Mama Dearest (20 page)

The girl stared up with curious eyes. “Can I ask you one more question?”

“Sure, Madison. Ask me whatever you like.”

Madison paused, not sure how to ask her next question. Not sure if she wanted to know the answer. Would Nicole even give her an honest answer?

Her teacher spoke softly, “Madison, you have something you want to ask me, sweetheart?”

Madison’s heart pounded as she forced the words from her mouth: “What did you think of Yancey Braxton? I read on Google that she once was your understudy but later took your role.”

A sudden jolt of surprise shot through Nicole, making her cast a quizzical look at Madison.

“Yancey Braxton. Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.” Nicole laughed as if she were enjoying a private joke.

“So you remember her?” Madison asked eagerly.

“Oh yeah, I remember Yancey. Trust me, Madison, you don’t forget a person like Yancey Braxton.”

Madison couldn’t figure out whether the name was bringing back good or bad memories for her teacher. “So what did you think of her? Was she talented?”

A faraway look swept over Nicole’s face. “Oh, yes. Yancey was talented and very beautiful. She was headstrong and always knew what she wanted when it came to her career.”

Madison studied her teacher’s face and said, “So definitely not the mother type.”

Nicole shrugged slightly. “I don’t think any of us were thinking about being parents at the time. We were too busy worrying about the next gig.”

Nicole studied Madison’s intense expression, trying to find clues about where this conversation was going. Why did the girl care so much about Yancey?

“But I bet if you had a child,” Madison said, “say when you were young, I think you would have given up your career.”

“Thank God that wasn’t an issue for me.” Nicole exhaled with relief. “But I did have friends who had kids early and still managed to have successful careers.”

An
aha!
look flashed in Madison’s eyes. “Exactly, so it could be done!”

Nicole focused hard on the girl’s curious eyes. “Is there any particular reason you’re asking me about Yancey Braxton, Madison?”

Madison opened her mouth to answer—

“Are you two finished?” A deep voice boomed through the room.

It was Derrick.

“Oh, Daddy!” Madison exclaimed. She walked briskly over to him and pulled him by the hands toward her teacher. “I want you to meet the wonderful lady I’ve been telling you about.”

He chuckled, allowing her to tug him across the shiny floor. “Okay Madison, I’m following you.”

They stopped by the piano, where Nicole stood, looking up at this man who gave tall, dark and handsome a whole new meaning.

Madison could barely contain her excitement. “Daddy, this is my voice teacher, Nicole Springer-Stovall. See? I told you how pretty she is.”

Nicole blushed and patted Madison lovingly on the shoulders. She then extended her hand and said, “Madison has been bragging on you ever since we met. It’s so nice to meet you, Derrick.”

Madison searched their expressions for clues about how they were reacting to each other. Her father had to see how amazing her teacher was.

“Nice meeting you, Mrs. Stovall,” Derrick said.

“Please,” the teacher said warmly, “call me Nicole.”

Derrick smiled. “Tell me, Nicole, how did Madison do today?”

Nicole cast a happy look at her pupil. “She’s doing great. Your daughter has major talent.”

Madison blushed.

“I think you’re right,” Derrick said, beaming at Madison. “You ready for some lunch, Madison?”

Madison looked back and forth between her father and her teacher. “Sure, can we get some sushi? Nicole, why don’t you join us?”

Nicole smiled but shook her head. “Thanks, Madison. I wish I could, but I promised to meet my daughters at their school for lunch. But please give me a rain check.”

Madison looked at her father and said, “See, Daddy? I told you what a great mother she is.”

“Yes, you did, Madison,” Derrick said, flashing a broad smile at the teacher as he wrapped his arms around his daughter.

Feeling all this love right after an excellent performance in her singing lesson, Madison felt like she could become the biggest superstar ever. Better yet, she could stay right here and feel this happy forever.

I was spending my evening watching an
I Love New York
marathon thinking, if this simple bitch can get a reality show, then certainly I can. I mean, this crap was barely watchable and it was clear to anyone with half a brain that this chile wasn’t looking for love but a career as a D-list actress. This shit made
Charm School
look like
Masterpiece Theatre.

Just as I was getting ready to turn to Bravo, Ava walked in with a satisfied look on her face, wearing one of my dresses.

“Where have you been? And what are you doing with my dress on?” I asked.

“Hello to you, too, darling. Doesn’t this look lovely on me?” she said, spinning for my approval.

She looked better these days. I was willing to concede that point. “Where have you been?”

“So are you my probation officer now? I’ve been out, darling, enjoying the city. I think it’s time for me to reclaim my place in New York society, so I’ve been out scouting.” Ava went over to the bar and started to make herself a drink.

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Yancey, please mind your own business, love. I don’t see that horrid man until the end of the week. This will be out of my system by then.” She picked up the bottle and poured herself a tall glass. “Have we gotten the final word on our reality series?”

“You mean
my
series,” I said, folding my arms. “Not a final word. Have you ever seen
I Love New York
?”

“Oh, yes. That was a popular show in jail. I love Mother Patterson. Can’t you see me playing that role in your little show? That is
if
you get it.”

“No, I can’t,” I said quickly. That was the main reason I didn’t want Ava anywhere near the cameras, mugging and taking time away from me. That New York child was crazy for letting her overbearing mother steal the show right from under her.

“Now, Yancey, I know you’re not afraid of me being the star of your show. Are you, darling?”

Both of us knew full well what the answer to that was. “Fix me a drink.”

“Do I look like your maid or bartender? I think not. You better bring your ass over here and fix yourself a drink.”

