know. Thanks."
"No problem. Well, I'll let you go. You call my cell if you need anything, 'k?"
"Yeah."
"Hey, you all square with that guy?"
Monique meant Noel Aquino. When Angela let it slip that she owed Noel a lot of money for all her clothes, Monique had made up the difference between what Angela had made Thursday night and what she owed Noel. (It was almost as much as Monique had taken as a "fee" for engineering Angela's, er, Heaven's debut on stage.)
"Yeah, I'm done with him."
"Good. I know what it's like owing money to a guy like that."
Noel Aquino wasn't a guy like that. Well, he wasn't like what Angela had thought originally, but still... "He's not..." Angela stopped herself. It wasn't worth explaining. "Nevermind. Thanks again. I owe you."
"Don't mention it. You got rid of Kat -- consider it payment for services rendered. Buy me a couple of outfits to replace the ones I gave you and we'll call it even. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow night, right?"
Angela wasn't scheduled to work tonight. She remembered Moroshkin's dinner invitation.
Ugh. I'd rather work.
Dinner with Moroshkin *is* work.
"Yeah, tomorrow night."
"I expect lots of juicy details."
"Huh?"
"Don't be coy. I know about tonight."
"It's just dinner."
"It's never *just* dinner unless you want it to be. You're not getting cold feet, are you?"
"It's not that."
"Okay, but don't hold out two nights in a row, or he might get the impression that you're a prude after all."
"I'm not a slut either."
"Nobody's saying you are. Oh, hey! We could go shopping tomorrow. I know what kinda stuff Zora likes."
Oh, right. She owed Zora a dress too. "Yeah, okay. I'll call you."
"Okay, bye!"
Angela leaned over, stretching back out on the floor to put the phone back on its cradle. The movement took her breath away. It hurt -- a *lot*. Her muscles didn't want to move, like they'd dried up and shrank.
The Perfectua was good when she was taking it, but when she skipped a dose she paid the price. And it seemed to get more expensive the more she took it.
Angela took a moment to reflect. (Actually, she needed the moment to let the ache subside, and to screw up enough courage to try moving.) Now was usually when she started to feel the pressure of the rising floodwaters of bad thoughts -- the trickling of questions and doubts and what-ifs that accumulated until they overwhelmed her.
But there was nothing. She felt fine. Was she over her anxiety? Dr. Ward had said it would fade with time. Or was it just lying in wait to cripple her when she wasn't on her guard?
Or was her body just in too much pain to let her mind wander?
She got to her knees, and then to her feet, pulling herself up to the edge of the kitchen counter. Her body hadn't hurt this much all over since... since Labor Day Weekend. Angela winced at the flash memory of a black crowbar... but it passed quickly. She expected the traumatic image to trigger an anxiety attack, but... it didn't. She was okay.
Well, except for the fact that she felt like an eighty-year-old.
Maybe I should lay off the Perfectua for a while.
But what if you have an attack?
Well, I can still carry some with me, but I don't have to be on it all the time.
Not having a panic attack is one thing. Being up for a dinner with the sharks is quite another. Not to mention going up on stage in your birthday suit and touching yourself while creepy dudes put money on you.
I'm not doing that all the time. Anyway, soon I won't have to do it at all.
We're not there yet.
Anyway, I'm almost out.
Then you better get more.
It's not cheap. And I'm not going back to that guy.
Maybe Zora knows someone else. Or maybe Dino-
No. I don't need him thinking I'm some kind of addict.
So that's what this is about. Your body is just adjusting, that's all. Maybe you can cut back a little, but you don't need to be going cold turkey.
I don't even know what this stuff does. I don't want to be one of those people who gets dependent on their meds and then falls apart when they miss a dose.
Relax.
I'm not freaking out or anything.
No, seriously, relax. At least until the room stops shaking.
Angela felt a shivering. It wasn't the room that was shaking.
No. I don't need this...
She gritted her teeth. She wasn't going to go popping pills just because her legs were a little shaky. It probably wasn't that anyway. She probably just needed something to eat.
Her stomach muscles clenched at the thought of food.
Well, at least something to drink...
Phone again. So much for sleeping it off...
"Heaven?" The voice was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.
"Yes, who is this?"
"This is Konstantin Moroshkin."
A chill went through her. Did that rat Miguel already do something with the recording? A man like Moroshkin probably had spies on the police force. Miguel always seemed so secretive when dealing with her -- had he slipped up somehow?
"H-hello," she finally answered.
"I have caught you at a bad time?"
"Um, no Mr. Moroshkin. I just never expected a man like, an important man like you to call *me*."
