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Authors: Janine A. Morris

BOOK: Drama 99 FM
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“Why my song had to be shit, and why you cut it so short?”
“We are not putting a record of yours in rotation with you sitting right here—it's as simple as that,” Madison said. “And had Jocelyn announced the record like she was supposed to, I would've told her that then,” she added, looking at Jocelyn. “I don't know what she was thinking.”
Jocelyn's embarrassment was obvious, and even Polytics felt bad for her.
“I won't vote,” he said jokingly.
“We are not voting on a record of yours with you sitting here. If people want to impress you, this is not the time,” Madison snapped.
“Oh, is that what it is? You just want me all to yourself?” he asked.
Keith's eyes damn near popped out of his head when he heard Polytics's comment. Alexis looked at Madison to see her reaction. It was like a tennis match—everyone was looking back and forth at the two of them, watching the offense and defense.
“Could you guys please excuse us?” Madison quietly and calmly asked as she looked around the room at her staff.
Alexis, Keith, the intern, and Jocelyn began to gather their things and exit the room. Every last one of them wished they could stay so they could see the fireworks about to take place. Keith closed the door behind them.
“You have a lot of nerve getting an attitude with Jocelyn for being nice to me when you don't want anything to do with me,” Polytics said right away.
“Is this some type of joke to you? Do you not understand what you're dealing with right now?”
“Is that a threat?” he asked.
“No, it is a serious question.”
“I know you're acting real funny,” he replied.
“Clarence, you can't mix what happened between us with business like this.”
“Stop calling me Clarence, if we keeping this business.”
Madison was sitting in her chair, and Polytics was sitting on the blue leather couch by her desk. He had one arm on the back of the couch, and his legs were spread wide open—his position expressed just how comfortable and cocky he was. As though none of this meant a big deal to him, like he had not a care in the world.
“Polytics, I can't take back what happened between us, but I regret it ever happened, and I am asking you to leave it in the past.”
“Wow, you regret it ever happened?” Polytics said as he stood up.
He walked over to where Madison was sitting; she kept her eyes on him the entire time. He stood behind her, and as she tried to turn around to see why he was behind her, be bent over and began kissing her neck. Madison backed away some.
“Polytics?” she said as she put her hand between him and her.
He pushed the back of her chair to swivel her around so she was facing him.
“You are going to lie to me and tell me you didn't enjoy it,” he said as he knelt down.
He placed his hand on her shirt and began caressing her breast. Madison's hormones began to whisper little voices. The danger of it all seemed to provoke her even more, but she knew now was not the time.
“Polytics—no!” she said as she pushed his hand away. “What happened was great, but it will be a regret if you are going to hold it over my head forever.”
“I am not holding it over your head, I just want to continue getting to know you.”
“What you just said in front of my staff was totally unacceptable.”
“I am sorry,” he said.
“I don't think you are; I think you are trying to control me with the fear that you may tell.”
“I wouldn't do that. Let's just say I can't stop thinking about you, so I didn't approve of you ending it the other day,” he said as he moved closer to her.
“Clarence, this is my career. You
can't
play like this. As much of a fantasy as this all may be, I'm not a risky artist, I am a professional businesswoman. I can't take chances like that.”
She moved her chair back a few inches.
“You were a risky businesswoman the other day,” he said.
“I know this, Clarence, but I didn't expect you to act so childish about it.”
She could tell he didn't like that from the look on his face. He looked her dead in the eyes, and his tough-guy exterior elevated.
“Ain't no child up in here—you better get that straight,” he said.
Madison could tell by his eyes that she was being introduced to the serious side of him, a side she had rarely ever seen from an artist in all her years. Artists feared her, worshipped her in the hopes that she would support their careers and make them famous. Artists didn't yell at her and threaten her. She was in shock.
“Listen, this is getting too far. Let's just discuss this after hours. My staff is outside waiting to finish this meeting.”
Madison tried to stand up, but Polytics stood in her way.
“I am a grown-ass man—there are no little boys in this room. I was feeling you, and I acted on it, simple as that. What happened happened—shit was good. But that doesn't mean my career is going to be affected by it. You play records, and you aren't going to overlook mine because we fucked.”
