Their laughter died down. “Chill, don’t get all sensitive. You know we like Alvin, but we’re just being real,” Sheridan said. “Besides, you’ve been complaining all evening about them bringing Nelly on to cohost your show. What kind of press do you think she’s going to get dating Ross Nixon? You need some positive press.”
I knew that, but what was I supposed to do?
“I mean, of course I want to go to the Grammys,” I finally admitted. “But how am I going to do that when I’m with Alvin?”
Kennedi shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’d be trying to figure out a way.”
“I know,” Sheridan said, snapping her fingers like she’d just come up with a great idea. “Alvin really is a sweetheart. If he knows you want to go, he won’t mind you going.”
“Yeah, right,” I said. That was her solution? “He already told me he wasn’t feeling J. Love.”
“No, seriously,” Sheridan replied, getting excited like she’d really figured something out. “Just hear me out. All you’ve got to do is just ask him.”
“I’m not about to come right out and ask him that,” I replied. I wouldn’t be able to ever look him in the face, asking some mess like that.
We sat thinking for a moment, then Kennedi said, “I know. Why don’t you send a text and make it out like you were going to send it to me or something, but you send it to him instead. Like it’s a mistake. And the text could just say how much you really want to go to the Grammys, but you don’t think Alvin would understand and how there’s nothing going on with J. Love, but you just really want to go.”
“Like he’s going to buy that,” Sheridan said, turning up her lips.
“Do you have a better idea?” Kennedi asked. Since Sheridan shut up, I guess that meant that she didn’t.
I thought about what Kennedi was saying. Alvin was a sweetheart and if I could convince him that nothing was going on between me and J., maybe I could work this out.
“Okay, I can get with that,” I told them, nodding. “That may be just what I need.”
“Thank you, and that’ll be two tickets to the after party,” Kennedi said with a big grin.
“The Grammys are in L.A.,” I replied, finally smiling.
“That’s okay, we’ll fly out,” Kennedi said.
“We sure will,” Sheridan replied.
I laughed. My girls had come through for me. Now, I could only hope that everything would work out as easy as they thought.
Chapter 14
I stared at the text again, trying to get up the nerve to press SEND. But for some reason, this was a whole lot harder than I thought it would be. I knew seeing this text would hurt Alvin, but I really and truly didn’t know what else to do. Nelly was moving in fast on my territory. I could try to take the high road all I wanted, but I was in the business of branding and I was starting to wonder if everyone was right that Alvin was bad for my brand.
I hadn’t been able to get that hunk Ross Nixon off my mind. How Nelly had pulled someone like that was beyond me. Granted, she was cute and all, but Ross was major.
I glanced over at the tabloid magazine Tamara had handed to me on my way out the door today. Nelly and Ross were hugged up, and I’ll admit it, they looked good together. And if Ross was bringing up her stock, were my friends right? Was Alvin bringing mine down?
“Stop procrastinating and send it,” I mumbled. I read the text one more time.
Girl, I don’t want to hurt Alvin but the station is threatening to fire me if I don’t go to the Grammys w/J. What am I gonna do?????
I exhaled, pressed SEND, and waited. I knew Alvin was at home. He’d called me about thirty minutes ago and told me he was in for the day.
On cue, not even a full five minutes later, my cell phone rang.
“Hello,” I said, trying to sound upbeat.
“Hey, Maya, what’s going on?” His tone was measured like he was weighing his words.
“Nothing, babe. Just on my way home from the station,” I chirped. “What are you doing?”
He paused. “Reading this text that you must’ve been trying to send to one of your girls.”
“What?” I said, sounding shocked. “What are you . . . OMG. I . . . that . . . oh, wow. That wasn’t meant for you.” I hoped that I sounded convincing.
“Obviously,” he said. I could just picture him pacing back and forth across his living room.
“Alvin, I am sooo sorry. I didn’t mean to send that to you,” I lied.
“So, the station is talking about firing you if you don’t go on a date with your ex?”
“Alvin, oh my God. I—I, no, let’s not talk about it.”
“No. I want to talk about it,” he demanded. “They’re seriously talking about firing you?”
I sighed, trying to act like I really didn’t want to say anything. “It’s the Grammys. J. invited me to be his guest—for publicity purposes,” I quickly added. “You know how Tamara and the other producers keep trying to tell me that I need to do stuff for the Rumor Central brand. They think me going to the Grammys would be good PR.”
“So, going on a date with your ex is good PR?” he said, like he couldn’t believe what I was saying.
I felt really bad, but I’d come this far. I had to see it all the way through. “It’s not even like that.”
“So, what is it like then, Maya?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Do you want to go?” he asked pointedly.
I still didn’t say a word.
“Answer me, Maya!”
His tone made me jump.
“Okay, yeah, of course I want to go to the Grammys.”
Silence filled the phone. “Then you should go,” he finally said.
“Really?” I said, a little too excitedly.
“Wow,” he replied like he was stunned by my excitement. But he exhaled, then said, “Yeah. Really. Since this is obviously something you want, go for it.”
