I'm Doin' Me 2

by Anna Black

  While she waited, she scribbled baby names on her pad. She and Kory had learned it was a girl, and they were at the name-choosing stage. Tiffany was now showing and finally able to wear the cute maternity ensembles she had purchased. Feeling confident and easy that morning, her mood shifted when Tracy walked in. She put on a fake smile and nodded as her annoying bitch ass took a seat directly across from Tiffany.

  Great, Tiffany thought and sent up a silent prayer asking God to not let the meeting run too long. Tracy was going to be the first person she released when she took over, and she couldn’t wait to give her, her walking papers. She had one show that was doing well, but her ideas were always corny; yet, for some reason, Mike would say they were great ideas. Two of those trite show ideas were scheduled to go into production soon, and if Tiffany had a say, she’d stop the madness before it got underway.

  Tiffany went back to her baby-name list, but she could feel Tracy’s eyes on her. They had this meeting every quarter, and every quarter was too often for Tiffany to be in the same room with Tracy, and she wished Mike would be considerate of others and show up on time for a change. Mr. Green would comment on his tardiness, but that never motivated Mike to get there by nine. It was always nine fifteen, and the last meeting he strolled in at nine thirty. Since Mr. Green wasn’t there, they couldn’t even start without him, just like that day, and Tiffany wanted to tell crazy-ass Tracy to stop gawking at her, but she kept her eyes glued to her pad and pen.

  Finally, Mike walked in. “Good morning, ladies and gents, I’m sorry I’m late.” Tiffany knew that shit was a lie, but she held a straight face. Mike put his briefcase on the table and opened it. “First, we are going to go over numbers and ratings as usual, and then after we talk about what we can do to improve, the floor will be opened for new ideas. Same routine, same format, so let’s get started.”

  Tiffany did all she could to keep from yawning during that part of the meeting. She never had low ratings or rankings so she thought of baby names as Mike commented, admonished, and announced who’d be in their last season. Finally, after almost two hours of that, they were on new show ideas. There were slots for four new shows, and Tiffany was confident Myah’s idea would be chosen.

  “Ummm, I’d like to go first,” Tracy said raising her pen in the air.

  Tiffany almost laughed out loud, but she refrained and rolled her eyes instead. She didn’t care if Tracy went before her because she knew Tracy’s concept would not top Myah’s. Tracy was nowhere near as creative as she thought she was, and Tiffany wondered why Mike showed so much interest in her whack ideas.

  “Okay, Tracy, let’s hear it,” Mike said.

  “Well, I want to do a show based on three single mothers that are struggling to raise their children alone. Urban community, middle class, though.”

  What the hell! was Tiffany’s first thought, and then she thought her ears were playing tricks on her. Tiffany’s eyes darted at the woman sitting on the opposite side of the table. That was Myah’s concept. How in the fuck did she know Myah’s concept? Myah told her that in confidence. The look on Tiffany’s face was incredulous as she listened to Tracy continue with Myah’s words—verbatim. Tiffany stood, and her mouth opened, and as soon as Tracy’s evil ass paused, Tiffany interrupted. “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington, but that is my junior producer’s idea. We’ve been discussing this idea for months.”

  Tracy also stood to her feet and met Tiffany’s gaze. “I beg your pardon,” Tracy said with disgust. “I thought of this idea months ago, and I’ve shared this idea with Mike before.”

  Tiffany eyed the woman down. She knew that trick was as shrewd as she looked. “Mike? Oh, so we’re on a first-name basis? I don’t care what you discussed with Mike,” Tiffany spat. “That idea is my junior associate’s idea. We’ve been bouncing that idea around for weeks, months, even, and I don’t know how you got wind of it, but to stand here in my face and suggest it as if it were yours is low, Tracy. You stole Myah’s idea.”

  “Mr. Harrington,” Tracy said turning to Mike, “maybe this pregnancy is affecting Mrs. Bank’s mind or clouding her thought process, but you and I both know that this is not the first time we have discussed this idea, and for her to accuse me of stealing a show idea is contemptible.”

