Double Dippin': Misty - Part 7
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Part 7

Holding a beaded clutch, she felt pretty in her black dress and stilettos when she exited the elevator and crossed the lobby. The concierge smiled in appreciation of her cla.s.sy look, and she smiled back. But her smile vanished when she stepped outside and saw Majid and two other men sitting behind the wheel of a Range Rover that was exactly like Sergio's. She'd forgotten that Sergio required bodyguards to accompany him everywhere.

Like a perfect gentleman, Sergio, looking spiffy in a black suit, got out of his Range and opened the door for her. They made a striking couple, she thought to herself. During the short drive to the art gallery, she found herself constantly looking in the side mirror and watching Majid. He was tailing them for Sergio's protection, but he seemed more like a shark tracking prey.

The party at the gallery was lively and crowded with champagne and finger foods being served to guests on silver trays. The artist was from the Dominican Republic and his work was a vivid reflection of island life. Sergio introduced her to the artist and then the two men chatted briefly in Spanish. Anya drifted away, giving them privacy while she used the time to admire the art that looked vibrant and realistic.

As she stared at a painting of a boy holding up a big fish he'd caught, she felt arms encircle her waist. "See anything you like?" Sergio said softly.

"I like everything. Your artist friend is very talented. I've never bought any original art, but I'm considering getting this piece. It'll look good in my place." She glanced down at the price tag and whistled. "Jesus!" she said in response. "Thirty-five hundred dollars! Wow, that's steep."

"If you like it, it's yours," Sergio said.

"No, I can't let you-"

"Shh." He held a finger to his lips. "Have another gla.s.s of champagne while I make the arrangements to have the painting delivered to your apartment."

Sergio strolled away and a server magically appeared with more champagne.

Anya felt so warm and fuzzy inside, she was no longer annoyed by the presence of Majid and the crew. In fact, she nodded her head at Majid, acknowledging him. He stretched his lips into a smile that looked more like a sneer. Anya shuddered.

Sergio returned and draped an arm over her shoulder. "I missed you," he whispered.

She smiled up at him, basking in the warmth of his attentiveness. She was proud to be with such a strikingly handsome man and the way he kept her cuddled close to him, she could tell he felt the same. They admired the paintings together, and Sergio seemed to have a personal experience with every scene depicted in the artwork. He told her interesting stories about Santa Domingo.

"You'll have to go there with me one day; you'll love my island," he told her with a wistful look in his eyes.

"Have you been there lately?" she asked.

"No, I've never gone back since I left. I've been waiting for my princess to be my side when I returned."

Was he inviting her to travel to the Dominican Republic with him? she wondered. Why was such a hot-looking man with loads of money sweating her to such an extreme? She made a mental note to let him know that it wasn't necessary to stroke her ego simply to get her in bed. His s.e.x skills made him more than welcome.

Revealing his bad-boy persona, Sergio swiped a bottle of champagne from a serving tray before they left the gallery. "One for the road," he said with a devilish smile. In his Range, they both sipped from the bottle, laughing as they pa.s.sed it back and forth. Anya felt naughty and carefree as she drank from the pilfered bottle of champagne.

Back at her apartment, she never got a chance to bring up the subject of him stroking her ego. With him drizzling champagne down the center of her back and letting it trickle down to the crack of her b.u.t.t cheeks, she forgot all about the conversation she wanted to have with him.

When his tongue stroke followed the liquid trail, she grasped the sheets and bit into her pillow as she surrendered her body to him.

CHAPTER 10.

Gavin Stallings' long money and clout had worked miracles. After arranging a speedy consultation with the esteemed Dr. Cavanaugh, he orchestrated a swift date for Misty to undergo surgery. And now, lying on the operating table, Misty was surrounded by Dr. Cavanaugh and his capable team.

"I'm going to make you even more beautiful than you were before," the doctor rea.s.sured with a twinkle of confidence in his eyes. That promise had Misty dreamy-eyed and feeling lightheaded before the anesthesiologist had administered the injection.

She woke up to excruciating pain after the ten-hour surgery. It didn't help that each time a nurse checked her pulse and accidentally brushed her palm, Misty would see flashes of light as head-splitting images raced across the screen of her mind. She was too dazed to make sense of the images, but possessed enough awareness to wish she could hit the pause b.u.t.ton on her gift of sight. The random images that depicted the lives of people she couldn't even see, due to the mummified bandages wrapped around her face and head, were giving her a migraine.