She could feel his breath as he enunciated his words. He was standing only a few inches away from her with both his feet planted wide apart. She had to admit she was a bit frightened, but Madison wasn't one to back down to anyone.
“Excuse me,” she said as she pushed past him.
She walked over to the door and opened it.
“You can go now. I need to finish my meeting with my staff,” she said as she held the door open.
Polytics could see Alexis glancing in the office from her desk, trying to get a peek. He stood there for a couple seconds, and then he began to walk out. Madison kept her eyes locked on him the entire time so he could get the message that she wasn't easily intimidated. As he walked by her, he stared her down until she was out of sight. Once he walked out, she summoned Alexis to come on in.
“Let's go, guys, back to business,” she said loud enough for Jocelyn to hear it in her office, Keith in his cubicle, and Polytics walking down the hall.
Madison wouldn't let her staff think she'd gotten punked. Respect was a big deal in this business, and without it, one's demise could approach very quickly. She had worked too hard to rise to let this new artist, getting his first glimpse of the spotlight, ruin that. She knew this ordeal wasn't over, but at this very moment she knew she wasn't adding any of Polytics's records this week and possibly not for a while.
Chapter 25
“I
slept with him,” Naomi said into the phone.
“What?!”
Devora shouted.
Naomi ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head—she had done this at least four times already. She closed her eyes and put her face in her hand and just watched the dark. “I know, I don't even know how I feel about it.”
“Wait, pause. Rewind. What the hell happened?”
Naomi stripped off her leggings. “I don't know, it all happened so fast.”
“You have had your makeover for less than a week, and already you are a totally different person?”
“I know, don't make me feel worse,” Naomi replied as she placed the leggings she had just removed on a pile of clothes in the chair.
“Did you forget you had a boyfriend back home?”
“Did you forget I just asked for you not to make me feel worse?”
“What happened, Naomi?” Devora asked, clearly curious about the details.
It was Saturday morning, and Naomi was sitting on the chair in her living room. She had just gotten home less than twenty minutes ago—and hadn't been home since the day before when she had left for work. Usually she liked to unwind before hopping on the phone, but today she needed to talk to someone.
“Well, last night was Weezy's party to celebrate his album going platinum, and I went with my coworker. When I got there, Tyreek wasn't there—he showed up, like, an hour and a half later with Weezy. . . .”
“Why didn't you invite me?” Devora interrupted. “You owe me for my makeover skills.”
“My bad—I had no intention to go until my coworker begged me to go with her.”
“You know you was going so you could sniff out compliments on your new look.”
Naomi glanced across the room into the mirror. She still had remains of last night's makeup on her face. Her hair was still pretty intact—at least, the finger-combed parts. “Really, I mean it. I wanted to just go home and relax.”
“Yeah, yeah. So go ahead.”
“So when Tyreek got there, he was at the table for a while. I almost forgot about him by the time I saw him by the bar later. We started talking, and he invited me to the afterparty at Weezy's suite at the Gansevoort.”
“Uh-oh,” Devora said, like she was watching a scary movie and the dumb blond girl had just walked into the dark, abandoned house.
“I know, uh-oh is right,” Naomi said. “I thought about not going and sneaking out early, but it was less than thirty minutes later that he came and tapped me to leave.”
Naomi made her way to her bed. Her chest rose for a millisecond before it went back down again; she was breathing short breaths, and she could almost hear her heartbeat. She was feeling so much anxiety from all her thoughts and fears. It was the same way she had felt when she was sitting in Tyreek's hotel room, and yet she was still shaky hours later.
“Oh, he was focused. That new haircut must have really worked,” Devora joked.
“Yeah, and I was wearing those liquid leggings we got and a short sweater.”
“With what shoes?”
“The peep-toe ankle boots.”
“Ah, shit! Let me find out you were in there killing 'em,” Devora said.
“Anyways . . . so my coworker wanted to leave, too, so we all walked out. Tyreek said I could ride downtown with him. I felt so uncomfortable the whole ride, and I was thankful there were a couple of other people in the car.”
“Enough—get to it. How did you end up playing ‘ride 'em cowboy'?”
“At some point during all the noise, drinking, and partying at the suite, Tyreek came up to me and asked me if I would mind walking with him to his room down the hall.”
“Uh-oh,” Devora said again.