  “Tracy, if I wasn’t pregnant I would jump across this table and—” Tiffany blared in rage.

  “Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Mike yelled over them. “Have a seat,” he ordered, but they both remained standing. “If you ladies want to continue working at TiMax, you will sit! Now!” Mike yelled.

  Tracy sat first, and after giving Tracy the nastiest look Tiffany had in her, she eased down into her chair. Mike began to talk, but his words fell on deaf ears. Tiffany’s eyes were locked on the other woman, and all she wanted to do was whip her ass. To steal Myah’s idea was low. There was nothing documented to prove that Myah came up with that concept months ago.

  “Do you understand, Mrs. Banks?” Mike yelled, and Tiffany snapped back.

  “I’m sorry, Mike, can you repeat what you just said.” She hadn’t heard him. Anger overshadowed her sense of hearing.

  “I said that we will continue this in my office at a later time. I want to get to the bottom of this.”

  “No need, Mr. Harrington. She can have it. She needs something to resurrect her sorry-ass career,” Tiffany spat.

  “Excuse me!” Tracy said, shocked.

  “You heard me. The numbers don’t lie. Your current show is only holding strong because of Colby Grant. If it wasn’t for Colby having a strong fan base and followers, that show, along with your hackneyed-ass new ideas would be off the network’s roster. You are not cut out for this line of work. If you were, KCLN would have kept you.” Tiffany knew that was a sore spot, but she meant to hit below the belt. She didn’t care. Any cordialness she had for Tracy was gone, and Tiffany wished she wasn’t carrying her first child because she’d put a Chicago South Side beat down on that bitch.

  “Mr. Harrington,” Tracy cried, looking for help.

  “Mrs. Banks,” Mike said.

  “It’s cool, Mr. Harrington, I’m done,” Tiffany said and took a long drink of her bottled water. She wished she could go to her office and hit one of the bottles of booze. She only half-listened to the rest of the meeting, and as soon as she got back to her office Myah was at the door.

  “So what did Mike think? Is my show on the roster?”

  “Have a seat, Mee-Mee.”

  “Oh no, they hated it.” Myah sat. “It’s okay, I have other ideas, so next quarter we can submit another one. I’m patient. I’m learning so much.”

  Tiffany smiled, because if that had been the case, Myah was taking the news well, but she had to tell her the truth.

  “Mee-Mee, that’s not it,” Tiffany said.

  “Okay, then, what? You look defeated, boss.”

  “Myah, did you tell anyone—I mean anyone—about your idea? Anyone here? Cameron?”

  “No, only you. Why? Talk to me, Tiffany, what’s up?”

  “In the meeting today, Tracy gave your concept as her show idea.”

  “What!” Myah’s face resembled Tiffany’s when Tracy started talking that morning.

  “Yes. The exact same concept, and I have no idea how she knew what we spoke about, and Mike likes it, and since we never documented anything, I can’t prove it was your idea and not hers.”

  “Tiffany, that is fucked up. This nontalented, corny-ass bitch steals my show idea, and there is nothing we can do?”

  “I’m sorry, Myah, but no. We didn’t record it in a file or log it, so it’s our word against hers.”

  “That’s some straight bullshit, Tiffany. I can beat her ass right about now.”

  “I know, but please don’t. I think she and Mike might have a thing going. She called him Mike in the meeting and said they had chatted about that concept before.”

  “Well, you and I both know that Mike bangs anything in heels and a skirt.”

  “Yes, he is a player. How
. . . I don’t know because he is not a catch. Definitely not my type.”

  “Not mine either, but can you talk to Mr. Green, Tiffany?”

  “I could, Myah, but we have no proof. Mr. Green is still grieving Tressa’s death, and I don’t want to go to him with this.”

  “I understand.” Myah dropped her head.

  “Myah, don’t worry, sweetheart. You are going to shine here. I promise. This is just a small hurdle.”

  She stood. “I hope so.” She headed toward the door. “If Tracy says a word to me . . . I mean, even if she says hello, I’m going to punch her in her throat.”

