Diamond Playgirls

by Daaimah S. Poole; Miasha; King Deja; T. Styles

  But there were other things to concentrate on for the moment. Monday morning she had an interview with Posh magazine.

  Out of all the publishing companies in New York City, Posh was the only place Chloe wanted to work. The magazine had debuted in 2000 and become the number-one lifestyle magazine virtually overnight.

  The reasons for the success of Posh were that it blended high fashion with a bit of tabloid gossip, high-profile celebrities of every genre graced its front cover, and finally each page reflected nothing but superiority. If you weren’t at the top of your game, then your name would not be found in the pages of Posh. In Chloe’s mind, that was the only sort of magazine that was worthy of her presence.

  Chloe woke up extra early to prepare for her interview. She was euphoric about taking a bubble bath until reality set in and she realized she was no longer living in the lap of luxury in Houston. There was no marble Jacuzzi tub awaiting her when she entered the bathroom, only a renovated shower. After taking a long, hot shower, she pulled her golden brown hair into a sleek ponytail. She opted to wear a tailored cream Gucci pantsuit with the pumps to match. After making sure her face was flawless, Chloe put on her emerald-cut diamond earrings, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door. When she got outside, the doorman hailed her a taxi and Chloe was off.

  “Which way, lady?” the scruffy-looking taxi driver asked, not greeting Chloe in the manner she expected given her head-to-toe designer duds. It was obvious his only concern was her paying the fare and giving him a tip.

  “Two seventy-six Lexington Avenue, please,” Chloe said as she took a long glance at herself in the mirror, confirming that everything was on point. When the taxi reached her destination, Chloe read the meter and saw that she owed him eleven dollars. Before stepping out she gave him just that.

  “Lady, where’s my tip?” he demanded.

  “Please,” she said in an exaggerated southern drawl. “Tips are earned. You should’ve given me a compliment. Whether you meant it or not I would’ve given you a few dollars just for the thought.”

  He looked at her as if she were nuts, then hesitated and said, “I apologize, you’re looking very lovely this morning—”

  “Too late,” Chloe said before slamming the door.

  “Bitch,” he screamed out the window before speeding off.

  Chloe couldn’t help but smile for shutting the taxi driver down. She knew everyone wouldn’t have the southern hospitality she was used to, but if they wanted to get anything extra out of her pocket they would have to learn quickly. While Chloe was caught up in her thoughts she heard her cell ringing. Fumbling through her purse to retrieve her phone, she accidentally dropped both.

  “Let me get that for you,” a smooth bass voice offered. Chloe was already bending down and first caught a glimpse of the guy’s pristine coconut-husk-colored Gucci loafers. Chloe loved a man wearing clean expensive shoes; she felt they spoke volumes about his grooming.

  “Thank you so much,” she said as they were both now on bended knee picking up her belongings. But once she was face-to-face with the gentleman and they locked eyes, Chloe immediately got butterflies in her stomach. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on. His unblemished milk chocolate complexion was decorated with full kissable lips and familiar profound deep brown eyes that seemed to know the answer to every question in the world.

  “My pleasure,” he said with what seemed the utmost sincerity.

  “And they say chivalry is dead. They must’ve never met you,” Chloe said flirtatiously as he helped her to her feet.

  “Christopher, we really must be going. The driver is waiting and we can’t be late,” an attractive cinnamon-complexioned woman with French-roast-hued curls said.

  Chloe assumed she was his girlfriend. Damn, she’s lucky to have him. Talk about love at first sight, she said to herself.

  “I have to go, but hang on to your purse. The next guy may not be so helpful,” he added with an endearing smile.

  Chloe watched as the couple got into the chauffer-driven Maybach. Her heart dropped but she quickly picked it back up as she got her mind straight for her interview.

  During her ride up the elevator, Chloe couldn’t believe how nervous she was. Then it dawned on her that she never had to sell herself on a job, she was always handed whatever position she wanted. This was something brand-new for her and it was electrifying and nauseating at the same time.

