Truth or Dare (9 page)

Y
eah, I had an attitude and I wasn't even bothering to try and hide it. All this hype about Evian was working my last nerve.

“Hey, Maya, do you need anything?” my assistant, Yolanda, asked me. Yolanda was my right hand, and after my disastrous previous assistants (another long story), I was grateful to have her.

“Yeah, I need you to make this story with Evian disappear,” I snarled as I tossed my scripts on to my desk. Yolanda could make a lot of stuff happen, but I knew she wouldn't be capable of that. Unfortunately.

She laughed as she looked at the TV screen in the corner of my office. “Yeah, I know. She really is milking it for all it's worth.”

“Tell me about it,” I said as I side-eyed the TV.

Evian was being interviewed by Terrence J on
Entertainment Tonight
, and she was bringing it full force. The dramatics, the tears. You could've sworn that she had been kidnapped by aliens or something. After my interview yesterday, she'd done
The Today Show
and
Good Morning America
.

“Whatever,” I said, turning the TV off. “She needs to enjoy her fifteen minutes of fame because it's about to be up.”

Yolanda shook her head doubtfully. “No, it looks like she's parlayed that fifteen minutes into something major.” Yolanda caught herself and her smile faded when she saw the way I was looking at her.

“Um, well, if you don't need anything else I'm going to be going,” she stammered, before scurrying out of my office.

“Yeah, you do that,” I snapped. I didn't mean to be going off on her, but I was in a foul mood since yesterday. Dexter and Tamara hadn't stopped raving about how Evian seemed to have morphed into a whole different person since the
Miami Divas.
And Evian was eating the praise up.

I pushed aside thoughts of Evian and was going through some of my e-mails when my office phone rang.

“It's Maya,” I said, answering.

“Hey, Maya, Ms. Collins would like to see you in her office,” Tamara's assistant, Kelley, said.

I groaned. My attitude was so bad I just wanted to go home, but I decided to go see what it was that Tamara wanted. I made my way to her office, where she was sitting at her desk poring over some papers. It always amazed me to see how cluttered her desk was, especially because the rest of her office was so together. Everything in her office was first class. She had an imported marble desk, plush leather chairs, and a bearskin rug. Her walls were covered with awards that she had won for her television shows, and of course, pictures of every celebrity under the sun.

“Hey, Tamara, what's up? Kelley said you wanted to see me.”

“Come in. Have a seat.”

“What's going on?” I asked as I sat down in the chair in front of her desk.

“Well,” Tamara began, looking up from her papers, “we were going over some of the numbers and yesterday's show gave us some of our highest ratings in weeks.”

“That's good to know,” I said, still wondering why this information couldn't wait until in the morning.

“But we've also been monitoring something else that seems to be generating quite a few ratings.”

I raised my eyebrow as I waited for her to continue. The look on her face told me that she was treading lightly.

“Well, I know this situation with Evian started out tragically, but her round of television and radio interviews has given us some ideas.”

That made me sit up, my eyebrows raised, my head cocked. “What kind of ideas?”

“Well, we're exploring a couple of things. One includes”—Tamara took a deep breath like she was trying to psych herself up to finish—“one includes having Evian be a correspondent on
Rumor Central
just because of her notoriety and—”

I cut her off. “I don't think so.” I knew Tamara was the boss, but I was the
show
. And it would be a cold day before I let Evian ride her manufactured publicity into my spotlight.

“No, hear me out,” Tamara continued. She pulled out several magazines and newspapers and spread them out across her desk. “Between Evian's media coverage, her notoriety, the pizzazz that she seems to have picked up from somewhere—because she sure didn't have that when she was with
Miami Divas
—with all of that, we just think we could market the heck out of this. Like it or not, Evian is bankable right now.”

Tamara must've been smoking some potent drugs because she was clearly high.

“So is Maya Morgan,” I said. “In fact Maya Morgan is
always
bankable and didn't need to be kidnapped in order to be relevant.”

