Queen of His Heart

by Adrianne Byrd

  “Sounds like a poker show,” Nitara quipped.

  Dee Dee shrugged. “I kind of like it.”

  “That makes it two against one.” Keenan cocked a smile at his partner.

  “Whatever.” Nitara tossed up her hands. “Now tell me about our ‘star.’” She noticed how Keenan’s face lit up.

  “I can’t wait for you to meet her,” he practically gushed. “The camera is going to love her. She’s perfect!”

  “Perfect?” Nitara found his choice of words interesting.

  “Yeah,” he continued, pacing the office. “She’s beautiful, funny and charming. There’re going to be fan clubs popping up everywhere.”

  “Sounds to me like she already has her first fan.” Nitara braided her fingers. “Where exactly did you meet Ms. Perfect?”

  “Technically I met her this morning,” Keenan confessed. “But Keisha turned me on to her YouTube page.”

  This time Nitara sprang out of her chair. “Come again?”

  “I know. I know. But let me explain. I was talking to Keisha last night and somehow we ended up talking about her trials and tribulations in trying to navigate the L.A. dating scene—”

  “Hell, I have a few horror stories myself,” Dee Dee chirped.

  Keenan chuckled. “Anyway, at some point she started telling me about Jalila’s YouTube channel that she subscribes to.”

  “I take it that Jalila is this star?”

  “Right.” He stopped pacing and leaned back against his desk. “So anyway, she—Keisha—was telling me how much she related to Jalila’s vlogs. Of course, you know Keisha, she practically guilt-tripped me into checking out the channel myself. So I did. And I was hooked. She was engaging, charming and—”

  “Beautiful,” Nitara filled in. “Yeah. I get the picture.”

  “I was about to say funny. Oh, and let’s not forget her dog, Cujo.”

  “She named her dog after a rabid, terrorizing Saint Bernard?”

  “We both love horror movies.” He gave Nitara the thumbs-up.

  But you’re not going to be one of the bachelors, Nitara wanted to say. “So you skipped out of your conference call with ABC this morning to go meet this ‘star’?”

  “ABC!” Keenan slapped his palm against his forehead. “I forgot.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll call them.” He walked around his desk. “In fact, I’m going to work a treatment for the show.”

  Nitara watched her business partner, amazed at the change she saw in him. There was something more to this than met the eye.

  “What do you mean that you’re going to find a man on television?” James Goodwyn asked, staring at his daughter.

  “Please say that you’re not going on that show Blind Date,” Jalila’s mother chimed in. “I know Sister Mabel watches that every week. She’s convinced everybody that goes on that show is going straight to hell.”

  “No, Momma. I’m not going on Blind Date.” Jalila laughed and took a bite of her mother’s signature meatloaf. Dinner at her parents’ was a Monday-night tradition. It was the only time Jalila could carve out so they could play catch-up with what was going on in their lives. Her parents weren’t pleased with this latest bit of news.

  “What exactly are you going to be doing on TV?” her father asked. “Do you keep your clothes on?”

  “What?” Jalila almost choked. “Of course I’m keeping my clothes on.” Well, she hadn’t exactly run that particular question by Mr. Armstrong. Actually, she had asked him hardly any questions.

  “Well, as long as you keep your clothes on,” her father said. “Hey, pass me the cornbread.”

  Jalila reached over and handed him the basket of cornbread muffins.

  “Wait a minute. Wait a minute,” her mom said. “I have a few more questions. Who all is going to be watching this?”

  Jalila shrugged. “I guess anyone who wants to tune in.”

  “What channel is it going to be on?”

  “I don’t know, Mom.” She laughed. “Far as I know, it’s all in its beginning stages.” That answer only made her mother’s face go sour even more.

  “I don’t know if I like this dating-on-TV stuff. How come you can’t find dates the old-fashion way—church or some social dance somewhere?”

