by Ronn Elmore
“Great job.” Lafayette turned and embraced Dwayne before greeting some of the men who’d turned out.
Dwayne was deluged by a group sitting in the front but kept an eye out for Sean, now making his way toward him—also stopped by men every few steps.
“Hey, man, this is great,” Sean said, finally approaching Dwayne.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Well, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know if I could make it, but I sure am glad I did.”
From behind the observation window, Nina had gathered up her things and was preparing to leave. She had seen what she had come to see. Dwayne had done just fine, and Man-to-Man was on its way. She’d come well after the session had started and left without Dwayne ever knowing she had been there.
Chapter Eighteen
The Jaguar purred as Dwayne slowed to a crawl, eased next to the curb, then turned off the ignition. He turned and smiled at his mother.
“Are you ready, son?”
“Yeah. Thanks for being my date, Mom.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything.” She patted him on the shoulder. “My son the TV star.”
“I’m the one who’s proud, Mom.”
“What have I done?”
“It’s because of you that I am who I am. You provided the foundation… you taught me how to know God. How to pray.”
“Thank you, son.”
“I just wish Lafayette could be happy for me too.”
“He’s not happy about the show?”
“He hasn’t said he was unhappy, but you know Lafayette. When he’s behind something, you know it.”
“Lafayette is just concerned that you’re overextending,” Bernice theorized. “He worries about you. We all do.”
Dwayne looked up ahead through the windshield. The street where Beverlyn had moved, in exclusive Hancock Park, seemed deserted. Few cars were visible; most were probably parked behind the gates of the vintage mansions lining the streets.
“I’m fine, and I’m not just saying that. And that is why so many great things are happening. Like this TV show.” He looked down at his watch. “We’d better get inside. I’m sure Beverlyn is waiting.”
The April evening’s breeze blew cool, and Bernice adjusted her black azalea floral silk wrap before they moved forward. At the six-foot-high wrought-iron gate, Dwayne pressed the lit but unmarked button over the intercom to the home, which sat back a dramatic distance from the curb. There was no voice response, only a nearly imperceptible buzz signalling that the gate’s lock was released and they could now enter. He took his mother’s hand and they slowly strolled along the winding, sloped driveway, finally stopping in front of the massive gated Tudor complex, an 8,500-square-foot main house on beautifully landscaped grounds, a three-bedroom guesthouse, and maid’s quarters. They stepped between the concrete pillars, to huge double doors. Dwayne’s hand barely touched the doorbell before a lanky, bald-headed gentleman dressed in a black tuxedo opened the doors, then stepped aside, allowing Dwayne and Bernice to enter into the large foyer.
The tuxedoed man bowed slightly. His chestnut-colored scalp glistened in the glow of the crystal chandelier that hung above. “Come in, Dr. Grandison.”
Dwayne raised his eyebrows.
“My name is Harris. May I take your wrap, Ms. Grandison?”
It was Bernice’s turn to raise her eyebrows as she slipped the matching cashmere silk wrap from her shoulders. Dwayne’s eyes followed his mother’s as she scanned the massive entryway. Her eyes glanced up the long staircase, centered in front of them, then moved to the portraits that lined the walls. From the soft “umph” that seemed to involuntarily escape from his mother’s throat, Dwayne could tell that she was as impressed as he was. Not that either of them wasn’t accustomed to the lifestyle, but Beverlyn’s home was truly impressive—a page right out of Architectural Digest.
“Ms. Boudreaux asked me to let her know when you arrived. If you will wait right here, I will get her.”
Before he could answer, a voice came from above. “Dwayne, you’re here.”
Beverlyn stood at the top of the landing in a periwinkle jeweled and beaded Empire gown—then proceeded toward them. With the grace of a Hollywood movie star, her steps perfectly choreographed, she held the handrail with the tips of her fingers.
