Eye Candy (5 page)

Chapter 9

I
had just settled in at my desk when Yolanda poked her head into my office door. I was dead tired. The awards show hadn't wrapped up until late last night. Then, I'd had to get up and get to school on time because I had a test in first period. I'd headed to the station right after school. I wished that I could've canceled today's taping. But since that wasn't an option, I was trying my best to just make it through the day.

“Hey, Yolanda. What's up?” I said.

“There is someone at the front desk to see you.”

“Who?” I asked, surprised. They knew I was very selective in the visitors I allowed at the station and most people knew not to even bother me. As the host of one of the top TV entertainment shows in the country, I had fans who would try anything to get next to me. So the station usually kept a tight rein on who they let come see me.

“Who is it?” I asked again when she didn't answer.

“Girl, it's your ex.”

“My ex?” I said. I knew she wasn't talking about Bryce Logan, whom I'd
thought
was my first love. Bryce knew better than to show up at the station. I had a couple of other exes but none worth mentioning. By the way Yolanda's eyes lit up, I knew exactly who she was talking about.

“J. Love?” I asked.

She nodded with a smirk on her face. “I guess he meant it when he said he wasn't giving you up.”

Yolanda had been there when J. Love had first declared he wasn't going down without a fight. And of course, I was sure that she'd heard about his declaration on the red carpet last night since it was all over the blogs today. I'd thought he was just blowing smoke at first because J. Love could have any girl he wanted. I think the fact that I didn't want him only made him want me more.

“What does he want?” I asked her.

“I don't know, but he and his six dozen roses want to see you.”

“Six dozen roses?”

Yolanda laughed. “Girl, half the staff is up there going crazy.”

I shook my head as I put my pen down and did a quick once-over of myself in the mirror to make sure I was still on point, which of course I was. I made my way up front to find J. Love entertaining Liz, the front desk receptionist.

“And to what do I owe this visit?” I asked as I walked out front.

“Uh, isn't today Valentine's Day?” J. Love asked.

“It's May.”

“Oh dang, um, Mother's Day?” he said with a smile.

“I'm not a mother.”

“Uh, how about Because Maya Morgan Is Beautiful day?” He looked at Liz. “You like the sound of that?”

Liz gushed like a stupid girl with a puppy-dog crush on someone. “I love it.”

“J., what do you want?” I asked, rolling my eyes. He could charm everyone else with that swag, but I wasn't falling for it.

“I just wanted to see what time you get off of work.”

“That's why they invented the phone. You could've called or texted.” I folded my arms across my chest and gave him a look to let him know that I didn't have time for any BS.

“Since when have I done anything that ordinary folks do?”

“Whatever, J. Love. Again, what do you want?”

“You. You looked beautiful last night. I would've given anything to have had you on my arm. For real.”

I pulled him to the side, out of hearing range of Liz's nosey behind. “What's with you? What part of ‘I'm in a relationship' do you not get?”

He tried to hug me, but I stepped back, away from his embrace.

“Babe, enough with the charity work. You've proven your point. Now come home to daddy,” he said. He tried to seem like he was joking, but I could tell that he really wasn't.

I actually was offended by his words. Alvin wasn't charity.

“Excuse me, you don't know anything about my guy. I'll have you know—”

“Whoa, whoa.” He held up his hands. “Before you start going off, I just want you to know that I was just messing with you. I don't mean to disrespect your man. I just wanted to know if you could come with me.”

“Come with you where, J. Love?” I asked, exasperated.

“I'm performing at the Grammys and I need a date,” he said with a confident smile.

I gave him a serious side eye.
The Grammys?

“Seriously,” he said, reading the doubt on my face. “I'm performing.”

Performing? Wow. My mom would so not feel me going to L.A. with J. Love, but how could I pass up a chance to go to the Grammys with one of the performers?
Because you have a boyfriend, that's how,
the little voice in my head quickly reminded me.

“I'm sure you don't have any problems getting a date,” I finally said.

“I need a date as fine as you,” he said. With a big grin on his face, he continued. “My publicist didn't like me rollin' solo to the Icon Awards. She told me to get someone like Meagan Good or Keke Palmer or even Demi Lovato, but I told her that none of them measure up to you.”

“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes again. I had to give it to him—J. Love had major game, even though it didn't work on me.

“Aww,” Liz said. I shot her a look to get out of my conversation.

I turned back to him and let out a long, heavy sigh. “J. Love, I'm in a relationship. I can't be going to your events with you.”

“We're friends, aren't we? You can't go as my friend? Come on, Maya. It's good pub for us both.”

My hands went to my hips. “So, that's why you want me to go? Because it's good pub for us both?”

“No. I want you to go because you know how I feel about you. But yes, I love the way you look on my arm and you have to admit, I look good on your arm, too.”

He was right about that, and I needed something to offset that horrible picture that had been on the front of the
Miami Hot Gossip
magazine this morning. They had gotten the worst-looking picture of Alvin they could find and plastered it all over the cover. It was utterly disgusting.

“Just come as my friend,” he continued. “It's a chance to see and be seen in L.A. I mean, I know you're large already, but this is your chance to take it to the next level—I'm talking some Oprah/Wendy type of stuff.”

Oprah? Wendy?
J. knew just what to say to get to me.

“Let me think about it,” I finally said, even though I already knew I was going to try to do everything in my power to go. I just needed to figure out how.

He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, and then he took my hand and dropped something in the middle of it. “Let this Tiffany necklace help you think about it.”

“Boy, I can buy my own Tiff—oh my God, this is the new platinum collection,” I said, holding up the necklace. “It isn't even out yet.”