"Bah. I am not so important. And please, call me Kostya. It is I who did not expect to be talking to you."
"What do you mean?"
"I was not sure you existed. I have heard stories about a young woman who appeared out of nowhere and is so bewitching that she drives faithful men to foolish acts of betrayal."
Was he talking about Kat? Or was he talking about Dino? "Wow. I don't know about any of that, but there is really an Ang-, er, Heaven, and I really am her."
"After what Dino told me I was not sure. He says he told you of my invitation and you refused."
Gulp. "It's, um, I mean, I didn't mean to offend you, sir, er, Kostya. It's just that Dino, um..."
"Dino Sinclair is an asshole. It makes him good in business, not so good with women. Please do not hold it against me. Come to dinner. I will make sure you are treated properly."
How could she refuse? "All right." The stress was evident in her voice.
"Heaven, dear, *relax*!" Moroshkin chuckled. "I just want to meet you. You sound like you think I want to kill you."
Well, didn't he? "O-okay. I look forward to meeting you."
"Excellent. Dino will pick you up at 7. Now forgive me for being rude, but I must get back to work."
"Um, okay. Bye."
Click.
Ring!
Again? Can't people leave me alone?
"What?!""Rough morning?"
"What do you want, Detective?"
"Dino Sinclair's MP3 player."
"What for?" Was he too cheap to get his own?
"Bad news, babe. There's a problem with the files -- Tim says they're encrypted."
Encrypted? "So, don't you have guys for that?"
"Sure, but then I have to fill out paperwork, and my supervisor has to approve it, which means I have to explain how I got it and what's on it and what it's for, and... well Tim says the code's built into the player, and it'd be a lot easier just to get the player, and either clone it or dupe the audio analog."
"Easier for *you* maybe."
"Look, do you wanna get these guys or what?"
Don't ask me that.
Miguel sensed her hesitation. "Hey, sweetie, you wanted to do this. Don't jerk me around."
"I'm not jerking you around. It's just that I don't know when I'll get another chance."
"You're going to dinner with him tonight, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Don't tell me you're soft on him."
"No." She said it almost too quickly. "Things are just... different."
"What do you mean, 'different?'"
"I don't know. I can't figure him out."
"You don't need to figure him out. You just need to fuck him."
Miguel's directness stunned Angela for a moment. "It's not that simple."
"Honey, when it comes to a man like Sinclair, it's *always* that simple."
"Whatever." Maybe for a man like Detective Rubio it was always that simple, but Dino Sinclair was different. Complicated. Conflicted. Contradictory.
"There's something else," Miguel said flatly.
"What now?"
"Did you get a phone yet?"
Miguel had told her to get a cell phone. Like she really wanted him getting a hold of her whenever he felt like it. Besides, she couldn't afford it. Not unless she was gonna keep dancing, and as much as she might enjoy it as a game, she didn't want to get used to the money and then have to do it as a job.
Well, it was a job. But not a regular job. That was different. Doing it as part of a mission to put bad men behind bars could be justified as a sacrifice for a noble cause. Doing it just for the money seemed... maybe not desperate exactly, but kind of dirty. Not that she had anything against Zora or Monique or the other girls, but Angela believed she could do better. As Sapphire, she knew she could. Hmm, maybe just enough to pay the bills so she could *be* Sapphire more... that was a different way of thinking about it.
"Earth to Angie."
"Don't call me that."
"Yeah okay. I asked you a question."
"What?" Oh, right, the phone. "No."
"Good. I've got one for you. Department has a couple we can use to keep in touch with snitches."
Snitch. The word stung. It sounded so... tawdry.
"Anyway, this phone is special. You're going to take it with you to dinner."
"What's so special about it?"
"It records everything it hears to memory."
"No. They'll find out. They'll know. They'll test it."
"They won't find out. It works just like a regular phone."
"Okay, I'll get you the MP3 player."
"I know you will. And you'll take the phone to dinner. Tim's on his way over to drop it off." Click.
Damn that man! Why do I put up with him?
Because he can burn you. Once he gets his big bust he'll chill out.
What if he doesn't?
Then get something on him.
How?
Follow him. It probably wouldn't take long. He's not exactly a by-the-book kind of guy. Detective Aquino could help.
I'm done getting help from him.
There was a knock at her door. She checked the peephole -- no one there. She heard someone hustling down the stairs.
Door opened, there was a small package on the porch.
Detective Rubio doesn't waste any time...
She dumped the phone out of the padded envelope. She'd never had a cell phone before -- it seemed like she'd been the only one at school who didn't have one -- but she'd used a friend's to call her mom before when she was out late, and she'd seen plenty of them. Practically every week someone or other was getting a new phone and showing it off. Heck, Emerald had been showing off her new phone just the other night...