  “Social dances are clubs and there’s nothing but losers there. I’ve tried churches and all the good men are already married and the ones that aren’t are looking for a second mother.”

  “I still don’t like it.”

  Jalila took her mother’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, Mom. Everything is going to be fine. In fact, I think it might even be fun. Heck, I’ve tried everything else at this point.”

  “As beautiful as you are? I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to get a date.”

  “I can get dates,” Jalila corrected. “I just can’t seem to get them with any quality men. Please don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything that’s going to embarrass the family.”

  “It may be out of your hands. I’ve heard stories of how television producers like to cut and paste things to make them look more scandalous than they really are.”

  “Mr. Armstrong wouldn’t do that.”

  “How do you know?” she challenged.

  She didn’t know. “He just didn’t strike me as that kind of man.”

  “No offense, baby girl,” her father said, catching her eye. “But if he’s part of that crazy Hollywood crowd, I wouldn’t trust him any further than you can throw him.”

  That was food for thought.

  “Plus,” her mother continued. “Has anyone ever gone on to get married on one of those shows? Or is it just that—a show?”

  “I believe there was one.”

  “One?” Her mother laughed. “One out of how many? C’mon, Jalila. If you like those odds then you might as well keep doing what you been doing.”

  Jalila’s spirits started to plummet.

  Her father came to the rescue. “Now, Bettye. If this is something that Jalila wants to do, then I think we should support her.”

  Bettye Goodwyn didn’t respond.

  This whole scene had Jalila feeling like a ten-year-old trying to get her parents’ permission to go on a school field trip.

  By the time Jalila returned home from her parents’, she had all but convinced herself to back out of the television show. It wasn’t like she had signed a contract or anything. How hard would it be to find another woman to take her place?

  Still, it would have been fun.

  Cujo barked excitedly as she entered the door.

  “Hey, boy,” she cooed, patting his broad side. “Have you been a good boy?”

  Woof! Woof! He ran around in a tight circle.

  “C’mon. Let me get you something to eat.” As she marched toward the kitchen, her mind wandered to how she was going to tell Mr. Armstrong that she needed to back out of the show.

  She scooped dog food into Cujo’s bowl and then washed her hands at the sink. The phone rang, and Jalila picked up the cordless without looking at the caller ID. “Hello.”

  “Ms. Goodwyn?”

  She stiffened at the sound of the velvety smooth voice. She knew exactly who was on the other line. “Oh, hello, Mr. Armstrong.”

  “Please. My friends call me Keenan.”

  “All right, Keenan. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I hope I didn’t call you at a bad time.”

  “No. No. I’m just getting in from my parents’.” She folded her arms and leaned back against the sink. How was she going to do this? Just tell him.

  “Actually, I was just calling you to tell you that I ran everything by my business partner and she’s on board.”

  Jalila didn’t know exactly what that meant.

  “First thing tomorrow I’m going to make some calls. We’re going to pitch the idea to a couple of studios next week, but I just wanted to tell you that I have a positive vibe about this whole thing. I’m sure that w
e can get picked up by ABC.”

  Jalila tried to digest all the information he was unloading. ABC? The ABC?

  “Of course, we’ll be racing to make the fall schedule. Nitara—that’s my business partner—she’s going to post an open casting call in all the trade papers tomorrow. Plus, she’ll reach out to a few casting directors.”

  “Casting call.” Jalila frowned. “Are you just lining up actors?”

  Keenan laughed. “No. I wouldn’t curse you like that.”

  She sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

  “Been down that road?”

  “I got a T-shirt around here somewhere.”

  His laughter deepened and sent a wave of delicious tingles throughout her body.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked suddenly.

  She weighed whether she should lie. “A little bit.”

  “Good. I would’ve been worried about you if you weren’t. But don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you.”

  Something about the way he said those words warmed Jalila’s heart and strung a wide smile across her lips.

  “So you can trust me. I’m not going to let any crazies or stalkers anywhere near you.”