Dwayne couldn’t take his eyes off her as she moved toward him. At the very moment their eyes met, she knew she’d scored some bonus points in the fifteen-hundred-dollar b. Michael original.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Beverlyn took Dwayne’s hand. Immediately, she turned to Bernice with a wide smile. “You must be Mrs. Grandison. I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you.”
Bernice held her hand out. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Boudreaux.”
“Please call me Beverlyn. I have a feeling we are going to be great friends.” She locked her arm through Bernice’s. “Let’s go into the parlor. Our guests are waiting.” She led them across the foyer into the living room.
Dwayne’s professional training taught him the importance of keeping his face and body neutral, no emotion discernible. But he found it difficult to conceal his surprise when he entered the expansive space and elegant “great room.” In the sitting areas throughout the room, people chatted while sipping chardonnay and cider and snacking on skewered grilled shrimp. At the far end of the room, Sean sat at the ivory grand piano, playfully fiddling with the keys. All eyes turned as they entered the room.
“Everyone, our guest of honor is here,” Beverlyn announced, dramatically spreading her arms wide as if she were about to sing.
The group applauded enthusiastically. Dwayne had been to many celebrity events, but Beverlyn’s small gathering was exceptional. Andrew Campbell, a top aide to the mayor, and Rosalyn Saunders, a Los Angeles councilwoman, were the first to approach him and Bernice. “Dr. Grandison”—Councilwoman Saunders offered her hand—“it is a pleasure to meet you.”
Within a moment, Dwayne and Bernice were surrounded, each guest wanting to offer his or her own congratulations. After a few moments and the signal from Kim, Beverlyn clapped her hands. “Now that Dr. Grandison is here, it’s time for the viewing.” There were mutters of agreement. “Don’t worry about your drinks. There are refreshments in the media room.” The group parted like the Red Sea, allowing Beverlyn, followed by Dwayne and Bernice, to lead the way. As they passed the piano, Sean stood and grabbed his friend’s hand.
“Breathe deeply. You deserve this,” Sean said.
“Thanks, man, for all your support.”
“You were there for me when I needed it. Isn’t that what friendship is about?”
“Thanks again, man.”
Dwayne couldn’t thank Sean enough for agreeing to be the show’s first celebrity guest. Even though Sean had turned toward what he referred to as God’s music, he’d never lost his mainstream appeal, so his appearance on their pilot episode had been a major coup for Higher Ground.
“I feel like a fish out of water.”
Sean chuckled. “Relax, man. You’re doing just fine. How are you and Nina, or should I say Beverlyn?”
“Why?”
“Because she’s got it bad for you.”
Dwayne shook his head. “A great lady, but I don’t know.”
“You’d be surprised. There’s a lot more to Beverlyn than meets the eye. Deep down,” Sean reflected, “she’s just a little girl looking for acceptance… to belong. And apart from all this and her ministry, I’m not so sure she is all too sure of just who she is. So don’t buy into all this.”
Beverlyn’s media room was like a small movie theater, with twenty-five cushioned chairs facing a large screen. She motioned for Dwayne and Bernice to take seats in the front row as the rest of the gathering sat throughout the room. A few minutes later, Beverlyn stood on a slightly raised platform, raising her hands to silence the gathering.
“I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out this evening. You alr
eady know about the Jubilee Network, but what you may not know is that the show we are viewing tonight is the flagship program for the network.”
Bernice squeezed Dwayne’s hand, and it wasn’t until that moment that he realized how nervous he was.
“I’m not going to say much because this show speaks for itself. So now I am proud to present the first show of Higher Ground.” And with a slight twist of her hand, Beverlyn motioned to the projection room, and the lights slowly dimmed. She took her seat, and the screen was instantly covered with the opening title.
Dwayne shifted in his seat as the crowd took in the opening duet with Beverlyn and Sean. This was one of his favorite parts—and it was even better because he had defeated L.W., who wanted more traditional gospel music. The picture faded, and slowly his image filled the screen.
“Good afternoon. My name is Dr. Dwayne Grandison. Welcome to Higher Ground.”
