Vanya
VANYA
I LOOKED IN the mirror cataloging the face that stared back at me. The freckles that were almost the same color as my hair that littered my skin as though they were the melanin I was seemingly missing. The pale skin that looked like butter pecan ice cream that the only mother I’d ever known had tried to bleach into her acceptable range of paleness. Curly hair that wouldn’t stay straight despite the years of damage and torture it had endured, curling up around my head and shoulders in a mass of coils, kinks and curls that I always wondered which parent gave to me. The almost carrot red color had been what radicalized me into loving myself when, for so long I was taught that nothing about me was deserving. The full lips, amber-colored eyes that were too brown to be hazel but too light to be brown and a nose that ensured my ethnicity was seen all over my face. It wasn’t something I’d ever wanted to change despite the daily reminders for years that I should. That the features I thought made me unique made those who were supposed to love me despise me. There had been a point where they’d almost won. Almost beaten down my confidence to a point where I wouldn’t recover. But my fortitude ran far deeper than they thought. I would silently combat the negativity knowing one day I would get away from it. Now, every morning, I repeated to myself that I loved me just the way I was and no one’s opinion of me would change it. I’d done that since the morning of my wedding when I’d been told the only thing I could hope to be was a good wife, despite my husband already being disappointed in me. That I needed to do whatever was necessary to earn his love.
These words from my adoptive mother. Everything about what I would need to sacrifice and nothing about what I would gain by being his wife. I guess I should thank her because at least she hadn’t lied to me. I’d made plenty of sacrifices and the only gain was the desire to experience nothing like that again.
“Let’s make today better than yesterday.” I smiled at myself appreciating the way my full cheeks made my eyes squint. I loved what I saw when I looked in the mirror and that meant the world to me.
That was all I had sometimes. The hope that today would be better than yesterday. The childhood dreams I’d had were gone. Buried in the wind once the veil of who I was adopted by lifted from my eyes. For so long, I wanted to be a good Mormon. To be bound to the family that chose me for eternity. Sealed with them in not only public record, but in the church as well.
But puberty taught me who I could and couldn’t trust.
My having an opinion was the first tolling of the bell of my delusions. Questioning why I wasn’t given the same opportunities as the other foster children led to beatings. My strength seen as a negative instead of a point of pride. I was never disrespectful, but I had read enough books to know that I enjoyed learning. Had a thirst for it and a talent for deciphering complex concepts several grade levels ahead of where I was in our homeschool curriculum. My adoptive mother had no issue with my intelligence when it could ease the burden of running the house, but for my betterment alone? That was sacrilege.
My job in life it seemed was to make hers easier. Once I moved out of the adorable little girl stage, she wanted to have another little doll she could dress up that didn’t have thoughts or opinions. They’d apparently learned from the mistake of adopting me and my ex so they only fostered children between a certain age. Once that age came and went, they would finally work with an agency to get the kids back to their parents or to adopt them out to other homes. I couldn’t recount the number of siblings I’d had over the years. They’d started to blur together despite my having been the primary caregiver to many of them. When my older foster brother could go to public school, I had to stay home and help take care of the kids. That meant staying up all night and most of the day so that my adoptive mother got her rest. I wasn’t sure what she was resting for; I was still on duty again when the sun came up.
I had a full day of client calls to make and despite the ability to work from home; I felt like being in the office. Dwelling on a past I couldn’t change wouldn’t do anything positive for my future. Thinking about those people allowed them into the present, which I had banned them from physically and needed to do mentally.
My work day would be quiet since my part time receptionist wasn’t in office today. Days like this made me miss having Frankie and Skye in the office with me. They’d been a sign of life, a sign of connection to other people I’d been missing. The girl that I got to replace her was okay, but I wasn’t going to just hurry and tell anyone my business. Although I was happy for Frankie and Liam getting together, not having them with me every day made me sad and was a reason I’d retreated into working from home more. But today I needed to get out.
I left my condo locking it up securely before heading down the elevator. The building was supposed to be luxury, but it didn’t feel like I always got what my money paid for. Monthlies were a thousand dollars a month and that included my fee for the pool, the gym, trash pickup and concierge. It also included my portion of the water bill and the twenty-four hours security that we had in the building. With over a hundred units, I knew that amount more than exceeded the value, but for a woman living alone, I wanted to do as little as I could outside the safety of my building. I got my food delivered via service and if I needed to grocery shop for snacks, the Natural Foods Store was literally steps away. I was paying for convenience and didn’t mind because it gave me peace of mind to know I could afford to.
I headed toward the cafe in the lobby before seeing someone else turn around from the closed doors.
“Again?” I scowled, not at the handsome man in front of me, but at the bullshit the owner of this place was pulling yet again.
The man shook his head in disgust while glancing back angrily over his shoulder. “Yep. Not even a note on the door or an email sent out this time. Management shouldn’t be allowed to advertise this as a benefit to living here if it’s hardly ever open.”
“Why the hell are they allowed to keep their lease? This place can’t be cheap and if they’re never here to make money how can they afford it?” I was calculating the time this was going to cost me in my morning.
I’d done enough deals with commercial real estate to know something this size with this location had to be at least ten thousand dollars a month. On the low end. South Park was an exclusive area and you had to pay the high ass rent just to say you had a business here. They couldn’t be pulling in half that with how infrequently they were open. I was convinced when they were open most of their items were from the grocery store next door with their label added on top. They were convenient but since I’d moved in; the owners had let things go. Having a place like this was meant for someone who actually cared about their residents. The current owner and management company weren’t those people.
“Probably some type of money laundering. Not a bad idea, but he needs to find someone who will front his business better.” The man, a neighbor I’d met at a welcome party at the pool one of the few nights I tried to be sociable, shrugged his shoulders as though money laundering was just a way of life.
