My mom nodded her approval as she looked at me. “I like. I like.”
We made some more small talk before Alvin finally said, “Are you ready to go?”
“Don’t I look ready?” I asked, doing a slow twirl.
“That you do,” he replied. “That you do.”
We said our good-byes and made our way out to his fire-red Corvette. Twenty minutes later, we were pulling up to the American Airlines Arena. This was the first time the awards were being held somewhere other than L.A. and I needed to make sure I made a big splash. As soon as our limo pulled up to the red carpet, the show liaison met us at the door.
Alvin got out first, and the woman all but ignored him as she spoke to me. “Hello, Maya,” she said as I stepped out of the car. “Lovely Christian Dior.”
Okay, she’d redeemed herself. I smiled; that’s what I liked—a woman that was on her business and knew who she was dealing with.
“You look fabulous. How are you?” the woman asked. She actually looked like she should be walking on the red carpet herself in a slamming off-the-shoulder black sequined minidress.
“Thank you. And I’m fine,” I said.
“Hi, Maya.”
I turned to see Cassie, our station publicist, approaching. She had a clipboard and an earpiece, like she was really ready to work. My sometime-bodyguard, Mann, was behind her. He used to go everywhere with me, but I’d slacked off on using him because I really hated always having someone following me. The station had hired him after this stalker situation I’d experienced when I’d first started doing Rumor Central.
“Do you need anything?” Cassie asked me.
Different seats, I wanted to tell her. But I had come to terms with my balcony seats. I only hoped that once I got inside and they started taking me upstairs, I didn’t lose it. “Just ready to do this,” I said.
Cassie gave Alvin a half smile, and then turned and pointed toward the red carpet.
“Okay, Maya, they’re ready for you on the red carpet.”
She had a sign with my name on it. I guess she needed to hold it up to let the paparazzi know who I was. As if anyone here didn’t know who I was.
“Come on, Alvin—this way,” I said, taking his hand.
“No.” Cassie stopped, a horrified expression across her face. “Th-the red carpet is just for you.”
“Excuse me,” I said. These people were acting like Alvin was some sort of butt-ugly monster or something. He may have not been all fab, but he wasn’t as bad as everyone was trying to make him out to be. And tonight, he actually looked nice. “What about her?” I said, pointing to Cameron Diaz, who was posing on the red carpet with some unknown guy. “She has a date.”
“Um, yeah, but that’s Cameron Diaz,” Cassie replied.
“And I’m Maya Morgan,” I shot right back.
“Maya, it’s cool,” Alvin said. “I’ll just meet you in our seats.”
I wanted to protest some more, but he squeezed my arm reassuringly as he leaned in and whispered, “It’s not that serious. You know this isn’t my thing anyway.” He gave me a kiss on my cheek and said, “Go enjoy your limelight. I’ll be waiting for you inside.”
I could barely respond as Cassie shuttled me toward the red carpet.
“Maya!” a photographer yelled out as soon as I stepped out onto the carpet. “Are you here with J. Love?”
I wanted to curse him out, because he had just seen who I was here with, but I kept my smile and ignored his questions as more photographers called my name. I flashed my signature smile as I turned from spot to spot, letting them take pictures of my gown in its full essence, and then I turned around so they could get pictures of the elegant dip in the back of my dress.
“Gorgeous,” someone shouted.
“Nice!” someone else said.
“It sure is.”
I turned toward the voice and saw it was J. Love. He walked onto the red carpet—no, I take that back. He strutted on the red carpet, with a swag that sent the paparazzi into a frenzy and they immediately started hammering him with questions.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, ignoring them as he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.
I tried to maintain my smile for the cameras. But I really didn’t want the photographers taking pictures of us together. “You look nice yourself.” And that he did. I thought Alvin had brought it, but J. Love had taken it to a different stratosphere. I could tell his tux was custom, too, but he’d paired it with some Gucci high-top sneakers and a T-shirt. I knew he would definitely make the fashion blogs with that getup.
“So where’s your date?” he asked.
“He’s inside. Where’s yours?”
And then a reporter said, “Yeah, J. Love, where’s your date?”
At that point, J. Love turned to the photographer. “I’m rolling solo tonight, folks. If I can’t have the one I want”—he looked at me and winked—“I’ll just fly by myself.”
That, of course, elicited all kinds of chatter as reporters started scribbling on their notepads and the photographers started snapping away.
“What are the chances of you two getting back together?” someone yelled.
“Admit it, you two love each other.”
“You guys make the perfect couple,” someone else added.
The questions and comments were flying like crazy at us. And all I knew was that I needed to get away. I gave a polite wave as I tried to make my way down the red carpet.
“Wait up,” J. Love said, catching up with me.
“I don’t want to disrespect Alvin like this,” I said through my smile.
“Look at you, trying to have a heart.”
“I do have a heart,” I said. I leaned to his ear and whispered, “And it belongs to Alvin.”
“Not for long,” he said. “Believe that.” The smile left his face and he stared at me to let me know he was dead serious. I had to get away from him. I didn’t know what kind of game he was playing, but I wasn’t taking part.
“Bye, J. Love.”
