Rumor Central (2 page)

T
he sound of thunder bounced off the walls of the small conference room at WSVV-TV. A Miami storm was brewing outside and it looked like a bigger one was about to jump off inside.

The thunder had to be messing up my hearing, though. Because I just know this one-Reese's-Pieces-away-from-exploding mop head was not saying what I thought he was saying.

“. . . I'm sorry, I know this may be hard. But we really don't have a choice.”

Fired?

Did he really say we were getting fired?
All of us?

“I know this is not what you wanted to hear. . . .”

It sure wasn't. When Dexter Garrett asked me and my fellow cast members to gather in the conference room at WSVV-TV, I just knew it was to tell us the station executives were caving to our demands. After all, we'd made this little funky no-name channel. It was tanking in the ratings, behind reruns of
The Simpsons
, until we came and did what we do best—shined like the North Star.

Everybody and their dog was talking about
“Miami Divas”
and after my fab party last week, they hadn't stopped talking about me!

That's why this craziness Dexter was talking wasn't making any kind of sense.

“The season finale taping was great and all, but we've made the decision to go in a different direction,” Dexter said.

“Excuse me,” Evian said, standing to her feet and tossing her butt-length hair over her shoulder. Every time I saw her do that, I wanted to grab some scissors and cut some of that mess off. I heard those hood girls pay big money for hair like that.

“Yes, Evian?” Dexter said, blowing a long breath like he wasn't in the mood for questions.

“So, you're telling us that
Miami Divas
is no more?” Evian said, waving her Minx nails like they were some kind of magic wand that could make this foolishness disappear.

“What part of
fired
do you not get?” Shay snapped. She had a serious attitude and looked like somebody was about to feel her wrath. But then again, Shay always had an attitude about something.

“I'm sorry,” Evian snapped right back. “Where I come from, I don't get fired. My family does the firing.”

“Well, you ain't in India no more,” Shay huffed, rolling her neck, tossing her honey-blond hair like it was real. “You in Miami,
chica
.”

“For the one-thousandth time, I'm not from India! I'm from Dubai. And I don't speak Spanish.”

“India, Dubai, Africa, it's all the same.” Shay waved her off. Those two were like some old married couple, arguing one minute and best friends the next.

“Hey, Nicki Minaj,” Bali yelled at Shay,“can you and Kim Kardashian sit down and let the man finish? Obviously, he has to get to the part where he tells us this is all a joke.” Bali raised an eyebrow, turned up his lips, and gave Dexter a “go on” look.

Dexter ran his hands nervously through his hair. “Unfortunately, it's not a joke,” he finally said. “Corporate has made the decision not to renew the show.”

So
that's
what that crazy conversation from Tamara was about! She'd pulled me aside at the party to ask if I would be interested in my own show. Of course, I told her I would, but she made it seem like that was something for the future. She never said anything about canceling
Miami Divas
, which I definitely couldn't appreciate because she was supposed to be a friend of the family—her aunt and my mom knew each other and she'd interned at my dad's company.

Fired.

I couldn't get that word out of my head. Why would Tamara talk to me about my own show if she was planning on firing me?

“But I thought we were doing great in the ratings.” That was Sheridan, speaking for the first time since we gathered in the conference room.

“You were just doing okay,” Tamara said, finally speaking up. I should've known something was up since she sat at the head of the table all quiet. She usually called the shots so the fact that she let Dexter begin should've been our cue that this wasn't going to be pretty.

Tamara sighed heavily as she continued. “And well, quite frankly, with the demands you all were making . . .” She let her words trail off. Shay coughed loudly as she shot me the evil eye. She had been completely against us demanding anything, especially because, as she said, “It's not like we needed more money.”

But it was the principle of it all. When we'd started the show, it was just a way to highlight our fabulous lifestyle, so we were all in it just for the fun. My dad is actually the one who convinced me that since we had blown up so well the first season, we needed to demand more money and perks and we shouldn't take no for an answer. Everyone had been on board, except for Shay. Now, she was shooting us an “I told you so” look.

Whatever. I wasn't about to take the blame for this. I hadn't held a gun to anyone's head and made them agree with me.

Anyway, I wasn't about to beg for this stupid job. I'd had it going on before this show and I would have it going on after it.

