Straight to the Heart

by Michelle Monkou

  Brenda frowned. “As long as it doesn’t conflict.”

  “With your plans, never,” Stacy finished.

  “Don’t be flip. I carry out your wishes.” Brenda pushed away from her desk. “Why must you be difficult?”

  “I’m really sorry. You know how much I hate to travel. And this schedule depresses me because I will be away from home and…”

  “And what? I know you’re not about to mention that man’s name. Now you can’t get rid of him.” Brenda shook her head. “I knew this would happen.”

  “I don’t want to get rid of him.” Stacy grabbed her coat and pocketbook. “I…like him.” She dared not say any other word that would reflect a stronger feeling. This morning when she’d opened her eyes and he was there, she’d tested the thought in her head that she was in love. The unique feeling of being satisfied brought happiness.

  “Have you met his family? Do you know how many girlfriends he’s had? Do you know if he really likes you beyond the celebrity status?” Brenda fired the questions, brushing aside any attempts at her response.

  Stacy headed for the door. Lately, she didn’t like the way her conversations with Brenda deteriorated. The two of them used to be productive and supportive, a family of sorts. Omar had certainly driven a wedge between them, a catalyst for change.

  “You know, Brenda, I’m not Valerie. I’m not rejecting you.” Stacy paused to see if Brenda had heard her. Her manager’s back was to her. Brenda’s shoulders were stiff, with one hand cupping the side of her face.

  Stacy opened the door and exited. She could never replace Valerie and had no intention of trying. But Brenda’s attitude toward her grew increasingly constrictive. Stacy worried that maybe Brenda needed to talk to a professional to deal with her daughter’s absence.

  With a few hours to go before her appointment, she chose to go to one of her favorite hangouts to wait and eat until she had to go to the studio. On the way to the restaurant, she passed a small post office. She pulled out an envelope, hesitating for a brief second. Things had a way of spiraling out of control. But she’d started on a course and would have to deal with the consequences. If her plan didn’t go the way she wanted, then how would she repair the damage? She dropped the letter in the domestic mail slot hoping that a resolution would come soon.

  Stacy dined alone, a habit all too familiar. She opted for wonton soup and a chicken lo mein dish. When the mound of food arrived, she knew that there was no way she could eat the enormous serving.

  She dialed Omar to tease him about her lunch. All she could do was exaggerate some details on the voice mail. A glance around the restaurant made her feel out of place. From the youngest to the oldest diner, they all had a dining partner. Normally she didn’t mind eating alone. Since meeting Omar, she wanted to spend as much quality time as possible with him.

  Her cell phone rang, disturbing the diners nearby. Stacy offered an apologetic smile and pushed the talk button. She’d risk dirty looks from strangers to talk to Omar.

  “Got your message that you’re heading out of town. That sucks that I won’t see you this evening.”

  “This is how my life is when potential work is coming my way. Now that I’m focusing on more projects in the film world, I have to get in line with all the other starving actors.”

  “Well, if you need a character reference, I’m here for you,” Omar teased.

  “How was work today?”

  “I think this is a conversation best had in person. Big stuff,” Omar replied.

  Stacy caught the immediate change in his voice. She set down her fork, giving him her full attention. “I can’t go off to New York without knowing what happened.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got a small window of time after the audition before I have to head to the airport.”

  “I’m going back to the office right now. I may have time to take you to the airport,” he said mysteriously.

  “That would work. I’d like that,” she encouraged. Whatever bombshell he was going to deliver couldn’t wait. Besides, if he needed her help, she’d be happy to do whatever he needed. She provided him with the information for the flight. He arranged to pick her up from her condo.

  Stacy finished her call, whispering seductive niceties to Omar. By the time she paid her bill, she had a wide smile on her face. Omar’s threat of giving her a farewell quickie stirred her desire with prickly anticipation. She could only hope that the production team made a speedy decision, one way or the other, so that she could look forward to sharing precious time with Omar.