“What I want, I usually get,” he called out after me.
I ignored him, as well as the continued shouts of the paparazzi, as I walked in to take my seat next to my boyfriend—in the balcony.
Chapter 9
I had just settled in at my desk when Yolanda poked her head into my office door. I was dead tired. The awards show hadn’t wrapped up until late last night. Then, I’d had to get up and get to school on time because I had a test in first period. I’d headed to the station right after school. I wished that I could’ve canceled today’s taping. But since that wasn’t an option, I was trying my best to just make it through the day.
“Hey, Yolanda. What’s up?” I said.
“There is someone at the front desk to see you.”
“Who?” I asked, surprised. They knew I was very selective in the visitors I allowed at the station and most people knew not to even bother me. As the host of one of the top TV entertainment shows in the country, I had fans who would try anything to get next to me. So the station usually kept a tight rein on who they let come see me.
“Who is it?” I asked again when she didn’t answer.
“Girl, it’s your ex.”
“My ex?” I said. I knew she wasn’t talking about Bryce Logan, whom I’d thought was my first love. Bryce knew better than to show up at the station. I had a couple of other exes but none worth mentioning. By the way Yolanda’s eyes lit up, I knew exactly who she was talking about.
“J. Love?” I asked.
She nodded with a smirk on her face. “I guess he meant it when he said he wasn’t giving you up.”
Yolanda had been there when J. Love had first declared he wasn’t going down without a fight. And of course, I was sure that she’d heard about his declaration on the red carpet last night since it was all over the blogs today. I’d thought he was just blowing smoke at first because J. Love could have any girl he wanted. I think the fact that I didn’t want him only made him want me more.
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“What does he want?” I asked her.
“I don’t know, but he and his six dozen roses want to see you.”
“Six dozen roses?”
Yolanda laughed. “Girl, half the staff is up there going crazy.”
I shook my head as I put my pen down and did a quick once-over of myself in the mirror to make sure I was still on point, which of course I was. I made my way up front to find J. Love entertaining Liz, the front desk receptionist.
“And to what do I owe this visit?” I asked as I walked out front.
“Uh, isn’t today Valentine’s Day?” J. Love asked.
“It’s May.”
“Oh dang, um, Mother’s Day?” he said with a smile.
“I’m not a mother.”
“Uh, how about Because Maya Morgan Is Beautiful day?” He looked at Liz. “You like the sound of that?”
Liz gushed like a stupid girl with a puppy-dog crush on someone. “I love it.”
“J., what do you want?” I asked, rolling my eyes. He could charm everyone else with that swag, but I wasn’t falling for it.
“I just wanted to see what time you get off of work.”
“That’s why they invented the phone. You could’ve called or texted.” I folded my arms across my chest and gave him a look to let him know that I didn’t have time for any BS.
“Since when have I done anything that ordinary folks do?”
“Whatever, J. Love. Again, what do you want?”
“You. You looked beautiful last night. I would’ve given anything to have had you on my arm. For real.”
I pulled him to the side, out of hearing range of Liz’s nosey behind. “What’s with you? What part of ‘I’m in a relationship’ do you not get?”
He tried to hug me, but I stepped back, away from his embrace.
“Babe, enough with the charity work. You’ve proven your point. Now come home to daddy,” he said. He tried to seem like he was joking, but I could tell that he really wasn’t.
I actually was offended by his words. Alvin wasn’t charity.
“Excuse me, you don’t know anything about my guy. I’ll have you know—”
“Whoa, whoa.” He held up his hands. “Before you start going off, I just want you to know that I was just messing with you. I don’t mean to disrespect your man. I just wanted to know if you could come with me.”
“Come with you where, J. Love?” I asked, exasperated.
“I’m performing at the Grammys and I need a date,” he said with a confident smile.
I gave him a serious side eye. The Grammys?
“Seriously,” he said, reading the doubt on my face. “I’m performing.”
Performing? Wow. My mom would so not feel me going to L.A. with J. Love, but how could I pass up a chance to go to the Grammys with one of the performers? Because you have a boyfriend, that’s how, the little voice in my head quickly reminded me.
“I’m sure you don’t have any problems getting a date,” I finally said.
“I need a date as fine as you,” he said. With a big grin on his face, he continued. “My publicist didn’t like me rollin’ solo to the Icon Awards. She told me to get someone like Meagan Good or Keke Palmer or even Demi Lovato, but I told her that none of them measure up to you.”
“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes again. I had to give it to him—J. Love had major game, even though it didn’t work on me.
“Aww,” Liz said. I shot her a look to get out of my conversation.
I turned back to him and let out a long, heavy sigh. “J. Love, I’m in a relationship. I can’t be going to your events with you.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we? You can’t go as my friend? Come on, Maya. It’s good pub for us both.”
My hands went to my hips. “So, that’s why you want me to go? Because it’s good pub for us both?”
“No. I want you to go because you know how I feel about you. But yes, I love the way you look on my arm and you have to admit, I look good on your arm, too.”
He was right about that, and I needed something to offset that horrible picture that had been on the front of the Miami Hot Gossip magazine this morning. They had gotten the worst-looking picture of Alvin they could find and plastered it all over the cover. It was utterly disgusting.
