If this was just a ploy to get out of the way of Mae Frances’s wrath, it was working. Jasmine smiled. “That would be great. I want more exposure for my foundation.”
“Okay!” Melinda exhaled like she’d redeemed herself all the way. “I’m glad we’re ending on a good note.”
“Me, too.” Jasmine pushed back her chair, stood, and Mae Frances did the same. “So, if we’re done here.”
“Actually, I was hoping for one more thing.” Melinda glanced at her watch. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting. . . .”
There was a knock on the door.
Melinda smiled. “Right on time.” She stood. “I have a little surprise for you, Jasmine.” Turning toward the door, Melinda yelled out, “Come in.”
Jasmine watched as the door slowly pushed open. Then, her eyes widened.
“Melinda,” Natasia said as she stepped inside the conference room.
“Yes, come on in.” Melinda’s grin was wide when she turned to Jasmine. “Surprise! The EP of the show is going to be . . . Natasia Redding. You two know each other, right?”
Melinda beamed as if she’d just brought two long-lost friends together. But she was the only one in the room feeling any kind of joy.
Natasia stared.
Jasmine glared.
And Mae Frances shouted, “Oh, lawd,” as she fell back in her chair. “Up popped the devil!”
Chapter
SIX
Rachel
Mommy, where are you going?”
Rachel zipped the last of her Louis Vuitton luggage and set the suitcase on the floor. She picked up her four-year-old son, Lewis, and marveled at how big the little boy was getting.
“Sweetie, Mommy told you. I’m going to Atlanta to be a star.”
“But you already a star,” Lewis said with a big innocent grin.
Rachel toussled the little boy’s hair. How she loved this little boy, as if she’d given birth to him herself. Her bond with Lewis was just as strong as it was to her biological children, Nia, Jordan, and Brooklyn.
Rachel and Lester had agreed that one day they would tell Lewis about his biological mother, Mary Richardson, but not until he was able to handle it. If Rachel had her way, she’d never say a word, but Lewis was biracial and would no doubt have questions once he realized his skin tone was different from his siblings. In the meantime, they would continue to shower the little boy with love and let him know that he was as much a part of their family as anyone else.
“So, you’re really going to leave?” Nia asked, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, a scowl across her face. Brooklyn stood next to her.
“Honey, we’ve already talked about this.” Rachel motioned for her eight-year-old daughter to come sit on the bed next to her. “It’s not going to be that long. I’m just going to go down, shoot some scenes, and maybe we’ll even fly you all down and shoot some stuff with you.”
“So, I get to be on TV, too?” Nia asked, finally breaking a smile as Brooklyn climbed on the bed next to her.
“Yes,” Rachel replied.
“No,” Lester interjected as he appeared in the doorway to their bedroom. “Rachel, we’ve already had this conversation. You doing this reality show is one thing. But you having our children on is another thing entirely, and where I draw the line.”
“Seriously, Lester? It’s just an innocent reality show.” Rachel huffed.
“There’s nothing innocent about those shows.”
“Daddy, why won’t you let me be on it?” Nia whined.
“Yeah, I wanna be a star like Mommy,” Brooklyn added.
Rachel pulled both of her daughters close to her. “See, it’s a Family Affair.”
Lester narrowed his eyes at her. She knew he wasn’t happy. He hated when she used the children like this, but he needed to see that what she was doing was for the good of their entire family. Lester had already carved a niche for himself as president of the American Baptist Coalition and she’d done well as the First Lady, creating programs and bringing some much-needed (and yes, a little unwanted) attention to the ABC. But this would take things to a whole different level. This would make her a power player. This would give her fame and a little fortune on the side. But it’s the fame she wanted more than anything else. Although she liked the finer things in life—Coach, Michael Kors, an occasional trip to the Bahamas—Rachel didn’t need a lot. But fame, that was a completely different ballgame. The fame would make people stand up and take notice. She had grown up as the preacher’s daughter. Now, she was the preacher’s wife. If this reality show went like she expected, she would be simply Rachel, the star.
“Nia, take your sister and brother and go play upstairs,” Lester said.
“But Dad . . .” Nia cried.
“Not open for discussion,” he said firmly.
Rachel kissed all of her children. “I’m not going to leave without coming to talk to you. Do like your father said.”
As they scurried out, Rachel stood and glared at her husband. When she first met Lester, he was a pimply faced, red-mop-headed, shy boy. Now, he’d definitely evolved into a full-grown man with a backbone that sometimes worked her nerves. Even though Nia and Jordan weren’t his biologically, he prided himself on being a good father to them, so Rachel knew that he was just trying to protect the kids.
Lester had gotten a lot more firm with her than he’d been in the early years of their marriage, but Rachel still knew how to win him over. She just chose her battles a little more wisely, and whether or not to have the kids on the reality show was not a battle she wanted to fight—just yet.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart. The kids won’t be on the show. More air time for me.” She planted a sultry kiss on him and he pulled her close.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you, too. But I’ll be back in a few weeks. They wanted my family to come down and shoot a few scenes but I understand you don’t want to be on. I guess the producers will just have to hire me a family.”