I wanted to jump for joy. That was why I loved Alvin. Most guys wouldn’t be this understanding. I wanted to chitchat with him some more, but now that I knew I was going to the Grammys, my focus needed to be on looking fabulous. I needed to get off the phone with Alvin so I could call J. Love and let him know. Then I needed to begin planning so that I could take L.A. by storm.
Chapter 15
This is the life that I was meant to live. I loved covering the red carpet, but I loved being covered on the red carpet a whole lot more.
“Maya! J. Love!” Paparazzi and reporters were yelling our names from every direction. And as if we were completely in sync with one another, J. Love and I turned and smiled.
He was right about one thing. We made an awesome couple.
J. hadn’t seemed surprised when I’d called and told him I would go—almost as if he’d known without a doubt that I’d give in. So, this past week had been filled with beauty appointments—nails, spa, hair, shopping. Of course, my mom wasn’t having me going off to L.A. with a guy, but then she had the not-so-brilliant idea to come with me (just another excuse to go shopping in Beverly Hills if you asked me). I didn’t sweat it, though, because she was super excited and had found me the perfect gown in a Rodeo Drive boutique, had them overnight it, then had alterations done in twenty-four hours. She was making sure everything was on point for my Grammy debut.
“Are there plans to tie the knot?” someone shouted from the crowd of media people.
“Wow, can I get out of high school before you start trying to marry me off?” I joked.
“Yeah, I’m not the marrying type,” J. Love said. “But if I were to get married, it would definitely be to someone like her.” He smiled and pulled me closer, and the paparazzi ate it up. If Tamara and the others were worried about my stock, this should definitely bring it back up.
“Right this way,” our escort said when we reached the end of the red carpet.
I let J. lead me into the coliseum, to our seats on the third row. I was no groupie, but if I was, I would’ve done a little dance
when they sat me down with Pharrell on one side of me and Kevin Hart on the other.
“Hey, what’s up, J.?” Pharrell said, standing and greeting J. Love.
I did a little wave at him as J. Love dapped him. “It’s all you,” J. replied.
“Congrats, man. I heard Hype Lee was directing your new video,” he said.
J. nodded. “Yeah, that’s a big deal.”
“I still need to holla at you about that collaboration,” Pharrell said.
“Oh, you don’t have time for me,” J. Love joked. “You too busy being happy.”
“I make time for you, my man,” he replied.
They laughed and joked some more. J. spoke to several other celebs and introduced me to a few, before taking his seat. I loved how J. Love just commanded a room. People respected him everywhere he went.
This would definitely be a night to remember. I think the best moment came when J. Love finally took the stage. He gave a performance that rivaled Usher and Chris Brown’s much-talked-about previous performances. He was on point and I sat there smiling like I was his proud girlfriend or something.
“He was so good,” the girl behind me leaned up and whispered after the crowd had given J. Love a standing ovation.
“Thank you.”
“You two make such a cute couple.”
All I could do was flash her a smile.
After J.’s performance, we went to a commercial break and someone with an earpiece and a clipboard came over and lightly tapped me on the shoulder.
“Miss Morgan, Mr. Love requests your presence backstage,” the man said.
I smiled proudly as I followed the man backstage. There was a lot of activity going on backstage, and I almost passed out when I passed Beyoncé in the hallway. But I wasn’t about to be a groupie, so I just said, “Hey, how are you?” as I passed.
She gave me a genuine smile and replied, “Fine. Thank you,” before disappearing around a corner.
“In here,” the man said, motioning for me to go into an oversized dressing room.
“Hey, you,” I said, tapping on the door.
There were several people in there, including a few I recognized—his business manager, his publicist, and a few of his boys.
“Hey, I would’ve brought you back earlier, but I wanted you to see it from the audience,” J. Love said as a sound guy removed his microphone from under his shirt.
“No, you were fantastic,” I said.
He leaned in and kissed me, and it actually caught me off guard.
“Thank you for coming here. You made this night special.”
“No, thank you for having me. I’m having a wonderful time.”
“Did you see Shaun Robinson from Access Hollywood outside?” he asked.
“No, what is she doing out there?”
“She wanted to interview us. She said everybody is loving us. So much so, that the people at Essence want to put us on the cover of next month’s—”
“J. . . . ”
He held up his hand. “But we’re not going to talk about that right now. I told her we’d get with her later, but I told you, girl. Me and you are so good together.”
I just stood there and smiled.
“Next year you’re going to have to make sure you’re here, because I know your boy will be nominated, not just performing. My album didn’t drop in time to make this year’s nominations.”
I had no doubt not only would he be nominated, but he’d win.
He hugged me again, and said, “All right, baby, let’s get changed then we can go and enjoy the rest of the show.”
“So, did you enjoy yourself?” J. Love said as we sat in the back of the car heading back to the hotel. I really wished that I could stay in L.A., but it was finals time and I didn’t have a choice. I was on the first flight out in the morning. What was so jacked up was that my mom was staying a few extra days to shop.
“I did. I had a nice time. So, thank you again for inviting me.” I slipped my stilettos off.
“I told you. Did you see the way everyone ate up our appearance?”