“It is for J. Love.” He winked, his confidence on full display. “Hopefully, you won't keep me waiting too long. I'll talk to you later.” He left me standing there in the middle of the lobby.

As I turned to head back inside, Liz said, “If you don't want the necklace, I'll take it.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “I bet you would,” I said as I wrapped the necklace around my neck and headed back to my office.

Chapter 10

T
oday was just a research day at the station, which meant we weren't taping. I was just digging for information. I usually hated research days, but I was actually in a good mood today. I had finally gotten an A on a freaking test. And Alvin had surprised me by paying for my senior portraits. Of course, it wasn't the money that was a big deal. It was the thought. I smiled as I thought of how Alvin was always doing sweet things. Even though he wasn't as rich as J., he was still rich and could afford to buy me whatever I wanted. But it was the thoughtful little things he did that made his gestures so sweet.

I quickly shook off that thought. Where had that come from? I'd had a nice time at the Icon Awards with Alvin, even though I'd almost died several times when people noticed me sitting in the balcony. But overall, it wasn't as bad as I'd thought it would be. So, I had convinced myself that I was going to have to pass on J.'s offer, no matter how bad I wanted to go.

I rounded the corner and bumped into Nelly Fulton, a fairly new girl at our school and the winner of the
X Factor
last season. She might have just transferred to our school, but she bounced around here like she was the star of Miami High.

“Oh, hey, Nelly,” I said. Nelly was a blond, doe-eyed beauty who reminded me of an edgier Carrie Underwood. She was a pop singer and had been an
X Factor
favorite from the start. She'd captured America's heart with her sob story: an orphan after a tragic accident took the lives of her parents, she was homeless in New York until someone heard her singing and suggested she try out for
X Factor
. Personally, her whole backstory sounded contrived to me, but it had worked and she'd won hands down. I'd heard she had come to Miami High because her record producer and her foster parents lived here and they insisted that she finish high school.

“Hi, Maya,” Nelly sang.

“What are you doing up here at the station?” I asked.

“Oh, I'm leaving a meeting,” she said with that stupid grin. She always wore that stupid grin.

“What kind of meeting?”

She made a motion like she was zipping her lips. “It's top secret.”

I don't know what it was about Nelly, but I wasn't feeling her. She seemed so phony to me. She reminded me of these creatures from this movie I saw called
Gremlins.
They looked all sweet and cute, but would bite you as soon as you let your guard down.

“Wish I could tell you, but I can't,” she added.

I bet they were trying to bring some type of singing show to the station for her to host. I'd heard some rumors about that. Whatever, as long as they didn't mess with my show.

“Okay, well, good luck with your meeting,” I said, making my way on back to my office. I'd been in the archive room looking for some background information on another story I was working on.

I really couldn't be concerned with Nelly right now. My research days were supposed to be spent finding stories, and I was starting to bleed my story well dry.

I'd already exposed the cheerleaders at my school for taking part in a little cheerleading escort service. I'd blown the cover off the Bling Ring, a group of kids from my school that used to go around breaking into celebrities' homes. And, I'd gotten to the bottom of a new drug that was sweeping Miami called K2 (that's the drama Travis got me caught up in. Turns out, he was unknowingly selling the deadly drug). But since I'd done all of that, not to mention interviews with all the celebs that contacted me on their own, I'd run some pretty cool stories. I didn't know how I was supposed to keep digging up stories of that caliber. And to be honest, as much as I loved my job, I was starting to feel like that was getting kind of old. I was ready for my next challenge in life. The problem was, I didn't know what that challenge was.

My thoughts were interrupted when I saw Kennedi trying to FaceTime me. I slid the button to connect and said, “Hello, K.”

“Hey, what are you doing?” she asked.

“Just working. What are you doing?”

She sighed heavily. “I just got off the phone with Kendrick.”

I fought back my groan. Kendrick was Kennedi's ex. She loved him like crazy. She loved him so much, it had made her crazy and she'd found herself right in the middle of an abusive relationship. And Kennedi had turned out to be the main one doing the abusing. Her parents had made her go to therapy because Kennedi had dang near lost her mind behind that boy. I thought she had come to terms with her obsessive behavior with Kendrick, or at least she'd told the therapist that she'd come to terms. But talking with him now couldn't be a good thing.

My silence must've concerned her because she said, “Don't worry. My therapist suggested I call and apologize as a way to heal. So I did. He tried to talk about us getting together, and I turned him down.”

“Wow,” I replied. “I'm proud of you, girl.” I knew that must have been hard for her.

“Yeah, anyway, I was just trying to see if you decided what to do about J. Love. I heard them talking about you on the radio this morning.”

I fell back in my chair. “Saying what?” That was the flip side of fame. Everybody always felt the right to weigh in on your life.

“They were talking about how hot J. Love was on the morning show and how he's performing at the Grammys. Are you going with him?” she asked. “Because the deejay said you were.”

That made me sit straight up. “He said what?”

“Okay, let me correct that. He said if you had any sense, you'd go. They were joking about how J. Love could have any girl he wants but for some reason he's obsessed with you.”

“What does that mean, ‘for some reason'? Duh, he's obsessed with me because I'm fabulous.”

Kennedi laughed, then abruptly stopped. “But are you going, though?”

I sighed. “You know I want to, but . . .”

“But . . . you have a boyfriend. I know.” She shook her head. “You're surprising me, Maya. I would've never expected you to give up the diva life to be domestic.” She stopped and looked over her shoulder as someone yelled something I couldn't make out. “Girl, that's my mom yelling about something. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later.”

She disconnected the video call and left me sitting at my desk, stunned.
Domestic?
My BFF might as well have called me a scandalous trick. Because the day Maya Morgan ever became known as domestic was the day she needed to make some serious changes.