  Stacy arrived at her appointment and walked through rows of hopeful actors to get to the woman signing everyone in. Stacy introduced herself, hoping that she had enough clout to get herself through the line quickly. If she didn’t make it to New York tonight, she’d have to hop a plane early in the morning. Just what she needed, to have to face another audition after limited sleep and a harried flight.

  “Miss Watts, glad you could make it. Follow me.”

  Surprised, Stacy hastened her steps to keep up with the petite woman scurrying through a series of rooms.

  “Miss Watts, come on in.” An older man beckoned to her.

  Despite his age, his attire was trendy and fashionable. Like many celebrities he wore a pair of dark designer shades, although they were indoors. He embodied the role of man-in-charge and was wearing the most gaudy gold-and-diamond pinky ring.

  “I’m Reynaldo Portee.” He waved a hand and flashed a superwhite smile. “Everybody calls me Reynaldo.”

  He had an affected European accent and rolled his Rs, but she couldn’t pinpoint a specific country.

  There were several other people in the room, busy at work in the background. Stacy didn’t see any of the usual equipment. Was this a real audition? Or was she about to be caught up in a low-budget project that would harm her image?

  “Have a seat, please.” Stacy complied, sitting at a long table with the other people.

  “There are specific voices that I want for this movie. Then we’ll fly folks out to L.A. for work in the studios,” Reynaldo explained. “Everyone, please introduce yourself to Stacy.”

  Stacy nodded to each person as they shared their names. She accepted a packet of material from a young man sitting next to her. “It’s a sample of the script,” he said.

  “This is a story about an urban cat who breaks out of her gang and hides out in the suburbs. Then the leader of the gang gets help from the other gangs to come after her.”

  Stacy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was this man for real? More importantly, what part of this project made Brenda think that this was a winning opportunity? “Let me guess, I’m supposed to be the urban cat?”

  “No. We want you to be the leader of the skunk gang. You’re fierce, arrogant but a little smelly.” The others around the table chuckled.

  “Let’s try the lines,” Reynaldo suggested.

  Stacy waited for her turn to go into the other room for the audition. She wished she could hear their performances for tips on how she should perform. When it was her turn, she stepped into the room. Auditions made her stomach churn. She cleared her throat. “Yo, Renata, I’m going to have to go skunk-crazy and bash your head in.”

  “Whoa, stop.” Reynaldo held up his hand. “Stacy, let’s try that again. But I’ve got a few minor suggestions. I need you to use your inner city attitude. When you say, ‘I’m gonna have to go skunk-crazy,’ drag out that crazy with hand movements and eye-popping ’tude. I want to see your neck do that wiggle thing. Your expressions will give the artists ideas of how to draw the skunk.”

  Disbelief had Stacy rooted to the spot. Reynaldo’s impression of inner-city life floored her. She already had a bad feeling about the project. When he decided to act it out, she knew that her decision had been correct. This was not for her. She refused to sell her name, voice or reputation to playing a ’hood skunk.

  “Reynaldo, I think we need to talk…privately.” Stacy put down the script, giving him a heads-up as to the
nature of their discussion.

  “Looks like we may have a difficult diva,” Reynaldo joked with the others.

  Stacy waited for him to give her his undivided attention. Something about his demeanor struck a nerve. Holding her temper in check could be an impossible feat.

  “What’s the problem, Watts?” Reynaldo pinned her with a stare that held no warmth.

  “I have a problem with…um…perpetuating stereotypes.” Stacy took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Kids will be watching this. Whether I like this or not, I’m some of these kids’ role model. With all the power that you have, don’t you feel it your duty to—”

  “Don’t take it upon yourself to lecture me!” Reynaldo turned a deep tomato-red. “I’m doing a favor to Brenda and frankly, from what I’ve seen, I can go find another person hungry for this opportunity. You won’t last long in this business, so I suggest that you wake up and eat the crumbs that are thrown your way.”

  Conversation at the table ceased as his voice grew in volume. Stacy’s ears burned from a good dose of embarrassment and a mega dollop of rage. She wanted to tell this man where to jump. Her heart beat painfully against her chest as she struggled to control her temper. How long would she have to put up with disrespect and ridicule?

