That janitor had been all too happy to sell the story about the small-town girl who had decided to seize her chance at stardom by pretending to be more than ten years younger. He said he’d remained quiet all these years because he didn’t want to out his daughter. But since she’d blown off his attempts to rebuild their relationship, he’d decided to make a little money off the story.
I didn’t know if he actually was her father. I didn’t even really care. He’d given me enough proof that she wasn’t who she claimed to be, and that was all I needed. I was sure that the media would dig a whole slew of bones out of Nadra Franklin’s closet.
That janitor just didn’t know. That was the best thousand dollars I’d ever spent.
Chapter 41
When my mom called me into the kitchen to sit and talk, I just knew she was about to light into me about what had gone down last night. She hated for me to get “down in the gutter” and preferred that I take the high road. But I had to get her to see there was no high road with Nelly Fulton.
“So, you’re all over the news today,” my mom said.
“I know,” I said. “And I know you probably don’t approve of what I did.”
“Well, I’ve learned that you have a lot more spunk than your mom. You get that from your father.” She patted my hand. “So I’m sure you had your reasons.”
“I did,” I said, grateful that I wasn’t getting a tongue lashing. “I just couldn’t let her win.”
My mom nodded her understanding. “You know I will still always prefer the high road, but I understand sometimes you have to meet people where they are. And I also know revenge is best served cold.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means that in order to successfully complete an act of revenge, one must be without emotions when carrying out those plans. Emotions will make you lose focus on what you are trying to accomplish, and possibly ruin the act itself. You took your time and thought about this, right? And still decided it was something you needed to do?”
I nodded. “I did. I didn’t just react without thinking.”
“Then, you did what you had to do.” She smiled and we talked for another thirty minutes. It was a rare, intimate conversation. Sometimes my mom got on my nerves, but I did enjoy when we just sat and talked about everything under the sun.
We’d been talking about Alvin and she was giving me advice, relaying the story of her first love and how she’d thought that she’d never get over him.
I was about to ask her a question when my phone rang. I’d been ignoring calls all day, but this one was from Black Tie Productions, the company doing the movie.
“Mom, hold on. I have to get this,” I said, pushing the TALK button. “Hello, this is Maya.”
“Hi, Maya. This is Robin Teague, assistant production director.”
“How are you?”
“I’m well, thanks. Excited about this project. I’m not going to hold you. I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to courier over the final script. We’re actually set to film in Miami in three weeks, so I’ll need you to get right on your lines. We think you and J. Love are going to be fantastic.”
At the mention of J. Love’s name, I groaned. Did I really want to work with him after all that we had been through? Since I wasn’t ready to quit the movie, I said, “Okay, that’s great. I’ll get right on it.”
After I hung up and explained the situation to my mother, she said, “I am so proud of you. And yes, you can work with J. Love. Do your job and ignore him the rest of the time.”
I smiled. She was right. I’d exacted enough revenge. I was just going to do me.
We talked some more, and then my dad walked in, setting his briefcase on the counter.
“How are my two favorite ladies?” He kissed my mom on the lips, then kissed me on the top of the forehead.
“We are great,” my mother said. “But guess what? Your daughter is about to officially be a movie star now.”
“I thought she was already a star.” He winked in my direction.
“Movie star,” my mother replied. “She got the role in the new Hype Lee film. And they start filming it right after graduation.”
“I didn’t know she was up for a role in the new Hype Lee film. Nobody tells me anything around here.” He playfully pouted. “And since I’m the primary investor in that film, you’d think I’d know these things.”
That made me and my mom do a double take. “What do you mean, primary investor?” I asked.
My dad loosened his tie. “You remember I told you I acquired that production company, Black Tie Productions?” he said to my mom. “I have a majority holding.”
“What?” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Yes, why didn’t you tell us?” my mom echoed.
“Um, because neither of you ever have any interest in my business. You just want to spend the money my businesses make.” He removed his tie and set it across his briefcase.
“And that sounds like it’s going to be pretty lucrative,” my mom said with a sly smile.
“Remember, you’re on a budget,” my dad replied, pointing a playful warning finger at my mom.
“Budget, smudget,” my mom said, waving him off. She didn’t pay him any attention when he complained about money. For her, a budget meant that she could only shop in Paris once a month, instead of twice.
“Okay, Dad, for real. What does that mean, since you’re the investor?” My mind was churning.
“It means I pay for everything,” my dad said, looking at me like he couldn’t figure out why I was quizzing him. He was right, I’d never shown one iota of interest in his business. But that was before he got in the movie business.
“I’ll be paying your salary,” my dad continued. “So that means you work for me.”
“Oh, I need a raise then.” I giggled. But then, it dawned on me. Maybe I wasn’t through getting my revenge after all. The perfect payback. “I do have a question, Dad. As the majority holder, you really call the shots, right?”
“Yeah, pretty much. But that’s why you hire competent people. I try to step back and let them do what they do.”