It looked real enough. Well, if what Miguel had said was true, it *was* real -- it just had an extra feature. Angela thought she should try the phone just to be sure. But who could she call? She didn't have anyone.
Well, she could call Zora.
"Hey."
"Angela?"
"Yeah."
"What's up?"
"I was just trying out my new cell phone."
"Oh, cool. About time you got one. What kind?"
"I don't know, um... Motorola."
"That's cool. So what's the number?"
"Huh?"
"What's your phone number? Or am I only good enough to test it?"
"Oh! Sorry. Hold on." Angela looked at the phone. How did she get it to show its own number?
"I'm not sure."
"You don't even know your own number?"
"I just got it."
"Well, when you figure it out, let me know, okay?"
"Sure."
"So, I heard you're meeting the big boss for dinner."
"Sheesh. Is there anybody who *doesn't* know?"
"Monique told me. I think she's mad at you because you didn't lose your panties on your first date."
Angela felt herself blush. "Great. Next time I'll just rent a billboard."
"It's not that bad. I mean, the girls at the club talk, but that's it. And you can't really blame us."
"Yeah, I know, the boss."
"That, and nobody's sure whether you want to bed him or kill him. What is it with you two?"
"It's complicated."
"You keep saying that."
"Well, it is."
"Well, whatever you're after, be careful, okay? Dino's... *complicated*."
Angela could practically hear Zora smile at turning the word around.
"Tell me about it."
Angela woke up. She was sticky with sweat, but at least she wasn't shaking as bad. And though her throat felt like Death Valley, her body wasn't trying to tie itself in knots anymore.
What time is it?
After six.
Shoot. I need to get ready.
She stood up. Maybe the shaking wasn't as bad, but it was still bad enough to make her feel unsteady.
I better take a pill now.
In the bottle: six pills. And none in her little pillbox. She fought with herself over how many she'd need that night. And the next night? She could worry about that tomorrow.
Dino was at the door. Angela only opened it a crack.
"I'm almost ready."
"I brought you a dress."
"You shouldn't have." She wasn't just being polite.
"It's from Kostya."
Shoot. Angela hoped that didn't mean the old man had some kind of thing for her. She thought about not wearing his dress just to send a clear signal -- she didn't want to be anyone's kept woman.
On the other hand, it might not be as uncomfortable as what she was wearing. She'd forgotten how scratchy it was that first night out with Dino and Sergei. And Michele-with-one-L.
"Fine, I'll take a look at it." She turned around and retreated to the bedroom, letting the front door swing open for Dino to enter.
Dino freaked out when he saw the yellow dress. "You can't wear that."
"Why not?" He'd liked it fine the last time they went out. And it was the only really nice dress she had.
"Um, because... Kostya bought you this one to wear tonight." His distressed look said that wasn't the real reason. What was wrong with the dress she was wearing?
"Well, let's see it." She took the hanger and slid the plastic up over the top.
Wow. It certainly was... *Blue*.
A silk thing that looked more like a nightgown than a dress. But then, that was a popular style...
Hmm. A one-button collar around the neck held up the front, which showed lots of shoulder but no cleavage. The sides ran down and around to a deep and *very* low-cut vee in the back; from behind, she'd be basically naked from the waist up. Good thing I just loofahed... There was a ruffle that ran from high on the hips to a low vee in front and back; below that, the skirt was an asymmetrical gathered hankerchief style, running halfway down the right shin but halfway up the right thigh -- high enough that she might have to forego stockings.
Daring, but less... bimbo-like than the yellow sequin skin-tight super-cleavage slit-to-waist thing she had on.
Might as well make the man happy.
"Go wait on the couch while I change."
"Okay."
She pushed the bedroom door far enough that he couldn't see her undress. Sounds of dishes being moved reminded her she'd left lunch on the couch. Well, people did stuff like that when they weren't feeling well. She should have just taken a Perfectua in the morning to get over it. But one probably would have led to a couple more, and then she might not have enough to get through the night. And the next morning -- she didn't need to be shaking like a leaf when she was buying more. After all, she wasn't addicted to the stuff; her body just needed to adjust. She wasn't going to take the stuff forever, but just getting through a half-day off it without freaking out wasn't enough to stop taking it altogether. She needed to get a few more, just in case. So she could taper off.
But that meant finding a new source. She was never going back to that pervert's place again.
Asking Dino probably wasn't a good idea. But Monique probably knew somebody. She seemed like the kind of girl who had connections.
Dino's voice wafted in from the living room. "Jeez. Did they find what they were looking for?"