  When the doors opened on the twenty-fifth floor, Chloe took a deep breath and walked up to the receptionist desk. “Hi, I’m Chloe Johnson and I have a nine o’clock interview with Leslie Duncan.”

  “Yes, have a seat. Ms. Duncan will be with you shortly,” the perky receptionist informed Chloe. Chloe sat down on one of the black leather couches in the waiting area. The entire floor seemed to belong to Posh and their fashionable décor didn’t disappoint. The double glass doors had the company’s name splashed across in ultramodern Bodoni font. There was an octagonal mirror on the wall that was followed by each platinum-framed Posh cover dating back to its 2000 debut, which Mary J. Blige graced.

  “Hi, Chloe. I’m Leslie, and it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the tall, slender lady said as she extended her hand to shake Chloe’s.

  “Thank you, but the pleasure is all mine.”

  “Can I have Debbie get you anything?” Leslie offered as Debbie continued to flash all of her pearly whites.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Wonderful. Then follow me to my office.”

  Chloe followed Leslie as she walked past all the offices aligning the walls. In the center were dozens of cubicles with eager-looking employees. Leslie had a corner office with a prime view of the city. “Have a seat, Chloe,” she said, closing the door.

  “You have a beautiful view.”

  “Thank you, it took me enough years to earn it.” Both ladies just smiled. “Now back to you. I was going over your resume and I must say I was very impressed. I was also surprised that you’re interested in an assistant position given your multiple skills and experience. You’ve recruited, hired, and trained twenty-five sales associates in less than a year, delivered a first year’s gross profit fifteen percent above plan, negotiated a loyalty program with national vendors, resulting in eleven million in rebates to stores, and conceptualized a highly effective consumer advertising campaign that was featured in Teen Vogue, Essence, and People—and that was only the first two years. To say you’re overqualified would be an understatement.”

  “Although I do have a degree in journalism, all of my skills and experience have been utilized in the cosmetic business. I figured since I’m branching off in a new profession, then starting off as an assistant and learning the business inside and out will enable me to take over the company one day,” Chloe said with a huge grin. Both ladies laughed.

  “Aren’t you hilarious?” Leslie said, still smiling, but Chloe could tell the woman wondered if she was serious.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Honestly, Chloe, the job is yours. I mean, you were running a cosmetics line, and just looking how stylishly you’re dressed yourself it’s obvious to me that you can handle being the fashion editor’s assistant.”

  “Wonderful! This is great news.” Chloe was relieved the interview was over already.

  “But I must ask you something,” Leslie said, leaning forward in her chair.

  Uh-oh, not out the woods yet. “Of course, what is it?”

  “I couldn’t help but notice that the company you worked for was Splendor Cosmetics. It’s no secret that Leon Johnson owns that company. Your last name is Johnson—do you get where I’m going with this?” Leslie said, still grinning and being extra animated with her hands.

  “As a matter of fact I do. Yes, Leon Johnson is my father.” Leslie’s mouth plunged as Chloe confirmed her suspicions.

  “I knew it! I knew it,” she repeated. “We run your family’s ads in our magazine,” she said as if revealing something Chloe wasn’t well aware of. “Tell the
truth, did you do something terribly naughty to get thrown out of your father’s company?”

  “Excuse me?” Chloe questioned with bewilderment written on her face.

  “You can tell me. It would be our little secret,” Leslie whispered as if Chloe was about to reveal a tawdry tale. “I mean, why else would you give up a great job with I’m sure a ton of perks, to come here and be somebody’s slave? My goodness, please share, what did you do?”