Tamara shook her head as a small smile crept up on her face. “Somehow I knew you wouldn't be too keen on this idea, but I really wish that you would consider it.”

“Wow,” I said. “Are you, like, serious?” I wanted to tell her that if she was, I just needed to turn in my notice right now because I would quit before I shared my show with the likes of Evian Javid.

“We haven't worked out all the details,” Tamara admitted. “We were just tossing around some ideas, but we need to make a decision soon.”

This was some B.S. “I can't believe you guys think because Evian was kidnapped and knows how to turn on the waterworks, that means that she's ready for TV.”

Tamara shrugged like she didn't expect me to get it. “Well, again, we're still trying to work out details, but we definitely would like to take this to the next level with Evian. I respect that you don't want her on
Rumor Central,
but I'll figure something out.”

All I could do was shake my head. Just wow. I didn't have any serious beef with Evian. I just didn't think she had what it took to “take it to the next level.” But judging from the look in Tamara's eyes, all she saw were ratings and for some warped reason, she seemed to think that Evian could bring those ratings to us. I don't know why she couldn't see that even if people did start out watching some stupid show that Evian was on, they wouldn't stick around because she wasn't star material. It would only be a matter of time before they saw that she was one big boring blob. And no kidnapping, sex enslavement, or any other sob story could ever change that.

I
had never been so happy to hear the bell ring. Today had been one of those days.

I had already been in a foul mood when I arrived, but that make-up calculus test had just made things worse. Then, the way Evian was parading around like she was Barbara Walters or something just burned my skin. I needed to get off this campus and away from this chick. I was heading to the station because I had an interview with Miley Cyrus. She'd been getting buck-wild crazy lately and had decided to talk to
Rumor Central
, but she was on a tight schedule. I needed to have skipped seventh period altogether, but my test was after school. Ms. Watson wasn't trying to hear it and told me if I missed that make-up test (I'd missed the original one because I had to go to Tampa to shoot an interview), I was going to take an F. And since I couldn't end up flunking and not graduating, I had to stay the whole time.

I got to my car in the parking lot, hit the remote to unlock it, and was just about to throw my purse in the backseat when I noticed my back tire on flat.

“You have
got
to be freaking kidding me,” I mumbled. “Oh my God, what am I supposed to do?” I said, looking at my watch. I leaned down and touched the tire—not that I knew anything about tires, but I could tell that it was definitely completely flat.

“Ugh,” I said kicking it, which only hurt my toe.

There was no way I had time to wait for AAA to come. I looked around the parking lot, trying to find the security guard, a bumbling pseudo-cop who did nothing but walk around looking like he was seven months pregnant with his stomach hanging over his too-tight pants. Of course, his worthless behind was nowhere to be found.

“Doggone it,” I said. “What am I supposed to do?” I had exactly fifteen minutes to get to the station.

Finally, the rent-a-cop came rounding the corner. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Yeah, my tire is on flat,” I said, pointing at my tire.

He leaned back, looked at it, and snorted. “It sure is.”

“Can you help me change it?” I snapped.

“Well, changing tires isn't in my job description,” he chuckled.

“What?” I said. “Are you for real?”

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding.” He held up his hands defensively. “You teenagers have no sense of humor.”

I wanted to tell him to try saying something funny and it might give me a reason to laugh, but because I needed him to hurry up and change the tire, I kept my mouth closed.

“Let me see here,” he said, leaning down. “Yep, it's on flat.”

Duh!
“Can you help me change it?” I asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice.

He walked around my BMW, inspecting it like he was at a car dealership or something.

“Oh, this one of those fancy-schmancy cars. Don't know what happened to a good ol' Toyota or a Honda. . . . I
know
how to change tires on those.” He stopped right at the back of the car. “Don't you need some kind of special tools or something?”

“I don't know,” I snapped. Did I look like I knew the first thing about tires? I didn't even feel like going at it with him. I looked at my watch again. I had twenty minutes before my interview and the station was exactly twenty minutes away.

