Too Hot for TV

by Cheris Hodges

  “Only you would decide to go out the night before your trip and not be packed,” Dana said as she made up the sofa and watched her friend flitter around packing her suitcase.

  “I thought that I had everything, but as we were coming back, I decided on the character that I want to portray,” Imani said. “It’s easy to be the vixen, but I want to be the sexy, yet smart contestant. That way, when and if some movie producer sees me, I can be considered the lead for a romantic comedy or something like that.”

  Dana laughed and rolled her eyes. “And how do you dress smart and sexy?”

  “That’s what I’m looking for. Cute dresses are key, number one.”

  “I’m going to bed. What time is your flight again?”

  “Seven,” Imani said. “I have one more thing to pack and I will be off to bed.”

  “I hope so,” Dana said. “Because the way security is at JFK, I’m going to have to drop you off by five.”

  Imani looked up at the clock on the wall; it was five minutes to one. “Then I guess I’d better set the alarm and the coffee pot.”

  Imani dashed into the kitchen and realized that she didn’t have coffee or filters to set up her needed dose of morning caffeine. “This being broke crap sucks,” she muttered as she decided it was time to go to bed.

  Later, Imani didn’t have trouble getting up for her trip. Her night had been filled with dreams of Edward calling her and saying that she needed to come back to New York because a Broadway producer wanted her for a new show and she was playing the lead. She’d almost thought the dream was real and checked her cell phone when she woke up at four-thirty to see if the call had actually happened. But she soon realized that she was still in Brooklyn and her phone hadn’t rung at all. It’s going to be a reality soon, she thought as she hopped in the shower. After her shower, Imani dressed in a pair of leggings and a tank top so that she wouldn’t set off too many bells and whistles going through security. Then she grabbed her bags and headed into the living room, happy to see that Dana was walking in the door with two cups of coffee from the bodega around the corner.

  “You really are my BFF,” Imani said as she set her luggage next to the door.

  “Whatever. I know how you are without coffee and I didn’t want to deal with that,” Dana replied as she handed Imani a cup. “Only two bags?”

  “Yep. Smart and sexy romantic comedy stars don’t overpack. Besides, I got enough bathing suits in here to last me just in case I make it to the finale.”

  “And why do you think you won’t make it?” Dana asked, then took a sip of her coffee.

  “I had a dream,” Imani said. “It was all about Broadway and I can’t help but believe it’s going to come true.”

  Dana nodded. “But if we don’t get going, you’re not going to make your flight to paradise and I’m not going to get home to get some real sleep.”

  Carefully guarding her coffee, Imani grabbed her keys and luggage, then she and Dana headed for the airport.

  Raymond wanted to ignore the blaring alarm clock. But he couldn’t ignore his ringing cell phone.

  “Yeah?” he said when he answered his annoying BlackBerry.

  “Man, you need to pull yourself out of bed and get to the airport,” Keith said, sounding wide awake at four-thirty. “Or did you get some good-bye nookie that wore you out?”

  “One day, I swear you’re going to stop living your bachelor fantasies through me,” Raymond said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I swear, if we didn’t have so much debt and if that clinic didn’t have Mrs. Palmer’s name on it, I’d skip this flight.” He shook his head and groaned. Early mornings to head into the clinic, Raymond didn’t mind. Heading to an emergency room because one of his patients didn’t want to see another doctor, that was fine as well. But this, heading for a reality show, was giving him pause.

  “Are you sure this is the only way we can keep the clinic open?” Raymond asked as he glanced at his luggage in the corner.

  “Yes, otherwise, we’d be in the black right now,” Keith replied. “Do I need to go over there and drive you to the airport to make sure you get on the plane?”

  “Nah, man. I made a commitment and I’m going. A car will be here in an hour.”

  “Then don’t you think you should get out of bed?” Keith asked. “No one wants to sit on a plane with a smelly doctor. What if you run into one of the other contestants and you smell like the inside of a filthy cab?”

