by Deja King
“Hi, baby,” William said as he gave Tyler a long passionate kiss.
“William, I haven’t even closed the door yet; people can see what we’re doing,” she said, feeling perturbed that he always wanted to display open affection in spite of his married status.
“So what? Like everyone doesn’t know that you’re my lady and I’m your man. You make me so proud I have to show you off.”
“You’re so silly. I know you may feel like my man, but it makes me feel uncomfortable when everyone is in our business,” Tyler complained.
“Get used to it, baby, this is Hollywood. When people stop caring about your business is when you should start feeling uncomfortable.” William definitely had a point there. One minute you can’t get rid of the paparazzi and you scream for some privacy. The day you finally get it means your career is all but dead in this business. The fact that people were interested in what Tyler was doing meant that she was a hot commodity, which was what you had to be in order to stay on top. Look at Jennifer Lopez: every time her stock starts to plummet she gets married, and it works. Instantly her romance is front page news. This business is cutthroat and if you want to stay on top you have to do what you have to do. More and more, William was teaching Tyler that.
William cut right to the point of their meeting. “Listen, we need to find your love interest for Angel. You had no chemistry with anyone you’ve tested with. We’ve run through all of our potential candidates.”
“Why don’t you play the role?” Tyler laughed as she put her hands around William’s waist and started to unzip his pants. William grabbed her hands with force and pulled Tyler back in front of his desk. When it came time for business, William had no tolerance for fun and games. Tyler knew to back off and get serious.
“Listen, this is serious. This project has already been delayed because we haven’t found the right actor for the part. I’ll be damned if this movie falls apart because of this shit. Time is up, and we need our Damian.”
“Do you have any other actors in mind? We’ve met with every young hot black and Hispanic actor out and none of them worked,” Tyler questioned.
“Yeah, well maybe we should go with an unknown.”
“But baby, this is the first movie I’m headlining, do you really think we should get an unknown? I really think we should get an established actor.” Tyler observed William getting that twinkle in his eyes when he felt he had a bright idea.
“How about T-Roc? The other night at my party he showed a genuine interest in auditioning for the part. He is unknown in the movie world but he is a superstar in the music and fashion industry. He has a ton of endorsements and is known worldwide. He is the right age and has the appropriate attitude for the part.”
“You mean arrogant and egotistical? What if he can’t give that off on the screen? It’s one thing to have those characteristics; it’s another to deliver it in a movie.”
“True indeed, but the only way to know is to get him in here for a screen test.”
“Didn’t you tell him to call you, William?”
“Yeah, but he has his hands in so many pots he might’ve forgotten.”
“If he has forgotten, then maybe he isn’t that interested. We shouldn’t waste our time with someone who isn’t going to be committed to the project and, more importantly, the role.”
“I hear everything that you’re saying but I have a good feeling about this.” William immediately got on the phone and called T-Roc’s manager. As Tyler sat down on the leather couch listening to the conversation, she started having flashbacks to her tumultuous relationship with the quintessential male chauvinist. When Tyler had first come to New York, she had had the biggest crush on T-Roc. He was the King of New York and she had wanted to be his Queen, if just for the night. He charmed her right into his bed but Tyler soon realized that all that glitters is definitely not gold. Her love triangle with him and his superstar basketball player cousin Ian Addison sent her life into a tailspin. She vowed after that to never speak to T-Roc again. Now four years later he was back. When Tyler saw him the other night at William’s party she felt so uncomfortable. She could feel him undressing her with his bedroom eyes. Although he had a beautiful woman on his arm he still had to lust after her. One woman was never enough for T-Roc. The woman that got him to make her his wife, God bless her.
When William hung up the phone he immediately seemed rejuvenated by his conversation. “T-Roc is a go. His manager, Craig Silverman, is setting up the screen test for the day after tomorrow. Plus he informed me that he just got Andre Jackson as a client and he is eager to break into the movie business, too. He is going to speak to him about auditioning also.”
“Wow, this is good.”
“Fuck ‘good,’ this is great. These two guys are the biggest commodities outside of the Hollywood scene. This would be the perfect opportunity to introduce them to the movie industry.”
“Baby, we don’t know if they are good yet.”
“Well, my little princess, you better hope so because if neither one of them work, this movie could be prolonged indefinitely.”
Shari and Chantal were in the living room watching Access Hollywood when footage of Chantal and T-Roc walking hand and hand and then kissing as they came out of Mr. Chow’s splashed across the screen. The headline was, IS THIS SUPERSTAR T-ROC’S NEW LOVE INTEREST? They went on to show the couple coming out of White Lotus and then returning to Chantal’s hotel and T-Roc leaving early the next afternoon. The next clip was of them entering William Donovan’s house for the party they attended in Malibu. Correspondent Shaun Robinson went on to identify Chantal Morgan as part-time model and the mother of music mogul Andre Jackson’s young daughter. They even showed the picture of Chantal she had given her media pal of when she did the ad for T-Roc’s clothing line. The picture was from four years ago and they were trying to insinuate that the relationship had been going on since then. The whole episode was too juicy for words. They immediately cut to a recent picture of Andre and Chantal from the Halle Berry and Bruce Willis movie premiere and then wondered if she was Andre’s girl or T-Roc’s. It was all delicious.
