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Somebody's Gotta Be on Top

Page 8

by Mary B. Morrison


  Ciara no longer cared about her hair; she was beginning to care about this young, good-looking, inquisitive man. Ciara smiled. “We were poor, but my childhood was great. My favorite color was yellow because it reminded me of the sunshine. My mother used to tell me and Monica that ‘the sun shines every day even when we don’t see it.’ So whenever I see the color yellow, no matter what time of day, I know the sun is shining somewhere and that makes me smile on the inside. My favorite movie was Coffee because Pam Grier was so beautiful but she didn’t take no shit off no man and somehow she still managed to be a lady. When my mother showed us that movie, I became just like Coffee.”

  The tension growing behind Darius’s forehead drew his eyelids closer. What the hell did that mean? He’d have to rent the movie and find out. Hopefully Ciara wasn’t some psychopath pistol-carrying woman waiting to audition for a leading role in a Western. Just because Ciara was older didn’t mean she was more mature. Darius had encountered his fair share of lunatics.

  “. . . and dreams . . . I want the kind of love my mother and father had . . . have . . . they struggled together and prospered together but they always stayed together. They slept in the same bed every night. When I was nine my dad bought us the house I now live in. Monica and I were so happy we had our own rooms. . . .” Tears rolled down Ciara’s cheeks into her ears. “What about you? How was your childhood?”

  “We’ll discuss me another day. It’s almost time. Go freshen up. We need to leave.”

  Darius braced Ciara’s back until she stood erect. “Thanks for sharing,” Darius said, kissing her lips. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  Was this the real Darius Jones? Ciara thought, closing the guest bedroom door. Ciara stood in front of the ceiling-to-floor bathroom mirror. Regardless, he was refreshingly different. Ciara told her reflection, “Don’t start off being judgmental. Give Darius a chance to prove himself worthy of loving you.”

  Pulling a tissue from the gold box on the counter, Ciara wrapped her fingers. Gently she pressed the bottom corner of the mirrored medicine cabinet. What if everything fell out like on that Southwest Airlines commercial? She’d lie and say she was freshening up her makeup and accidentally hit the glass. Ciara scanned the empty rows, closed the mirror then opened each drawer beneath the black vanity. Each drawer was empty. What was she searching for anyway? Lifestyle clues. Was this Darius’s house? Did another person live with him?

  Ciara tossed the tissue into the empty wastebasket. If she stayed in the bathroom any longer, Darius was sure to come and get her. Hurrying downstairs, Ciara smiled. “I’m ready. But you never told me. Where are we going?”

  “To dinner.”

  “Where?”

  “You’ll see. Get in.”

  The chauffeur held the door. Darius held Ciara’s hand until she was comfortably seated then sat beside her. The driver cruised along Highway 101 and exited into Half Moon Bay until they arrived at another beautiful home.

  “Who lives here?”

  “Be patient. You’ll see,” Darius said, escorting Ciara to the front door. His keys jingled loosely in the air. Then he unlocked the door. “Mom! Dad! We’re here!”

  Ciara’s eyes bucked. She whispered, “This is your parents’ home?”

  Darius smiled. “Yeah, one of them. They invited us to dinner.”

  “Darius, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you probably wouldn’t have come.”

  Ciara smiled as Wellington and Jada approached the foyer. Wellington’s brown linen suit complemented Jada’s tan linen jumpsuit.

  “Hey, Son,” Wellington said, hugging Darius.

  “Hi, honey.” Jada extended her arms and rocked Darius side to side.

  “Mom. Dad. This is my guest, Ciara Denise Monroe. Los Angeles native.”

  “Is that so? Pleased to meet you again, Ciara. I’m Jada Diamond Tanner, Darius’s mother. And this is my husband, Wellington Jones.”

  Maybe their introduction was a formality because Ciara had read the screenplay about their lives three times.

  “Dinner is ready,” Jada said, leading them into the dining room.

  A gold table runner accented the table. Each placemat was a different color: blue, green, red, and purple.

  Wellington said grace, and then asked, “Ciara, how did you meet Candice?”

  Ciara expected one of Darius’s parents to ask about her business but not her relationship with Candice. “Candice and I met through Terrell.”