I grabbed my custom-made ostrich Berkin bag, pulled out my Chanel sunglasses, and stood up.

“I don't have time for this,” I said. “Maya Morgan doesn't stay anywhere she's not wanted.”

Tamara narrowed her eyes at me. “If Maya Morgan would shut up, sit down, and listen—”

“Hold up!” I said, raising my index finger in her direction. “You must think you're talking to some lowlife or something because I'm not the one.”

Tamara took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Maya, please have a seat and let us finish.”

We faced off. I wondered if I should tell her to kiss my Pilates-toned backside, but up until today, I had liked Tamara, so I let her make it as I slid back into my seat.

“As Dexter was saying,” Tamara continued, “we are canceling the show. But . . .” She and Dexter exchanged glances. “We are keeping one of you.”

All of us sat straight up.

“What?” Sheridan said.

“You can't do that!” Evian cried.

“We're a team,” Bali said.

“Who are you keeping?” I tossed in as my heart raced. Everyone turned around to stare at me, but I didn't care. I needed to know.

“Well”—Tamara hesitated as the room got quiet—“Maya, we'd like to keep you on board to head up the show I was telling you about. It's called
Rumor Central
.”

I wanted to jump up and shout for joy and if I wasn't afraid of breaking my five-inch Louboutins, I would have.

“Oh my God. So, like, what will I be doing?” I wasn't even trying to hide my excitement, even though I could feel the other four shooting me daggers.

“Telling you about?” Sheridan said. “You knew about this?”

“You knew we were getting fired and you didn't say anything to us?” Evian added in disbelief.

I shook my head, but before I could reply, Tamara said, “No, Maya had no idea they were canceling the show.”

“That's right. I had no idea,” I said with an attitude. How were they getting mad at me?

“But you did know they were looking at you for another show,” Bali said, staring at me like he was trying to see straight through me.

“Boy, I was into my party. I didn't know what she was talking about,” I snapped. They were really busting my bubble right about now.

“You are such a freakin' liar,” Shay said.

“I got your liar,” I snapped.

Tamara quickly stepped in. “Look, we are not about to do this,” she said with a heavy sigh as she turned back to me. “I just need to know if you're still interested.”

I looked around the room and several sets of eyes staring at me. I don't know what they expected me to say, but I knew what I was going to say. “Of course I am!”

“Really, Maya?” Sheridan asked, looking at me like I was crazy.

I stared at her. She was my best friend, but if she wanted to trip with me, I'd let her go in a Miami minute.

I didn't bother answering her; instead, I turned back to Tamara, and whispered, “Maybe we should talk about my new show in another room. I have a feeling this environment is about to get a bit hostile.”

Tamara hesitated, then nodded like she knew that was probably best.

“Talk to you guys later,” I said, grabbing my purse and getting up from the table.

“Seriously, Maya?” Sheridan repeated.

“You are so foul,” Bali said as I headed toward the door.

“With a capital F,” Evian added.

“What happened to all that crap you were talking about, ‘we're a team. We need to stand together'?” Shay snapped at me, or rather at my back because I was already at the door.

I had given that “we're a team” speech less than twenty-four hours ago, and I'd meant it. At the time. But today was a new day. I was about to get mine and too bad, so sad for my friends.

I turned and shrugged. “Don't hate the player, hate the game,” I said, then turned and headed out the door.

A
true diva never lets you see her get excited about anything. But it was taking everything in my power to keep my emotions in check. As the four bigwigs tossed around comments like “all-out promotion,” “celebrity interviews,” and “hottest show ever,” I felt like I was on top of the world. But still, I kept my cool. Honestly, I just wished they'd hurry up and finish so I could go call my boyfriend, Bryce, and tell him the good news. I wondered what kind of gift he'd buy me to celebrate. Bryce loved spoiling me. And getting my own show was definitely cause for spoiling.

“
Rumor Central
will be a hot, new edgy show that will dish the latest celebrity dirt,” Tamara said. “I mean, the name is
Rumor Central
, but we just kind of put the rumors out there—you know, in a sensational way. We'll let the people draw their own conclusions. We're like Perez Hilton, Media Takeout, and Bossip on TV—but from a teen perspective. And that's only part of the show. The other is the celebrities coming on, talking about what's hot in their lives, addressing some of the gossip that's going on out there about them, stuff like that.”