“How long is it going to take you to change it?” I asked.

“Well.” He kneeled, then cocked his head like he was studying the tire. “It'll take a good twenty or thirty minutes I'm guessing.”

“Are you for real? You can't do it any faster?”

He glared at me like he didn't appreciate my tone.

He stood back up. “Or you can call AAA.”

“I don't have time to wait on AAA,” I protested.

He wiped his hands to get the dirt off from where he was kneeling. “Well, I don't know what to tell you, little lady. Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Ugh,” I moaned.

“What's wrong?”

I looked up to see Bryce, his backpack slung across his shoulder. He was stopped just in front of my car.

“The little lady got a flat and it seems like she's a tad bit impatient,” the security guard said.

Bryce let out a small chuckle. “Impatience is her middle name,” he joked.

I didn't smile. I didn't need him thinking anything was funny.

“Hey,” Bryce said, stepping over to me. “Chill out. What's wrong?”

“I need to be at the station in, like, ten minutes.”

I looked at the keys dangling in Bryce's hands and, while riding with him was the last thing I wanted to do, right now I didn't have a choice. “Can you give me a lift to the station?”

“Um, well, I was about to go—”

“Look, I'm not trying to keep you from your little girlfriend,” I said, cutting him off.

He turned his lips up. “I was saying I was about to go to practice. I was just coming to get my cleats out the car.”

Right now, Bryce was my only hope since the parking lot was half empty. “Bryce, I'm sorry,” I said. “I just really have to get to the station. Can you run me over there?”

“I guess I can let coach know that I'll be late,” he said, looking back at the field.

“I'll vouch for you. Whatever I need to do. Just please?”

“All right, cool,” he said. “Come on.”

“You know you're not supposed to leave your car parked in the parking lot overnight,” fake-cop yelled after me as Bryce and I darted to his car.

“I'll send AAA to come fix it and I'll come back after I'm done,” I called back.

I didn't wait for him to reply as I jumped into Bryce's car.

We rode in silence before Bryce finally said, “Are you sure you're all right?”

“I'm just irritated,” I said, turning to stare out of the window. I didn't like how Bryce always seemed to be there when I needed him. I was so over him and I didn't want him to start seeing himself as some kinda superhero savior or something. In fact, he didn't need to get it twisted. Yes, he'd been there for me on more than one occasion, but at the end of the day, I was still done with him.

“Are you irritated about your tire, or is it something more?”

I just looked out the window. I wasn't in the mood for small talk.

“Is it the stuff with Evian?” he asked.

I nodded, even though I didn't want to.

Bryce said, “Yeah, I see how she's milking this for all it's worth. I figured it had to be bugging you.”

I was tripping because Bryce seemed to be the only one who got that and didn't think I was just overreacting.

“It is so frustrating because Evan is just playing it up. She's trying to bogart my territory. She just makes me sick.”

“I know this doesn't mean anything to you,” Bryce said, as he maneuvered off the freeway. “But can't nobody steal your shine.”

I cut my eyes at him. “I know that,” I said. I didn't want to tell him how it felt to hear him say that. “Can you just get me to the station? I can't be late.”

That's all I needed from Bryce. A ride. That's all I
wanted
from Bryce. At least that was what I kept telling myself as he sped toward the station.

I
was so glad I didn't have to go live on the air today. I was so frazzled by the time Bryce dropped me off. Thank God that Miley was late, so I had a few minutes to spare. Then, the interview hadn't taken that long. Miley had shared some awesome stuff, put a few rumors to rest, and talked about what was next on tap for her. I couldn't wait for the interview to air.

Now that I'd had that out of the way, I needed to get my car situation taken care of. Well, I needed to call Travis and tell him to handle it. What was the use of having male relatives if they didn't handle stuff like this?

“So, you got me covered?” I asked my cousin.

He blew an exasperated breath. “You know I got you, but I don't want to hear any flak when I tell you to do something for me,” he warned.