“Yeah, we do make a cute couple.” I smiled at him. “Too bad we’re not really a couple.”
He looked at me in all seriousness. “Well, that can be changed.”
“Come on, J. . . .”
“I know. I know. You got a man,” he said, singing a popular line from one of his chart-topping songs. “You know how I feel about you. But I’ll keep it strictly business. I can do that because I know that sooner or later, you’ll come around.”
“Whatever.”
He flashed that cocky expression. “I told you, I always get what I want.” Before I could protest, he changed the subject. “But I did want to talk to you because I want you to be in my new video, the one Pharrell was talking about.”
I struggled to contain my excitement. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, the studio is pumping a lot of money into this record. It’s my new cut, ‘A Love Like This,’ mixing some old-school beats, with the new-school flavor.”
“It sounds like it’s gonna be hot.”
“It is, but I know how we can make it hotter.”
“How?”
“Have you as the star. We had Taraji, but she got a movie she’s shooting and I thought who’s as hot as Taraji? And it dawned on me that I knew someone hotter.”
My eyebrows raised. Taraji was quite hot for an old woman, but of course, I was hotter.
I leaned back in the seat. A video?
“I’m not a video vixen, you know?” I felt the need to remind him.
“Of course I know that. I just want you to take the part. So what do you say?”
A video? I was just complaining about Rumor Central and wanting to try something new. While I’d never want a career as a video girl, it might be fun to do.
“You know, I think I’d like it,” I finally replied.
“You know, I know you would,” he said. He pulled me closer to him and I couldn’t help it, I snuggled in closer. “I told you, girl, you and me together . . . we can conquer the world.”
I don’t know why, but his words actually made me sad. Maybe because a part of me felt like he was right and since my heart belonged to another, there was nothing I could do about it.
Chapter 16
It was about to be some major drama in my relationship. When Alvin called me today and simply said, “Are you back home? I’m on my way,” I knew things were about to get ugly. I’d gotten home from L.A. early this morning. J. had wanted me to stay, but I was down to the wire with the grades. I’d struggled through the day and was so tired. I just wanted to get home and rest, but it didn’t look like I’d be resting any time soon.
“What’s up?”
He refused to say anything else or answer any questions and I knew this wasn’t going to be good. I glanced down at the Miami Hot Gossip magazine. The headline screamed at me: BACK IN LOVE.
J. Love and I were snuggled up together in the cover photo like we truly were in love. I knew that’s what had my boyfriend on fire. The minute I’d seen the picture this morning, I’d known there was going to be trouble. I didn’t even remember when it had been taken, but we were definitely all up under each other like we truly were back in love.
The doorbell rang and our maid, Sui, made a beeline to get it. But I jumped up.
“I got it!” I snapped.
Sui just shook her head at me and turned and walked out the room. Luckily, Sui had been with us long enough to mind her own business, so she headed back upstairs without saying a word.
I swung the door open. “Hey,” I said, trying to be perky and smiley. I was still tired because of that early-morning flight. I’d gotten to school in time for my fifth-period final and then I’d come straight home, hoping I could rest before having to deal with this mess.
Alvin didn’t say a word as he pushed past me.
“Well, hello to you, too,” I said, losing my smile.
He spun around to face me and waved the rol
led-up Miami Hot Gossip magazine in my face. “Seriously, Maya?”
“What?” I said, playing dumb. I took the magazine, opened it up, then acted like I was just as shocked as he was.
“Don’t try to act like you haven’t seen this. You’ve been at school all day. Somebody told you about it. You could’ve called me and warned me.”
“I haven’t seen it. I don’t know anything about this,” I said, defensively.
“Whatever, Maya.” He pointed to the table behind me. “So, why is the magazine sitting over there?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Sui reads that mess. I hadn’t had a chance to look at anything. Why are you trippin’?”
He thumped the magazine. “You’re really gonna ask me why I’m trippin’? My girl is on the front of a gossip rag with her ex with a headline that reads, ‘Back in Love.’ You don’t see anything wrong with that?”
I wanted to tell him that he needed to remember who he was talking to and lower his voice, but I knew the picture was bad and he was pissed, so I was going to give him a pass.
“Since when did you become jealous?”
“Since my girl started blatantly disrespecting me,” he snapped.
Sometimes, I missed the nerdy Alvin. He’d always shown me that he had a little umph in him. But since we’d officially gotten together, I’d seen less of that and more of the do-whatever-I-say Alvin.
“It’s no big deal. You know how the media is,” I said.
“Yeah, I know how you guys are,” he said. “But you gave them the ammunition.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
He opened the magazine to the centerfold picture and shook it at me. “Look at your face, Maya. Look how you’re looking at him. You look like you’re in love.”
“That’s called acting,” I replied. Alvin was right. The picture was so out of order. I didn’t even remember taking it. “Look, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t trying—”
“Why do you need to act like you’re with someone else when I’m supposed to be your boyfriend?” he asked, interrupting me.
“I was just playing it up for the cameras.” I sighed, but I really wasn’t in the mood for arguing. I was exhausted and the last thing I felt like doing was arguing with my boyfriend.
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