Tamara eyed me like she was studying me. “So, Maya, are you feeling any of this?” she asked from the head of the table, where she sat with three other executives from the TV station. It had been less than thirty minutes since I'd gotten the news that I'd be getting my own show. But the fact that she'd been able to gather all of these bigwigs so quickly let me know this was serious.

“I mean, you don't seem excited about our plans,” she continued.

I yawned like they were boring me, then leaned back and crossed my legs. “Naw, it's cool.”

“
Cool
?” Dexter asked. He looked at his colleagues and laughed. They'd filled me in on their plans for me and each word made my heart beat faster and faster. It took a lot to get me excited, but they'd definitely done that.

“So is this even something you want to be a part of?” Dexter asked.

“I told you, I'm cool,” I repeated.

One of the executives, who had introduced himself as Mr. Waverly, looked at Tamara with confusion.

“We're rolling out a multimillion-dollar campaign, putting everything we have behind this show, and she says it's
cool
?” he asked.

I didn't need to be ruffling any feathers just yet, so I plastered a smile on my face. “No, I'm totally hyped.”

“I can't tell,” Dexter mumbled.

“Would you rather she jump up and down like some giddy teenager?” Tamara said, smiling like a proud mother. “She's actually too classy for that, which is why she's the one we chose.”

Thank you!
Tamara understood me. I knew I liked her for a reason. Divas understood divas.

I leaned forward, tapping my fingertips to emphasize my point. “Let me be clear. I'm totally feeling this and want you to know that you made the best decision by hiring Maya Morgan,” I said.

Mr. Waverly narrowed his eyes.

“Do you always refer to yourself in the third person?” he asked me.

I leaned back and smiled. “It's kinda my thing, you know? My trademark. Nicki Minaj has the colored hair, Rihanna has the tats. That's mine.” I couldn't be sure, but it looked like he rolled his eyes. I couldn't be concerned with that, though. I had more important issues to clear up. “Now, did I hear someone say something about a clothing allowance?”

“Yes,” Tamara replied, “we know you dress well now, but we want to set you up with a new wardrobe, something unique that no one has seen before.”

Now that right there was enough to seal the deal. I would never in a trillion years admit this to anyone, but my dad had cut me off. At least temporarily. He said my spending was out of control and we needed to tighten the belt because of the “tanking economy.” Please. He was the one always walking around bragging about how we were the “one percent” and we shouldn't be afraid to flaunt it. I wasn't the least bit afraid, and trying to rein me in now was not going to fly.

Tamara turned to a young, pudgy girl who was in desperate need of a makeover and said, “Sonia, can you get with Maya about the wardrobe by tomorrow?”

Sonia nodded and started scribbling on a notepad.

I hoped she wasn't the stylist. If she was, she needed to be fired like yesterday for violating all kinds of dress codes.

Tamara immediately turned back to one of the producers on the other side of her. “Ken, I understand you've snagged a biggie for our first interview?”

The young guy smiled proudly. “Yep, Maya's first interview will be with Sylk.”

What?
Talk about coming out with a bang. Sylk was the hottest pop star on the planet.

I was just about to comment, but then I thought about something. “If this is supposed to be a gossip show like TMZ, where will we get all the gossip from?” I asked.

“How do you think TMZ gets half the gossip it does?” Dexter answered. “The celebrities themselves plant it. So Sylk is gonna come on, we'll ask a couple of questions about her new album and then she's letting us ask about the beef between her and her record company. Then, we'll be counting on you to help us dig up other dirt on some of the local celebrities.”

I was just about to say something else when the conference room door swung open.

“What's going on?” Tamara asked, eyeing the security guard who came running up behind Bali.

“I-I'm so sorry, ma'am,” the guard said nervously. “I was trying to lead him out and he took off.”

“You doggone skippy I took off,” Bali said, transforming into true diva mode. His blond, normally perfect hair was all over his head as if he'd been running. He darted to the other side of the room, away from the security guard. “I'm not leaving out of here until I have my say.” He motioned wildly up and down the table. “All of you are low-down. Dirty. For the past two years, we've put our lives on display. My whole stupid country has turned against me because of the shame I brought, but I let you shine a mirror on me for the sake of ratings and this is how you repay me?” he shouted.

