The List

by Sherri L. Lewis

  “Thanks, Michelle. That means a lot coming from you.” He looked at me with those deep eyes of his.

  I stood there staring into them for a few minutes. I think I would have fallen in if I hadn’t heard Nicole’s voice in my right ear.

  “Michelle, who’s your friend?”

  I ripped my eyes away from Jason’s and had to blink for a few minutes to focus on Nicole’s face to answer her question. “This is Jason. My editor. Actually, my right hand at work. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  “Is that so?” Nicole smiled and reached out to shake Jason’s extended hand.

  I turned out of Jason’s view to glare at her so she would know she needed to be on her best behavior because the wrong words from that mouth of hers could end, or at least badly damage, our friendship. Her eyebrows rose slightly as she acknowledged my non-verbal threat.

  “Jason, this is Nicole and Lisa. Two of my best friends in the whole world.”

  “Great to meet both of you.” Jason shook Lisa’s hand after he let go of Nicole’s. “I’m taking off. You guys, enjoy your lunch.”

  “Our lunch?” Lisa frowned and looked at Jason, then at me.

  Thoughts of murdering Lisa on the church steps raced through my mind.

  Jason grinned. “Yeah. You guys probably didn’t know it, but you’re going out to lunch with Michelle today. You guys always go out to lunch together after church. It’s your tradition. For years.”

  Was that mischief in his eyes? Yes, it was. And pure amusement at busting me in a lie.

  He sauntered down a couple of steps then turned around. “I guess we’ll have lunch tomorrow at work, Michelle. See ya then.” He gave one last dimpled smile, waved and turned back around and left.

  As soon as he was out of earshot, I glared at Lisa. “Our lunch?” I mocked her voice. “You couldn’t play along? You had to bust me out like that?”

  Lisa put a hand on her hip. “How was I to know you were out here lying on the church steps after such an anointed service?”

  Lisa and Nicole spoke at the same time. “Who is he? . . . editor? . . . girl, he is too fine . . . how come you never told us about him before? . . . right-hand man? . . . is he taken? . . .”

  I held up a hand to ward off their questions. “It’s complicated, and I don’t want to talk about it. Where’s Angela? Did you guys meet Gary?”

  They both stood there with their mouths open.

  “Don’t want to talk about it? Oh no. That’s in total violation of every girlfriend rule there is. You can’t have a cutie like that up in your life and not share some details.” Lisa’s neck was twisting and her finger pointing. “No secrets among girlfriends. Nine years and never, remember?”

  Nicole laughed. “And I thought you were working long hours because you were so dedicated to your job.”

  I closed my eyes and rubbed the back of my neck. “Fine. I’ll tell you guys about it over lunch.” Probably wasn’t a good idea for me to go home with the feel of Jason’s bicep still pulsing through my fingers. Cold pizza and hot loins was not a good combination.

  “Oh, yeah.” Nicole smirked. “We wouldn’t want to mess up our tradition.”

  “Ha, ha, ha.” I sneered at Nicole.

  Lisa grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s go back inside and say goodbye to Angela and Gary, and then we’ll go to Paschal’s.”

  I resisted. “What if she doesn’t want us to meet him? To avoid having to go through what you just put me through.”

  Lisa’s eyes widened. “Put you through?” She rolled her eyes. “We already met him. Angela was looking for you, too. She didn’t understand why you left.” Lisa pulled me up the steps. “Wait ’til I tell her why.”

  eleven

  The next day, I came to work armed with my excuse for why I couldn’t join Jason for lunch. And this time, it was the truth. Sort of.

  Sorry for lying yesterday, God. And on the church steps after an anointed service. Perhaps having no idea what the sermon was about due to my drooling over men all morning had something to do with it.

  At noon, when Jason gave his usual rap on my door to signify that it was time for lunch, I didn’t look up from my computer.

  He stuck his head in the door. “Ready?”

