I was sitting on a lounge chair in the aromatherapy room when she entered, wearing a plush, white robe matching the one that I had on, and a pair of snug slippers. She was a stunning woman who looked exactly like her photo on her website. She had her hair wrapped up in a towel, like me, but I remembered that her hair was shoulder-length and dark brown to match her eyes. She appeared younger than she probably was, but black actually doesn’t crack until well into one’s eighties.
I stood to shake her hand as she approached me. There was not a single other person in sight, including the employees. I had paid eighteen grand to rent the place for three hours.
“Dr. Spencer, nice to meet you.”
She shook my hand and stared at me for a moment. Then she smiled and I felt more at ease.
“Please, call me Marcella.” We both took seats on two lounge chairs, facing each other. “And what would you prefer for me to call you? Wicket or Ladonna?”
I hesitated, only because I was trying to figure out if I should cut the bullshit and tell her to call me Caprice. After all, the entire purpose of this was for me to “come clean.”
Instead of answering her question, I said, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience of meeting me here. If I had come to your office for an appointment, reporters would have hounded you forever and scared off your other clientele. If I had requested that you come to the house, damn near the same effect. Here at the spa, it makes it appear like we’re merely two people enjoying the same place at the same time.”
Marcella looked around. “I understand, but if they’re extremely clever, they’ll realize that no one else is here.”
“There are enough cars in the lot to play it off, but you’re right. I would never go to a crowded spa, unless I was there to do an appearance.” I shrugged. “Well, it’s the best that I could think of.”
She grinned. “I imagine that it’s not easy being you.”
“Millions of people around the world crave fame and fortune, but if they only understood the true price of fame, they’d quickly develop another outlook.” I kicked off the slippers and put my feet on the lounger, tucking them underneath me. “I want you to know that this wasn’t totally my idea.”
“No?” Marcella took a sip of the infused water that was prepared for her arrival. “Then whose idea was it?”
“My father’s.”
Daddy had practically had a heart attack all the way from Australia that day on Skype. He could read my intentions, despite my efforts to fool him over a computer screen. He insisted that I speak with Dr. Marcella Spencer, who had come highly recommended to him by a business associate. Unlike me, Daddy often had business in Atlanta.
“He’s in Australia for the next couple of weeks, then he has to head to Hong Kong for a month. He was quite upset when he found out that I was here in Atlanta.”
Marcella looked confused. “And why is that?”
I sighed. “He assumed that I’m here for a single purpose. You see, I haven’t been in Atlanta since 1987.”
“Oh? So why are you here, in Atlanta? The news outlets made it seem like you wanted a slower change of pace from New York and that you viewed the city as progressive and eclectic.”
“I see that you’re up on things.” I chuckled. “All of that was bullshit, hyperbole, and embellishment.”
“I assumed as much, but when your assistant called me to request a session, I caught up on recent press. As you know, this is a big deal for Atlanta. A lot of celebrities have homes here, but you’re arguably the biggest entertainer in the world at this point.”
“Yes, arguably, I am.” I stared into her eyes and pondered about ending the entire thing right then and there. “The irony is that I should have been dead a long time ago. In fact, I should’ve never been born. My mother should’ve aborted me the second she realized that she would hate me and treat me like a monster under her bed. It would’ve saved everyone a lot of drama.”
Marcella’s expression quickly changed as she set the water down. “I don’t know much about you, yet, Wicket, but I want you to recognize that I want to assist you. Anything you say to me will be held in complete confidence.”
I struggled to find any words, but the tears started to flow.
“If you want to sit here today and just breathe, we can do that,” she continued. “Maybe next time you’ll feel like talking.”
I still couldn’t speak.
“Would you like me to leave you alone for a few moments?”
Nothing came out, so she stood up.
“I can wait out in—”