  If he’s part of that crazy Hollywood crowd, I wouldn’t trust him any further than you can throw him.

  Jalila tried to push her father’s words to the back of her head. “How do you know what kind of men to screen for? Surely you haven’t figured out my type just by scanning my YouTube videos.”

  “You could always tell me your type.”

  Was it just her imagination or had his voice dipped lower? It was incredibly sexy and was turning her knees into Jell-O. “Well.” She cleared her throat. “Ideally?”

  Keenan chuckled. “Yes. Pretend you have a blank canvas. What kind of man can win your heart, Jalila?”

  Jalila mulled over the question as she left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

  “Do you even know what you want?” he teased.

  She smiled. “I’ve always dreamed that my future husband would be tall, dark and handsome.” You sort of fit the bill.

  His laughter continued to rumble through the line. “All women say that. What about personality?”

  “Of course, he would have to be kind, funny, generous and thoughtful.”

  Woof!

  “Oh, and he would have to be a dog lover.”

  “All right. Sounds simple enough,” Keenan said, glancing over at the table to see Chips inching toward his plate holding the discarded bones. “I see you, Chips.”

  Chips glanced around as if to say, “Who me?”

  “Oh. I didn’t know that you had company. I’m just chatting away.”

  “No. No one is here. Chips is my always-starving dog.” He laughed and handed over another bone—nearly taking off one of Keenan’s fingers.

  “Aww. What kind of dog do you have?”

  He smiled. “Great Dane.”

  Jalila’s excitement exploded. “Get out of here! And you named him Chips? You know there was another dog in a great horror movie named Chips?”

  Keenan bobbed his head. “Yeah. I named him after the dog in Dawn of the Damned.”

  “So you love horror movies, too?”

  “When I was younger it was always a great excuse to curl up with a date.”

  Jalila rolled her eyes. “I should have known.” ’Course, she suspected that women didn’t need much of an excuse to cuddle with him. She suspected that broad chest of his was actually one hell of a security blanket. And here she was in her bedroom, pulling off her clothes to get ready for bed! “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.” Keenan rinsed off his plate and set it in the dishwasher.

  “Why me? I mean, there are millions of women with my story and plenty of them are on YouTube, a lot of them a lot more popular than I am. I don’t think I even have a thousand subscribers.”

  Keenan entered his bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes. “You have what we call in the business a certain je ne sais quoi. The camera loves you and I think what you have to say is relevant to the state of what women—heck, men and women—go through trying to find that special someone.”

  Even you? Now that she thought about it, what was his story? She had noticed at the spa that he didn’t have a ring on his finger, but that didn’t mean anything in this town. Now they had been talking for nearly an hour and it was edging close to midnight. Should she ask?

  “I haven’t been out in the dating scene too long myself,” he admitted, during the silence. “I’ve been divorced for five years.”

  Jalila relaxed at being spared from asking the question herself. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He sighed and leaned back against the row of pillows along the headboard. “Truth be told, we simply outgrew each other. We were high-school sweethearts and probably should have broken up after the prom like everyone else.”

  After thinking about her own romantic missteps, Jalila had to agree with him. “So are you from L.A.?”

  “Born and bred. My father used to own the number two GM dealership in the whole state of California a few years back. Now he and Mom are spending their retirement traveling the states in a fancy-schmancy RV, which means they call me and my sister often. Each week they alternate who wants to kill whom.” He chuckled. “It’s usually my mom wanting to throttle my father for either getting lost or for refusing to ask for directions. But they’re crazy about each. I wish I knew their secret.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes I wonder if my parents’ obscene lovey-doviness spoiled me,” Jalila said.

  “I doubt that.” Keenan yawned. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting what our parents have. Honestly, I’m a little jealous of them sometimes. I doubt it will ever be me. I may be a bit jaded now.”

  Jalila yawned as she snuggled under her comforter. “Maybe you should search for your soul mate on TV?”