  “First of all, speak for yourself. Second of all, you’re keeping me from my shower,” Raymond said, happy that his friend called him. “Hey, where is Celeste?”

  “Sleeping. Like I’m going to be when I’m sure you’re going.”

  “I said I was, didn’t I? And if your woman is lying in bed, why are you up?”

  “Her dinner did a number on me. I’ve had heartburn all night. I should’ve gotten pizza with you and I might’ve gotten about two hours of sleep tonight.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?” Raymond asked out of genuine concern.

  “Yeah. You know I have acid reflux. She used extra sauce on that pasta and I forgot to take my purple pill.”

  “Have you gone to the doctor to make sure you don’t have GERD?”

  “I think I would know that.”

  “Doctors always make the worse patients. When I get back, we got a meeting in exam room three,” Raymond ordered.

  “Whatever. You need to worry about charming those babes on the show and stop worrying about me. I’m going to be fine.”

  “Keith, you need to start taking better care of yourself.”

  “So do you. Had your prostate exam yet?”

  “Touché,” Raymond replied. “We’ll take care of all that when I get back, and if I’m lucky, I won’t be in Hawaii that long.”

  “You’d better try and win this thing,” Keith said, then laughed. “And I’d better go; Celeste is looking at me wondering who I’m talking to.”

  “All right, I’ll call you when I land.” Raymond hung up the phone, glanced at his watch, and hopped out of bed. After a quick shower, a bagel, and a cup of coffee, he heard his car honking outside to take him to the airport. As he loaded his luggage in the car, Raymond prayed he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself.

  Chapter 5

  Imani sat on the plane, heading for the show’s location, Maui, Hawaii, trying not to be excited about the reality show. But as the hours ticked away, her excitement grew. Okay, she wasn’t going to film a big budget movie and Terrence Howard wasn’t going to be shirtless on the beach waiting to shoot a love scene. But damn it, she was going to Hawaii. Fearless Diva had been filmed in Southern California, but all Imani had seen of the West Coast had been soundstages and back alleys in East Los Angeles.

  This trip would be different because even if she was going to do something that she felt was beneath an actress of her skills, the location was a slice of paradise. Imani’s plan was simple: the longer she stayed on the show the more money she would make. So, she needed to find a guy who was docile enough to let them fly under the radar and make America at least like them well enough not to vote them off until she caught the attention of someone who could further her career.

  She had to make herself stand out; however, she didn’t want to be a stereotype. It would be a tough road to walk, but Imani was confident that she could do it. As a matter of fact, this would be the ultimate screen test. She pulled her oversized sunglasses over her eyes and leaned her seat back. Sleep took over as the plane reached its cruising altitude. Imani dreamed of receiving an Oscar for best actress, beating Halle Berry, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Sissy Spacek. Denzel was her date and he kissed her deeply when she stood up to get her award. Cameras flashed as she walked up the steps to accept the award from Julia Roberts, who had won last year for some movie where she showed her breasts, something Imani refused to do just to get an Oscar nomination. Her coral and blue Roberto Cavalli dress swayed as she walked. Just as Imani was about to give her acceptance speech
, a jolt of turbulence awakened her.

  The captain began telling everyone to put their seats in the upright position and lock the serving trays. Imani did as she was commanded and prayed silently that this wasn’t the end. She hadn’t made it yet. Imani promised herself that when she reached superstar status, there would be no more flying, just like Aretha Franklin. If someone wanted her to audition for a movie role, they would have to drive her out or pay for the train ticket.

  The turbulence soon subsided. Imani looked at her watch. Only six more hours. What am I going to do with myself for six hours? she thought as she pulled out her month-old Variety magazine and read the articles again. That took about twenty minutes. Imani looked out the window, hoping to see some breathtaking view, but all she saw was clouds and blue sky. She tried to go to sleep again, but she knew as soon as she got comfortable there would be more turbulence. A flight attendant walked by with the food and drink cart. “Would you like something to drink, ma’am?” the petite blond girl asked.

  “Just water,” Imani replied. The flight attendant eyed her as if she knew her.

