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Authors: ReShonda Tate Billingsley

BOOK: Eye Candy
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Chapter 7
I
must have really been in love. That was the only thing that could explain why I was hesitating to do what I was about to do. The old Maya Morgan wouldn't have thought twice; it would've been all about me. But Alvin was a good guy and I really hated hurting him.
I didn't know what else to do though. I'd thought long and hard about this and I was going to have to take J. Love up on his offer. I simply could not sit in the balcony. My career was on the line and I really didn't want to jeopardize it. Plus, I didn't need any distractions at the Icon Awards. And I was really tired of having to defend my relationship.
I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell to Alvin's house. I'd practiced my speech all the way over here and I knew that, as hard as it was, I was going to have to uninvite him to the awards show.
“Hi, Mrs. Martin,” I said to his mother, who was making a rare appearance to open the door. Usually, she stayed in her room. She was sickly, which was why she lived with Alvin. When I'd first met him, I had been turned off because I'd thought he was some nerd living at home. But, it turned out, he'd bought his childhood home, which his mother had lost several years prior, then moved her back in with him.
“Hey, sweetie,” she said. I felt so bad for her. She was battling lupus, and most of the time, the disease looked as if it was winning. Today, she had on a blue housecoat, and her eyes looked dark and sunken. Her frail frame and her stringy hair made her look twenty years older than she actually was.
“Is Alvin here?” I asked.
Despite looking sickly, she had a big grin on her face. “He is,” she said, stepping aside and motioning for me to come in. “He asked me to tell you to come on in and have a seat.”
I walked into their living room and sat on the edge of the sofa.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, ma'am. I'm good.”
She had a mischievous look on her face and I didn't know what to make of it. The woman had probably said ten words to me in the entire time that I'd known her, so I didn't know what the look on her face was about.
“Just wait right there,” she said.
“Okay. But do you know how long Alvin is going to be?” I asked. It was unlike Alvin to keep me waiting.
“Just a few minutes,” she said, a little too loud.
I tried not to look at her crazy as she said, “Let me turn on the television for you.”
“Oh, I'm good,” I said.
“No, no, no. I have to turn the TV on,” she firmly said.
“Okay, fine,” I replied.
She smiled as she went to turn the TV on. She set the remote on top of the TV, then turned to me. “I'm going to leave you here to watch TV.”
“Okay.” I don't know why she was acting so strange. But I didn't feel like trying to figure it out either. So I just sat back and waited. After a few seconds, I heard music from the television. Then, a voice.
“Once upon a time, a friend called and asked if I could help out a friend of a friend.” Alvin walked into the view on the screen. I frowned in confusion. Why had he taped a video? “Because I get those kind of calls all the time, I wasn't too thrilled about once again having to provide my services to someone free of charge,” he continued. “Then, that friend of a friend showed up at my door. From the moment I saw her, I knew. I knew that she was special. I knew that, one day, she would be mine. But I also knew that she was way out of my league. So I could only dream. I dreamed that one day she would see in me, what I see in her. I dreamed that one day she would see that none of that celebrity life mattered. That the only thing that mattered was having someone in her life that really and truly loved her. That guy is me.” The camera zoomed in closer as Alvin continued. Even though I had been trying to figure out what was going on, my heart was swelling.
“Maya, I don't even know if you remember that exactly one year ago today is when we first met. And on this, our anniversary, I want to say, I want to continue to be your best friend, your partner, and when you're ready, your lover. I will spend every day trying to make you happy.”
By the time the video finished playing, I was in tears. Alvin had been so understanding about everything. Even though he was trippin' a little bit about J. Love lately, he put up with a lot and genuinely wanted me to be happy. Not to mention how understanding he'd been that I wanted to save myself (yeah, I know, a rarity). Not that I was waiting for marriage, but I was waiting for when the time was right.
“Maya, thank you for being in my life,” Alvin said as the music came back up. Just then, Alvin appeared in the doorway with a bouquet of roses. “I hope those are happy tears,” he said.
