Faking Reality

by Zaria Garrison

  Faking Reality

  Zaria Garrison

  www.urbanchristianonline.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Epilogue - One Year Later

  Reader’s Group Guide Questions

  Bio

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the ministers, evangelists, and preachers who’ve been a part of my life and inspired this story.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I must begin by thanking God who is the head of my life and the true author of all of my books. He is the reason I do what I do, and the reason I am who I am. I give Him all the glory and all of the praise.

  Sandra K. Poole, my friend whom I refer to as “Miss Editor Lady” because she edits everything I write before the paid editors get a chance to see it. She even edits my e-mails. I love you, “Auntie,” for all that you do for me and for the person that you are.

  Sophia Garrison, Kanika Payne, and Sandra Cheek, who are my advance readers, thank you for giving me your thoughts and opinions that helped make this story the best it could be.

  To Anthony Bunch, the love of my life, thank you for loving and encouraging me. To my son John, my family, and friends, who inspire and support me, I also thank you immensely.

  To those people who read and enjoyed Prodigal and Losing It, thank you for reading my stories and continuing to support me as a writer. I strive to do my best for you.

  Chapter One

  Julian Washington, owner of the newly formed Washington Broadcast Network, walked briskly up the hallway to his new office. As each step echoed in the expansive hallway, he walked with excitement and pride. When he’d made the decision to get into television, Julian wanted to offer original programming primarily aimed at minority viewers. Currently, his network existed solely by rebroadcasting old sitcoms and syndicated programming. He was making an obscene amount of money and garnering lots of accolades and attention, but as a perfectionist, Julian wanted to make even more. Instead of being a successful small network, Julian wanted to have the most successful network in the country. It was never enough for him to be great; he had to be the absolute best. He was excited that he’d finally hired an executive producer who seemed to have just as much vision and ambition as he possessed.

  Anderson Carter was a young, energetic producer looking to make his mark in television. He had attended Morehouse College with a major in marketing and a minor in broadcasting. He had very little experience, but he possessed a huge amount of talent, drive, and arrogance. At his interview, he’d convinced Julian that he had the answer that would catapult his new network to major success.

  “Mr. Washington,” Anderson had stated, “American viewers are excited about only one thing on television these days, and that’s reality TV. If you want to become a powerhouse as a television network, you’ve got to add reality programming to your station.”

  Julian agreed with him in principle. Reality television was certainly sweeping the nation. He knew that almost every network carried at least one reality program. They were inexpensive to produce, and the viewers seemed to love them, no matter what the content. However, unlike Anderson, Julian had worked in television for many years. He began as an intern at the local television station in his hometown of Greenburg, S.C., and had been promoted to station manager within two years. By the time he had reached his thirtieth birthday, Julian had several dozen producer and executive producer credits on his résumé.

  After he purchased the television station, his critics felt that a thirty-five-year-old man was too young to own and operate a network, but he had been determined to prove them wrong. He felt the only way to do that was to offer programming that no one else was offering. Jumping on the reality TV bandwagon did not fit into his plans of being original.

  “I’ve come up with a reality concept and market that is virtually untapped,” Anderson had said as he sat in Julian’s office, trying to convince him he was the right man for the job.

  “It’s all been done before. There are reality shows for finding love, losing weight, dancing, having babies, getting married, being housewives. It’s all been done before,” Julian answered.

  “My concept has never been done before. It’s original, and I think it will be a huge hit.”

  Julian sighed and leaned back in his huge red leather chair. “Fine. What is your big idea, young man?” he asked.

  “It’s called Revelations. It will be a one-hour show that goes behind the scenes in the lives of local ministers. We are going to take them from their pulpits and follow them through their everyday lives.”

  As Anderson paused to gauge his reaction, Julian sat up in his chair and began to pay closer attention. “Go on,” he urged.

  “I want us to profile four well-known local pastors. The cameras will follow them as they interact with their families and go through their normal routines. I grew up in a religious family. We attended church every Sunday. You wouldn’t believe the kind of scandalous things that some ministers do once they step out of their pulpit.” Anderson grinned with excitement.

  “While I agree with you that there are plenty of crooked preachers in the city of Atlanta, I’m not sure how you propose to get them to allow cameras to follow them around while they are doing their dirty work. We’d end up with a cleaned up version of their lives.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Washington, do you realize that reality television is not real? It doesn’t matter how much they try to clean up the dirt, our cameras will be there to uncover it. I’ve got a buddy from college whose editing skills are phenomenal. He can take any humdrum situation and create drama from it. Not only that, but I also believe that if we make the right choices, these ministers will create a wealth of drama of their own.”

  Julian was so pleased with the sales pitch that he’d hired Anderson Carter on the spot. Anderson’s assistants then put notices on Craigslist and in all of the local newspapers. After interviewing hundreds of candidates, they’d finally narrowed the choices down to four. As he opened the door to his expansive office, Julian thought back on that fateful day and meeting.