I stood and eased over to him. “Daddyyyyy,” I said in my little girl voice. “I do need you to do something.”
“What?” He gave me a side eye.
“Well, you know I would never ask something like this, but it’s pretty important.”
“Oh, spit it out. What is it?”
Even my mom was looking at me funny, trying to figure out what I was up to.
“J. Love is supposed to be the star of that movie. I play his girlfriend.”
“Okay?”
“I don’t want him in the movie.”
“What?”
It was time for me to put my acting chops to work. “Daddy, J. Love hurt me really bad. He broke me and Alvin up, then he was just so mean to me.” And, for good measure, I threw in, “And the last time I was over there, I thought he was going to hit me.”
“Hit you?” my dad exclaimed. His whole body tensed up like he was about to go into attack mode.
I made sure I cleared that up before my dad was out the door. “But he didn’t! I was just worried that he would because he has such an awful temper. That’s why I broke up with him, because he’s just an awful person and well, I really want this role, but I just don’t feel safe with him.” I lowered my head, like I was really sad. “I was just telling Mom that I didn’t want to take the role because I didn’t want to work with him.”
“Oh, no!” my dad exclaimed. “Nobody messes with my baby.”
“I really don’t want to work with him.” I dabbed at my eyes, even though there weren’t any tears there (guess I still had some work to do on my acting).
“Well, if I had known you were even interested in acting, I would’ve told you, but now that I know that this is something you want, and you’re serious about it, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, I just don’t want to do it with J. Love.”
“Then I’ll make a call. If they want my money, they’ll get rid of J. Love.”
“I mean, I don’t want to mess with your business,” I added for good measure.
“You know I usually don’t mix business with personal affairs. But I also don’t play when it comes to my princess.” He stroked my hair. “You don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.”
“Are you sure you can do that?” I asked.
“The man with the money calls the shots. Consider it done.”
I gave him an innocent smile as I hugged him. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Of course, sweet pea,” he said. “I’m going to make that call right now.”
I watched him walk out of the kitchen, and then I turned around to see my mother staring at me as she shook her head. “And the Academy Award goes to my daughter, Maya Morgan,” she said.
I braced myself for her to fuss at me, but instead she smiled and said, “I raised you well.”
Chapter 42
I told these people I wasn’t the one to mess with. But I guess they had to see it for themselves. I wrapped that revenge up in a nice little bow and served it on a silver platter. I leaned back on the sofa and smiled as I watched the TV.
Nelly, or rather Nadra, was scrambling to run from the paparazzi, as they’d been hounding her ever since the story broke. She’d released a statement saying that she was going to rehab to “deal with personal demons” relating to the way she’d been raised. But other than that, she hadn’t addressed the issue. But that hadn’t stopped the media from hounding her.
“Nelly, why did you do it?” one of the reporters called out after her.
I laughed as she raced to get inside the car.
“Well, as you can see,” the Inside Edition anchor said, “Nelly Fulton, aka Nadra Franklin, had nothing to say to our cameras. But those that used to know her in the small town of Chattahoochee, Florida, had plenty to say. Our reporter Alisa Moore is there with the story.”
The camera switched to the high school I had visited. Two women were standing next to the reporter as she began talking.
“Good afternoon,” the reporter began. “Since she won X Factor, we’ve all thought Nelly Fulton was an orphan from New York, but we’re slowly learning that was all part of a story carefully crafted by an ambitious woman who decided to carve out her second chance.” The reporter turned to two women standing next to her. Both of them looked like they had lived a hard life. They both had long stringy blond hair, brown, rotting teeth, and wrinkled skin, and one looked like she was one biscuit away from exploding.
“I’m here with Rebecca and Sally. Ladies, tell us again how you knew Nelly?” the reporter asked.
“Nadra—we didn’t know Nelly,” the first girl said. The name on the screen identified her as Rebecca. “But we all went to school together here in Chattahoochee.”
“And I understand you have a yearbook,” the reporter said, pointing to the book in the girl’s hand.
“Yep.” She held up the yearbook and turned it around to face the camera. “Chattahoochee Middle School, 1995,” the girl said, doing a Vanna White move as she pointed to the book. She then opened it up. “Nadra Franklin,” she said, pointing to a picture of a redheaded girl with oversized glasses and two big front teeth, looking like Peter Rabbit.
“That’s Nadra right there,” Sally said, tapping the photo. “Before her nose job. She always has been uppity. Poor as dirt but always tried to act like she was better than everybody else.”
“So, did you all know that Nelly Fulton was actually Nadra Franklin?” the reporter asked.
“No,” Rebecca said.
Sally triumphantly leaned in. “I did. When she was on X Factor, I tried to tell everybody that she looked just like Nadra, and everybody thought I was crazy.”
“But everything we read said that Nelly was eighteen at the time,” Rebecca said. “We all knew that that couldn’t be right, so we didn’t think it was the same person. I mean, really, who would lie over something like that?”