Angela poked her head out. "Huh? Who?"
"Whoever broke in and ransacked the place."
Angela gave him a cross look, but he was serious.
"Nobody broke in. I've just been kinda busy lately and haven't had time to tidy up."
"Oh."
"Anyway, it's not like I planned to have anyone over any time soon," she shot.
Ouch.
Wow. The dress looked great. Even with her hair down. Especially with her hair down. She loved the way her hair felt swishing back and forth across her bare back.
Hmm. The front seemed a little narrow in the chest... the outer curves of her breasts just peeked out the sides. Well, it was close-fitting enough that no one was going to get a peek underneath it. No big deal.
The left side of the dress *was* cut a little too high for a garter belt, but not for stay-ups. She didn't have blue, but black would do...
Oh yeah. Black will do nicely.
Shoot. Where did her blue pumps go? She'd just worn them last night...
Dino knocked on the door, opening it. "You ready? We're gonna be late."
"I just need to find my shoes." Angela took a moment to look over the whole bedroom. As usual, it looked like a tornado had touched down.
"Here," Dino said. "Wear these."
Angela about had a heart attack when she turned around and saw Sapphire's shoes in his hand.
Thank God he didn't seem to know what they were.
Angela looked around covertly, hoping the bracelets and tiara weren't in plain view...
Shit! Her tiara was right there on her makeup table. She slid toward it casually, pretending to look for her shoes, and deftly covered the tiara with a nearby cloth... which turned out to be a pair of silk panties. The movement drew Dino's attention. He raised his eyebrow when he recognized what the garment was; she blushed.
"Come on, these are fine." He dangled them from their straps; the large sapphires glittered in the light.
"I can't wear those."
"Why not?"
"They're hard to walk in," she lied.
"You won't be walking much."
Shoot. Her pumps had apparently vanished. What about...?
"Black pumps." In the closet.
Dino made a face. "Too Prom Night. Come on." He grabbed her elbow. "Believe me, you don't want to make Kostya wait. Even if you are young and gorgeous."
Angela pulled back for a step, but then relented. If she was going into the den of the enemy, she could do worse than have a little Sapphire protection. "Hold on, let me get my purse," she said, and ducked back into the bedroom.
A moment later she had a vintage black vinyl clutch, the side toward her bulging just a little bit with her tiara, the bracelets stuffed in the bottom.
"Okay, gimme my shoes before I run my stockings."
She followed him down to the car. She was disappointed to see it was the big black Lincoln, not the Ferrari. Not that she should mind the subtle sleight -- she was trying hard to keep up a good head of angry steam. This was a mission, not a date. Dino was a jerk, and a criminal, and before long he'd be behind bars. Along with his boss. So far Dino's curt behavior wasn't doing anything to shake her resolve, but beneath it she felt in him a jagged regret that if revealed could melt her in a moment.
God, why do I let myself care what he thinks? Why do I want to be wrong about him? What is it about him that's so different? So... longing?
He opened her door and offered his hand to help her inside. Darnit, Dino, can't you just be a jerk all the time?
Angela felt like a marionette, always left dangling, never knowing which of her strings Dino Sinclair would tug on next.
They were just turning off Great Oaks when Angela looked down. The footwell glowed a faint blue with the light of her sapphires. Shoot! She kicked them off and tucked them up against the seat where the lights of buildings and street signs flashed by and drew kaleidescopic shadows and highlights.
It wasn't until they were halfway to downtown that he spoke.
"Angela, listen, I'm... sorry."
He must be talking about last night. "Don't worry about it. I know you're busy, you've got important people to see and stuff to do. Anyway, I found stuff to keep me entertained." That was an understatement.
"No, I don't mean just about last night." There was a softness in his voice. "I mean about... everything."
Angela froze, forcing herself to keep looking straight ahead.
No. Don't you dare.
Don't you apologize.
Don't you look at me. Not with those eyes.
The light turned green.
They didn't move.
Angela could feel Dino looking at her, waiting for her to look back at him.
But Angela was afraid to look. She was afraid she might see actual emotion in his eyes.
She was afraid that despite the way he'd treated her -- the way he'd used her, dumped her, tormented her -- that all it would take was a simple "I'm sorry" and one look from those piercing, vulnerable, pleading, tragic eyes.
Angela didn't know what she was going to do about what she'd learned last night, but she knew what she *wasn't* going to do.
She wasn't going to fall for this man.
Someone behind them leaned on their horn.
"It's green," Angela said.
She felt more than heard his sigh. Their car began to move.
Angela spent the rest of the drive looking out her passenger window at nothing. Not another word was spoken until they arrived.