“Bali, I understand you are upset, but this is not the time or the place,” Tamara calmly said.

“And this little skank right here,” he continued, ignoring Tamara and pointing at me.

“Bali, chill. . . .” I began. Maybe I could reason with him since he was the one I was closest to, next to Sheridan.

He jabbed his long, bony finger in my direction. “Look, you little backstabbing troll. If you knew what's good for you, you would not want to say a word to me because I'm two seconds from stomping that pretty right off your face.”

“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes and leaning back. So much for that idea. I knew there was no talking to Bali when he was this upset, so I just dropped it. Let security deal with it. Bali was a bonafide fool and the last person I wanted to be tussling with was him, especially when he was mad like this.

“You think you Miss High and Mighty, like your stuff don't stink.” He held his nose. “Well, boo-boo, I got news for you. It does and when I'm done, everybody will smell it.”

I couldn't get why he was so mad at me. I didn't go looking for this job. I guess I was supposed to say,“No, thank you. I'm gonna pass on this opportunity of a lifetime because I don't want to hurt my friends' feelings”?

“Do I have to endure this?” I said, turning to Tamara. “I mean, really, what kind of bootleg joint are you running that you can't keep the riffraff out.”

“She's right,” Tamara said, standing up and motioning to the guard by the door. “Get him out of here.”

The security guard grabbed Bali by the arm. “Oh, this ain't over, boo-boo!” he yelled as they dragged him out. “You got to show yourself at school!”

The execs looked at Tamara in shock. She must've felt compelled to explain. “That's one of the people we just cut. He's a little upset, but he'll be okay.”

I knew Bali wasn't the only one who was upset and I could only imagine what the others had to say. “So now I have to walk around in fear of my life?” I asked.

“You know Bali is harmless. He's all talk,” Tamara said.

“Well, like Mr. Waverly said, you're investing a lot of money in me.” I motioned up and down my body. “And now, I'm even more valuable than I already was. So can I get some protection?”

Tamara let out an uneasy laugh. “So, now you want a bodyguard?”

“Bodyguard, private security, whatever you want to call it, at least until these fools stop tripping with me because I'm sure you don't want anything to happen to me. The liability could be ridiculous.” I crossed my toned legs, folded my arms, then gave them a look that said,
I may only be seventeen, but I'm all about the business.

Dexter rolled his eyes like I was more trouble than I was worth, but I didn't care. Last year, when one of the jocks had made the mistake of teasing Bali for acting like a girl, Bali did a karate chop to his throat, then turned him over and spanked him like he was five years old. So I knew what he was capable of and I wasn't trying to go there.

“Fine,” Tamara said. She turned to Pudgy Girl again. “Can you look into that, Sonia?” The girl nodded and once again began scribbling.

“Thank you.” I put my Chanel sunglasses on and stood. “Now, this whole situation has me rattled and I need to go clear my head at the spa. But let me say I'm super psyched to be your new host. I'm sure you all can work out all the minor details about my increase in pay and all my perks and get the contract over to my attorney.” I flashed a huge smile. “This is all so fab.”

“We're not done,” Dexter said.

“Just shoot me an email about what else you guys talk about. I have to go let my crew work their magic if you want me ready for a photo shoot. My hairdresser stays booked four weeks in advance, so I'm already calling in favors to get him to see me,” I replied.

“We have a hairdresser,” Ken said.

I looked at him like he'd lost his mind. He must not have known I'd seen the station's hairdresser at work. If I wouldn't let that Sally Beauty School reject touch my hair for
Miami Divas
, what in the world made him think I was going to do it now.

“Sorry,” Tamara said with an apologetic smile. “She doesn't let anyone but her own hairdresser work on her hair.

I ignored all the strange looks on the executives' faces and tossed my purse over my shoulder.

“Talk to you guys later. Smooches,” I said, before heading out the door, first to call my boo, then to get my hairdresser, Davion, to hook me up. I couldn't help but laugh as I walked out the door. Miami definitely wasn't ready for the new me!