The List (11 page)

“W
ha . . . wha . . . what are you doing here?” I sputtered.

“Ummm, the same thing everyone else is doing here.” He eyed me strangely. “Worshipping God and getting some good Word.”

“But why here? You don't go here. You go to . . .” the name of his church escaped me.

He dropped his head and looked past me. “Can you meet me out front after the benediction? There's something I should tell you.”

I nodded and headed back down the row to my seat next to Nicole.

She leaned over to me and whispered, “What's with you today? Clinging to the usher during prayer then hugging Mr. Hottie in the aisle. Do we need to get some anointing oil?”

“I wasn't clinging or hugging,” I hissed back.

Her eyes widened. I guess I was a little rude. She made one of her cat-claw gestures at me and mouthed her little cat growl. I laughed and elbowed her.

After the benediction, I was torn between standing around to be introduced to Angela's new guy, or meeting Jason on the front steps. It would be rude to leave him out there waiting. And I had already seen enough to know what I needed to know about Gary.

“Meet you guys out front,” I said to Nicole as I attempted to scoot past her toward the aisle.

“Aren't you gonna stay and meet—”

“Gotta take care of something. I'll meet him in a minute.”

She nodded and let me by.

I spotted him before he saw me coming. It was definitely not a good day to be seeing Jason. Not looking as good as he always looked. I didn't remember smelling his cologne during our brief bump in the aisle, but I couldn't imagine him leaving home without it. Sure enough, as I stepped closer to him, I smelled it. His pure testosterone cologne and the super potent estrogen flooding my veins were not a good combination.

He gave me quick hug. He had never hugged me before, but I guessed being at church made him feel like it was the appropriate thing to do. It must have felt like hugging a board because I made no attempt at hugging him back.

“Good to see you, Michelle. You okay?” He looked into my eyes in that way of his, and I cast them downward so he couldn't see what was lurking beneath.

“Yeah, I'm great—praise the Lord. Blessed and highly favored.” Lovely. I sounded super-religious. “I'm fine. How are you? What are you doing here?”

I wished I could take back the question, to avoid the conversation it would lead to. I guess we had to have it some time, but I'd rather it was within the professional boundaries of work rather than here, after church, where Jason felt like it was okay to hug me.

“I don't know if you know this or not, but my wife divorced me.” He said it like he was embarrassed.

I started to pretend not to know, but that would seem like a lie. On the church steps. “Someone mentioned it, Jason. I did notice your ring was gone.” Great, Michelle.
Must
learn to think before we speak. Didn't want him to realize I made a regular practice of eyeing men's ring fingers. Especially his.

Was that a smile? Was he smiling because I admitted I noticed his ring was gone? Oh, God help me.

“Yeah. It's true. So, I figured I needed a new church. Even though my ex didn't go much, I didn't want to be at the same church anymore. You always talk about how great yours is, so I decided to check it out.”

“It is great and I'm glad you came. Did you enjoy the service?”
Please say no. Please say no.

He nodded and grinned. The dimpled, perfect-teeth grin. “Yeah. It was better than you described. I know I'll definitely be back.”

“Oh, how wonderful. I'm glad you enjoyed it.”
Oh, how terrible
.
I wish you had hated it.

He looked around for a second and loosened his tie. “So, what do you usually do after church?”

I froze.
Oh, God, please don't let Jason ask me out.

“Wanna grab a bite to eat?”

As if God suddenly understood His need to demonstrate that He was paying me some attention, Nicole and Lisa emerged through the church doors.

I tried not to exhale my relief too loudly. “Me and my girls always go out for dinner after church. Every Sunday. It's our tradition. For years now.” I pointed to them. “Here they come.”

He looked over my shoulder in the direction I had pointed. “Oh. Okay.” He tugged at his tie again. “I guess I better get home anyway. Latrice will be bringing the girls home soon, and I need to get ready for the school week.”

It took a second for his words to register. “You have your girls?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I got full custody. When she left, she left all of us. She picks them up for the occasional weekend, when she's not traveling with . . .” He looked down at his feet. “But it's okay. I've got enough love for my girls to make up for it. They are definitely Daddy's girls. Even before all this happened.”

I wanted to hug him. To embrace away the pain I knew he had experienced in the last year. It was the same as mine, except he was left taking care of his two daughters. My respect for him jumped twenty points in the last five minutes. Unfortunately, so had my attraction to him. Would it be so bad to date someone from work?

I reached out to touch Jason's arm. It seemed cold-hearted not to offer some sort of comfort after such a conversation.

Bad decision. Felt like Jason had been working out his pain in the gym like I had in the year after my divorce.