Lester’s mouth gaped open. “What? They do that?”
“If they have to.” Rachel knew that ultimately, Lester would never go for that kind of deception, so she wanted to plant that little seed so that it would fester and get him to agree with her eventually.
“Well, I guess I’d better get going,” she said.
“Let me go grab my keys.”
“Oh, no. I have a car service coming.”
“A car service?” Lester balked. “What kind of sense does that make when I’m right here?”
“It makes a lot of sense because that’s how we stars roll,” Rachel tweaked his cheek before zipping her overnight kit. “Besides, Oprah is paying for it.”
He laughed. “Oh, Oprah is paying for it?”
“Oprah, OWN, whatever. We’re not footing the bill.”
“Okay, babe.” It was then that Lester noticed a package on the bed, next to a stack of flyers. “What’s this?” He looked at the package, then at Rachel. “Addressed to Mary?”
“Just some pictures of Lewis.” Rachel shrugged nonchalantly.
He looked at her in admiration. “I think it’s great how you continue sending her pictures.”
“Well, of course I don’t want her getting any ideas, but as a mother, I’d want to see my child. Even if it was just a picture.” Rachel had wrestled with that decision, especially because she couldn’t stand that tramp, Mary. But Lewis couldn’t help it that he was a product of that slug. And at the end of the day, Mary was essentially going to rot in prison, so Rachel saw no harm in sending her photos.
“Have I ever told you how awesome you are?” Lester asked.
“Not nearly enough.” She kissed him, and then made her way over to the walk-in closet to get a pair of shoes she’d forgotten.
When she walked back out, Lester had picked up a flyer and was reading it. “ ‘Stay tuned for The First Lady, coming soon to OWN.’ Wow, they’ve gotten flyers printed already?”
Rachel le
aned over and examined the flyer. “You like?” It was a picture of her standing in front of Harpo Studios. Well, she wasn’t actually in front of the studio. She’d just had it Photoshopped in the background but her graphic designer had done such an awesome job, it looked like she was right there.
“That’s just a little something I had printed,” she said.
“So, you had these printed?” Lester asked.
“Yes. You like?”
“How are you going to have something printed on your own?”
A mischievous grin spread across Rachel’s face. “I just emailed one to Jasmine.”
Lester shook his head. “Why would you do that?”
“Because since we’re halfway cool now, I wanted her to hear about the show from me.” Rachel expected to have heard from Jasmine by now. Everyone was talking about the Access Hollywood interview, but Jasmine still hadn’t reached out to her.
Lester turned his lips up. “Really, Rachel? You’re sending her a flyer?”
“Okay, there’s a part of me that wanted to make sure she knew,” Rachel admitted. “I wish I could be there to see the look on her face.” Rachel laughed.
Lester dropped the flyer back on the bed. “You guys have some kind of friendship. And I hope you don’t get in trouble when they see it.”
Rachel put her purse strap over her shoulder, grabbed her carry-on, slid her sunglasses on, and said, “I keep trying to tell you, baby, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Now, grab my suitcases, I’m ready to roll!”
Chapter
SEVEN
Natasia
Ladies and gentlemen, as we begin to make our final approach into Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, please bring your seat backs into the full upright position.”
With her eyes still closed, Natasia pressed the button in the console next to her seat and eased herself upright. Those words had come much too soon. How could two hours have passed so quickly?
Her plan had been to get on this plane, find her seat in first class, and then sleep from wheels up to wheels down. But she hadn’t been able to sleep a minute of the two-hour flight. Sleep had treated her like the enemy and had stayed away, just like it had all the nights since she’d been in New York.
She sighed and shook her head as that New York scene once again played in her mind.
Ambushed!
That was the only way to describe how Natasia had felt. The ambush-er had become the ambush-ee. And Natasia didn’t appreciate being on the other side of someone’s trick. A couple of weeks had passed, but the memory of that day at the OWN corporate offices still made her shudder.
* * *
Natasia stepped into the room, but the scene in front of her did not compute. Then, the old woman, wearing that mangled furry coat, spoke up.
“Up popped the devil!”
And in that instant, clarity came. She’d been tossed into the lion’s den. Natasia turned her attention to the lion.
“Jasmine!”
At the same moment, Jasmine spoke, “Natasia!”
Then, simultaneously they said, “What are you doing here?”
Melinda answered for both of them. “Natasia, I told you that Jasmine was going to be on the show.” Then, she turned to Jasmine. “And I wanted to surprise you. Reunite you with an old friend.”
Melinda grinned like the Cheshire Cat and Jasmine and Natasia both growled. Jasmine turned her glare from Natasia for just a moment and shot daggers of hate toward Melinda.
The way Jasmine stared Melinda down, as if she wished she’d drop dead right there, made Natasia feel a bit better; she wasn’t the only one who’d been set up.
Jasmine grabbed her bag from the table. “Are we done, Melinda?” she asked, though she didn’t wait for an answer. Jasmine swept by Melinda and barely gave Natasia another glance.
Natasia frowned as the smile on Melinda’s face widened, until the old woman stood up. With a slow stroll, the woman whom Natasia finally recognized as Jasmine’s elderly friend moved closer to Melinda. The smile that the VP had worn from the moment Natasia stepped into the room faded and now a shadow of fear covered her face.