  “Were you on TV or in a movie or something?” she asked. “Oh my God. You were in Fearless Diva. I love that movie.” Her voice went up an octave. “‘You don’t scare me, I’m fearless!’” she quoted from the movie. “That is my favorite line. I used it on my boyfriend once and he just stood there and looked at me. Needless to say, we did everything I wanted to do that night.”

  Imani smiled, glad to see that she had one fan. “Well, I’m glad.”

  “I need your autograph. He’s not going to believe this,” she replied excitedly, and handed Imani a paper napkin and pen. The flight attendant waited with bated breath as Imani signed the paper for her.

  “You’re the first actress I’ve met on a flight who isn’t a bitch,” the woman said as Imani handed her the napkin. “Here,” she said as she handed Imani a can of soda. “Just keep it for later. This is going to be a long flight.”

  “Thanks,” Imani said with a smile. Little did her fan know, but Imani was just happy to be recognized by someone who didn’t think Fearless Diva sucked. Imani smiled and relaxed in her seat. She glanced at her watch—only four more hours to go.

  Raymond didn’t enjoy flying, but loud people on a plane could double the discomfort level. The flight attendant kept talking about some actress who’d saved her relationship and signed a cocktail napkin for her. Wonderful, but could she hold this conversation somewhere else? All he wanted to do was sleep.

  “She was so down to earth and just as pretty as she was in the movie,” the flight attendant gushed to another attendant, who was clearly uninterested.

  “She should be nice because that movie was horrible,” the other woman said.

  “It was not horrible,” she replied.

  Raymond cleared his throat and then said, “Excuse me.”

  Both flight attendants turned to him and smiled. “Yes?” one of the women asked.

  “Can I get another blanket and a pillow so that I can finish my nap?” he asked, when what he really wanted to say was, can you two take this inane conversation elsewhere?

  “Oh, yes, sir,” the flight attendant said as if she’d read Raymond’s hint loud and clear. “Can I get you some Earl Grey tea as well?”

  “I’m fine, but I appreciate the offer,” he said. The women smiled at him and as they walked away, Raymond heard one of them say, “Oh, I’d like to offer him something, all right.”

  Looking down at his watch, Raymond smiled. Only two more hours until the plane landed and he could put his feet on solid ground. The flight attendant returned with a blanket and an extra pillow. “So, are you meeting someone special in Hawaii?” she asked as she spread the blanket across his lap.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Well,” she said, then licked her lips seductively, “if things don’t work out”—she handed him a business card—“call me.”

  “All right”—he looked down at the card—“Kara.”

  She winked at him and sauntered down the aisle. Shaking his head, Raymond wondered if it was worth it to join the mile high club with Kara and her shapely hips.

  Nope, he decided. The last thing I need is a fling this high up in the air. But if I’m lucky, she’ll be on my return flight. Leaning back in his seat, Raymond snuggled against his pillow and drifted off to sleep. And just as his nap was getting good, he felt a tug on his shoulder.

  Opening his eyes, he saw Kara standing over him. “We’re preparing to land,” she said. “You need to put your seat in the upright position. Pity, I thought you’d wake up sooner and join me in the bathroom.”

  “Maybe next time,” he said as he adjusted his seat and turned toward the window to watch the landscape of the island grow closer and closer.

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” she replied as she watched Raymond’s eyes sparkle at the sight of the Hawaiian island, for many people an exciting sight to see.

  Raymond released a sigh of relief as the plane bounced on the runway. He couldn’t wait to kiss the ground.

  “E komo mai. Aloha and welcome to Hawaii,” the captain said over the speaker. “Thank you for flying with Delta Air Lines. It’s a sunny day here in Maui, eighty-five degrees this morning at Kahului Airport. Enjoy your stay in paradise and we hope to see you soon.”

  “Paradise lost,” Raymond muttered. “Too bad I’m not going to be on the beach with Kara on vacation.” He got out of his seat and grabbed his pack from the overhead compartment as people rushed off the plane, just as happy to be on the ground as he was. He waited as everyone got to the exit door before he moved. The last thing he wanted was to be crushed by the wave of humanity dashing for the exit. When he finally left the plane, he and Kara locked eyes and she mouthed, “Call me.”