Do Jesus.
All of a sudden, cold-hearted didn't seem so bad compared to hot-in-the-pants.

Since I had already reached out and touched, I went ahead with my attempt at comfort. “Sorry for all you've been through, Jason. I know how hard it must be. Well, the divorce part. I can't imagine raising two kids on my own.” I rubbed my hand up and down his thick bicep. Comforting Jason was going to have me up all night, fanning. “I'm sure you're a great father, and I know God is taking care of all of you.”

“Thanks, Michelle. That means a lot coming from you.” He looked at me with those deep eyes of his.

I stood there staring into them for a few minutes. I think I would have fallen in if I hadn't heard Nicole's voice in my right ear.

“Michelle, who's your friend?”

I ripped my eyes away from Jason's and had to blink for a few minutes to focus on Nicole's face to answer her question. “This is Jason. My editor. Actually, my right hand at work. I don't know what I'd do without him.”

“Is that so?” Nicole smiled and reached out to shake Jason's extended hand.

I turned out of Jason's view to glare at her so she would know she needed to be on her best behavior because the wrong words from that mouth of hers could end, or at least badly damage, our friendship. Her eyebrows rose slightly as she acknowledged my non-verbal threat.

“Jason, this is Nicole and Lisa. Two of my best friends in the whole world.”

“Great to meet both of you.” Jason shook Lisa's hand after he let go of Nicole's. “I'm taking off. You guys, enjoy your lunch.”

“Our lunch?” Lisa frowned and looked at Jason, then at me.

Thoughts of murdering Lisa on the church steps raced through my mind.

Jason grinned. “Yeah. You guys probably didn't know it, but you're going out to lunch with Michelle today. You guys always go out to lunch together after church. It's your tradition. For years.”

Was that mischief in his eyes? Yes, it was. And pure amusement at busting me in a lie.

He sauntered down a couple of steps then turned around. “I guess we'll have lunch tomorrow at work, Michelle. See ya then.” He gave one last dimpled smile, waved and turned back around and left.

As soon as he was out of earshot, I glared at Lisa. “Our lunch?” I mocked her voice. “You couldn't play along? You had to bust me out like that?”

Lisa put a hand on her hip. “How was I to know you were out here lying on the church steps after such an anointed service?”

Lisa and Nicole spoke at the same time. “Who is he? . . . editor? . . . girl, he is too fine . . . how come you never told us about him before? . . . right-hand man? . . . is he taken? . . .”

I held up a hand to ward off their questions. “It's complicated, and I don't want to talk about it. Where's Angela? Did you guys meet Gary?”

They both stood there with their mouths open.

“Don't want to talk about it? Oh no. That's in total violation of every girlfriend rule there is. You can't have a cutie like that up in your life and not share some details.” Lisa's neck was twisting and her finger pointing. “No secrets among girlfriends. Nine years and never, remember?”

Nicole laughed. “And I thought you were working long hours because you were so dedicated to your job.”

I closed my eyes and rubbed the back of my neck. “Fine. I'll tell you guys about it over lunch.” Probably wasn't a good idea for me to go home with the feel of Jason's bicep still pulsing through my fingers. Cold pizza and hot loins was not a good combination.

“Oh, yeah.” Nicole smirked. “We wouldn't want to mess up our tradition.”

“Ha, ha, ha.” I sneered at Nicole.

Lisa grabbed me by the arm. “Let's go back inside and say goodbye to Angela and Gary, and then we'll go to Paschal's.”

I resisted. “What if she doesn't want us to meet him? To avoid having to go through what you just put me through.”

Lisa's eyes widened. “Put you through?” She rolled her eyes. “We already met him. Angela was looking for you, too. She didn't understand why you left.” Lisa pulled me up the steps. “Wait 'til I tell her why.”

T
he next day, I came to work armed with my excuse for why I couldn't join Jason for lunch. And this time, it was the truth. Sort of.

Sorry for lying yesterday, God.
And on the church steps after an anointed service. Perhaps having no idea what the sermon was about due to my drooling over men all morning had something to do with it.

At noon, when Jason gave his usual rap on my door to signify that it was time for lunch, I didn't look up from my computer.

He stuck his head in the door. “Ready?”

I waved a hand, still focused on the screen, pretending to be overwhelmingly distracted. “You go 'head. I'm in a flow and I don't want to break my concentration.”

“Really? Whatcha workin' on?” He stepped his full body into my office.

So much for my concentration. Even if it was fake. “The promo for Rayshawn's next show. I need it to be flawless 'cause I have a feeling she's looking for a reason. If I stay focused, I can finish it by tonight.”