  “Just don’t get locked up, Myah. You do have three kids.”

  She laughed. “Damn, I hate her ass.”

  “So do I,” Tiffany said, and Myah made her exit. Tiffany took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. She didn’t need or want any stress during her pregnancy, and she couldn’t wait until Mike was gone and she was appointed CEO so she could have Tracy’s ass escorted off the premises. She knew the network had a contract with Tracy, but her awful show ideas would be the reason Tiffany needed to relieve her of her duties, and the more she thought about it, Tracy would be out the door before she could put Myah’s idea into production.

  Tiffany made a mental note to bring Mr. Green up to date on what happened that day, and she’d have to convince him that she felt capable of stepping up. She wanted Tracy gone so bad her entire body ached.

  She grabbed her cell phone and dialed Kory.

  “Hey, honey,” Kory said when he answered.

  “Hey, baby, do you have a minute?”

  “Always for you, baby, what’s up?”

  “Tracy is what’s up. She is a thorn, Kory,” Tiffany whined.

  “What happened now, Tiff?”

  She filled him in on what had transpired that morning, and, as usual, Kory had soothing words to comfort his wife.

  “So get through your day and I will take you somewhere special this evening for dinner.”

  “Someplace special, huh?”

  “Yes, baby, anywhere you want to go.”

  “How about Angelini Osteria, on Beverly Boulevard? I may be working a little late, so we can meet maybe around eight.”

  “Sounds good, baby, just try to enjoy your day, okay? Remember, we vowed that we wouldn’t let anyone or anybody stress us out during our pregnancy.”

  “I know, baby, but fortunately for you, I’m carrying her, and you don’t work with pyscho-ass Tracy.”

  “I know, sweetheart, but focus on the future. You won’t have to suffer her forever.”

  “True. I love you, Mr. Banks. I’ll see you later.”

  “Love you too, Mrs. Banks.”

  They hung up, and Tiffany tried to get back to work. She hadn’t spent much time in the studio lately because her focus was on learning how to run that company. She wanted to make sure she could not only maintain the stellar name that Langley and Mike built, but she was also going to bring a fresh, new, and edgier feel to the company. There were a lot of young, hungry, talented writers out there, and she planned to shake out the old heads that weren’t producing hit shows and replacing them with newcomers who wanted to turn TiMax into the leading network for the most viewed and highest-rated shows.

  It wasn’t going to happen overnight, but since Mr. Green was happy with her vision, she was anxiously waiting for all transactions to be completed and Tracy, along with the barely-getting-by employees, will no longer be on TiMax’s payroll.

  * * *

  Tiffany arrived at the restaurant a little after eight, and she was happy that Kory had already arrived. They were seated, and since it was a special night alone with her husband, she and Kory both agreed it was okay for her to enjoy a glass of red wine. That day had been stressful, so she needed something to help her unwind, and a small glass would be okay.

  They ordered their appetizers, and they decided that work would not be a subject. They agreed to talk about the baby, names, and the new nursery. Tiffany had had a couple of designers to present ideas, so she and Kory were trying to narrow down the one they liked the most.

  When wine and appetizers were on the table, they started with names. Tiffany took a sip—and her eyes widened when she saw her.

  “What is it, baby? It’s like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Unfucking believable, Kory. No way is that Tracy,” Tiffany snarled. She could not believe her eyes.

  Kory turned to look in the direction his wife was ogling. “In the red?” he asked.

  “Yes, in the red. Out of every restaurant in L.A., she picks this one, Kory. Something is up. There is no way that I keep running into this woman. I mean, either she walks in within minutes after me, or I’ll walk in to find her leaving. This is crazy, Kory.”

  He looked at Tiffany. “Baby, this is weird. Do you think she’s following you?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Tiffany stood, but Kory stopped her.

  “No, babe, sit,” he said reaching out for her hand. He wouldn’t let her pass.

  “Kory, I need to confront her.”

  “No, you need to sit.”

  Tiffany put a hand on her swollen belly and eased back into her seat. “Why can’t I go over there, Kory? This bitch is apparently stalking me.”