I stood up and hugged him. “They are. That was so sweet.”
He handed me the flowers. “I know you can afford to buy anything I would've bought you, and I wanted to give you something from the heart. So, that's why I made this video. And these flowers are handpicked from my mother's rose garden.” I took the bouquet and sniffed it.
“Maya, you are my best friend, and while I'm in no rush to do anything, I just want to make you happy. Whatever that may mean,” Alvin added.
I hugged him tightly. Then tossed the speech I had been practicing from my mind. Forget what everyone else said. Alvin was the love of my life, and I would proudly have him on my arm at the Icon Awards—even if that meant we'd be sitting in the balcony.
Chapter 8
I
didn't care what anyone said tonight, I was going to have a good time. That was the mantra I had been repeating to myself all evening long as I got dressed in my Christian Dior metallic silver gown. Alvin had proven he was worthy of being on my arm, and I needed to hold my head high as he escorted me to the awards show.
I knew that the evening was off to a great start when Alvin showed up to pick me up wearing an Armani tux. I had dropped several hints and then come right out and told him that he needed to bring his A game for this event. He'd blown me off and told me don't worry about it, he had it. Then, he'd refused my request to send me pictures of his tux. I'd gotten him sized and I had a backup tux upstairs—one of my dad's expensive ones that he'd never miss. I'd already had the waist taken in since Alvin was a little bit smaller than my dad. No way was I going to have this night ruined because Alvin was dressed like a nerd. I'd seen him dress up before, but I needed a backup plan just in case. Luckily, I didn't need it because Alvin was on it.
“You look nice,” I said, giving him a once-over as he stood in the foyer of our house. “Except . . .” I stepped toward him and removed his Coke-bottle glasses. “There.”
“But I can't see!” I knew he was joking. Stuff was a little blurry, he'd told me before, but he could still see.
“I'll guide you,” I said anyway. “But you look perfect now.”
“He sure does.” My mom approached us, smiling.
“Hello, Mrs. Morgan,” Alvin said, politely.
“How are you, sweetheart?” she said, leaning in and giving him an air kiss.
My mom totally liked Alvin. I do think there was a part of her that felt like everyone else and wished he had a little more swag, but he was so polite and she loved the way he treated me, so she gave him a pass.
“Thank you very much,” he replied.
“Is that Armani?” my mother asked, fingering his collar. As a devout shopaholic, she knew designers like she knew her own name. Guess that's where I got it from.
Alvin nodded. “Yes, ma'am. Custom.”
My mom nodded her approval as she looked at me. “I like. I like.”
We made some more small talk before Alvin finally said, “Are you ready to go?”
“Don't I look ready?” I asked, doing a slow twirl.
“That you do,” he replied. “That you do.”
We said our good-byes and made our way out to his fire-red Corvette. Twenty minutes later, we were pulling up to the American Airlines Arena. This was the first time the awards were being held somewhere other than L.A. and I needed to make sure I made a big splash. As soon as our limo pulled up to the red carpet, the show liaison met us at the door.
Alvin got out first, and the woman all but ignored him as she spoke to me. “Hello, Maya,” she said as I stepped out of the car. “Lovely Christian Dior.”
Okay, she'd redeemed herself. I smiled; that's what I liked—a woman that was on her business and knew who she was dealing with.
“You look fabulous. How are you?” the woman asked. She actually looked like she should be walking on the red carpet herself in a slamming off-the-shoulder black sequined minidress.
“Thank you. And I'm fine,” I said.
“Hi, Maya.”
I turned to see Cassie, our station publicist, approaching. She had a clipboard and an earpiece, like she was really ready to work. My sometime-bodyguard, Mann, was behind her. He used to go everywhere with me, but I'd slacked off on using him because I really hated always having someone following me. The station had hired him after this stalker situation I'd experienced when I'd first started doing
Rumor Central
.