“Or if we go grab some lunch, you can fuel your brain while we talk about it, and we can come back and finish it together.”

He was relentless today. Usually, if I said I was working on something, he'd ask if I wanted him to bring something back, take my order, then leave.

Most of the time, I went, though. Jason, Erica, and I ate lunch together at our favorite little sandwich shop down the street at least three times a week. Gave me some much-needed time to unwind and for us to toss ideas around. Me and Jason bantered back and forth while Erika took notes between bites of food. By the time we got back to the office, we usually had completed whatever the project of the day was.

But that was when we were just co-workers. Before he became single and available.

“Jason, why don't you grab me my usual sandwich, chips, and a drink. That would be a big help.” Not once had I taken my eyes off the computer to look at him. I had pretty much taken the horny monster out in prayer last night, but didn't want to give him a chance to rise up again.

Instead of leaving like he should, Jason shut my door and walked over to my desk. He stood there for a second. When I didn't look up, he put his face directly above the computer screen. “What's with you lately?”

“Huh?” I said, still typing away. I prayed he wouldn't look down at the screen. If he did, I'd be totally busted. I had been typing the same sentence over and over since he entered the room.

“Michelle.” He said it firmly, almost demanding my attention.

At that point, it would have been rude not to look up. So I did. Right into his eyes. I thought of all the poems I'd read about eyes being pools of this, or rivers of that, or deep wells of the other, all references to bodies of water I could drown in. That's how Jason's eyes felt to me.

“Huh?” I said again.

“What is up with you? You've been acting strange lately.” The concern in his eyes made my heart flutter a little. I wondered what it felt like to have a man care about me like his eyes said he did.

“Nothing's wrong, Jason. Just want to make sure this is straight. Don't want to give Rayshawn any reasons. Not that she needs any. Remember that time she came in here ranting and raving about—”

“I know all that.” He waved a hand at me. “Are you sure that's all?”

“Yeah. Of course. You know my work is my life.”
Great, Michelle. Way to sound lonely and desperate.
How in the world did I let this guy—married until last week for all I knew—get to know me so well?

“I know that. Not sure it's healthy, but I do know. Okay, if you say that's all it is.” He walked over and put a hand on my door to leave. I thought I was home free until he said, “So why'd you lie about your Sunday after-church lunch tradition with your girlfriends yesterday?”

“Huh?”

“Don't
huh
me. Your girlfriend—the tall one—had no idea what I was talking about when I said, ‘Enjoy your lunch.' Can't be much of a tradition.”

I let out a deep breath. Tried to think of a lie Jason would actually believe.

He sat down in the chair again, a tiny grin forming in the corners of his mouth.

And mercifully, He did. The door flew open. It was Erika. “Michelle, get yourself together, girl. Ms. Carter asked to have you come to the conference room. I think it's time to announce the fall lineup.”

Me and the other producers filed into the conference room, all trying to be cool but anxiously awaiting Ms. Carter's arrival. I sat with my hands folded, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Especially Rayshawn. She had a smug look on her face that said she expected to continue reigning as the queen of BTV.

After what seemed like forever, Ms. Carter finally entered. She had a large file folder in her hands and moved slowly, as if she wasn't carrying our future in that durn folder.

I took a few deep breaths. I felt the Holy Spirit nudging me like, “Here comes the great news. You're in there.” I imagined myself elbowing Him back, telling Him to calm down and not get too excited, just in case my shows weren't chosen. Kinda silly, seeing that He knew everything about everything.

Ms. Carter took her seat at the head of the table, sat for a few moments, then opened the folder. The air was tense with anticipation. She smiled a calm, even smile. “Good afternoon, everyone. Sorry for the short notice on the meeting. I'm flying out to New York tomorrow to meet with the investors and the other VP's. I wanted to have this discussion before we left, so things can start moving. First off, I want to say thanks to everyone for your hard work on your treatments. I appreciate the time and creativity that went into every one. Secondly, there were many great shows presented and if you're not in the fall lineup, that doesn't mean that your show won't be used at another time.”

I tried to prepare myself for my show not being picked, but the Holy Spirit wouldn't allow the sinking feeling to settle in my stomach.

Ms. Carter continued, “Finally, as you know, even with the funds coming in, we're still on a very tight budget for production. If you're assigned a show, I want you to think long and hard about what it will require. A lot more hours with not much increase in pay. I hope you can appreciate the fact that we're building something special in this station and any shows chosen will be foundational for the network. It can lead to other opportunities within this network and elsewhere. Hopefully, that thought will be enough to carry you through the long hours that will be required to pull this off. If you count up the cost and decide it's not for you, we'll understand. If you do produce a show, know that your work won't go unrewarded and that, as the company grows, you will be compensated.” She looked around the table to see our responses.