“Just come as my friend,” he continued. “It’s a chance to see and be seen in L.A. I mean, I know you’re large already, but this is your chance to take it to the next level—I’m talking some Oprah/Wendy type of stuff.”
Oprah? Wendy? J. knew just what to say to get to me.
“Let me think about it,” I finally said, even though I already knew I was going to try to do everything in my power to go. I just needed to figure out how.
He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, and then he took my hand and dropped something in the middle of it. “Let this Tiffany necklace help you think about it.”
“Boy, I can buy my own Tiff—oh my God, this is the new platinum collection,” I said, holding up the necklace. “It isn’t even out yet.”
“It is for J. Love.” He winked, his confidence on full display. “Hopefully, you won’t keep me waiting too long. I’ll talk to you later.” He left me standing there in the middle of the lobby.
As I turned to head back inside, Liz said, “If you don’t want the necklace, I’ll take it.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “I bet you would,” I said as I wrapped the necklace around my neck and headed back to my office.
Chapter 10
Today was just a research day at the station, which meant we weren’t taping. I was just digging for information. I usually hated research days, but I was actually in a good mood today. I had finally gotten an A on a freaking test. And Alvin had surprised me by paying for my senior portraits. Of course, it wasn’t the money that was a big deal. It was the thought. I smiled as I thought of how Alvin was always doing sweet things. Even though he wasn’t as rich as J., he was still rich and could afford to buy me whatever I wanted. But it was the thoughtful little things he did that made his gestures so sweet.
You think he’d be sweet enough to let you go to the Grammys with J.?
I quickly shook off that thought. Where had that come from? I’d had a nice time at the Icon Awards with Alvin, even though I’d almost died several times when people noticed me sitting in the balcony. But overall, it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be. So, I had convinced myself that I was going to have to pass on J.’s offer, no matter how bad I wanted to go.
I rounded the corner and bumped into Nelly Fulton, a fairly new girl at our school and the winner of the X Factor last season. She might have just transferred to our school, but she bounced around here like she was the star of Miami High.
“Oh, hey, Nelly,” I said. Nelly was a blond, doe-eyed beauty who reminded me of an edgier Carrie Underwood. She was a pop singer and had been an X Factor favorite from the start. She’d captured America’s heart with her sob story: an orphan after a tragic accident took the lives of her parents, she was homeless in New York until someone heard her singing and suggested she try out for X Factor. Personally, her whole backstory sounded contrived to me, but it had worked and she’d won hands down. I’d heard she had come to Miami High because her record producer and her foster parents lived here and they insisted that she finish high school.
“Hi, Maya,” Nelly sang.
“What are you doing up here at the station?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m leaving a meeting,” she said with that stupid grin. She always wore that stupid grin.
“What kind of meeting?”
She made a motion like she was zipping her lips. “It’s top secret.”
I don’t know what it was about Nelly, but I wasn’t feeling her. She seemed so phony to me. She reminded me of these creatures from this movie I saw called Gremlins. They looked all sweet and cute, but would bite you as soon as you let your guard down.
“Wish I could tell you, but I can’t,” she added.
I bet
they were trying to bring some type of singing show to the station for her to host. I’d heard some rumors about that. Whatever, as long as they didn’t mess with my show.
“Okay, well, good luck with your meeting,” I said, making my way on back to my office. I’d been in the archive room looking for some background information on another story I was working on.
I really couldn’t be concerned with Nelly right now. My research days were supposed to be spent finding stories, and I was starting to bleed my story well dry.
I’d already exposed the cheerleaders at my school for taking part in a little cheerleading escort service. I’d blown the cover off the Bling Ring, a group of kids from my school that used to go around breaking into celebrities’ homes. And, I’d gotten to the bottom of a new drug that was sweeping Miami called K2 (that’s the drama Travis got me caught up in. Turns out, he was unknowingly selling the deadly drug). But since I’d done all of that, not to mention interviews with all the celebs that contacted me on their own, I’d run some pretty cool stories. I didn’t know how I was supposed to keep digging up stories of that caliber. And to be honest, as much as I loved my job, I was starting to feel like that was getting kind of old. I was ready for my next challenge in life. The problem was, I didn’t know what that challenge was.
My thoughts were interrupted when I saw Kennedi trying to FaceTime me. I slid the button to connect and said, “Hello, K.”
“Hey, what are you doing?” she asked.
“Just working. What are you doing?”
She sighed heavily. “I just got off the phone with Kendrick.”
I fought back my groan. Kendrick was Kennedi’s ex. She loved him like crazy. She loved him so much, it had made her crazy and she’d found herself right in the middle of an abusive relationship. And Kennedi had turned out to be the main one doing the abusing. Her parents had made her go to therapy because Kennedi had dang near lost her mind behind that boy. I thought she had come to terms with her obsessive behavior with Kendrick, or at least she’d told the therapist that she’d come to terms. But talking with him now couldn’t be a good thing.
My silence must’ve concerned her because she said, “Don’t worry. My therapist suggested I call and apologize as a way to heal. So I did. He tried to talk about us getting together, and I turned him down.”
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