“Of course you won't,” I said.
Yeah, right,
I really wanted to say.

“A'ight, I'll be by the station to pick you up after I get this taken care of.”

“Thanks, cuz,” I told him.

I hung up, did a few more things around my office, and was just about to go talk to Tamara when I bumped right into Evian in the doorway of my office.

“Maya,” she said, giving me a fake air kiss. I didn't return it.

“Evian, what's going on?” I looked around. “What are you doing back here? We don't have another interview, do we?”

She laughed as she looked to her left, then her right. “Oh, just searching around, seeing which one of these”—she leaned in and looked inside my office—“I want for my office.”

“Excuse me?”

As if she needed to make sure I didn't miss a word, Evian looked directly at me. “Tamara told me to just pick a room.” She looked directly at me. “
Any
room. And I'm kinda sorta feeling yours.”

“You got me messed up,” I found myself saying. “If you think you're moving in to my office, you'd better think again.” Why would Evian even need an office? Surely, she was just saying something to get under my skin.

“Now, now,” Evian said, wagging her finger. “Don't get testy. I don't like your office anyway because it's facing the west. I need sunshine coming in to my office.”

“Why are you even getting an office?” I asked.

“Oh, you hadn't heard?” she said with a huge grin. “I need an office because I'm getting a show.”

The look on my face must've told her that I had no idea because she continued with her cheesy grin. “They told me they'd be discussing it with you. I'd think you'd be happy for me, but Wade—”

“Who is Wade?” I asked, cutting her off.

She giggled again, sounding like a stupid broken mechanical doll. “Oh, I'm sorry. You know him as Mr. Hampton, the station manager. Well, Mr. Hampton had some fabulous ideas for my show.”

“Really?” I folded my arms and glared at her. “So,
Wade
is giving input into your show?”

“Yep,” she said, excitedly. “I'm so looking forward to all the stuff they have planned for me.”

I paused, then said, “Evian, you know I don't have a beef with you, so as your friend—”

“Oh, you're my friend now?” she said, cutting me off.

“Yes,
as your friend
,” I stressed, “I feel that I need to warn you that this is a rough business. It's only so long your kidnapping crisis will be front-page news.”

“Oh, I know that.” She waved me off. “But I also have many other talents and now that I have my own show, the world is about to see. What's the matter, Maya? Are you feeling threatened?”

That actually made me laugh. “Why in the world would I feel threatened by you?”

“I don't know. You tell me,” Evian replied. “I was just wondering what it was about me that made you feel so insecure.”

I faced her. “Trust and believe, I am not insecure. I see you up in here and I know what you're doing.”

She glanced at me, losing her smile. “Tell me, Maya, what am I doing?”

“You're trying to parlay your fifteen minutes of fame into a career, but there was a reason
Miami Divas
got cancelled. It's because you other broads were boring.”

“Wow,” Evian said. “Us ‘other broads.' ”

She stepped closer to me. “Well, let me tell you something about
this
broad. This broad knows how to play the game and yes, I milked my kidnapping crisis as you said, for all it's worth and”—she looked at a piece of paper that I just now noticed she was holding—“ judging by my new contract, it's worth a lot.” She leaned back and looked in my office again. “On second thought, maybe I'll tell Tamara that I
do
want this office after all.”

“Girl, bye!” I said.

The day she got my office would be the day Martians invaded the earth. It just wasn't happening.

“Well, I would love to sit here and continue to listen to your little jealous rant.”

“I am not jealous of you.”

“Call it what you want.” She shifted her Birkin bag to her other arm. “But I must go. Hair and makeup are waiting for my promotional photo shoot. Holla at your girl,” she said, using my tag line for my show as she strutted off.

I swear I felt like taking my Louboutin off and hurling it at the back of her head.

Instead, I made a beeline to Tamara's office. These people were on some kind of special drug if they were seriously considering letting Evian have a show, and I was definitely about to let them know how I felt about that outrageously stupid decision.