Truth or Dare (13 page)

T
his was definitely what I needed to lift my mood. I had temporarily set aside all thoughts of Evian and was in my element being interviewed by entertainment reporter Jay Bee for the
Tom Joyner Morning Show
. He was doing this whole entertainment piece on “Young, Black and Fabulous,” and I was happy to be the focus of his interview.

We were sitting in Che LeReu, on Miami's South Beach. It was a gorgeous day and the whole atmosphere was on point.

“So, Miss Morgan,” Jay said. We'd only been doing our interview for five minutes, but I could tell he was already enamored with me. Then again, who wouldn't be? “What is it that you think makes everyone want to share their innermost secrets with you?”

“Well, I think it's just my personality,” I began. “I'm a good listener and I really . . .” before I could finish my sentence, the front door of the restaurant swung open and a loud commotion followed.

Both Jay and I turned toward the noise. It was a cameraman backing in the door and several lights were around him as a crowd of people surrounded him. I almost fell over when I saw what they were shooting. Evian sashayed in first. Behind her was Sheridan, Shay, and Bali. The look on my face spoke volumes because Jay looked at me, then looked at them and said, “Wait, aren't those the former
Miami Divas
?” I didn't reply just as Evian spotted me.

“Maya!” she said, waving in my direction. Why she kept trying to act like we were cool was beyond me. She bounced her little behind over toward me with Shay and Bali right behind her. Sheridan was smart enough to stay her butt right there by the door.

“Girl, what's going on? What are you doing here?” Evian asked. She was so fake. She probably followed me here or checked my publicity calendar so she could barge into my interview.

When I didn't speak, Jay said, “Hi, I'm Jay Bee with the
Tom Joyner Morning Show
and we're doing an interview.”

“So, as you can see,” I said, finally speaking up, “we're a little busy.”

“No need to get all nasty,” Shay said. All of them were camera ready. Shay was looking her usual ghetto-fabulous self in her twenty-six-inch blond weave, her BCBG catsuit, and stilettos (but, though I'd never in a million years tell her, I was digging that Birkin bag). Bali was over the top, too, in his Rock and Republic skinny jeans and boyfriend jacket with the sleeves rolled up. Even Sheridan looked cute in a silver silk maxi dress.

“Yeah, Maya,” Bali added. “You don't need to get testy with us. If this talented journalist would rather waste his time talking with you instead of getting the
real
scoop on the
All American Princess
and her crew,” he said, “who are we to stop him?”

I wanted to tell him that's exactly what he was doing, but before I could say anything, Jay actually smiled. “What kind of scoop?”

“Oh, we're about to discuss it as we meet. Nobody else has it,” Evian said, her voice hushed. “If you finish up in time, maybe you can stop by our table and we'll share it with you and maybe even you'll make it on TV.”

“Oh, so I'll be on your reality show?” he said. I could see the stars dancing around in his eyes.

“You sure will,” Evian said.

I just wanted to say, “Really, dude?” Jay had this look like he would've paid for the chance to be on TV.

“He doesn't need to be on your reality show,” I told Evian. “He's a professional, and he's working right now.”

“Um, you know, I just may take you up on that offer,” Jay said, sliding back from the table. “As a matter of fact, I think we're finished here.” Then, this fool actually stood up. “It was good talking to you, Maya. I'll let you know when the story runs.”

Evian looked at me, smirked, and then told Jay, “Right this way.”

It took everything in my power not to go clean off right there in the middle of that restaurant.

Evian knew she didn't have some exclusive scoop she was working on. Her stupid show had just started airing. But of course, I had to play it cool, so I slowly gathered my things, finished off my coffee, and then made my way out to my car.

“Maya.” I turned around to see Sheridan trying to catch up with me. I rolled my eyes and continued to walk toward my car.

“Would you stop?”

I stopped and spun around.

“I'm sorry, shouldn't you be in there filming your
exclusive
?” I snapped.

“Maya, why are you trippin'?”

“Oh, I'm the one that's trippin'?” I said, appalled that she was really going to try and turn this around on me. “My best friend sold me out for her fifteen minutes of fame on a show—that's
not
going to last, by the way. You'll be lucky if you end up on YouTube.”

Sheridan looked at me sadly. “Maya, you don't think you sold each and every one of us out?”

“No, and I don't know why you guys keep saying that.”

“Because we had a pact,” Sheridan said, taking a step closer to me. “We had all agreed that we were going to demand more money and we were working together. You were all on board until they offered you your own show and then you said screw all of us.”

I folded my arms and glared at her. “So, like I said, you doing Evian's show is all about getting revenge on me.”

“This ain't about you!” Sheridan yelled. She took a deep breath, then calmed herself down.

“Every one of us liked being on
Miami Divas.
Every one of us was sick that the show got cancelled. Do you think I want to be a sidekick, of all things? No, but it's all I got right now. And I think it's foul of you that you don't want anybody else on
your
show but then, you don't want me on anyone else's either.”