Dwayne couldn’t tell if the cheers came from the audience in the studio or from those who were with him now, but his eyes stayed glued to the 120-inch screen. As the show proceeded, he analyzed every motion, every gesture. He was pleased that he didn’t look as if he were wearing makeup. That had been a major concern, especially under the heat of the studio lights. He squirmed a bit as he watched his hands move with his words, a bit too much, he thought.
The self-critiques continued, and the group became engrossed in the show. When—forty-three minutes later—the screen faded to black, there was silence. From the corner of his eye, Dwayne watched his mother wipe a tear from her cheek. Then Sean stood, turned to Dwayne, and began to clap. In the darkness of the room, the others followed and, similar to what had happened in the studio, Dwayne received a standing ovation.
The lights came on and Dwayne stood.
“I am so proud of you,” Bernice said as she put her arms around his neck, her eyes still tearing. He was surprised at the emotion, his own as well, but as he watched, he saw what the others saw: a moving drama played out before their eyes.
Beverlyn stood again in the spot where she’d started. “The show made its point. We want to take people to a better place—a Higher Ground. For your information, we’ve taped another show, but this one will air tomorrow. Please keep us in your prayers.” Beverlyn paused and dabbed her eyes with her fingertips. “Many of you have invested time and money in the Jubilee Network because you believe in what we’re doing, and from the bottom of my heart, I’d like to thank you. Without you, we couldn’t have done it. Now,” she continued, directing the crowd to where Kim was standing, “let’s go into the living room.”
Dwayne stood, and as the others filed out, he stared at Beverlyn. When they were alone, he pulled her into his arms, hugging her and seeing her with brand-new eyes.
Chapter Nineteen
Dwayne looked up when he heard someone knocking at his door. He glanced at his watch, surprised. Monique usually announced his clients, and today Jade was early. He frowned, wondering why Monique didn’t keep Jade in the waiting room for the next ten minutes. Before he could say, “Come in,” Beverlyn entered. She held the door open wide and looked stunning in a perfectly fitted ivory shirt jacket and flared pants set that perfectly complemented her size 6, five-eight frame.
Dwayne’s frown deepened. Beverlyn had never been to his office, and since he was supposed to see her in three hours at their production meeting, he assumed something was wrong. But the broad smile on her face as she walked toward him and laid a computer printout on the desk told another story.
Dwayne stared at the paper filled with numbers, then shrugged his shoulders. “What’s this?”
Beverlyn sat on the edge of the desk and twisted around to face him. “Dwayne, these are the overnight ratings. It’s unbelievable. These are the kind of numbers that a fourth or fifth network like Fox or UPN would love to see. We got over a three share.”
Beverlyn leaned back and laughed. “You weren’t kidding when you said you knew nothing about television. Dr. Grandison, you are a hit!”
“But it’s just the first show …”
“And that’s what makes it so great. It will get better from here. Yesterday we only had a little advertising. But with word of mouth… You might not grasp it yet, Dwayne, but this is huge. I’m so happy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re a success, Dwayne.”
“Excuse me!”
Dwayne pulled away from Beverlyn and saw Monique and Jade standing in the open doorway, both with the same question in their eyes: What is going on?
“Beverlyn was just giving me some news.”
“Oh, that’s what it’s called.” Jade snickered.
“Dwayne, call me as soon as you’re free here.” Beverlyn laughed throatily, swooping past Monique and Jade, whose eyes followed her until she was out of sight. Then, as if they were performing in a synchronized dance, they turned back to Dwayne, with their arms folded.
“Doc, you’ve been holding out on me.” Jade strolled into the office, taking a seat. “How can I get some of what you’ve been giving that client?”
Dwayne almost laughed. The eighteen-year-old rap star didn’t even recognize Beverlyn Boudreaux.
“Jade, let’s get started.”
The young girl smoothed her skintight leopard leggings. “No problem, but for my sessions, I want the door closed.”
Dwayne chuckled, but as he settled into the session with Jade, he couldn’t dismiss Beverlyn’s words.
