Fortune & Fame: A Novel (6 page)

“Yes, didn’t I tell you?”

“Uh . . . no.” Jasmine blinked several times, thoughts already clicking in her mind.

“I can’t figure out how I missed that. I’m sorry,” Melinda said, speaking to Jasmine, but looking at Mae Frances. “We were
going to do the show in Houston, but now that we’ve added you, we didn’t feel that it would be fair for you to move to Houston. And since Rachel was first, it wouldn’t be fair to bring her to New York. So, we thought it best to film in a neutral location.”

“Atlanta!” Jasmine said as her lips spread into a smile. This couldn’t be anymore perfect. “Well, like I said, let me talk to Hosea. I think I’ll be able to work something out.”

“I’m sure you will,” Mae Frances added, “now.”

Jasmine shot her friend a look that was meant to keep her quiet, though Jasmine wasn’t sure that was possible. “I’ll talk to Hosea,” Jasmine said again. “If we can work out the timing and the scene is right, I think he’ll be glad to do it.”

“Okay.” Melinda looked down at her notes once again and added, “I guess the last thing is your son and daughter. Will they be on the show?”

Jasmine bit the corner of her lip. She hadn’t thought about that. Did she want to expose Jacqueline and Zaya to all of this? “I’m not sure. I really wouldn’t want my children involved in anything messy.”

“Messy?” Mae Frances spoke up. “Didn’t you hear what Melinda said? This is gonna be
class
all the way. Class. With you and that Adams chick. Class.” Mae Frances laughed again.

Jasmine rolled her eyes at her friend. To Melinda she said, “Well, as long as I have editing approval for each episode, then my kids can be in.”

Melinda shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. We’re not going to be able to let any of the principals have that kind of control. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Well, I’ll have to talk to my husband then. Because we really believe in protecting our children.”

Melinda nodded. “I understand. Especially with everything that your daughter’s been through—”

“That is not going to be on the show,” Jasmine snapped, wondering if Melinda was taking another shot at her. Because
if she was, Jasmine was going to turn Mae Frances loose and by the time Mae Frances finished, forget about the
Today
show and
Good Morning America,
Melinda would be crying on CNN, MSNBC, and on FOX.

“No, no,” Melinda said quickly. Her eyes widened as Mae Frances leaned forward in her chair again. “Definitely not. We would never exploit your daughter.” Melinda paused. As if she needed to put in a little extra, she said, “I was just asking about her because I hope she’s doing well.”

Jasmine inhaled. “She’s fine, thank you.” Then, she exhaled. She was sorry that she’d gone off like that, but there was no way she could help it. That was now just a part of who she was. Anytime she was taken back to that dark place, that dark time, when her five-year-old angel had been kidnapped and taken away for weeks by a pedophile, she became crazy.

“Well, I’m glad that she’s recovering.”

Jasmine peered at Melinda. After a moment, she said, “Thank you.”

Melinda closed the portfolio that held her notepad. “Well, I think that’s all I have.” She glanced at Mae Frances first, then spoke to Jasmine, “I hope I didn’t upset you. I didn’t mean to. I was just thinking about what happened to your daughter and how you turned something that was so bad into something so good.” She took a breath. “I have to say that I really am impressed with the work that you’re doing with Jacqueline’s Hope and missing children. And maybe . . . maybe we can talk about Jacqueline’s Hope on the show.”

If this was just a ploy to get out of the way of Mae Frances’s wrath, it was working. Jasmine smiled. “That would be great. I want more exposure for my foundation.”

“Okay!” Melinda exhaled like she’d redeemed herself all the way. “I’m glad we’re ending on a good note.”

“Me, too.” Jasmine pushed back her chair, stood, and Mae Frances did the same. “So, if we’re done here.”

“Actually, I was hoping for one more thing.” Melinda glanced at her watch. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting. . . .”

There was a knock on the door.

Melinda smiled. “Right on time.” She stood. “I have a little surprise for you, Jasmine.” Turning toward the door, Melinda yelled out, “Come in.”

Jasmine watched as the door slowly pushed open. Then, her eyes widened.

“Melinda,” Natasia said as she stepped inside the conference room.