“Do you need anything?” Cassie asked me.
Different seats,
I wanted to tell her. But I had come to terms with my balcony seats. I only hoped that once I got inside and they started taking me upstairs, I didn't lose it. “Just ready to do this,” I said.
Cassie gave Alvin a half smile, and then turned and pointed toward the red carpet.
“Okay, Maya, they're ready for you on the red carpet.”
She had a sign with my name on it. I guess she needed to hold it up to let the paparazzi know who I was. As if anyone here didn't know who I was.
“Come on, Alvin—this way,” I said, taking his hand.
“No.” Cassie stopped, a horrified expression across her face. “Th-the red carpet is just for you.”
“Excuse me,” I said. These people were acting like Alvin was some sort of butt-ugly monster or something. He may have not been all fab, but he wasn't as bad as everyone was trying to make him out to be. And tonight, he actually looked nice. “What about her?” I said, pointing to Cameron Diaz, who was posing on the red carpet with some unknown guy. “She has a date.”
“Um, yeah, but that's Cameron Diaz,” Cassie replied.
“And I'm Maya Morgan,” I shot right back.
“Maya, it's cool,” Alvin said. “I'll just meet you in our seats.”
I wanted to protest some more, but he squeezed my arm reassuringly as he leaned in and whispered, “It's not that serious. You know this isn't my thing anyway.” He gave me a kiss on my cheek and said, “Go enjoy your limelight. I'll be waiting for you inside.”
I could barely respond as Cassie shuttled me toward the red carpet.
“Maya!” a photographer yelled out as soon as I stepped out onto the carpet. “Are you here with J. Love?”
I wanted to curse him out, because he had just seen who I was here with, but I kept my smile and ignored his questions as more photographers called my name. I flashed my signature smile as I turned from spot to spot, letting them take pictures of my gown in its full essence, and then I turned around so they could get pictures of the elegant dip in the back of my dress.
“Gorgeous,” someone shouted.
“Nice!” someone else said.
“It sure is.”
I turned toward the voice and saw it was J. Love. He walked onto the red carpet—no, I take that back. He
strutted
on the red carpet, with a swag that sent the paparazzi into a frenzy and they immediately started hammering him with questions.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, ignoring them as he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.
I tried to maintain my smile for the cameras. But I really didn't want the photographers taking pictures of us together. “You look nice yourself.” And that he did. I thought Alvin had brought it, but J. Love had taken it to a different stratosphere. I could tell his tux was custom, too, but he'd paired it with some Gucci high-top sneakers and a T-shirt. I knew he would definitely make the fashion blogs with that getup.
“So where's your date?” he asked.
“He's inside. Where's yours?”
And then a reporter said, “Yeah, J. Love, where's your date?”
At that point, J. Love turned to the photographer. “I'm rolling solo tonight, folks. If I can't have the one I want”—he looked at me and winked—“I'll just fly by myself.”
That, of course, elicited all kinds of chatter as reporters started scribbling on their notepads and the photographers started snapping away.
“What are the chances of you two getting back together?” someone yelled.
“Admit it, you two love each other.”
“You guys make the perfect couple,” someone else added.
The questions and comments were flying like crazy at us. And all I knew was that I needed to get away. I gave a polite wave as I tried to make my way down the red carpet.
“Wait up,” J. Love said, catching up with me.
“I don't want to disrespect Alvin like this,” I said through my smile.
“Look at you, trying to have a heart.”
“I
do
have a heart,” I said. I leaned to his ear and whispered, “And it belongs to Alvin.”
“Not for long,” he said. “Believe that.” The smile left his face and he stared at me to let me know he was dead serious. I had to get away from him. I didn't know what kind of game he was playing, but I wasn't taking part.
“Bye, J. Love.”
“What I want, I usually get,” he called out after me.
I ignored him, as well as the continued shouts of the paparazzi, as I walked in to take my seat next to my boyfriend—in the balcony.

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