  Raymond winked at her, but was really thinking that women should allow a man to be the hunter at least some of the time. Still, he wouldn’t complain about getting caught by Kara for a couple of hours. After heading to the baggage claim and retrieving his bags, Raymond followed the signs the hula dancers were holding for the reality show contestants. Outside, a Hawaiian band played, hula dancers and fire stick tossers put on a show as two limousines, a black one and a pink one, pulled up. Raymond reached into his carry-on bag and put on a pair of aviator sunglasses. He scanned the other contestants, paying close attention to the women heading for the pink limo. He had to hand it to the show’s producers, the female contestants were very sexy. He’d only counted eleven women, though. There had to be one more since he was standing in a group of twelve men.

  “Man,” one of the men said out loud, “I hope there are no drama queens over there.”

  “Here, here,” a man standing close to Raymond chimed it. “As long as there are no chicks from Boston over there, we’re good.”

  Raymond laughed. “Or New York.”

  “Oh yeah,” the man from Boston said. “New York women, high maintenance. What’s up, man? I’m Harvey.”

  “Raymond.”

  “And you’re from New York?”

  “Best city in the world,” Raymond said.

  “Unless you’re talking about baseball.”

  “That would matter to me if I weren’t a Mets fan,” Raymond replied.

  Harvey laughed and nodded. “You’re a cool guy, then,” he said. “Damn, look at her.”

  Raymond followed Harvey’s gaze and saw a shapely sister dressed in a white halter dress with a pair of oversized sunglasses on. She walked liked a gazelle, graceful and with a purpose, and she seemed so familiar to him.

  “I’m going to need America to put me with that sexiness in that white dress,” Harvey said. “Excuse me.”

  As he walked over to her, Raymond tried to think where he’d seen her and chalked it up to his most erotic dream.

  “Hey,” a man called out. Imani turned toward the voice, wondering who this idiot was hollering as if they were at some kind of sporting event. Lifting her sunglasses, she saw someone else, a
familiar man, standing near the black limo.

  “Yo,” the screaming man called out again. Now, everyone was looking at him. But Imani knew he was bellowing for her. “In the white dress.”

  She found herself regretting going into the restroom and changing her clothes when she’d gotten off the plane. Her new friend Kara, the flight attendant who’d loved Fearless Diva, had walked her off the plane and shown her where to freshen up.

  “Yes?” Imani replied.

  “What do I have to do to get to know you better? You know you’re fine, right?”

  Imani raised her right eyebrow as she surveyed him. This man wasn’t going to make any friends or fans and there wasn’t enough acting in the world that she would do to pretend she liked this loudmouthed, annoying man.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Imani replied.

  “Ouch. Damn, baby, that’s harsh.” His eyes roamed her body like a hungry man at a buffet. When his stare landed on her breasts, Imani folded her arms across her chest.

  “Your breath is harsh. What I said was the truth.”

  Snorting, he turned his head to the side. “You must be from New York. Stuck up b—”

  “And you must be mentally challenged,” she said, then stepped away from him. As she continued to look at the men lined up by the black limo, she saw the man who’d caught her eye standing there. He looked as if the last place he needed to be to find love was on a reality show. There was something vaguely familiar about the tall man in the aviator sunglasses. Please don’t let him be an actor. This is my chance to shine, not compete with others in the business. I don’t need the odds stacked against me like that, she thought as she watched him lift his suitcase with one hand as if it weighed less than a pound.

  His hands . . . She wondered if they were soft and tender. She forced herself to look away because if she didn’t, she’d get caught up in the fantasy of those muscular arms being wrapped around her and those lips pressed against hers. Imani liked kissing. She wanted to kiss him. She wondered what was behind those sunglasses. An admiring gaze? Or lovely green eyes like the doctor who’d cleaned her knee on the street in Manhattan?