I didn’t feel like fighting or talking with Ava, and so I just got up from the sofa and went into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

T
HE NEXT AFTERNOON
S. Marcus came by the town house with some not-so-good news. Jeff thought Lyrical absolutely had to be a part of my show as my trusty assistant.

I shook my head but kept my cool. “I have said this before and I’ll say it again. This is a bad idea. That girl is nothing but trouble.” We
were sitting at the end of my dining room table, and I still had on my black nightgown. Was I going to have to do S. Marcus right on the spot to get my way? I didn’t have to worry about Ava walking in because I knew she had a meeting with her parole officer.

“Come on, Yancey. I tell you, the contrast between you and Lyrical will create drama people want to see. You see, with you being so pretty and feminine and Lyrical being kind of hard will be just great. Jeff liked her as well. I knew he would.”

Something was up. No one told me about this face to face. “When did he meet her?”

“A couple of days ago.”

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“We just flew her down for the day and she was back home before dinner,” he said, trying to play it down. “Can you believe she’d never been on a plane?”

“Not hard to believe at all. So has she agreed to do it?”

“Not yet, but I think you can convince her. If not, maybe your mother can help us out.”

I shook my hands, indicating a complete rejection of that notion. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want Ava involved in any way?”

“Then you need to close the deal,” he said firmly.

So now it was up to me? What happened to Mr. I’ll take care of everything?

“Can I get something to drink?” I asked, changing the subject. “What do you want? Do you want something clear or dark?”

“Just a bottle of water.”

“How long are you going to be here?”

“I’m going back to Miami as soon as I leave you.”

I went to the kitchen and got a bottle of water for the both of us. I opened a button that held my nightgown together. If S. Marcus had time, I would start my plan to keep this girl out of my life. When
I walked back into the dining room, I saw S. Marcus looking at the cleavage now peeking out.

“Damn, girl, you look good in that. Have I seen it before?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a sexy smile. “I have several of them in all different colors. But this silk is feeling warm on my body. Do you mind if I take it off?”

“What do you have on under it?”

“Nothing,” I replied.

“Then I don’t think you should do that, because my flight leaves in a couple of hours.” I was surprised by the rejection, and his face darkened into a frown. “Besides, I have something else I need to talk to you about, and I don’t think I can stand the distraction of you sitting at the dining room table naked. But I will keep that in mind for future nights of pleasure.”

“Are you sure?” I asked coyly.

“Yancey, you know there isn’t anything I like better than making love to you, but I got something to talk to you about.”

Now I was concerned by his mysterious tone. “Does it have to do with my show?”

“Not really. Well, sort of.”

“What?” Please don’t let this fall through, not after we got so close.

“Let me go get my briefcase.”

S. Marcus walked from the dining room and returned moments later with the black bag. He sat it on the table and snapped it open. The bag was filled with money. There stacked neatly beside each other were hundred-dollar bills. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much money at one time.

Alarmed, I asked, “Marcus, what are you doing with all that money?”

“I took it from my bank account.”

“Why are you carrying it around like that? That’s dangerous.”

He tried to make light of my worry. “It’s fine. But I need you to do me a favor.”

“What?” I had no idea where this was going. Was I about to lose my show
and
my man?

“I need you to keep this for me. You can take some to buy yourself some new clothes for the show,” he offered.

“Like a wardrobe allowance?” I asked, hoping this was legit.

“Yeah, that’s what we call it.”

“But in cash? Why don’t you just give me a credit card?”

S. Marcus looked at me in exasperation. “Yancey, come on and just do what I ask.”

“I don’t know if I feel safe having that amount of money just laying around the house.” Suddenly I had an image of Ava finding the money in my closet and stuffing her bra with as much as she could get inside and then denying she knew anything about it when I confronted her.

“Don’t you have a safe here?”

“Yes, but it’s a small one. All that money wouldn’t fit in there. I have a safety deposit box at the bank. But if I’m going to do that, I might as well put it into my account.”

“Why don’t you open another account, so it won’t get mixed up with your funds?” S. Marcus suggested.

This whole thing bothered me, but I didn’t want to screw up my chances with the show. “Don’t worry. I don’t have that much money in my Citibank account, but if you like I’ll open a new account and put it in there. How long do you want me to keep it?”

“For a couple of months. By then this mess will be over.”

My barometer shot up a few degrees. “What mess?”

“Well, I got a little problem,” he explained, looking sheepishly at me. “It’s a young lady from Michigan I use to kick it with. The bitch ain’t nothing but a gold digger. She claims I’m the father of her little girl, but that shit ain’t true. I took a paternity test and it came back negative. Now she’s claiming I had one of my boys take the test and
she’s suing me for child support. That little girl is almost four years old. Do you know how much back child support that would be?”

My heart dropped at the thought of S. Marcus possibly hustling me. “Could it be your child, Marcus?”

“Hell, no,” he scoffed.

“Then take the test again. Prove to her it’s not yours and this mess will be over.”

“Look, are you going to do this or not? My lawyer told me she might try to get my bank records to see how much I’m worth. I promise you, Yancey, soon as this is over I will take the money back and never get you involved with my problems. It’s only temporary.”

S. Marcus gave me a puppy-dog pleading look. He’d done so much for me and I wanted to help him out. Besides, having a bank account with a bunch of zeros behind it would be nice, even if it weren’t mine. Maybe I could leverage a line of credit using Marcus’s money as collateral. Yeah, I should do this, I told myself. I’ve done crazier things.

“Okay,” I allowed, still not feeling right about it, “but you’re sure this is on the up-and-up?”