But the woman’s attention went straight to Natasia. “Up popped the devil,” she said again as she brushed past Natasia.
Natasia waited until the door was completely closed before she turned to Melinda. “I didn’t know Jasmine was going to be here,” she said accusingly.
Melinda simply shrugged. “I’m only in for the day and I had to set up back-to-back meetings.” Then, her lips curved into a saccharine smile. “That’s not a problem, is it? I thought you and Jasmine were old friends.”
Natasia crossed her arms. She had set up too many people, put together too many scenarios, played out too many schemes, not to recognize this game. She knew that Melinda was a smart woman who did her homework; who vetted the people she’d be working with. Surely she knew something about the history between her and Jasmine.
“You know that Jasmine and I were never the best of friends, right?” Natasia asked. Her question was a setup of her own, in hopes that Melinda’s answer would give Natasia some insight into what was going on in Melinda’s mind.
“No,” Melinda said. “I didn’t know that.”
Liar!
Melinda added, “But it’s all business, right? You’ll be able to handle this.”
“Definitely,” Natasia said as she finally took a seat at the conference table. At least now she knew where she stood with Melinda. This chick could not be trusted.
“Okay, well, let’s get started,” Melinda said.
Natasia pasted her own fake smile on her face and nodded as Melinda spoke about the plans for the show. But while she sat as if she was giving Melinda her full attention, her mind was on her own plans that had just imploded.
This was supposed to be a legitimate way for her to arrange a meeting with Hosea. But Jasmine being here messed all of that up. Because Natasia had no doubt that Jasmine would run home, tell Hosea, and block any chances of Natasia being able to contact him. Not only that, now that Jasmine knew Natasia was working on the show, of course she would do whatever she could to get Natasia dumped the way she had when Natasia had worked on Hosea’s show.
She wasn’t worried about that this time, though. Natasia came with high credentials, an impressive résumé. This reality show was lucky, no, blessed to have her name attached. Jasmine wouldn’t be able to get to Melinda. At least not in that way.
Jasmine’s poison would come in on the other side of her plan, the Hosea side. There was no way she’d be able to stay with her original plan of contacting Hosea. Not with the element of surprise now gone.
Well, she wasn’t about to give up. She had to get to Hosea; she’d just have to be direct about it.
The forty-five-minute meeting with Melinda lasted forty-four minutes too long, and if Natasia had had the energy, she would’ve stood up and danced atop the table when Melinda finally said, “Well, that’s all I have. Do you have any questions for me?”
“No, not at all,” Natasia said. “You’ve explained it all clearly.” She used the conference table to brace herself before she pushed back.
Melinda stood with her. “Your ticket for Atlanta has already been purchased. My assistant will email you the details. Oh, and we have reservations for you at Buckhead Tower, you know, the four-star, extended-stay hotel.”
“I know it well,” Natasia said.
“Well, we have a one-bedroom suite there for you.”
“That’s fine,” Natasia said, glancing at her watch.
“I’m sorry,” Melinda said. “Am I holding you from something?”
“No, I just want to make sure that I get back to LaGuardia in time.”
“You’re flying out tonight?”
Natasia nodded. “I just came in for the meeting with you,” she said, looking Melinda straight in the eye. If Melinda could lie to her, then she could lie, too, with the same straight face, with the same sugary smile. “I ha
ve to get back to Chicago and close out my job.”
“Is everything okay with that?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m taking an extended leave of absence. The network was glad to have me get this extra exposure on OWN.”
Melinda nodded. “Well, it’s too bad you’re leaving tonight. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for drinks. Or maybe even a quick dinner.”
“Sorry, not this time,” Natasia said, knowing that she would never break bread with this woman—at least not on a social level. Melinda had moved to the top of her skank list. “Maybe once we get to Atlanta we can hang out,” she added anyway.
Melinda paused, stared at Natasia for a long moment. And in Melinda’s eyes, Natasia could see Melinda was trying to figure her out. “Yeah, we’ll get a chance to do that a lot in Atlanta.”
With just a few more words of goodbye, Natasia walked out of the room with her head high and her back straight. It wasn’t until she was in the hallway that she slowed her steps, giving herself time to gather her strength. Inside the elevator, she leaned against the panels and pushed the meeting with Melinda from her mind. It was time to focus on Hosea.
When the elevator stopped on the first floor, Natasia stepped out tentatively and looked around, half expecting to find Jasmine and her ancient, fur-covered sidekick waiting to pounce on her. But all was clear. She stayed on high alert when she stepped outside into the early evening madness known as Times Square.
With just a few steps to the curb and then a raise of her hand, a cab rolled to a stop and she slipped inside. “The Plaza Hotel,” she said, and then leaned back on the cracked pleather seat.
Melinda may have believed that Natasia was on her way to the airport, but she wouldn’t be doing that today. Instead, she had a two-night reservation at one of New York’s premiere hotels, and she had hoped that she’d see Hosea at least one of those nights.
Fortune & Fame: A Novel Page 5