  Chloe paused for a moment and sized up Leslie Duncan. At that moment she came to the conclusion that if this woman could be the editor in chief of Posh magazine, then her dreams of someday running it would be easier than she thought. “Sorry, Leslie, I don’t have any dirty little secrets to tell you. I just came to a point in my life where I wanted to put my journalism degree to good use. I know that might sound totally bland to someone like you, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

  “Oh, Chloe, I understand. That’s a great story and you should stick to it. But remember if you ever decide you want someone to confide in, I’m always available, except of course when I’m meeting with very important clients, which is pretty much all the time. Ha, ha, ha. I tickle myself. But seriously, I’m going to get you over to Human Resources and if you’re ready we can get you started working today.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me, let’s do this.” Chloe grabbed her purse and the ladies headed out.

  That evening Chloe didn’t get home until eight o’clock. She was one of the last people to leave the office and that’s exactly how she liked it. But she couldn’t front; she was beyond exhausted. Her first thought was to run a bubble bath in her Jacuzzi, but once again had the pained remembrance that she wasn’t in Houston anymore and soaking in her tiny tub would have to do. Chloe had begun undressing when her home phone began ringing. She knew it could only be a handful of people since very few had the number to her new apartment. “Hello.”

  “Hi, honey, how did your interview go?”

  “Daddy! It’s so good to hear your voice.”

  “I called you this morning on your cell, but you didn’t pick up.”

  “Yeah, I accidentally dropped my phone on my way in the building.” Recalling that episode made Chloe start thinking about the handsome man she’d met briefly. “I meant to call you back, but I got so caught up at work.”

  “Work? That means you got the job?”

  “Yep, I sure did.”

  “Congratulations, my princess, I knew you would.”

  “I’m only an assistant, Daddy.”

  “Maybe on paper, but you’ll be running that place before you know it. So, how do you like the person you’re working for?”

  “Her name is Kari Armstrong. She’s the fashion editor. She seems pretty cool. Although I spent the majority of the day doing things like faxing and making copies. Can you imagine, who would ever have thought? It’s all very humbling in a way, but since I have my eye on a much bigger prize I’m willing to suck it up.”

  “That’s my girl. They’ll never see you coming, and by the time they do it’ll be too late.”

  “Exactly.” Chloe could always count on her father to know precisely what she was thinking. “So, how’s everything going in your world, any new projects brewing?”

  “As a matter of fact there are.”

  “Really, like what?”

  “I’m considering branching off into the music business.”

  “Daddy, I think we have a bad connection. Did you say the music business?”

  Mr. Johnson let out a slight chuckle before answering. “Yes, I did. I’m going over the figures now, and if what my associates tell me is true, then this will be one investment I won’t pass up.”

  “Wow, my father the music mogul. I like the sound of that.”

  “Business mogul will suffice as I have no plans to get heavily involved with the day-to-day operations. Hell, I may break the company up and sell it off piece by piece. You know I’m only emotionally involved in our family cosmetics company. Everything else is expendable.”

  “You always have your eye on the dollar. I guess that’s why you’re Leon Johnson and the rest of us are picking up your crumbs.”

  “Don’t worry, my dear daughter, you won’t be picking up my crumbs, because my legacy runs through your blood. You’ve had a long day so I won’t keep you. Just in case I didn’t tell you, I’m very proud of you, Chloe.”

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too, princess. Good night.”

  For the next few weeks Chloe worked day and night learning the ropes at Posh magazine. She studied her boss Kari’s every move, taking in her strong points and weaknesses. On the outside Kari appeared to have the game all sewn up, but upon closer inspection that wasn’t the case. She would purposely have Chloe and employees beneath her go to great lengths to accommodate her only to change her mind after they’d done so. Or she’d rarely give enough information or time to comply with her demands, yet routinely berate those who failed. And she felt no compunction about ordering Chloe to do things such as getting coffee or lunch anew if they had gotten too cold for her in the meantime. Chloe took these as signs of insecurity. She reasoned that Kari wanted everyone around her to seem incompetent so she would appear irreplaceable.