  “Really,” Jada said. “So are you Terrell’s agent?”

  Okay, where were they going with this conversation? “Well, I am a casting director.”

  “So who do you think will play our roles? And can you change our names?”

  “Terrell will play Wellington or whatever the final character’s name will be.”

  Darius covered his mouth and coughed. His lips parted as his hand lowered but then Darius changed his mind about commenting. He nodded and tightened his mouth.

  “And I’m undecided about an actress for Jada’s role. Kendra Moore is perfect. She’s dark-complexioned. Shaped like you, Jada.” Jada smiled as Ciara continued, “But Gabrielle Union is a bigger name. What do you think?”

  “Honestly, I think Candice shouldn’t have optioned the rights to our life story. Just so you’ll know if this movie comes out, I anticipate many of my clients will terminate their contracts with Black Diamonds,” Jada said to Ciara.

  Now Ciara’s lips were tight. Ciara observed and listened throughout the remainder of the meal and dessert. The less she said the better. When dessert was over, Wellington helped Jada clear the table.

  “You ready?” Darius asked. “You’ve been extremely quiet. You look tired.”

  “Just have a lot on my mind with the contract, comments, and all. Honestly I’m having second thoughts about us partnering.”

  “Don’t,” Darius said, holding the back of Ciara’s chair as Ciara eased from under the dining table. Darius yelled from the dining room to his parents in the kitchen. “Ma! Dad! We’re leaving! Thanks for dinner!

  “I wanted you to meet my parents so you’d know what we’re dealing with. They’re well respected in their respective professions and understandably sensitive to being exploited. Let’s get my partner and future lady home,” Darius said, escorting Ciara back to the limousine.

  Ciara leaned her head against the leather seat and closed her eyes. The dinner conversation hadn’t been bad. Now, at least she knew to inform her attorney which obstacles might occur.

  Darius nudged her. “Wake up. We’re here.”

  Ciara wasn’t asleep. She opened her eyes and glanced out the open car door. “Wow, I guess I am tired.” Darius had ruined his chances of making love to her tonight or any other night.

  Darius escorted Ciara upstairs to the guest bedroom. He kissed her lips and whispered, “Good night. Sweet dreams, sunshine.”

  Darius turned on the light then closed the door. The room was decorated with countless bouquets of yellow roses. One rose lay atop the pillow. Ciara smiled. How could she not have interest in Darius? That man was undeniably unbelievable. A keeper. What about Solomon? What about him, Ciara thought. For the first time in years, another man made Ciara forget about Solomon. Perhaps the time had come for Ciara to stop thinking about letting Solomon go and just let him go.

  Daddy used to say, “Keep what you got ’til you find what you need.” Ciara refused to second guess her instincts this time. Darius’s family wouldn’t protest if Ciara were their daughter-in-law. Against Monica’s advice to slow down, for business purposes, Darius Jones was Ciara’s next husband.

  CHAPTER 9

  A woman’s work was never done. Back from Oakland. Back to reality. Back to business. Back in Los Angeles, Jada Diamond Tanner had to make time to resolve her own issues. Dealing with Darius’s erratic behavior. One day he practically ignored her, now he was trying to convince her to back off and stop calling Ciara about the screenplay. Jada felt partially responsible for Dariu
s’s mood swings. How could she forgive herself for lying to Darius? How could she help heal her son’s wounds without pushing him away again? Her husband, Wellington, was truly God sent. Loving. Honest. Forgiving. But, if Wellington were to discover the truth, would he forgive her, again? How did Jada, the woman who had it all together, or so it seemed, end up with skeletons in her closet? There weren’t many. But the few she had were potentially detrimental to her relationships. Especially her marriage.

  “Living life,” Jada whispered.

  Jada knew Wellington, with his take-it-to-the-grave attitude, had secrets too but he was better at evading confessions. And then there was her back-stabbing girlfriend, Candice. Fed up with Candice’s ruthlessness, Jada gathered her purse and keys. Passing the study, Jada noticed Wellington was engrossed in reading the Bible.

  Jada peeped inside then tapped on the door. “Honey, I’ll be back. I have to have a face-to-face with Candice. I can’t take any more of her trifling ways.”