Everyone nodded. No one spoke. They probably all felt the same as me. Enough with the speech. Get to the shows.

“All right, then. The fall lineup . . .”

I held my breath as she announced the shows. To kill us with further suspense, she didn't announce them one by one. She had to stop and discuss each one, making production assignments. I tried to be patient, but after the third show, I started to wonder how many they had chosen. What if I didn't get picked? I'd have to go back to promos and produce spots for these shows she was announcing.

“Next.
Indie Artist
. Michelle Bradford will serve as producer with the oversight of Mark Jackson as senior producer. I think you'll work well together, and I think it has the potential to be a great show. Michelle, if you'd like, you can keep your production assistant and editor, or we can assign someone else if there's anyone you'd prefer.”

I tried not to sound too excited. “I'll stick with Jason and Erika. We work well together. Thank you.” I pretended not to hear Rayshawn clear her throat.

I faded out as Ms. Carter announced the next shows. The wheels in my mind were spinning. I had a show. I was going to produce my own show. I looked over at Mark. He would be cool to work with. And I'd get to keep Jason and Erika. I started thinking about the artists I would call first. I could hardly keep still. I wanted Ms. Carter to hurry and finish with the show announcements, so I could share the news with Jason and Erika.

“Is that okay with you, Michelle?”

I looked up to see Ms. Carter and the other producers looking at me.

“I'm sorry.” How embarrassing to be caught not paying attention in the meeting.

Ms. Carter smiled. “I guess you tuned me out, thinking about
Indie Artist
. I said I really liked the idea for
Destiny's Child
. I want to launch it in the fall lineup as well. I think it would be too much for Mark to do three shows, so I wanted to you to produce it, with Rayshawn as the senior producer.”

That would explain Rayshawn's need to pick her face up off the table. I was speechless. Both of my shows were being picked? I never imagined I'd have two. But to have to work with Rayshawn? To have her produce a show she tried to squash at the pitch meeting? The one nearest and dearest to my heart? It was almost like asking someone else to raise my child. An evil person with no morals or scruples that I had no respect for.

It wasn't like I was going to say no. “Wow. Uh, sure. That sounds great. I could learn a lot working with Rayshawn.” I gave her my most admiring face. Tried to focus on the fact that I respected her as a producer. It was going to be challenging. I'd have to look at it as an opportunity for spiritual growth.

The scowl on Rayshawn's face made me realize something else. She'd be producing my show because neither of hers had been picked. Ouch. I wasn't going to be her favorite person for a while.

I looked at the two other producers whose shows hadn't been picked. They did a better job than Rayshawn at hiding their disdain, but I could tell they weren't too happy with me either. It would be hard enough working long hours to produce the shows on a tight budget. I didn't need hateration from the other producers I was so glad to be joining the ranks with.

I squared my shoulders and sat up. The favor of God had gotten me here, and I wasn't about to shrink back. He put me here for a reason. To fulfill His vision to change the face of black television. I had His mind, and that's why my ideas got picked. I wasn't about to be sorry for that.

After Ms. Carter finished the meeting with final comments and instructions, we all stood to leave. Mark came over to congratulate me. One of his shows had been picked, so he'd be working on his and mine. We made plans to sit down and start some budgeting and planning. A few of the other producers congratulated me and patted me on the back. Ms. Carter nodded in my direction and then left the room.

I knew the right thing to do would be to go make nice with Rayshawn, but the evil glare she shot me wasn't the least bit inviting. She was huddled up with her girl, and they were talking fast and looking in my direction.

I decided to be the bigger person and walked over to where they were. “Rayshawn, I'm really looking forward to working with you. You're a great producer, and I'm glad to have the chance to learn from you.” I hoped kissing her tail would work. She seemed to like it when everyone worshipped the ground she walked on.

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah. I'm sure you'll be spending most of your time working on your other show with Mark. Why don't you have your assistant send me a copy of your treatment and I'll take it from there?”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. I plan on working very closely with you, so I can learn all I can. I'm sure you enjoy sharing your wealth of knowledge on producing.” No way in the world I was going to turn over my show to her to twist it into whatever she wanted. She'd turn all my inner city kids into video hoochies.

She scowled again as I walked off. I wanted to tell her to be careful making those ugly faces because her face would get stuck like that. I bit my lip and walked out the door, eager to find Erika and Jason and tell them the good news.