  “Tiffany, the best way to handle someone like her is to straight ignore her. If you go over and confront her, or make a scene, she is going to make you out to be the one who is crazy or paranoid. Stay away from that crazy-ass woman, Tiffany. You are pregnant. You go over and confront her, she gets out of pocket and goes off, and something happens to you or my kid, I’d snap her neck.”

  Tiffany laughed. “Okay, baby, I get it. I won’t even look her way.”

  “Exactly,” Kory said . . . and then that crazy bitch approached.

  Tiffany’s eyes almost jumped out of her head.

  “Good evening, Tiffany, and you must be Kory.” Tracy extended her hand. Kory didn’t touch her. Tiffany knew he knew better. After a moment, Tracy drew back her hand.

  “Tracy, you and I don’t have shit to say to one another so why are you at our table?”

  “Well, I wanted to say hello. I know we had a misunderstanding earlier—” Tracy attempted to say, but Tiffany cut her off.

  “A misunderstanding, Tracy?” Tiffany gripped her dinner napkin and peered at Tracy. Through clenched teeth, she said. “Bitch, if you don’t get your demented ass away from our table, you are going to need help getting up from the floor.”

  “Wow, I thought you had more class than that, Mrs. Banks. Aren’t you pregnant? I swear hormones are crazy when you are with child.”

  Tiffany looked at Kory, tilted her head to the right, and he knew that look. His wife was about to flip that table over. “Tracy, it was nice to meet you, now can you please give us some privacy.” Kory’s tone was direct and firm.

  The other woman backed down. “Sure, and it was a pleasure to meet you. See you at work tomorrow,” she said to Tiffany with a smirk, and then walked away.

  “Kory,” Tiffany hissed.

  “I know, I know, but calm down, baby. No stress, remember? You cannot let Tracy of all people get to you. She is a piece of work.”

  Their server approached for the dinner order, so he created a temporary distraction. Although Tiffany’s appetite had escaped her, she ordered her favorite dish anyway. Once the server was gone with their menus, Tiffany kept her eyes glued on her husband and ignored the devil with the red dress on in the room. Tracy had sat at a table that made it easy to watch Tiffany, but Tiffany used her skills of temperance and enjoyed the rest of her evening with her husband as if Tracy Simms were no longer in the room.

  It’s Working

  Episode 27

  Tracy

  Tracy headed toward Mike’s with an enormous smile plastered on her face. She was finally getting what she wanted. It pleased her to know that her antics were starting to get to Tiffany, and she was working on Mike to get closer to the top. Mi
ke was pretty much her key to being more successful, so she wanted him to give her more shows, more power, and more praises. Tressa’s overdose could not have come at a better time. Rumor had it that Mr. Green may not ever return to work, and she has to be in Mike’s good graces in order to move up the ladder for whatever position or station that put her over Tiffany.

  She wanted Tiffany miserable, and she wanted her to become so irritated and uncomfortable at TiMax that she resigned. Tracy had listened in on several conversations where Tiffany had expressed her hatred for her, but she didn’t give a damn, because she despised her ass just as much, and she wanted her gone.

  After she had put on her best performance, she lay next to Mike in his bed and silently praised herself for a job well done. Before Mike could shut his eyes, she mentioned doing something else besides producing. Mike’s reply was, “Something else like what?”

  “I don’t know, baby. Like more on the corporate side . . . maybe being the head of my department. I can tackle the job of ratings, rankings, and monitor the shows’ progress and schedule. What you do, because I know you hate it. You barely walk in prepared. Most times, we can tell you’ve just taken a glimpse at the figures right before our meetings, and then you’re never on time. You can just put me over our department, and that way, you can scratch the nightly series monitoring off your list.”

  “That’s sounds good, Tracy, that would relieve me of that burden, but you know with a decision like that, I’d have to consult Langley, and there is the matter of seniority. If I suggest this, I’m sure Tiffany Banks would most likely be Langley’s choice. She has the most hit shows and has been there the longest since a few veterans have moved on. Most likely, you wouldn’t get the offer.”