  I waved a hand, still focused on the screen, pretending to be overwhelmingly distracted. “You go ’head. I’m in a flow and I don’t want to break my concentration.”

  “Really? Whatcha workin’ on?” He stepped his full body into my office.

  So much for my concentration. Even if it was fake. “The promo for Rayshawn’s next show. I need it to be flawless ’cause I have a feeling she’s looking for a reason. If I stay focused, I can finish it by tonight.”

  “Or if we go grab some lunch, you can fuel your brain while we talk about it, and we can come back and finish it together.”

  He was relentless today. Usually, if I said I was working on something, he’d ask if I wanted him to bring something back, take my order, then leave.

  Most of the time, I went, though. Jason, Erica, and I ate lunch together at our favorite little sandwich shop down the street at least three times a week. Gave me some much-needed time to unwind and for us to toss ideas around. Me and Jason bantered back and forth while Erika took notes between bites of food. By the time we got back to the office, we usually had completed whatever the project of the day was.

  But that was when we were just co-workers. Before he became single and available.

  “Jason, why don’t you grab me my usual sandwich, chips, and a drink. That would be a big help.” Not once had I taken my eyes off the computer to look at him. I had pretty much taken the horny monster out in prayer last night, but didn’t want to give him a chance to rise up again.

  Instead of leaving like he should, Jason shut my door and walked over to my desk. He stood there for a second. When I didn’t look up, he put his face directly above the computer screen. “What’s with you lately?”

  “Huh?” I said, still typing away. I prayed he wouldn’t look down at the screen. If he did, I’d be totally busted. I had been typing the same sentence over and over since he entered the room.

  “Michelle.” He said it firmly, almost demanding my attention.

  At that point, it would have been rude not to look up. So I did. Right into his eyes. I thought of all the poems I’d read about eyes being pools of this, or rivers of that, or deep wells of the other, all references to bodies of water I could drown in. That’s how Jason’s eyes felt to me.

  “Huh?” I said again.

  “What is up with you? You’ve been acting strange lately.” The concern in his eyes made my heart flutter a little. I wondered what it felt like to have a man care about me like his eyes said he did.

  “Nothing’s wrong, Jason. Just want to make sure this is straight. Don’t want to give Rayshawn any reasons. Not that she needs any. Remember that time she came in here ranting and raving about—”

  “I know all that.” He waved a hand at me. “Are you sure that’s all?”

  “Yeah. Of course. You know my work is my life.” Great, Michelle. Way to sound lonely and desperate. How in the world did I let this guy—married until last week for all I knew—get to know me so well?

  “I know that. Not sure it’s healthy, but I do know. Okay, if you say that’s all it is.” He walked over and put a hand on my door to leave. I thought I was home free until he said, “So why’d you lie about your Sunday after-church lunch tradition with your girlfriends yesterday?”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t huh me. Your girlfriend—the tall one—had no idea what I was talking about when I said, ‘Enjoy your lunch.’ Can’t be much of a tradition.”

  I let out a deep breath. Tried to think of a lie Jason would actually believe.

  He sat down in the chair again, a tiny grin forming in the corners of his mouth.

  Oh, God help me.

  And mercifully, He did. The door flew open. It was Erika. “Michelle, get yourself together,
girl. Ms. Carter asked to have you come to the conference room. I think it’s time to announce the fall lineup.”

  Me and the other producers filed into the conference room, all trying to be cool but anxiously awaiting Ms. Carter’s arrival. I sat with my hands folded, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Especially Rayshawn. She had a smug look on her face that said she expected to continue reigning as the queen of BTV.

  After what seemed like forever, Ms. Carter finally entered. She had a large file folder in her hands and moved slowly, as if she wasn’t carrying our future in that durn folder.

  I took a few deep breaths. I felt the Holy Spirit nudging me like, “Here comes the great news. You’re in there.” I imagined myself elbowing Him back, telling Him to calm down and not get too excited, just in case my shows weren’t chosen. Kinda silly, seeing that He knew everything about everything.