Naomi couldn't even laugh this time because in retrospect she knew she should have known better. She threw her body on her bed and lay flat on her back as she looked at the chipped paint on her ceiling. What bothered her was she had subconsciously decided to put her morals aside and dance with the devil, despite the fact that her man back home had called her twice while she was at the party, and she had told herself she would call him when she got home in a quiet environment. At that time she hadn't imagined she wouldn't make it home until the next morning.
“When we got to the room, he was sifting through a bag for a while, and we started talking. The conversation led to more conversation, and then that conversation led to us making out, and then the making out led to . . . ya know.”
“Wow! Well, was it good?”
“It was . . . good, I guess. I was so nervous I was hardly into it.”
“Well, that's normal.”
“I was a little tipsy, so it helped, but I was so nervous.”
“So what made you do it? That must have been some great conversation.”
Naomi laughed a bit. “I don't know what made me do it. He just made me feel so sexy.”
“Well, that's a good enough reason, I guess.”
“I guess,” Naomi said.
Naomi lay on her bed, reflecting on all the things that had taken place in the past week and everything that was to come. She was dressed only in her sweater and underwear, and she had no intent of getting changed any time soon. Naomi was realizing that the worst part about the whole thing was that she didn't feel overwhelmingly ashamed—she only felt a little guilty. There was no denial; even she had to admit to herself that that was a problem. It was as though she was becoming heartless.
Chapter 26
“I
t is nothing like I expected,” Sereeta said to Reyna.
“What do you mean?” Reyna replied, not looking up from the magazine. Reyna and Sereeta were at the nail salon on Twenty-Seventh Street getting pedicures. They had decided to spend some time together doing something they had both planned on doing anyway this Saturday afternoon.
“At times it's like men's balls are just everywhere, and no one seems to care that I'm standing right there. They talk so candidly and get undressed and do whatever. In the beginning, I didn't know what to do.”
“Getting undressed?” Reyna asked.
“Yeah, whenever I'm in the locker room getting something for Corey, they'll just continue to change clothes, like I'm not there.”
“Maybe you weren't supposed to be there,” Reyna said.
“I would only go when Corey sent me in there or he was in there and asked me to come.”
“Well, how about you let him know you don't feel comfortable going into the locker room when other players are in there?”
“Yeah, I probably will. I just didn't want to start complaining so early on. I'm not trying to lose this job.”
“Yeah, true. Well, if you don't think it's that bad, I guess you can handle it.”
“Yeah, I can handle it of course. It just wasn't what I expected.”
“Well, look at the bright side—the job will keep you on your toes.”
“Yeah, that's true.”
Reyna glanced back at her magazine—right before a beige-skinned middle-aged man approached them holding a few pairs of socks in his hand.
“Socks for one dollar,” he said.
“No, thanks,” Sereeta said before he could say anything else.
“I'll take two pairs,” Reyna said as she reached in her purse for some singles. Once she found the money, she picked out two cute multicolored pairs of socks from his bag. When she was done and had paid for them, the gentleman walked away. For a few moments neither of them said anything to each other. Sereeta watched the lady working on her toes to see if she was doing a good job, and Reyna looked through the magazine.
“But you know who is so cute?” Sereeta said out of nowhere. “Brian James. He plays center.”
“Since when you know all this basketball stuff?” Reyna asked.
“I'm learning and asking my guy friends questions as I go. I figure I don't want to be working among them and not know diddly.”
Reyna just laughed.
“But if you pay attention to any sports at all, you will see him at some point. He's real tall and brown skinned. He is fine, though.”
“Listen to you—focus, missy.”
“I
am
focused. I'm just saying,” Sereeta said and sat back in her chair.
“If you say so,” Reyna said.
“He's single with no kids,” Sereeta said quickly before the topic changed.
“How you know all that?” Reyna asked with a chuckle.
“Let's just say I've been doing my research.”
“OK, you better watch yourself, miss, before you become a sports story—‘
Corey Cox's female assistant gets slain by teammate's wife,
' ” Reyna said.
“Whatever. He is not married, and I'm not trying to do anything with him. I just said he was fine, that's all.”
“Yup, well, I know what that means, coming from you.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, as we all know, you like fine guys,” Reyna said as she shot Sereeta a look that said
Don't make me explain no further.