I was quiet because she actually had a point.

“Again, like you said, this isn't personal,” she continued. “I just want my fame just like you.”

“Okay, whatever,” I said, shrugging. “If you want to attach yourself to a loser, then so be it.”

“Right now,” Sheridan replied matter-of-factly, “this loser is all I got.”

“Whatever, Sheridan.” I flung open my car door.

“So, we cool?” she asked, putting her hand on the door.

I really, really wanted to be mad at Sheridan, but I couldn't because she was right. I hadn't given her the opportunity to be on my show and I had bailed on them as soon as I could.

“Fine,” I said. “Like I said, you do you.”

“But are we cool?” she repeated.

“Yeah, we're cool.” I managed a smile. “But just know that when Evian's show flops, I'm not going to let you live it down.”

She smiled back. “I wouldn't expect anything else.”

T
he whole world had lost its mind. That was the only thing that I could conclude as I stared at the spreadsheet laid in front of me. How had Evian's show, which had only aired five times, already be neck and neck with me?

I surveyed the spreadsheet that listed our ratings, which basically told us the number of people who were watching what show. Of course,
Rumor Central
was still number one, but I was dumbfounded that
All American Princess
was anywhere close to me.

“It's the newness of it all,” my assistant, Yolanda, said as she set my bottled water down on my desk next to me. I really liked Yolanda because she often knew what I wanted before I even asked for it. And she could read me like a book. Like now, she could tell these rating numbers had me floored.

“This just makes no sense,” I said, waving the paper in her direction.

“I told you, it's the newness,” she repeated. “That's the only reason Evian has those ratings. People are still caught up in the whole feeling sorry for her. She's still riding that wave. Trust me, it'll drop off.”

But what if it didn't?
I thought. Of course, I'd never voice that concern. But if they ended up cancelling my show because of hers, I'd never live that down.

“I just can't believe people are watching that mess,” I said. “The show is so boring.”

“She was trending after last night's show,” Yolanda asked. “But it really is because of the kidnapping, not just because her show is all that.”

I didn't really know if Yolanda believed that or if she was just trying to make me feel better.

Last night's show hadn't been that bad. But it definitely hadn't been all that. Evian had had a “coming out” party. It was basically to celebrate the “new lease on life” she had after her “near-death experience.” Then, the whole exclusive thing with Jay Bee was that she was now working with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. She had actually been hired as their spokesperson. I was sick because the whole partying-with-a-cause thing would give her a whole new round of media coverage. I just couldn't believe the luck that kept falling into her lap. It would be different if she were sincere. But I knew that she wasn't. She was just trying to grab fame by any means necessary. I so had wanted to put her on blast and bring up the prostitution ring she used to run with the cheerleaders at Miami High, but since I'd never formally tied her to that story, I decided to leave well enough alone.

“Knock, knock,” Evian said, walking into my office before I could say anything. She started waving a piece of paper around. “Did you see the ratings? I'm bringing it,” she sang.

“Evian, get out of my office.” I pushed my spreadsheet under some papers on my desk so that she couldn't see what I had been looking at.

“Oooh, somebody sounds salty.” She giggled, just as her phone rang. “Hold that thought,” she said, reaching into her pocket. “That's probably
Ebony
or
US Weekly
wanting to interview me.” She pulled out her phone and pushed the TALK button. “Hello, this is Evian,” she said, answering in a stupid singsong voice.

Then suddenly, the smile disappeared from her face. She looked at me nervously, then turned and hightailed it out of my office.

“What was that about?” Yolanda asked.

“I don't know,” I replied. “But you'd better believe that I'm about to find out.” That look on her face—that was a terrified expression, and if something scared Evian enough to stop her gloating, I needed to know what it was. I hadn't made any progress in tying Carson, that guy she'd met at Friday's, and Evian together. I knew there was a common thread; I just hadn't been able to figure it out.

Evian had raced into her office and was now in there with the door closed.

“Go listen,” I told Yolanda.

“Huh?” Yolanda's eyes bucked. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just listen,” I whispered. “I don't know. Just stick your ear to the door or something.”

“Couldn't I get in trouble?” she said. There was no one in the hall at that moment, but it was nothing for several people to be walking up and down this hall at any time.

“Only if you get caught. And if you do, make up a story. You said you want to be a fiction writer.”

Yolanda seemed hesitant, but then said, “Okay.” I watched as she walked down the hall to Evian's office door and held up her hand like she was about to knock, then she leaned in to listen.

I stepped back in my office because I didn't want anyone to see me watching Yolanda. I busied myself, continuing to study the ratings sheet because something had to be wrong. Maybe the ratings people had mixed up some numbers. After a few minutes, Yolanda stepped back in my office.

“Okay, I almost got busted, but I did hear her. She's going off,” Yolanda said.

“Going off on who?” I asked.

“I have no idea, but they were arguing and she said something about not giving him any more money and to leave her alone.”