“Yes, come on in.” Melinda’s grin was wide when she turned to Jasmine. “Surprise! The EP of the show is going to be . . . Natasia Redding. You two know each other, right?”

Melinda beamed as if she’d just brought two long-lost friends together. But she was the only one in the room feeling any kind of joy.

Natasia stared.

Jasmine glared.

And Mae Frances shouted, “Oh, lawd,” as she fell back in her chair. “Up popped the devil!”

M
ommy, where are you going?”

Rachel zipped the last of her Louis Vuitton luggage and set the suitcase on the floor. She picked up her four-year-old son, Lewis, and marveled at how big the little boy was getting.

“Sweetie, Mommy told you. I’m going to Atlanta to be a star.”

“But you already a star,” Lewis said with a big innocent grin.

Rachel toussled the little boy’s hair. How she loved this little boy, as if she’d given birth to him herself. Her bond with Lewis was just as strong as it was to her biological children, Nia, Jordan, and Brooklyn.

Rachel and Lester had agreed that one day they would tell Lewis about his biological mother, Mary Richardson, but not until he was able to handle it. If Rachel had her way, she’d never say a word, but Lewis was biracial and would no doubt have questions once he realized his skin tone was different from his siblings. In the meantime, they would continue to shower the little boy with love and let him know that he was as much a part of their family as anyone else.

“So, you’re really going to leave?” Nia asked, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, a scowl across her face. Brooklyn stood next to her.

“Honey, we’ve already talked about this.” Rachel motioned for her eight-year-old daughter to come sit on the bed next to her. “It’s not going to be that long. I’m just going to go down, shoot some scenes, and maybe we’ll even fly you all down and shoot some stuff with you.”

“So, I get to be on TV, too?” Nia asked, finally breaking a smile as Brooklyn climbed on the bed next to her.

“Yes,” Rachel replied.

“No,” Lester interjected as he appeared in the doorway to their bedroom. “Rachel, we’ve already had this conversation. You doing this reality show is one thing. But you having our children on is another thing entirely, and where I draw the line.”

“Seriously, Lester? It’s just an innocent reality show.” Rachel huffed.

“There’s nothing innocent about those shows.”

“Daddy, why won’t you let me be on it?” Nia whined.

“Yeah, I wanna be a star like Mommy,” Brooklyn added.

Rachel pulled both of her daughters close to her. “See, it’s a Family Affair.”

Lester narrowed his eyes at her. She knew he wasn’t happy. He hated when she used the children like this, but he needed to see that what she was doing was for the good of their entire family. Lester had already carved a niche for himself as president of the American Baptist Coalition and she’d done well as the First Lady, creating programs and bringing some much-needed (and yes, a little unwanted) attention to the ABC. But this would take things to a whole different level. This would make her a power player. This would give her fame and a little fortune on the side. But it’s the fame she wanted more than anything else. Although she liked the finer things in life—Coach,
Michael Kors, an occasional trip to the Bahamas—Rachel didn’t need a lot. But fame, that was a completely different ballgame. The fame would make people stand up and take notice. She had grown up as the preacher’s daughter. Now, she was the preacher’s wife. If this reality show went like she expected, she would be simply Rachel, the star.

“Nia, take your sister and brother and go play upstairs,” Lester said.

“But Dad . . .” Nia cried.

“Not open for discussion,” he said firmly.

Rachel kissed all of her children. “I’m not going to leave without coming to talk to you. Do like your father said.”

As they scurried out, Rachel stood and glared at her husband. When she first met Lester, he was a pimply faced, red-mop-headed, shy boy. Now, he’d definitely evolved into a full-grown man with a backbone that sometimes worked her nerves. Even though Nia and Jordan weren’t his biologically, he prided himself on being a good father to them, so Rachel knew that he was just trying to protect the kids.

Lester had gotten a lot more firm with her than he’d been in the early years of their marriage, but Rachel still knew how to win him over. She just chose her battles a little more wisely, and whether or not to have the kids on the reality show was not a battle she wanted to fight—just yet.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart. The kids won’t be on the show. More air time for me.” She planted a sultry kiss on him and he pulled her close.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you, too. But I’ll be back in a few weeks. They wanted my family to come down and shoot a few scenes but I understand you don’t want to be on. I guess the producers will just have to hire me a family.”