  Without addressing Reynaldo’s latest comment, she walked over to the table and picked up her pocketbook, being careful to push aside the script. She wanted no reminder from this day, although the experience had made a permanent mark in her memory.

  She walked out of the room without addressing anyone. She hadn’t made it to the elevator before her cell phone rang. “Yes, Brenda.”

  “What in the world has gotten into you? You seem to be on a one-way path to killing your career. I thought we had talked through all your angst. But now you’ve embarrassed me. Do you know what it took for me to get you this audition? Did you ever think about anyone else beyond you? You’re successful, but still vulnerable. This business is subjective, and you know this.”

  Stacy walked into the elevator cab, hoping that the cell phone power would die. It didn’t. As she made it down to the lobby, Brenda’s fury poured through the tiny device. The doors slid open and Stacy realized that Brenda had stopped talking. “Hello?”

  A wheezing gasp was the only reply.

  “Brenda?”

  “Call 911.” Brenda’s voice faded.

  Chapter 10

  Stacy immediately hung up and called the number for emergencies and then called Brenda’s secretary. Then she hopped in a cab and headed for Brenda’s office, hoping that she’d beat the ambulance there.

  Stacy tried to think of all the things she needed to do, but it was impossible. Brenda had looked fine. But if something was wrong, Brenda wasn’t the type to share. Her manager aced at playing the mother, but didn’t allow anyone else to switch to that role.

  The taxi couldn’t move fast enough. The traffic appeared to go against everything she wanted. Stacy debated getting out and running the three remaining blocks down the road, anything to get to Brenda.

  As if in answer to her prayer, the traffic started flowing. Traffic lights turned green. She didn’t even mind the whopper taxicab fee when the driver finally pulled up to the building. She provided payment with a fat tip and hurried to Brenda.

  Stacy headed into the office. Brenda was on the floor. Brenda’s secretary knelt at her boss’s side, stroking her hand. Tears rolled down her face as she begged Brenda to respond.

  “Have the paramedics arrived?” she asked the woman.

  She shook her head. “But I’ve been with her. She’s regained consciousness, and she’s trying to talk, but nothing is coming out.”

  “It’s okay, I’m here now. Keep an eye out for the paramedics.” Stacy waited for the secretary to leave before sinking to her knees beside Brenda. “I’m so sorry,” she began. She could feel the emotion building as her throat choked. “You’ve got to get better to kick my butt.” She squeezed Brenda’s hand, waiting for an answer. There wasn’t any. Brenda’s eyes never shifted toward her. Their vacant stare scared Stacy.

  The paramedics rushed in, and she stepped aside to give them full access.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Stacy asked, full of impatience.

  “Who found her?” a paramedic asked, as he took her vitals.

  “I was on the phone with her, and then she stopped talking.” Stacy explained further details about the call.

  The paramedic then turned to the secretary who stood in the doorway. “Was she unconscious when you saw her?”

  “Yes. I thought she wasn’t breathing at first. I don’t know how to do CPR. I kept hitting her chest, but I didn’t know what to do. Then she took a deep breath and opened her eyes.” The secretary sobbed. “I thought that she was okay, but then she wasn’t blinking or looking at me.”

  “Her pulse is low. Her heart is beating irregularly. We’re heading to St. Joseph’s.”

  “I’ll meet you there.” Stacy steered the secretary to the front desk. “I’ll need you to go through Brenda’s schedule and cancel her appointments. Just say that she had to attend to an urgent matter. Oh, and please cancel my appointments, too.” Stacy gave the secretary her information. There was no way that after the tumultuous day and Brenda’s condition, she was going anywhere.

  Stacy didn’t like going to hospitals. Unlike most people who might have suffered some traumatic experience, she hadn’t. Instead the smell of disinfectants mixed with people’s illness and scents reminded her of a couple of shelters she’d called home.

  “Miss Watts?” A woman in a white doctor’s gown approached her.