I smiled but dipped my brows, trying to keep the curiosity from spilling out of my mouth. “You say that so flippantly.”
“Say what?”
“The criminal part.”
He straightened his tie and smoothed down the front of his windowpane navy and cream blazer. “The biggest criminals are in the government. It’s only when they see us doing what they do that they want to punish someone.”
“That can’t be denied.”
“Neither can your beauty. You ever gone let me take you out, Vanya?” He licked his lips and I immediately knew I had to stop being nice to him. He wasn’t a threat, hell I couldn’t even remember his name, but he was too intense for what I was looking for.
“No, thank you. I’m not really big on dating.” I shrugged at the small lie. Dating I didn’t mind, but dealing with people past a good meal was a nonstarter.
“Dating at all or just dating me.” He was still smiling and not the menacing kind that screamed I needed to pick my words carefully. We were out in the open so I spoke my mind.
“Both?”
His hand went to his chest and he caved it in slightly like I’d injured him. “Damn, that was blunt as hell. Not your type? You only date white boys or?”
My nose scrunched in disgust at his suggestion. “I wouldn’t ever date a white guy. Do you think just cause I look like this it’s my preference?” I pointed to my hair and I could tell he hadn’t meant to be offensive.
“You’ve got the whole I don’t know, hippie vibe about you even though you’re professional as hell. Besides, I had to wonder because I’m a fairly decent man. I mean, I work in the financial district, got a crew of frat brothers that could vouch for me. You know I’m not broke since we live in the same building. So what’s wrong with me?” He was handsome, with skin slightly darker than mine dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. Standing several inches over me, I’m sure plenty of women would see him as a catch.
“I’m not blowing you off when I say it’s not you. It’s very much me.”
He looked me up and down taking in the nude heels, navy sheath dress and lime linen blazer I was wearing before he returned to my face. “Not to be rude, but you don’t look like you have a lot of baggage. What am I missing?”
“Besides my entire childhood being jacked up and still not sure how to be in a relationship because my ex-husband was abusive? Nothing.”
He flinched again and I was sure that he was going to run the other way the next time he saw me. “Damn, all that?” His surprise echoed in the near empty marbled-floor lobby and I couldn’t keep the self-deprecating grin off my face.
“And a lot more. You don’t seem the type to really want to unpack a lot right now and I can’t blame you for that. I know I’m a lot to deal with and you seem like a good man. I date men right now that aren’t looking for something serious and you very much smell like white picket fences and Thursday night dates to Costco to stock the pantry.”
“Is that the energy I’m giving off?” He was laughing but I could also tell he knew I wasn’t wrong.
“Yes. Very much picket fence. Like you’ve already got your whole life mapped out for the next few years. You’re just looking for the girl to plug and play into the role you have for her. That’s not for me.”
“Damn, you make that shit sound fucked up.” He rubbed the back of his head like he was thoroughly stressed out by this conversation. His waves were an off black and complimented his peanut butter skin. He was handsome reminding me of a younger Derrick Rose just not as rough.
“Cause it is. Trust me, a woman wants someone that she can grow with. Someone that will be open to hearing about her desires and not just how well she fits into the framework of his life.”
He was studying me again and I didn’t mind because if I’m sure he thought I was an oddity. Most people didn’t tell someone their business so easily, but I was learning not to be ashamed of my past. “You sound like you’ve been there?”
“I could’ve written the book if I were into airing my dirty laundry. But since I’m too nice and protect people who don’t deserve it, I haven’t. So for now I stay silent.”
“You see like you’re ready to use that voice. You didn’t have a problem putting me in my place.” He wasn’t flirting. His words felt…nice. Like how Liam would talk to me.
“Well, these moments are few and far between. Anyway, I’m going to go next door and get myself something to eat and head into the office. And apparently lodging another complaint with the management board. Take it easy, Vincent.” I pulled his name out of thin air and I was grateful because he seemed relieved he hadn’t made that little of an impression on me.
“You too, Vanya.”
It felt strange talking to Vincent and putting up boundaries and having them respected. Crazy, that should be the norm but for me it wasn’t. I wasn’t going to try to be Vincent’s friend because that’s how lines got blurred but I appreciated him having a normal reaction to what I said.
He was fine and would be a good catch for someone, but I wasn’t her. It was a shame the way a man I had no intentions of entertaining had seemingly ruined all prospects for me. No one would be able to compare to Xerxes or the men he hung with. They were all hand designed by the same tailor, unique in their features but cut from the same cloth. The boldness in which he moved throughout life was addictive and despite my desire to want to stay away from his force, I was pulled into his trance no matter how I tried to fight it.
But was I really fighting it?
The way I’d looked at the door long after he’d left Frankie and Liam’s house that night after dinner should’ve been enough for me to run away. But I hadn’t. The desire to play with fire seemed to burn a hole in my head, allowing my good sense to leak out. Or maybe she was right all this time and I’d been the girl who was eager for male attention and validation.
I shook my head and crossed the polished marble floors of the lobby of the building before heading toward the parking garage. I had too much shit to do to let them back into my mind. My phone buzzed and I pulled it out, thinking it would somehow be a message from him. As though I’d summoned him from whatever distance he was away because he could feel me thinking about this. When I saw who it was from, I cringed but responded.
This was where I was comfortable. Keeping people at arm’s length and not letting them get too close. Xerxes wasn’t a man that would tolerate that. He had the type of energy that would overwhelm a woman. Suck her in and tell her to enjoy being a part of the ride. I hadn’t built up the confidence in myself all to relinquish it to someone else. I’d stay in my bubble where it was safe. Where I belonged.