Boss Lady (3 page)

Jason said, “Sasha Kim, right?”

She nodded to him and was pleased that he remembered her name. And of course he did. Jason was a smart kid like I was, an Engineering & Science graduate. But she didn't know that.

She said, “Jason . . .”

“Ellison,” he filled in for her.

She dropped her head a second and said, “Thanks, but I was gonna remember it.”

Jason said, “I don't think I told you my last name.”

She said, “You told me now.”

I smiled. It was a good answer on her part. Otherwise, she would have looked silly. So I gave her a few cool points.

Anyway, they traded contact information and all that, right down to email addresses. No kidding. Jason asked the girl for her email address.

I asked him, “What made you ask for her email address?”

Jason looked at me and said, “You don't know? She's Asian. They probably got like five computers in their house. But if she was black, I would have asked her what her favorite television show is.”

“Oh my God,” I told him. “So black girls watch too much television? Is that it?”

Jason answered, “Yup.”

I couldn't help but smile at it. The boy was crazy.

I asked him, “And what if she was white or Hispanic?”

“Then I would ask them what they think about Britney Spears or Jennifer Lopez,” he answered. “Oh, my game is tight out here, cousin. Don't sleep. I'm pullin' out my A-game for these California girls. I'm just serving them notice. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna be out here long. So I'm going for broke, ya' heard.”

“And what if you end up out here for longer than you think?”

“What do you mean? Like if I stayed out here?”

I know I planned on staying longer.

“Yeah. Then what?” I asked him.

He answered, “Well, like she said, it's whatever then.”

*  *  *

We met up with Tracy's agent, Susan Raskin, at the baggage claim. She was a small, dark-haired white girl holding up a sign with “Jason & Vanessa” printed in large letters. We walked over in her direction.

She noticed us and said, “Hey, how are you guys doing? How was the flight?”

Jason grinned at me and said, “My little cousin thought she wasn't gonna make it.”

I smirked. “Yeah, he kept talking about the plane going down,” I told her.

“Oh no, that's the worst,” Susan said.

Jason spotted our luggage and immediately went to grab it. I tried to help him with it, but he kindly asked me to step aside.

“I got this.”

So I backed up and allowed him to be the man.

“So, what's the plan?” he asked Susan once he gathered our luggage.

She said, “Well, first I'll take you back to the house to drop off your things. Then we can get a bite to eat if you'd like. I know the airplane food is not always the best. And after that, I'll take you to the set to see if you can talk to Tracy while she takes a break between scenes.”

Jason said, “I know she didn't tell you that I gave her a lot of the ideas for this movie, did she?”

Susan smiled while we followed her through the airport terminal toward the parking lots.

“As a matter of fact, she did,” she answered him.

Jason looked surprised. “Get out of here. My sister actually gave me my props?”

“She sure did. And plenty of them.”

Jason smiled wide and said, “Well, I deserve some of the writing credit and a piece of the pie then.”

I grinned and shook my head again. That boy just didn't quit. It was like he had no conscience about his joking.

“Sounds like you need the right agent,” Susan joked back to him.

“Oh, I'm serious, too,” he told her. “I got a lot of ideas.”

We found Susan's black BMW in the parking lot and loaded her empty trunk with our things.

Jason rudely jumped into the front seat of the Beamer ahead of me, but I didn't mind. I liked watching things from a backseat view anyway. From the backseat you were not usually forced to talk as much. I wanted to check out my surroundings and talk later. And that's what I did.

*  *  *

We arrived at my cousin Tracy's house, which was up on a hill in an area called Marina Del Rey that overlooked a nearby shopping center.

Jason climbed out of the car and commented on the scenery.

“Man, I feel like the big dog up here. This hill makes you feel like you're special.”

Susan grinned at him. But I had to agree with Jason for a change. Overlooking the landscape and the general population of Los Angeles did make you feel important. It was like we were sitting up on a mountaintop.

“Yeah, that's a major selling point for this area,” Susan told us.

Jason said, “I bet it is.”

Susan took out a key and led us to the double wooden doors that opened Tracy's half-empty, high-ceiling, three-bedroom home.

Jason walked in and hollered, “HEY, Hey, hey!” like an echo.

Susan started laughing. “That's exactly what Tracy did when she first moved in.”

I walked in silently and looked around. I was simply glad to be there. I only saw houses like hers on TV and in the movies. I mean, I knew they existed, I just hadn't been in one.

“You ever been in a crib like this?” Jason asked me on cue.

“Only in my dreams,” I answered him.

“Well, you're not dreaming anymore, cousin. Wake up and smell the money,” he told me.

Susan said, “Tracy told me to show you guys around and to your rooms.”

To our rooms? I loved even the sound of that. It reminded me of the minor trips I had taken with my family down South to amusement parks and such, where we would stay in low-budget hotel rooms. But those hotels had nothing on the tall flight of stairs that Susan began to lead us up. Tracy's second floor must have been thirty feet high, or at least it seemed that high to me. It was very impressive. I liked it a whole lot.

“Tracy told me that Vanessa gets the guest room, and Jason, you can have either the computer room or downstairs on the foldout sofa in the living room,” Susan told us with a grin.

Jason took one look inside the small computer room that had a
computer station, file cabinets, a black leather office chair, and a futon that was pressed up against the wall, and he headed straight back down the stairs.

“Aw'ight,” he mumbled to us on his way down.