I fell back in my seat. My antenna was definitely up now.

Suddenly, we saw Evian speed-walk past my office, still looking frazzled. She had her purse on her shoulder like she was about to leave.

“Nah. Something is definitely up,” I said, trying to figure out what to do. Finally, I said, “Let me borrow your car.”

“Huh?” Yolanda said as I held out my hands.

“Here.” I reached over on my desk, snatched up the keys to my BMW, and handed them to her. “Roll in style for a little while. Just be careful. What kind of car do you have?” I asked as I hurriedly grabbed my purse.

“A Pinto.”

“What's a Pinto?”

“It's a brown car, a Ford, kinda old, a little raggedy. It's parked at the front of the building.”

I wanted to ask her why in the world she'd be caught dead in something like that, but I was in a hurry.

“Cool, I'll be super careful in your Pinto,” I said sarcastically, as I raced out the door behind Evian.

I
guess that I had learned a thing or two hanging around WSVV because I was in full investigative mode. I couldn't believe I was rolling in this dump of a car (I made a mental note to ask for a raise for Yolanda because NO ONE should be forced to drive some crap like this). But it was serving its purpose. No way would Evian notice me in this hoopty.

I was keeping a short distance from Evian. This girl was up to no good and I was determined to find out what was going on.

Evian pulled into the parking lot of Dunkin Donuts and eased her Range Rover into a handicapped parking spot. (I thought about calling the cops to report her, but I didn't want to get sidetracked.)

She seemed on a mission, and I know she wasn't in that much of a hurry to get a dang donut.

I parked and waited for her to go inside; then I pulled out my cell and punched in Alvin's number.

“Hey,” I said once he answered.

“Hey,” Alvin replied.

“What are you doing?”

“Working. What are you doing?”

“I'm following Evian,” I whispered as I ducked down in the car.

“Following her where?”

I kept my voice low. “Right now, she's getting a donut, but I can tell she's up to something. Maybe she's meeting that guy from Friday's.”

“Why are you whispering?” he asked.

“Because it's a top-secret mission,” I said. “I don't want her to know I'm following her.”

“But aren't you following her in the car? Alone?”

“Yeah.”

“So, again, why are you whispering?”

I thought about what he was saying, then burst out laughing. “Oh, my bad.” This girl was making me crazy.

“Girl, you are too much,” Alvin said. “But what are you trying to do? Why are you following her again?”

“I'm just trying to find out what she's up to. She got a call, then rushed off. It's something fishy going on.”

“What, your Spidey senses are tingling or something?” he asked.

“You can make jokes all you want, but she's up to something.”

I watched as Evian walked back outside. “Un-unh, I told you that she was up to something,” I said, back to whispering. “She doesn't even have any donuts.” I eased down in my seat some more as Evian glanced around the parking lot. She was really looking all irritated, like she was somebody. I know people said that I was full of myself, but I had reason to be. Evian had her nose all up in the air for no reason.

Evian almost looked like a crack fiend, waiting on someone to deliver her fix, the way she was fidgeting. I didn't know what was going on, but she was clearly agitated. I watched and waited. Just like I'd done at T.G.I Friday's. She finally stopped fidgeting when a gray Honda Civic pulled into the parking lot.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the car as the driver pulled into the parking lot. She didn't move until finally, she walked over to the car. Whoever was inside, didn't get out. She approached the window. It looked like they were exchanging words; then Evian stomped off.

I couldn't be sure, but it almost seemed as if she was crying.

She got back in her car and I contemplated whether I should follow her or the driver of the Civic. I decided that she had to tape a show, so I knew where she was going. I needed to know who was in that car, so I followed the Civic as it pulled out of the parking lot. I could see it was a guy, but I couldn't get close enough to see who it was. But thankfully, before he got on the freeway, he turned into a gas station. I eased into the parking lot behind him. I hadn't been able to see who he was as he went in so I parked next to his car to wait for him to come out.

When the door to the store opened, he walked out on the telephone.

“Yeah, I met with her. She's trippin' for real. She . . .” He almost dropped the phone when he saw me. I guess he was as stunned as I was.

“Well, if it isn't Mr. Carson Wells,” I said.

“M-Maya,” he stuttered. “Long time, no see.”

As soon as he spoke, I knew his voice. The same voice that had answered when I'd called. The same voice that had said his name was Miguel.

I didn't know whether to go off, or turn and leave, but my need for answers made me say, “I don't know what kind of game you're running, but I have the strangest feeling it's no good.” I glared at him, waiting for an answer.

He looked around the parking lot. “Not here.” He pointed across the street. “Follow me over there to the Starbucks.”

I raised an eyebrow. I know he didn't expect me to follow him anywhere.

“It's a bunch of people in Starbucks—I'm not going to do anything to you. I know you want some answers. Follow me over there and you'll get them.”

I guess my need to connect the dots was greater than any fear, because I just nodded as I got back in my car to follow him to Starbucks.