  Wellington’s finger rested center page. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? Jada, I know you’re upset but if you confront Candice she may not accept Darius as Ciara’s partner. And right now we just need to let Ciara and Darius handle Candice. Why don’t I take you out to brunch so we can come to a reasonable resolution. Then you can talk to Candice.”

  “My mind is made up. I’ve decided the only way to stop Candice is to sue Candice.”

  Closing the large white desktop King James Bible with gold-trimmed pages, Wellington scratched his head and said, “Bah, no. That doesn’t make any sense. You can’t sue your best friend. Just ask her to change the names. You must admit,” Wellington smiled, “the things we did were exciting. We could add to the list right now.” Wellington’s eyebrows fluttered.

  “Not as exciting as what’s to come. And I will take you up on that offer. Later.” The tip of Jada’s tongue extended beyond her lips then flickered in the air.

  “Whoa, keep that up and I’m gonna have to—”

  Retracting her tongue Jada sternly said, “No, not now. Later.”

  “Seriously, baby. You should be patient. You’re really overreacting. But I know you. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Jada blew Wellington a kiss. “Bye, honey.”

  Wellington’s car blocked hers. The keys were in his ignition so Jada eased into Wellington’s platinum Jaguar and sped out of the driveway. What the hell was Candice thinking about? Maybe if Candice had asked permission, Jada would’ve understood. Arriving at Candice’s home in less than twenty minutes, Jada parked in the driveway behind Candice’s car.

  Jada sighed then rang Candice’s doorbell.

  “Just a minute!” Moments later, Candice stood in the doorway wearing a blue sweatsuit. Candice’s hair was tied with a pink scarf that hung lower than her ponytail. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise. I thought I’d lost my best friend.” Candice swung the door wide and smiled. “Girl, come on in. Give me a hug.”

  Jada remained stoic. No smile. No frown. No hug. “I wish I could be as friendly but you know why I’m here. We need to talk.” Jada stepped a few feet inside the doorway and stood.

  “Well, since you showed up unannounced at my front door, and you’re not dressed for Sunday morning service, maybe I need to listen. Let’s sit in the living room and catch up on old times. Can I get you something to drink?”

  Jada didn’t move. “No, thanks. I won’t be long.” Jada’s thumbs rested tightly in her beige low-rise corduroy pockets. “Candice, why in the hell did you write a damn screenplay about my life?”

  “I thought we were over that. Girl, all the drama in your life, I just beat someone else to the punch. You must admit you have to be somewhat excited. You’ll be a quasi-celebrity once we start filming. And of course I’ll invite you and Wellington to the premiere.”

  “Premiere my ass, Candice. What about Darius? Why didn’t you give him the contract? That’s the least you could’ve done.”

  “Oh, now I see what this conversation is really about. Jada, everyone in California knows your son’s reputation of being a womanizer and trust me I’m putting it mildly. Why would I invite him into a circle of stars and allow him to sabotage my business like he almost did yours? Darius slept with not one, not two, but all four of your top-level executives. And his poor ex-fiancée Maxine, Darius is responsible for that poor girl contracting HIV. If he’d kept his ‘chocolate dipstick, Slugger’ as you say he calls it, under control, Maxine would’ve never cheated.”

  Jada instantly wondered why she’d told Candice all of Darius’s business too. If Candice were to write a screenplay about Darius, Darius would never forgive her. “That was then. Darius is mature now.”

  “What? Are you serious? I saw him at the Mirage hotel with Crystal last week. Stood Crystal up when he saw me but thought I hadn’t seen him. Besides, Ciara was the only one smart enough to make my Terrell the leading actor. Everybody else was trying to impress me by selecting big box-office actors. To tell the truth, that’s the main reason I gave Ciara the exclusive.”

  “That was dumb. Stupid in fact. You’re not even sure if she’s qualified to handle the contract. I’m through with you—”

  “Again.”

  “Whatever. And Terrell’s old washed up behind could never play the role of my Wellington. Just so you won’t be surprised. I came here to tell you I’m going to sue you.”

  Candice gasped as her bottom lip fell toward her chin. “You can’t. I have every right to my script.”