  “Chloe, run this down to inventory. If they don’t have it in, then I need them to stock each of these items. We have a photo shoot tomorrow and the last time I checked, the sizes they have are all wrong.”

  “No problem, but let me finish up this article Leslie asked me to edit for her and then I’ll get right on it.”

  “Fine, but hurry up. And after you take care of that, please stop by the deli and get my lunch. You know the drill. I’ll reimburse you when you get back.” Kari shooed with her hand, dismissing Chloe.

  “I swear she can be such a bitch sometimes,” Chloe complained under her breath. After handling her business with inventory, Chloe made her way to the deli. Luckily she got there before the lunchtime traffic had the line going out the door. After ordering Kari’s food, Chloe headed back to work. Right when she was entering the building, two women who were exiting without paying attention flung the door open, hitting Chloe.

  The force of the door combined with the strong wind jolted her arms and sent the bag of food Chloe was carrying flying in the air. She turned just in time to witness a man catching the bag as if he played the position as a receiver on a professional football team.

  “You again. I’m going to start charging you for my services,” the familiar-looking gentleman said, handing Chloe the bag. She looked inside, making sure Kari’s food was still intact, and to her relief it was.

  “You’re the same guy who helped me pick up my purse,” she said as she straightened out her white silk belted blazer with matching patch shorts and hoped her makeup was as impeccable as it was when she had applied it that morning.

  “That would be me. I’m starting to think you’re accident-prone,” he said jokingly.

  “This was not my fault. Those women flew out the building, slamming the door into me as if I was invisible. I tell you, people in New York can certainly be rude,” she said with a mock pout.

  “I take it you’re not from here?”

  “No, I’m a southern belle. I’m a Houston, Texas, girl,” Chloe admitted proudly.

  “I thought I detected a tiny southern drawl, but you can only hear it on certain words when you get a little excited.”

  “Oh, you figured all that out in the two brief meetings we had?” Chloe said teasingly as she stepped forward and gently adjusted his tie.

  “Let’s just say I pay meticulous attention to every detail, especially when the person piques my interest.”

  Chloe could feel her eyes dancing at the idea of this mysterious, handsome man being interested in her. “So you find me interesting?”

  “Very.”

  “How do you think your girlfriend would feel about that?” Chloe asked coyly.

  “If I had one I would ask, but since
I don’t, there’s no need.”

  “So, who was the attractive woman you were rushing off with when I met you the first time?”

  “You must be talking about Dawn. She’s my assistant.”

  Chloe hoped it wasn’t obvious how thrilled she was to hear that Dawn wasn’t his girlfriend and that he was single. “Well, I hope you treat your assistant better than my boss treats me.”

  “I take it that you work in here.” He waved his neatly manicured hand at the building. “Who do you work for?”

  “Posh magazine.”

  “Nice.”

  “And you?”

  “I own Money Grip Records.”

  Chloe’s eyebrows rose and she inwardly whistled her admiration. “Impressive. Your records dominate the charts.”

  It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. “You didn’t strike me as the hip-hop music type.”

  “Why? Do I seem too uptight?”

  “Not at all. Just very classy and sweet. But listen, we’ve been talking and I still didn’t get your name.”

  “Chloe. Chloe Johnson.”

  “Nice to meet you, Chloe, my name is Christopher McNeil. Now that we’ve been formally introduced, will you accept an invitation to have dinner with me?”

  “I would love to.”

  “Then dinner it is,” he said, gently placing his right hand on her waist.

  Chloe felt a familiar surge sprint through her body. “I know this might sound crazy, but a few weeks ago were you at a club and a horrific fight erupted?”

  “Over in the Meatpacking District.” Christopher nodded. “You’re the stunning woman that slipped through my fingers. But then I guess you didn’t.”

  Chloe swallowed hard. “The first time I ran into you again I knew you looked familiar, but I couldn’t pinpoint from where. Wow, talk about meant to be,” she said under her breath.