  Keenan climbed into bed. “Nah. I belong behind the camera, not in front of it.”

  “Who knows, maybe one day you’ll change your mind.”

  “Yeah. Who knows?” He heard her yawning again and fought his reluctance to hang up. “I’d better let you get some sleep.”

  “I’m not tired.” Her words probably would have been more convincing if she hadn’t yawned at the same time. “Okay. Maybe I’m a little tired.”

  Keenan’s now-familiar laugh rumbled through the line. “G’night, Jalila.”

  “Night.” She disconnected the call and smiled against her pillow. It was no surprise that she dreamed about a certain handsome Hollywood producer whose only interest in her was to help her find another man.

  Just her luck.

  Chapter 7

  For the next two weeks Keenan was a man on a mission. He shopped the treatment for his reality show, Queen of Hearts, to every studio in town. So far he had received two No’s and three Maybe’s. Up until now, Nitara, Dee Dee and Jalila’s best friend Martina had handled the interviewing and eliminations. Thanks to Excedrin and Pepto-Bismol, they’d whittled the twenty thousand applicants down to a hundred. It hadn’t come without cost. Every day, Nitara complained that she was close to pulling her hair out, and that she’d forgotten just how many self-absorbed losers lived in L.A.

  When his meeting with possible financers wrapped early, Keenan decided that he would help in cutting down the one hundred remaining contestants to twenty-five.

  “Wow. How generous of you,” Nitara mumbled, rolling her eyes. In her mind most of the hard work was already done. “I thought that you wanted to leave the tedious work to us.”

  “I never used the word tedious. I believe I said the most important work, but only because of your superior—”

  “You’re making me nauseous.”

  Keenan leveled his dazzling smile on Nitara and her irritation melted away almost instantly.

  “At least I come bearing your favorite treat—cupcakes,” he said, winking.

  Dee Dee and Martina popped up from their chairs and r
aced toward the tray of desserts.

  “Oh, thank God. I’m sooo starving.” Martina moaned and in one bite reduced the cupcake by half.

  “My, what a big appetite you have,” Keenan joked while staring at the woman’s fire-engine-red hair.

  Martina leveled him a look that almost devoured him. “You have no idea.” Slowly, she licked the icing off the rest of her cupcake, leaving no doubt to what she was referring to.

  Keenan cleared his throat and returned his attention to Nitara and Dee Dee, who were busy choking back their own laughter.

  The office door opened and a handsome, well-dressed gentleman strolled through the door.

  “Hello.” Dee Dee moved toward him. “Are you here for the casting call?”

  “Yes. I’m Dr. Englehart.” He jutted out his hand with a nervous smile.

  Keenan looked him over, thinking he was in pretty good shape, but he took an instant dislike to the guy. Maybe it was the guy’s shifty eyes, Keenan thought, or maybe it was because if the lights were turned off, he was sure the man’s teeth would glow in the dark.

  “Yes. Yes,” Nitara said, stepping forward. “Just go down the hall there and then take the first door on your right.”

  “Thank you,” Dr. Englehart said, his voice deepening perhaps for Keenan’s benefit.

  Once the doctor strolled away, Keenan turned his disapproving frown toward the three women who’d checked out the guy’s butt and were busy fanning themselves.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Nitara and Martina challenged.

  “He’s a little…short, don’t you think?”

  Nitara rolled her eyes and said flippantly, “Everyone’s short next to you.”

  Keenan frowned and glanced over at Dee Dee. “What do you think?”

  Dee Dee finally jerked her head away from the hallway. “Huh? What?” Her gaze swung between her two bosses. “What did I miss?”

  “See?” Nitara thrust up her chin. “He’s good eye candy.”

  Keenan’s incredulity quadrupled. “Is that all we’re screening for—eye candy?”

  Nitara’s hands flew to her hips. “What are you talking about? The man is a doctor and he makes great money.”

  That wasn’t good enough. “Oh, yeah, right. A doctor. What kind of doctor?”