Lester’s mouth gaped open. “What? They do that?”

“If they have to.” Rachel knew that ultimately, Lester would
never go for that kind of deception, so she wanted to plant that little seed so that it would fester and get him to agree with her eventually.

“Well, I guess I’d better get going,” she said.

“Let me go grab my keys.”

“Oh, no. I have a car service coming.”

“A car service?” Lester balked. “What kind of sense does that make when I’m right here?”

“It makes a lot of sense because that’s how we stars roll,” Rachel tweaked his cheek before zipping her overnight kit. “Besides, Oprah is paying for it.”

He laughed. “Oh, Oprah is paying for it?”

“Oprah, OWN, whatever. We’re not footing the bill.”

“Okay, babe.” It was then that Lester noticed a package on the bed, next to a stack of flyers. “What’s this?” He looked at the package, then at Rachel. “Addressed to Mary?”

“Just some pictures of Lewis.” Rachel shrugged nonchalantly.

He looked at her in admiration. “I think it’s great how you continue sending her pictures.”

“Well, of course I don’t want her getting any ideas, but as a mother, I’d want to see my child. Even if it was just a picture.” Rachel had wrestled with that decision, especially because she couldn’t stand that tramp, Mary. But Lewis couldn’t help it that he was a product of that slug. And at the end of the day, Mary was essentially going to rot in prison, so Rachel saw no harm in sending her photos.

“Have I ever told you how awesome you are?” Lester asked.

“Not nearly enough.” She kissed him, and then made her way over to the walk-in closet to get a pair of shoes she’d forgotten.

When she walked back out, Lester had picked up a flyer and was reading it. “ ‘Stay tuned for
The First Lady,
coming soon to OWN.’ Wow, they’ve gotten flyers printed already?”

Rachel leaned over and examined the flyer. “You like?” It
was a picture of her standing in front of Harpo Studios. Well, she wasn’t actually in front of the studio. She’d just had it Photoshopped in the background but her graphic designer had done such an awesome job, it looked like she was right there.

“That’s just a little something I had printed,” she said.

“So, you had these printed?” Lester asked.

“Yes. You like?”

“How are you going to have something printed on your own?”

A mischievous grin spread across Rachel’s face. “I just emailed one to Jasmine.”

Lester shook his head. “Why would you do that?”

“Because since we’re halfway cool now, I wanted her to hear about the show from me.” Rachel expected to have heard from Jasmine by now. Everyone was talking about the
Access Hollywood
interview, but Jasmine still hadn’t reached out to her.

Lester turned his lips up. “Really, Rachel? You’re sending her a flyer?”

“Okay, there’s a part of me that wanted to make sure she knew,” Rachel admitted. “I wish I could be there to see the look on her face.” Rachel laughed.

Lester dropped the flyer back on the bed. “You guys have some kind of friendship. And I hope you don’t get in trouble when they see it.”

Rachel put her purse strap over her shoulder, grabbed her carry-on, slid her sunglasses on, and said, “I keep trying to tell you, baby, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Now, grab my suitcases, I’m ready to roll!”

L
adies and gentlemen, as we begin to make our final approach into Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, please bring your seat backs into the full upright position.”

With her eyes still closed, Natasia pressed the button in the console next to her seat and eased herself upright. Those words had come much too soon. How could two hours have passed so quickly?

Her plan had been to get on this plane, find her seat in first class, and then sleep from wheels up to wheels down. But she hadn’t been able to sleep a minute of the two-hour flight. Sleep had treated her like the enemy and had stayed away, just like it had all the nights since she’d been in New York.

She sighed and shook her head as that New York scene once again played in her mind.

Ambushed!

That was the only way to describe how Natasia had felt. The ambush-
er
had become the ambush-
ee
. And Natasia didn’t appreciate being on the other side of someone’s trick. A couple
of weeks had passed, but the memory of that day at the OWN corporate offices still made her shudder.

*  *  *

Natasia stepped into the room, but the scene in front of her did not compute. Then, the old woman, wearing that mangled furry coat, spoke up.