She released an agonized moan and someone mercifully put her out of her misery with a painkiller injected into her IV.

It was finally time for the big reveal. She'd yet to meet her benefactor, the mysterious Gavin Stallings, but they spoke on the phone regularly.

Brick was there, holding Misty's hand and maintaining a poker face when the last bandage was stripped away.

"Am I beautiful, Brick?" she asked in a voice strained by anxiety.

"You'll always be beautiful," Brick responded, rubbing her hand.

"There's still a lot of swelling, which is to be expected, but it should go down in another week or so," Dr. Cavanaugh said.

Needing to see for herself, Misty slowly worked her gnarled fingers around the handle of the mirror that was at her side and determinedly brought it up high enough to see her reflection. "Oh, G.o.d; I'm still hideous. I look worse than before the surgery," she said, shooting the surgeon an accusatory look.

"I'm an expert in my field and I can a.s.sure you that you're going to see evidence of your new, beautiful face very soon," the doctor said.

Misty surveyed her image. "My face is bloated and distorted; I don't look anything like myself," she whined.

"Healing from surgery takes a while, but you must have faith in me and be patient," the doctor said as he began scribbling in Misty's chart. "Trust me, Ms. Delagardo, your beauty will be astonishing," the surgeon said. His voice didn't waver; he didn't blink. He seemed utterly convinced that her face, distorted by lumps, blisters, and bruises would settle into something beautiful.

"If you say so," she said, sulking.

"Oh!" the doctor said, suddenly remembering something. "I have some rather good news for you."

"What's that?" Misty looked at the doctor through eyes with lids so swollen, she could barely make out more than an outline of the man.

"I know you're weary of being in the hospital, and I've spoken with your other doctors and we agree that you're well enough to be discharged, tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! You want me to leave the hospital and go out in public looking like this?" Misty was dumbfounded.

"It'll be all right, babe. It's time to start getting used to doing some things for yourself," Brick added.

"I'm not ready. I can't leave here until I look like myself, again."

The doctor's eyes shifted downward. "Actually," he said, his gaze aimed at the floor, "your coverage won't allow you to continue convalescing here. We can get a social worker to speak to you about long-term care facilities, if you'd like."

"I know you're not trying to put me in one of those places for invalids," Misty said, indignant.

Brick shook his head defensively. "No, that's why I got the apartment for us, so you wouldn't have to go into a facility."

Misty wanted to give Brick an appreciative smile, but was too swollen to manage it. She directed her attention to Dr. Cavanaugh. "What about Gavin Stallings? I thought he was paying for everything."

"He paid for the reconstructive surgery and has promised to pay for extensive dental work once your face has healed," Dr. Cavanaugh replied, writing additional notes in Misty's chart. "Your coverage does include a home health care nurse for a few hours a day," he said with an encouraging smile.

Misty sighed audibly.

"I'd like to see you in my office in two weeks." The doctor left his card on the nightstand, shook Brick's hand, and then squeezed Misty's arm in parting.

"This is some bulls.h.i.t," she said to Brick after the doctor exited. "Gavin has enough money to keep me here while I'm healing. Why would he let them kick me out like I'm trash?"

Brick shrugged. "Who knows the ways of eccentric rich folks?" Brick gently placed a hand on Misty's shoulder. "I got you, Misty. You don't have to worry about anything...you hear me?"

She nodded mechanically as her mind raced with terrifying thoughts. Suppose Gavin Stallings was a crazy, vindictive former client whom she'd burned. Misty had been a ruthless pimptress and had hurt a lot of people in her life. Gavin Stallings was a wealthy, gay man and she'd sent most of the boys who hustled for her out on "dates" with men of means. Men who didn't mind paying hefty prices to suck young d.i.c.k. And some of those men fell in love with her hunky recruits. Oh, G.o.d, suppose Gavin was out for revenge and had hired the surgeon to deliberately f.u.c.k up her face worse than it already was. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Was it possible that Gavin had hired the woman who had tried to kill her and was now intent on making sure she lived a fate worse than death?

She glanced in the mirror again. Ugh! She looked like the f.u.c.kin' elephant man. She'd been so stupid to allow a nutty stranger to select a surgeon to give her a new face.

"Brick," Misty said in a whimper.

"Yeah, babe?" He ma.s.saged her shoulder. "Stop worrying, you're gonna be all right."

"Remember when you promised to get revenge on the person who hurt me?"

Abruptly halting the shoulder ma.s.sage, Brick's hand went still. "Yeah, I remember. And you told me to leave it alone; you said you were at peace with everything."