  Julian took off his suit jacket and hung it on the rack near the door before moving across the room to sit behind his desk. He felt more anxious than a five-year-old at Christmas as he waited for Anderson to arrive with the contracts.

  On his way to the office, Julian had stopped by the barbershop to have his hair trimmed. The barber touched up the line on his fade and neatly trimmed his beard, while Julian watched a bootleg movie playing on the shop television. After he had left the barbershop, he stopped at the nail salon for a manicure and pedicure. Julian prided himself on being one of the most well-groomed black men in Atlanta. In his opinion, he had not been blessed with great looks. His skin was dark and blotchy in spots, his h
air was nappy and unruly, and his nose was wide and flat. However, he’d learned early in life that with a proper haircut, his hair looked neat. Growing a full beard hid the uneven blotches on his skin and made his nose look smaller. He bought expensive body lotions to pamper his skin and stopped weekly for a mani-pedi. In addition, he had a gym built into a spare bedroom of his home where he spent at least one hour per day working out. His six feet four body was chiseled, sculpted, and firm. Several of his dates had remarked that a person could bounce a quarter off his abs. All of these rituals, combined with expensive clothing and shoes, made Julian feel as if he’d created the illusion of being an attractive man.

  He licked his index finger and gently brushed down his arched eyebrows just as Anderson knocked on his door. “Come in,” he called out.

  Anderson Carter sauntered in and placed the proposed contracts of Reverend Brandon Kitts, Evangelist Danita Hyatt, Apostle Zack (Bo) Morton, and Bishop Jimmy Snow on the desk. “I’ve had our attorneys go over these with a fine-tooth comb. As soon as they are signed, we can begin shooting,” he said.

  “That’s great,” Julian replied excitedly. “Tell me about our candidates.”

  Carter outlined the background of each pastor as he presented their paperwork. “Reverend Kitts has a congregation of close to two thousand members. He’s a former professional football player-turned-minister. He met his wife while he was still in the NFL. She was the wife of one of his teammates until their affair.”

  “Awesome, there is plenty of potential for drama there,” Julian answered.

  “Our one female pastor is Evangelist Hyatt. Her congregation is much smaller, with fewer than one thousand members. She lost almost half of her members last year, after the murder trial of her husband. However, she was acquitted on all charges and is dating again. She’s tentatively agreed to allow us to follow her on every date.”

  “Let’s hope she’s easy,” Julian said, and then laughed. He flipped through the paperwork. “What about the civil suit her late husband’s family has filed against her for wrongful death?”

  “Look on the last page. Once she signs, we’ll have clearance for the cameras to follow her to court when it comes to trial.”

  Julian smiled broadly. “Tell me about Dr. Morton. His profile seems pretty typical.”

  “He’s our token,” Carter laughed. “Dr. Morton has sandy-blond hair and blue eyes, but he’s full of soul. He has the charisma of T.D. Jakes, combined with the movie-star good looks of Matthew McConaughey. The ladies are going to love him.”

  “You are a genius, Anderson. This show is going to put us on the map,” he said excitedly. “I can hardly wait to hear about the last pastor.”

  “Well, he’s kind of a snooze. When his wife first approached me, I thought they’d be a good fit. She told me she’s a former actress. Now I’m not so sure about them.”

  “What’s the problem?” Julian wrinkled his brow in concern.

  “I found out that she was only in one movie, and it was a really small part. I’m sure nobody has ever heard of her.”

  “What’s his background?” Julian asked.

  Anderson shrugged. “He’s just the average Southern minister, as far as I can tell. I’ve only met him once.”

  Julian picked up the paperwork and read over Bishop Snow’s profile. “This is interesting. They’ve been married ten years, but they have teenage children. What’s the story on that?”

  “His first wife died, and Mrs. Snow adopted the children after they were married.”

  “Every reality show has to have that one seemingly normal person. Let’s move forward. If there’s no drama going on with the bishop and his wife, we’ll find a way to create it.” He winked at Anderson.

  “Great. I plan to get the signatures today, and we’ll start filming tomorrow. I have camera crews ready for each of them. We’ll film everything, and then be ready to air in about four months.”

  Julian rubbed his beard with his right hand. “No, I want this done totally different. If we want to be cutting edge, then we have to change up the game. I want the shows that are airing to be filmed no more than two weeks prior.”

  “Are you sure about that? We’re going to have to do editing on a daily basis in order to accomplish that.”

  “I don’t care. You said your buddy was an editing expert. Besides, I’ve found that all of these other reality shows have one flaw. The gossip blogs print what’s going to happen before it’s aired. I don’t want that on this show. I want something fresh and new.”

  Anderson grinned. He was twenty-seven years old, but still wore braces like a preteen. “You got it boss.” He reached over the desk and happily shook Julian’s hand.