Chantal glanced over at Shari, who just stared at the television speechless. She was so entranced by what Shaun Robinson was saying that it didn’t seem to dawn on her that they were talking about Chantal and she was sitting right in front of her face. Chantal’s cell and home phone instantly started ringing. She needed to gather her thoughts together and get her story straight before she spoke to anyone. Chantal’s media contact already gave her the heads-up that the explosive story was hitting, but Chantal never believed anything until she saw it for herself. Shaun Robinson ended her segment by saying that the inside story would be on this week’s front covers of both Us Weekly and In Touch. Shari was still glued to the TV and right when she was about to spill her thoughts, the name “T-Roc” came across Chantal’s cell. This was one call Chantal couldn’t avoid because she needed to stay on his good side for many reasons.
“Hello,” Chantal purred in an innocent yet frazzled voice. Before she could go any further with lying about how shocked and embarrassed she was for what she just heard on Access Hollywood, T-Roc cut her off.
“You sneaky little bitch. It all makes sense now.”
“What are you talking about?” Chantal gasped as though she was taken aback by his insult.
“Save the bullshit, Chantal. Actually I’m impressed. You must have gone through a lot of trouble and scheming to set this up. I hope it was worth it, because Andre is going to be one pissed motherfucker. I’m sure this whole charade was for his benefit, so whatever you’re after I hope you get it.” Before Chantal could explain herself with another lie, T-Roc hung up the phone. Shari was on her cell and as soon as she saw Chantal hang up she told whomever she was talking to she would call them back.
“Girl, what the fuck is going on? I knew you was scheming, but this is on some next level shit. How in the fuck did you pull this off?”
“Andre left me no
choice but to go hard. After T-Roc made my flight arrangements and I knew where we would be going while in LA, I called in my media contact and got shit popping.”
“You are the shit, Chantal. Only you and J-Lo can scheme up some mess like this. But girl I hope in your will you left me your jewelry collection because Andre is going to kill you.”
“Oh well, his ass fucked around first and second with that damn Arisa bitch. He deserves everything he gets and then some.”
“All that’s cool, but you knew that Andre was a dog before you had his baby and became his girl. If memory serves me correctly he was already taken when you moved in for the kill and locked him down with Melanie.”
“Sweetheart, don’t hate the player, hate the game. Yeah, I might have sealed the deal with Andre and broke up his little Hollywood romance by getting pregnant but many bitches have tried and failed before me and after me, you being one.”
“I have never fucked or tried to fuck Andre.”
“Darling, I’m not talking specifically about Andre. I’m talking about women in general who try to tie a man down by getting pregnant and having a baby. A lot of women fuck around and have a baby with a nigga who they think is a baller and he ain’t got shit, example you. You had a baby with some half-ass actor who probably hasn’t seen a residual check in two years. You just knew he was going to be the next Mekhi Phifer and tried to lock him down. Everybody doesn’t get it right, so don’t be mad at me because I did.”
“Ain’t nobody mad at you, Chantal. I’ll give you your props for landing Andre, but you’re not satisfied with that. Being his baby mother isn’t enough for you. You are determined to be his wife.”
“Damn right. Why in the hell should I settle? All the work I put in, if he is going to wife anybody it’s going to be me.”
“Well, if you pull off that you are truly the baddest reformed industry ho out here. You and I both know the deal and as the saying goes, ‘A man is not gonna wife a ho,’ reformed or otherwise. But then again, Chantal, you’re not the average bitch. You might be the exception to the rule.”
“That’s my plan.” With that, Chantal picked up the phone to deal with Andre.
All Chantal heard was screaming over the phone. She couldn’t decipher what was being said because Andre’s voice was so loud and he was talking so fast. Her heart was pounding because she did manage to catch words like “whore,” “slut,” “dick lover,” and did she let T-Roc fuck her in the ass. It was all to be expected. Chantal knew Andre and this was phase one of their argument, but phase two was going to be a little different this time. Instead of begging for his forgiveness, Chantal would simply tell Andre why she did what she did and that he was right, they shouldn’t be together. After he cursed her out for ten minutes straight, Chantal finally took a minute to interject as he was catching his breath.
In a calm voice Chantal said, “Andre, I know all about your recent ménage à trois with Arisa. Not only did you fuck her and some other chick, but you had the nerve to take them to a private party at 40/40 where you knew all of my friends would be. You then had the nerve to keep those tricks at our apartment for at least two days, all while you’re sending me a $25,000 watch as some bitch was probably sucking you off. To make matters worse I have to get bombarded with phone calls letting me know about you and your video hofessional. To say I was devastated would be an understatement.”
“So, what, you go to LA and fuck my enemy and have it splashed across all the networks and paper? That’s how you get back at me?”
“I wasn’t trying to get back at you. I just needed to get away and feel wanted by someone who cared about me.”
“Oh, so T-Roc cares about you? Bitch, please. You just another ho that he fucked.”