“You’re a success, Dwayne.”
Chapter Twenty
By the end of the first month, not only was the Jubilee Network increasing in popularity, but its flagship program, Higher Ground, after just four shows, had ratings that rivaled those network programs in the same 8:00 P.M. time slot. Armed with the latest viewer survey and demographic data, Beverlyn announced that it was time to capitalize.
“Our viewers can’t get enough of Dr. Grandison.” Beverlyn leaned over Dwayne’s desk. After the first show, Dwayne had agreed to use the office at the Beverlyn Boudreaux headquarters. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that the office was a necessity with the number of meetings and all the research that had to be done.
“So many people are calling in that we’ve had to put in additional lines, and I can think of at least two ways to make even more money from this. One way is books. The sound way is perhaps more important: We can make your message more widespread through audio- and videotapes. We should start with tapes because we can rush to market with those. We just need to come up with subjects.
“Themes you’ve found to be common issues,” she continued. “We need tapes people will rush to buy. For that, I’ll put you together with Kim. She’s great at that. Besides, she’d be great at beefing up your publicity. This could mean big dollars, and by the time we’re finished, Dwayne, your face will be plastered from billboards in L.A. to subway stations in New York.”
“Yeah, right.” He chuckled.
“Laugh now, but you’ll see.”
He remembered when Yvette had brought grandiose plans to him. He would laugh, but she would just look at him saying the exact words that Beverlyn had just uttered. It continued to be uncanny how similar the two were, not only in words but also in the abundant energy they directed toward what each saw as his ultimate success. And she was almost irresistible standing before him in a honey- colored sleeveless georgette silk blouse with contrast flounce collar and a floor-length slim skirt.
One look said to any red-blooded man that there was more to this Bible-totin’ woman than the business and ministry that had become her lifeblood. Since her days at the orphanage, her life had been about survival and getting ahead. So much so that she didn’t know how to shut down. It was a trait he didn’t find particularly attractive in women, though with Beverlyn, he’d understood its core and found himself drawn by the vulnerability that so often had arisen from it.
Still, he found refuge from the grind of producing a daily TV show in other projects: his practice, his weekly tennis matches with Sean, and w
orking with Nina. Even though the sexual tension of the “near kiss” hung between them, Dwayne looked forward to their meetings. When he and Nina met, it wasn’t about bigger, better, and faster, but about family, God, and helping others. When he had agreed to meet Nina today, he hadn’t known that he would have to endure four client meetings and a three-hour audiotape session before he could do so. Now, as he eased his car around the corner onto King Boulevard, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the day. But he forgot his fatigue when he pulled in front of the church to find Nina standing on the steps. As he turned off the ignition, she ran toward his car.
“Dwayne, we have to change our plans.”
He hoped Nina missed the relieved sigh that escaped his lips.
“The offices were painted last night,” she continued. “But the fumes are still bad. Would you mind if we worked at my house?”
There was no need for an interpretation of Dwayne’s hesitation. The reason had been more than obvious.
“We can go somewhere else if you prefer.”
“No, your apartment is fine. But what about Omari?”
“He’s hanging out with his favorite aunt tonight. I thought we might be working late.” Then, giving Dwayne another look, Nina said, “You’re tired. Maybe we should postpone this.”
It was what he’d been thinking. The past weeks had been exhaustive, but the exhilaration of accomplishment kept him going.
“I’m fine. I’ll just follow you to your place.” He waited until Nina jogged to her car, then followed the burgundy Camry across La Brea to La Cienega, heading toward West L.A.
Dwayne glanced at the dashboard clock and calculated the time in his head. If he stayed no more than two hours, he’d be home before ten. He’d still have time to relax, watch a little television, and get seven hours of sleep—just one hour less than what he recommended to his clients, but more sleep than he’d had in over a month. The traffic was post-rush-hour light, and within twenty minutes, Dwayne was following Nina up the red brick stairs to her second-level apartment. Once they were inside, Nina’s face was flush with embarrassment.