The living room area had a deep, dark brown, leather sofa with a giant-sized, floor-model color television set that sat directly in front of it. The guest room, where I was to stay, had no TV at all. But I wasn't concerned about a lack of a television in my room. The peace and quiet there was a real godsend. I rarely had any peace and quiet in my house in North Philly. My two younger sisters were constantly getting into something, so I had learned to tune out the extra noise around me.

I stretched out on the burgundy comforter on the queen-sized bed in the guest room and was content with that. I didn't even feel like getting back up to go meet with Tracy on the movie set. I didn't even have to eat, really. I was already full with satisfaction.

Susan stuck her head into the room and said, “All right, well, we better get a move on if we want to get something to eat and still meet up with Tracy on the set. She has a pretty tight schedule to keep.”

I understood my cousin's tight schedule and everything, but we had just gotten off a six-hour flight from Philly, and my body was beat. I hadn't gotten a chance to sleep much that week, while anticipating the trip. And once I felt the comfort of Tracy's guest room, my mind and body were ready to shut down for the night.

“How far is the set from here?” I asked Susan. I was stalling. I didn't want to leave.

She took a look at me relaxing on the bed and read my mind.

“You're experiencing jet lag, hunh?”

“Who?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Never mind. I'll just tell Tracy that you guys are a little worn out from the plane ride today. I kind of figured you would be.”

“Yeah, I need a relaxation break for a minute,” I told her.

It was only four o'clock in L.A., but it was seven o'clock for Jason and me. And my body felt as if it was ten o'clock already. I guess that's what Susan meant by jet lag. I wouldn't know. Not only had I never flown on an airplane before, I had never traveled out of my time zone. The South had the same time zone as Philly, only it was much hotter.

Susan nodded her head and made a call on her cell phone. That was the last thing I remember before I crashed.

When I woke up, Jason was standing in the doorway laughing at me with a slice of pizza to his mouth.

“Guess what time it is?” he asked me.

“What?”

“Eight o'clock.”

I grimaced and said, “God. I've been asleep for four hours.”

Jason shook his head and answered, “It seems like two days in one to me. And that just means it's more time for me to get into things.”

I smiled in my cousin's direction and closed my eyes again. He was still on track to do what he planned to do.

*  *  *

We met with Tracy on the set of her new movie the next day. She was all made up in her gear as the character “Alexis,” wearing dark lace, black leather, and plenty of makeup. There she was, my cousin, the nationally known book writer, screenwriter, and actress. I was so proud!

Jason and I were chilling in the trailer with her before her next action scene, just eating it all up. Susan had left us there alone while she handled her business.

“You really need to wear all that makeup?” Jason asked his sister. I was thinking the same thing, but I wasn't going to ask. I was content with just being around her and on an actual movie set.

Tracy answered, “It's for the hot lights of the camera. You don't understand.”

“So, I would have to wear that much makeup, too?” he asked her.

“Why, you want a scene in this movie, Jason?” she asked him back.

“I'm just asking.”

Tracy told him, “Well, before you start criticizing something you know nothing about, understand that everything has a purpose here. I'm not just wearing this makeup for the hell of it. Okay?”

She was all business.

Jason was silenced for a hot second before he responded, “Whatever.”

I guess he felt that he had to say something. His big sister knew exactly how to handle him. I sat back and took mental notes for myself.

“So, how are you doing, Vanessa?” she asked me.

“Oh, I'm fine.” I didn't have much to say. I just wanted to take everything in. It was all a daydream for me. I still couldn't believe I was there.

Tracy studied me for a second and asked me, “Have you called your mother yet?”

I wasn't sure how to answer that. I hadn't looked forward to talking to my mother about my trip to California. I figured it would have been rubbing it in her face, because she was so dead-set on me not going. I didn't even feel comfortable with calling my sisters about it. I'm sure they would have felt left out. Nevertheless, Tracy had a point, they were still my family.

“I'll be calling them soon,” I told her.

She watched for my reaction and nodded. She was really studying me. I guess she was still trying to figure me out.

“So what are your plans?” she asked me next.

“My plans?”

“For the summer? For your life? For school?”

She was dead on me.

I stumbled and said, “I . . . I mean . . .”

“Well, you need to think about it,” she told me. “And Jason, when we get this car for you, for while you're out here with Vanessa, I want you to act like you got some damn sense. Because you just can't act any way you want to out here. L.A. has a different way of doing things, and you can find your smart ass in hot water before you know what hit you.”

Jason began to smirk. His sister was putting us both in check. But it was her right to do so as our guardian for while we were out there in her care. I couldn't blame her. She had to let us know who was the boss, I guess. And we got the point. Quickly!

However, once Jason and I were out on our own in L.A., my cousin went right back to his plans of becoming a summer gigolo from back East, while hollering at as many California girls as he could. He was making crazy U-turns inside the Lexus they had rented for him and everything.

“What are you doing?” I asked him from the passenger seat. I could see my life passing in front of me as cars peeled out in our direction.

“I got this, girl, stop sweatin' me.”

“No, you need to stop sweating them,” I responded, referring to all the girls he insisted on talking to. I just didn't understand guys on that level. How many girls could you actually concentrate on at one time and keep your focus with anything? It just seemed to me that the more girls he talked to, the less he would get out of them. Unless he was just looking for whichever one would give him sex the fastest.