  “Then you don’t have anything to worry about. Do you?” Jada dug her thumbs deeper into her pockets then shifted her weight from her right leg to her left.” By law you cannot plagiarize the life of anyone, except celebrities, and even with them you’d better be careful. You weren’t even smart enough to change the damn names.”

  “That’s because I thought you were my friend.”

  Terrell walked through the open door. “Hey, Jada. What brings you here? Darryl told me to tell you hello.”

  Now, Terrell was telling Jada about Darius’s selfish father. Thanks to Candice who told her husband everything, Terrell relayed to Darryl what was happening in Jada’s life.

  “Terrell, since you talk so much, you need to talk some sense into your wife. She cannot go forward with this movie.”

  Terrell stood between Candice and Jada. “Oh, she can and she will. Y’all not the only ones who deserve to be rich. Shit, my goal was to be a multi-millionaire by the time I turned forty. I’m three years behind but thanks to my baby, we’re one step away from signing a contract that’s going to make our bank accounts fat! Jada, get off your damn high horse and be happy for someone else for a change. As long as Candice was beneath you, she was good enough to be your friend. Now, you’re trying to block her blessings.”

  “What! Block her blessings? Beneath me?” Jada tugged on her pockets, narrowed her eyes at Candice, and said, “You actually said that nonsense to him?” Candice hadn’t said a word since Terrell walked into the house. “Oh, I see whose idea this was now. Candice, look at me.” Narrowing her eyes, Candice looked at Jada. “Tell me this screenplay was your idea and not Terrell’s.”

  “Baby, you don’t have to tell her a damn thing.” Terrell pointed toward the front door and said, “Jada, see yourself out.”

  “Fine, I’m gone. But I wouldn’t break out the champagne. If I were the two of you, I’d get the best damn attorney in town. I’ll see you in court!” Jada slammed the door and got in her car. Jada started to head home but figured she’d get no compassion there so she went to Darius’s house instead.

  Jada rang Darius’s doorbell several times.

  Darius opened the door holding his robe closed. “Mom?”

  “Hi, honey. I need to talk with you.”

  Tying the belt in a knot, Darius asked, “Mom, why didn’t you call first?” The last time Jada heard those words was when she first started dating Wellington and showed up at his house unannounced. Maybe if she had called first, the m�
�nage à trois she had with Wellington and Melanie would’ve never occurred.

  “If you’re too busy for your mother Darius, I can come back or call you later.”

  Darius sighed, “Naw, Ma. It’s okay. Come on in.”

  Jada walked through the foyer, into the kitchen, poured a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice, then joined Darius in the living room.

  “My company is still asleep, Ma, so keep it down. What’s so important that you had to talk at,” Darius looked at the time, “eight o’clock?”

  Jada sipped the juice. “I’ve decided to sue Candice.”

  Leaping from his seat, Darius yelled, “Are you crazy?! You can’t do that, Ma. The industry needs that film.”

  “Watch your words. The industry can live without my life story being broadcast on the big screen all over the world.” Sex on the beach, slow screws in her office, in garages, on the planes, Candice’s bathroom, anywhere Wellington wanted to have sex, Jada had agreed.

  “Oh, I see. This isn’t about Candice or Ciara or me being successful. This is about you and your highly respected reputation.”

  “Of course it is. If I’m associated with this production, I could lose my business. Why is everyone trying to make me the culprit when I’m the victim?”

  Darius bit his bottom lip then shook his head. “Ma, you’re always the victim. Nothing is ever your damn fault.”

  “Darius Jones, I just told you: don’t you use that word nor that tone with me!” Tears formed in Jada’s eyes.

  A sigh of disgust escaped Darius’s nostrils. “Ma, please don’t shed those fake tears. If you sue Candice, you’ll ruin my chances of making it big. I’m closer than ever to becoming Ciara’s partner.” Darius nodded toward his closed bedroom door.

  Ciara walked into the room wearing one of Darius’s robes. “Excuse me. Did I overhear you say you’re suing Candice? Jada, you can’t be serious.”

  Jada looked at Ciara, then squinted at Darius, and then looked back at Ciara. Jada dried her tears then shook her head. Clearly the robe was all that Ciara was wearing. “I’ve got to go, honey. I’ll call you later. And call your father. He needs to speak with you.”

 

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