  After Anderson left his office, Julian casually leaned back in his chair and thought about his life. In addition to the television station, Julian owned a ten-room mansion in one of Atlanta’s most affluent neighborhoods. Each morning before heading in to his downtown corporate offices, he had the luxury of choosing how to arrive. On the days that he felt conservative and reserved, he drove to work in his slate-blue BMW sedan. If he was feeling adventurous, he’d speed out of his driveway behind the wheel of his candy-apple-red Porsche. Then there were days when he just felt lazy, and that’s when he’d allow his chauffeur to drive him to work in his custom-designed limousine.

  He traveled regularly to destinations throughout the United States, as well as took vacations in such exotic places as Paris, France, and Milan, Italy. To the naked eye, it appeared that Julian Washington had it all. Julian, however, did not share that opinion. From his perspective, his life was empty. He knew that he should be elated about his new show and the fact that he was steadily becoming one of Atlanta’s most powerful moguls, but his success was bittersweet.

  During his lifetime, Julian had dated many women, including several runway models, a soap-opera actress, and two Grammy Award–winning singers. He was considered by most people to be one of Atlanta’s wealthiest and most eligible bachelors, but Julian didn’t care about any of those things. Sitting alone in his office, Julian felt melancholy as he stared out of the window at the city below him. Of all the things I own, I’d give it all back in a heartbeat if I could just have you back in my life, he thought.

  Chapter Two

  Sitting in his office, Bishop Jimmy Snow slowly read over the contract in front of him. He looked up at his wife, Yolanda, as he came to a portion he did not completely understand. “I think we need to let a lawyer read this over before we decide,” he said.

  “What for, Jimmy? It’s a standard contract,” she answered.

  Anderson Carter, the executive producer of the show, sat next to her, smiling broadly. “Go ahead and let your attorney look over it, Bishop. That’s fine with me. Or if you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them for you.”

  Bishop Snow pointed to a line in the contract. “It says here that you have final approval over what is shown on television. I think that I should have the final say.”

  “That simply means we’ll do some editing before it’s shown. We are going to have cameras running almost twenty-four hours per day. We have to edit it for content.”

  “Twenty-four hours a day?” Bishop Snow shook his head. “No, we wouldn’t have any privacy at all.”

  Yolanda Snow looked back and forth between the two men, desperately trying to hide her deep desire to do the television show. “Jimmy, you promised me you’d consider this. I mean, I think it would be good for the church.”

  “Yolanda, do you really want a camera crew following us everywhere we go?” He turned to Anderson. “I think it would be better if the cameras just followed me at the church. That would be a lot less intrusive.”

  Anderson sat quietly for a few seconds before responding. “Well, that’s not the show the network wants, but I guess I could talk to them about it.”

  Yolanda suddenly sat forward in her chair. “What about me? If the cameras only follow you at the church, I won’t be on the show,” she said anx
iously.

  Bishop Snow and Anderson looked at her surprised, as they both suddenly realized just how much she wanted to do the television show. Before their marriage ten years earlier, Yolanda Snow had aspirations of being a movie star. She had participated in theatre in high school and college. In her hometown of Greenburg, S.C., she had a key role in a local production of August Wilson’s play Fences. Right after that, she had moved to Atlanta and immediately had been cast in a low-budget independent film. Yolanda’s on-screen time was less than two minutes, yet she sincerely hoped it would lead to more roles and a successful acting career.

  Instead, she had met and fallen deeply in love with the young, dynamic pastor, Jimmy Snow. At the time, he had been a widower with a five-year-old son and seven-year-old daughter. After only an eight-month courtship, they were married. Yolanda believed that the love she felt for him and his children far outweighed her acting aspirations. She was content to head the church drama department and occasionally act in a local theatre group.

  However, when she’d seen the posting on Craigslist advertising a new reality show for ministers and their families, she felt chills of excitement coursing through her veins. To Yolanda, it represented the chance to fulfill her long-dormant dream of being on television, while at the same time, feeding her secret passion for reality TV shows. She’d contacted the show’s producer and tentatively agreed to do the show without telling her husband. Now, all she had to do was convince Jimmy it was a good idea. She tried to be nonchalant and discreet, but as she sat in his office watching the chance slip through her fingers, she’d suddenly become frantic.

  Seeing the look in her eyes, Bishop Snow tried to soothe her. “Yolanda, you will be a part of the show. As the first lady, the cameras would also have the opportunity to follow you as you work in ministry as well.” He looked over at Anderson for help. “Isn’t that correct?” he asked.

  Anderson looked over at Yolanda, then back at Bishop Snow. He’d promised the network that this show would dig deeply into the personal lives of all of the ministers it featured. There was no way he was going to settle for a watered-down version, filmed only at the church. Mentally, he began going over the other names on his list, feeling the Snows were a waste of his time. “Listen, Bishop Snow, I have to agree with your wife. If we only film at the church, the show will be nothing more than your sermons and you sitting in the office.”