That was the million-dollar question I had asked myself. It’s not like X Factor even has an age limit like American Idol. So there was no need for Nadra to lie. Guess she’d figured America would have much more sympathy for a young orphan girl.
“Why do you think she lied?” the reporter asked.
“She always has been a liar,” Sally added. “When she was in third grade, she said her real parents were Hollywood stars. She said her meth-head mama adopted her.”
“What happened to her parents?” the reporter asked.
“Her mother died when we were sophomores in high school and don’t nobody know who her daddy is,” Rebecca said.
I know, I thought to myself. The janitor told me he’d been a married father of two when he’d gotten Nelly’s mother, a local drug addict, pregnant. He’d never claimed Nelly and, in fact, had moved his family away to escape the gossip. He’d said he’d only moved back to Chattahoochee about five years ago.
“Nadra moved to go live with relatives and that’s the last we heard of her,” Sally added.
Whatever her reasoning, Nelly had really screwed herself up by doing this. I’d read yesterday that X Factor was thinking about taking her title away and giving it to the first runner-up, claiming Nelly was guilty of fraud.
“Well, there you have it,” the reporter said, turning my attention back to the TV. “Old friends of Nelly Fulton—”
“Nadra,” Sally corrected.
“Nadra,” the reporter said. “Of course, we’ll stay on top of this story and bring you more as we get it. Back to you.”
I could only shake my head. I didn’t know where Nadra would end up, but maybe she would think twice before she screwed over the next person.
I flipped through the TV and started looking for something else to watch when the buzzer rang, letting me know somebody was at the gate. I glanced at the security system, and rolled my eyes when I saw Tamara of all people. I started not to buzz her in, but I had been waiting on this day. I needed to see her face-to-face, if for no other reason than to gloat.
I walked over to meet Tamara at the front door. I didn’t know why she was here. The lawsuit had been thrown out, but I supposed she was coming here to apologize. At least, she needed to be coming here to apologize.
I watched her pull her silver Bentley into our circular driveway and then strut up the walkway like the true diva that she was. But I was no longer impressed with Tamara. She’d proven to be as ruthless as they come, and I had almost followed in her footsteps. I was glad that I hadn’t.
“Hey, Maya,” she said as she approached the doorway.
“Hey,” was all I replied. I wasn’t going to be nasty, but I wasn’t going to fake the funk either.
“Can I come in?” Tamara asked.
I didn’t say a word as I stepped aside and motioned for her to come in.
She looked around our grand foyer. “I always have loved the color scheme in here,” she said, taking in the copper-colored walls. “Your mother has such exquisite taste.”
“I’m sure you didn’t come over here to talk décor,” I told her as I closed the front door. “So how can I help you?”
She turned to face me, moving her Hermès bag to her other arm. “Look, let me just get straight to the point.”
“That’s always best,” I replied.
She took a deep breath, then said, “I’m sorry. You were right. We shouldn’t have tried to bring Nelly on board.”
I just raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say a word.
“I’m sure you can imagine this has been a disaster for Rumor Central and the execs are having a stroke. We’re about to go into the summer blockbuster season. MTV has that new show coming that is supposed to rival Rumor Central, and now is just not the time for us to be trying to start over.”
I gave her an And I care because? look, but still kept quiet.
“So I’m just here to say I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” was
all I replied.
“And um, we were wondering . . .” She paused and took a deep breath. “We were hoping that you’d consider returning to Rumor Central.”
I couldn’t help it. That actually made a smile come back on my face, and that seemed to make her relax some.
“I mean, I know you were upset about the way everything went down, and we’d be willing to give you a significant pay raise—”
“You know this was never about the money with me,” I was quick to tell her.
“I know that, but we want to show you how sorry we are and to make this right. Yes, Rumor Central has some issues, but we believe in the show, the public still likes the show, and I think if we sit down and put our heads together we can figure out a way to make this thing right.”
I actually laughed at that. “You know, I enjoyed my time at Rumor Central,” I told her. “It really brought me to the next level. I’ll give you guys that, but it was me and my hard work and connections that made the show. And somewhere along the way, you seem to have forgotten that.”
“Okay, you’re right.” Tamara sighed. “What can I say? Just come back and we’ll fix it.”
I looked as if I was weighing what she was saying, and then finally I said, “You know what? I’m flattered. I really am. I’d like nothing more than to return to Rumor Central.”
A look of relief crossed her face, and I quickly held up my hand before she could say anything.
“But I think it’s best that we continue our separate ways.”
“Excuse me?” She had the nerve to look dumbfounded, like she’d never expected me to say no. She must not have known me at all.
I walked back over to the door. “Tamara, I have no desire to return to Rumor Central, or to you and your backstabbing team of producers, so good luck finding a replacement. Good luck cleaning up the mess that Nelly—I’m sorry—that Nadra Franklin made, and please leave my house.”
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