"That's when I was preparing to die, but things have changed, and I need to know who did this to me. I need that b.i.t.c.h and everybody a.s.sociated with her to be dead." And that includes Gavin, if he paid for the botched hit.

"I already took care of that."

"What do you mean?"

"It wasn't a female who hurt you."

"Yes, it was. A tall b.i.t.c.h wearing Louboutins."

"No, it was one of your workers, dressed like a woman," Brick said grimly.

"Which one?" Misty's voice raised several pitches.

"A dude named Horatio."

"Horatio! Are you f.u.c.kin' kidding me? Why would Horatio want to kill me?" Then she recalled their trip to Miami and how she had treated him. How she'd gone as far as firing him after he had helped her hook up with mega star, Smash Hitz. So what? He should have taken it like a man. You win some; you lose some. You don't go around disfiguring and paralyzing people because you got your feelings hurt.

"He's been dealt with," Brick said, his face tense and with a deadly look in his eyes. "I made sure he suffered. At first that punk was pleading for his life, and then he was wishing he could hurry up and die."

Misty nodded in satisfaction. "What about Smash Hitz? I'm sure he had something to do with it."

"Nah, he didn't. It was a b.i.t.c.h named Juicy who set you up. Her and another woman named Redbone."

"Juicy did this to me! That no good, jealous-a.s.s-"

"She ain't breathing no more. Died of AIDS. And that Redbone chick died a painful death right along with Horatio. Did you really think I'd be able to rest if I didn't track down those m.u.t.h.af.u.c.kas?"

"I should have known you would handle it. Who is Redbone, though? Why did she hate me?"

"Her and Juicy were f.u.c.king each other. Redbone was part of the set-up, trying to please Juicy. And that was a big mistake on her part. If the Grim Reaper hadn't gotten to Juicy first, I would have paid her a visit in the hospice place where she was staying and skinned her a.s.s alive before she had the chance to check out peacefully on pain meds."

"I'm relieved that Gavin wasn't involved."

"Why would you even think that?" Brick was baffled.

Misty made a face and shrugged.

"He's not out to get you. Why would he spend all that money for a makeover if he wanted to harm you? That nightmare is over, Misty. It's gonna be smooth sailing from now on."

CHAPTER 11.

Late afternoon, Brick had gone to look for work again. There was a tap on Misty's door. The nurse had applied fresh bandages, which sufficiently concealed her dreadful appearance, and Misty called, "Come in," feeling somewhat confident that with her face bandaged, at least she wouldn't scare the bejesus out of whoever was attempting to enter her room.

She was surprised to see David coming through the door with his cleaning cart filled with spray bottles of disinfectant and waste bin liners.

"Come back tomorrow, after I check out," Misty said snippily. She didn't feel like being disturbed while she was watching a rerun of The Preachers of LA, a reality show about religious leaders who enjoyed excessive lifestyles that allowed them to live in mansions and own multiple luxury cars. If those pompous jerks could earn that much money from merely yelling Bible verses with pa.s.sion, then she should be able to live like a queen with her new gift of inner vision.

Hmm. Inner Vision had a nice ring to it. Misty's Church of Inner Vision. No, if she put the word "church" in the t.i.tle of her operation, she'd have to start learning scripture and she didn't have time for that.

The House of Inner Vision. Yeah, that sounded much better. She smiled to herself as she imagined a mega, church-like structure where she'd give readings to desperate people who would pay any price to glimpse their future.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that David was still lingering in her room. "Are you deaf? I said come back and clean in here tomorrow," she said in an aggravated voice that should have made him scurry away.

But he stood his ground. Grim-faced, his back rigid.

"Let me rephrase my question. Do you have a hearing problem?"

"No, uh, I want to apologize about the way I acted when you told me about my wife and the man with the dreads."

"Apology accepted," Misty said without taking her eyes from the TV screen.

"I was wondering if you could give me another reading."

"h.e.l.l, no," she barked. "My services aren't free, and you can't afford another reading. You should have been more appreciative when I was doing giveaways. Like most people, you thought a freebie had no value. Oh, well, it's your loss, not mine."

"Please. I need to know if I pulled the trigger on the dude who's cheating with my wife."

"You don't need me to tell you that. Either you're gonna do it or you're not. Only you know the answer to that."

He began to pace. "I never thought about killing anyone before, but right now, I'm close to getting a gun and killing both of them, and then turning it on myself," David said, looking tortured.