Sereeta was in no mood to dig a hole she couldn't get out of. Besides, she knew what Reyna was talking about. Sereeta had recently found herself in quite a few predicaments with some guys' girlfriends and had taken the walk of shame quite a few mornings after a one-night stand. She couldn't deny that she was a weakling for a cute smile, some pretty eyes, and a nice body.
The pedicure took another twenty minutes before they were finished up. Once they were done, they made their way over to a cute bistro on Thirty-Second Street. Once inside, they ordered iced coffees and pastries. Neither of them had to work that day, so they thought it would be nice to hang out more and enjoy a sunny day in the city. The plan was to catch a movie after the bistro and then dinner at San Fritos, which apparently had the best Spanish food on the West Side.
Midway through her cappuccino and a few bites of her brownie à la mode, Sereeta heard her phone ring. She glanced down and saw Incoming call from C.C. “It's Corey,” she said as she looked back up at Reyna.
“You are off—don't start answering on off days, or it will get out of hand,” Reyna preached.
“Yeah, you're right. I didn't get off until eleven o'clock last night. I just want to enjoy a day to myself.”
“Exactly. When you are someone's personal assistant, it's easy to let their life become yours until you don't have one of your own.”
Sereeta had heard that before, so it didn't take much convincing. She leaned back and took another sip of her cappuccino. Reyna began talking about Michael when Sereeta's BlackBerry began to vibrate on the table. It was a text.
Hey, I need someone to come with me on this trip. We leave in a few hours. If I don't hear back from you soon, I'm going to have to get another assistant to come with me. It's an important trip.
“Damn,” Sereeta said out loud.
“What's wrong?” Reyna asked.
“That's Corey. He said he needs me to come with him on some trip today.”
“On your day off?”
“They don't care about all that—their lives must go on. He said if I don't go, he'll just get another assistant to come with him.”
“Does that mean he'll fire you if you don't go?”
“I don't think so, but I still can't risk having someone else do my job either, even if it
is
just for a day. What if he likes her better and gets rid of me?”
“Well, do what you gotta do,” Reyna said as she bit into her pie. “When do they leave?”
“He said in a few hours.”
“So you have to get up now and go?”
“I guess so. Let me call him back first.” Sereeta dialed his number.
Reyna just shook her head. She was very familiar with working overtime; before she had started her own practice, Reyna had been a slave to the system. Still, she was mad she would have to end their lovely afternoon so abruptly.
“Yes, Corey . . . I will see you then,” Sereeta said into the phone. As soon as she hung up, she looked over at Reyna and remained quiet. Reyna made a puppy-dog face.
“It's cool. Let's go,” Reyna said.
“I know this is horrible. I'm like his little slave child,” Sereeta said as she gathered her things from the table.
“No. Duty calls, girl. What you going to do?”
Reyna left a fifty-dollar bill on the table, which she knew was more than enough for their caffeinated drinks and desserts, but the waiter had been friendly, so she didn't mind leaving her a pretty hefty tip.
“I know, but, geez. I just want a day to myself.”
“Listen, jobs are hard to come by. Especially one like you have, so just do what you have to do. We can always get together another time.”
They pushed open the doors and felt the brisk air hit their faces as the noise from the busy New York City street dominated their conversation.
“Well, I have to run home, pack a small bag, and meet him at the arena.”
“Where are you going?”
“He has some business meetings in LA. His driver is picking us up from there.”
“Well, at least you get to go to LA for a couple days. It won't be all work.”
“Yeah, that's true. We'll see. I'll call you when I'm done rushing and on the way to meet him.”
“OK,” Reyna said as she reached over and gave her girl a hug and kiss good-bye.
Sereeta scurried into the street to hail a cab. Within moments one was slowing down to pick her up. She jumped in, gave her address, and immediately started going through her bag for her BlackBerry again. Corey hadn't sent anything new. She would be at her apartment in Harlem in no time, so she decided to utilize the time the best she could. She scheduled Corey's dry cleaning to be ready for pickup when she got to the arena; she rescheduled her hair appointment; and she called her parents to let them know she would be away for work all weekend. With less than two hours to get to the arena, the cab arrived at her place.

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