“Unfortunately for me we never had sex. He was too much of a gentleman for that. Unlike you, he doesn’t run up in everything that has a pulse. T-Roc prefers to wine and dine you and treat you like a lady before getting you in the bed.”
“Well, when I meet a lady that is what I’ll do,” Andre shot back.
“Well, that’s cool. Good luck.”
Just when Chantal was about to hang up the phone, she heard Andre blurt out, “I know you’re not checking for that nigga on some serious type shit?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? He’s the hottest nigga out.”
“Chantal, I swear on everything I love, if you fuck that nigga, start having your moms make funeral arrangements because you’re a dead bitch.”
“Andre, fuck you. I’m tired of this bullshit. All you do is fuck around with twenty million tricks and expect me to watch from the sidelines. You’re no type of father to Melanie and no type of boyfriend to me. Yeah, I know I’ve made mistakes in the past but I was trying to do the right thing and be a family. But you don’t want that—you rather run the street with this bitch and the third. Good for you but not for me. This relationship is over, Andre, and I wish you luck and happiness in life, but it’s time for me to do me. Thanks for the ride.” Chantal then hung up the phone and had the biggest grin on her face, as though she were the cat who just swallowed the canary.
Shari stood up and started applauding for her. “Like I said, you are that bitch. Chantal, that was brilliant. You’ve never played that hand with Andre before.” As Shari was talking, Chantal’s home phone kept ringing and the caller ID showed it was Andre. She didn’t bother to pick it up. It was time for Andre to suffer a little.
Chantal couldn’t help but express her true feelings to Shari that she so often kept to herself. “Nobody but God knows this and now you, but I’ve spent many nights crying my heart out over Andre. Yeah, everybody thinks I’m this cold, calculating gold digger, but I hurt like everybody else. It never gets any easier. Every time I catch Andre cheating it breaks my heart. All the diamonds in the world can’t heal that pain and it never will. But it was time for me to play hardball because at the end of the day, Andre is the only man I want to be with. I want him to be my husband and I want to be his wife.”
T-Roc didn’t appreciate Chantal using him as a pawn for whatever game she was playing with Andre, especially since he didn’t even have the opportunity to make love to the bronzed beauty. That wasn’t entirely her fault since he somewhat gave her the cold shoulder after making a long overdue reconnection with Tyler Blake. After all these years he still hadn’t gotten the delectable Tyler out of his system. She was the one woman he was unable to fully conquer. After their nasty breakup he wasn’t sure he would ever have the chance to redeem himself. Now with the movie Angel he finally believed this was the break he had been waiting for. Tyler seemed to be happy with William Donovan, but T-Roc figured he was much too old for a young, vibrant Hollywood starlet like Tyler. She needed a man like himself to share the spotlight with. T-Roc envisioned them being a dynamic pair that brought a hot new, sexy aura to the Golden City.
As T-Roc finished up his drink before his private jet landed in LA, he couldn’t help but feel anxious. Not only did he want the girl, but he also wanted the part as Damian. To triumph over both would be more than just another notch on his belt. This would be the start of a new chapter in his life.
After her blowup with Andre, Chantal was more than happy to escort Shari to a private party her boyfriend Chris was having at a swanky lounge. She hadn’t spoken to Andre in almost a week and was feeling quite neglected. She was hoping that maybe one of Chris’s Chicago Bear teammates could give her a little tender love and care until Andre got his act together.
“Shari, what street is this club on again?” Chantal asked, growing tired of circling the same block for the fifth time. Shari dug in her purse searching for the gold foil invite.
“The spot is called Reserve. It’s on 858 West Lake Street,” Shari said, starting to feel anxious herself and ready to get out of the car.
“What’s the cross street, because we’ve been driving up and down Lake for a minute now.”
Shari toyed with the invite, hoping that additional information was available. To her relief it
was. “The cross is Peoria Street,” she told Chantal.
When Chantal made a right and saw all the cars lined up waiting for valet parking they both let out an audible sigh.
“Girl, this shit looks like it’s hot. You see all these Benz, Beamers, and a couple of Maybachs. I might find me a cute little sidepiece up in here,” Chantal boasted.
“All right, hot mama, you already a little shaky with Andre, don’t cause a full fledge earthquake.” The heavenly pair stepped out of Chantal’s alpine white BMW 650i convertible and strutted into Reserve. When they entered the posh lounge there were two rows of candles reflecting off the gleaming custom glass red tiles behind the marble bar. The setting complimented Chantal’s radiant crimson Nicole Miller dress.
“Lead me to where they’re popping bottles,” Chantal said as her hips glided to Beyoncé's new track.
“Follow me. I see Chris and I know they popping bottles,” Shari said, guiding Chantal toward her boyfriend. Chantal immediately began sizing up the cloud of people that were in a roped-off section.
“I thought this was a private party?” Chantal asked.
“It is,” Shari stated, wondering what warranted Chantal’s question.
“Then why does he have this section roped off like he in a regular club and he need his own private VIP area?”
“Girl, that’s Chris for you. See all this out here,” Shari said, pointing to their surrounding area. “This is the VIP area. Behind that velvet rope is what Chris would call the ‘VVIP section.’ He’s a little extra with his.”