  Stacy didn’t like the closed expression.

  “I’m Dr. Watkins. Brenda is a relative? Your mother?”

  “No. There isn’t anyone.” The words sounded strange to Stacy’s ears.

  “Brenda has had a mild heart attack. She has been unresponsive mainly out of shock. I can tell that she’s not the type of person who accepts being ill.”

  Stacy nodded, glad to hear that the news wasn’t altogether dire.

  “We can perform angioplasty. She’s hesitant, though—”

  “I’ll talk to her,” Stacy interrupted.

  “You may go see her. By the way, what are you to Brenda?”

  “A friend,” Stacy said simply, although at this moment, she wished that she could say daughter.

  Her heels clicked along the linoleum floor past partially opened doors. Although she was in a section of the ward for very ill patients, there was a flurry of activity and a noise level that defied morose silence.

  “She’s in a private room. She said that she was leaving if she had to share with anyone,” the doctor whispered.

  “That sounds like her.”

  “I hope that she continues to be a fighter because she will need it for the next few months.”

  Stacy didn’t need further explanation. Brenda was lucky to be given a second chance. As guilty as she felt with being the cause of Brenda’s collapse, she was grateful that she had been on the phone with her. The alternative was frightening.

  The doctor stopped in front of a room. “I’ll let you visit. I’ll stop by in a bit. Good luck.” She shook Stacy’s hand and turned away, already focused on another case.

  Stacy took a deep breath and walked in. She pasted on what she hoped was a bright smile and greeted Brenda with sickening good cheer.

  “Oh, stop it. You’re not talking to a baby.” Brenda glared at her.

  “Well, that depends, doesn’t it?” Stacy pointedly looked at the beeping machines, the IV dripping into her vein, the oxygen tube under her nose.

  “I was simply tired. Needed a break. You and all my high-maintenance clients have worn me out.”

  Stacy took the only seat in the room. She didn’t know how to convince this stubborn woman to take the extra help. “Do you want me to try and find your daughter?”

  “Why do you ask?” Brenda looked shocked.

  “Thinking about someone who may swa
y you to have the surgery.”

  “Why would someone I haven’t seen in years, who pushed me away as a mother, be able to say anything about my life?” Brenda closed her eyes, then reopened them. “You are as close to a daughter as I will ever have.”

  Stacy was touched. Tears burned at her eyes.

  “Oh, stop blubbering over there. I’m not dying.”

  “Maybe not right now, but if you don’t take care of yourself, you could have a more severe heart attack. Your heart is like a ticking time bomb.”

  “Okay, Miss Mary Sunshine, you can tone it down.”

  “Brenda, please have the procedure done. It’s a simple thing. Technology is so far advanced now, you can’t simply brush this aside.”

  “Since when have you become the doctor? Simple,” Brenda huffed. “What do you know?”

  “She knows what I told her.” The doctor entered the room. Again, no smile was in evidence. Maybe she got her patients to obey her orders because of the no-nonsense attitude that oozed from her.

  “Should I call the wrestling federation and sign you up as the new tag-team sensation?”

  “Have you made a decision?” the doctor asked.

  “You’re not opening me up,” Brenda said emphatically.

  Stacy’s phone rang, causing her to hold back a response to Brenda’s hardheadedness. She turned into the corner of the room to hide the fact that she was using her cell phone in a hospital. “Hello?” She’d missed looking at the telephone number to identify her caller.

  “Hey, babe, where are you?”

  Stacy held her other ear to block out the noise. There was so much background noise, listening proved difficult. “Where are you?”

  “The airport. I thought I’d surprise you. Tried you at home, but since you weren’t there, I figured you’d headed to the airport. Have you gone through security?”

  “Oh, Omar, gosh, I feel like a heel. There was an emergency. Brenda had a—”

  “Don’t you tell that boy my business. You’re acting as if I’m not in the room.” Brenda wheezed between her words.

  “Calm down, Brenda.” Stacy tried to quiet her. The doctor assisted by talking about the procedure that she wanted to do the next day.