  Ms. Carter took her seat at the head of the table, sat for a few moments, then opened the folder. The air was tense with anticipation. She smiled a calm, even smile. “Good afternoon, everyone. Sorry for the short notice on the meeting. I’m flying out to New York tomorrow to meet with the investors and the other VP’s. I wanted to have this discussion before we left, so things can start moving. First off, I want to say thanks to everyone for your hard work on your treatments. I appreciate the time and creativity that went into every one. Secondly, there were many great shows presented and if you’re not in the fall lineup, that doesn’t mean that your show won’t be used at another time.”

  I tried to prepare myself for my show not being picked, but the Holy Spirit wouldn’t allow the sinking feeling to settle in my stomach.

  Ms. Carter continued, “Finally, as you know, even with the funds coming in, we’re still on a very tight budget for production. If you’re assigned a show, I want you to think long and hard about what it will require. A lot more hours with not much increase in pay. I hope you can appreciate the fact that we’re building something special in this station and any shows chosen will be foundational for the network. It can lead to other opportunities within this network and elsewhere. Hopefully, that thought will be enough to carry you through the long hours that will be required to pull this off. If you count up the cost and decide it’s not for you, we’ll understand. If you do produce a show, know that your work won’t go unrewarded and that, as the company grows, you will be compensated.” She looked around the table to see our responses.

  Everyone nodded. No one spoke. They probably all felt the same as me. Enough with the speech. Get to the shows.

  “All right, then. The fall lineup . . .”

  I held my breath as she announced the shows. To kill us with further suspense, she didn’t announce them one by one. She had to stop and discuss each one, making production assignments. I tried to be patient, but after the third show, I started to wonder how many they had chosen. What if I didn’t get picked? I’d have to go back to promos and produce spots for these shows she was announcing.

  “Next. Indie Artist. Michelle Bradford will serve as producer with the oversight of Mark Jackson as senior producer. I think you’ll work well together, and I think it has the potential to be a great show. Michelle, if you’d like, you can keep your production assistant and editor, or we can assign someone else if there’s anyone you’d prefer.”

  I tried not to sound too excited. “I’ll stick with Jason and Erika. We work well together. Thank you.” I pretended not to hear Rayshawn clear her throat.

  I faded out as Ms. Carter announced the next shows. The wheels in my mind were spinning. I had a show. I was going to produce my own show. I looked over at Mark. He would be cool to work with. And I’d get to keep Jason and Erika. I started thinking about the artists I would call first. I could hardly keep still. I wanted Ms. Carter to hurry and finish with the show announcements, so I could share the news with Jason and Erika.

  “Is that okay with you, Michelle?”

  I looked up to see Ms. Carter and the other producers looking at me.

  “I’m sorry.” How embarrassing to be caught not paying attention in the meeting.

  Ms. Carter smiled. “I guess you tuned me out, thinking about Indie Artist. I said I really liked the idea for Destiny’s Child. I want to launch it in the fall lineup as well. I think it would be too much for Mark to do three shows, so I wanted to you to produce it, with Rayshawn as the senior producer.”

  That would explain Rayshawn’s need to pick her face up off the table. I was speechless. Both of my shows were being picked? I never imagined I’d have two. But to have to work with Rayshawn? To have her produce a show she tried to squash at the pitch meeting? The one nearest and dearest to my heart? It was almost like asking someone else to raise my child. An evil person with no morals or scruples that I had no respect for.

  It wasn’t like I was going to say no. “Wow. Uh, sure. That sounds great. I could learn a lot working with Rayshawn.” I gave her my most admiring face. Tried to focus on the fact that I respected her as a producer. It was going to be challenging. I’d have to look at it as an opportunity for spiritual growth.

  The scowl on Rayshawn’s face made me realize something else. She’d be producing my show because neither of hers had been picked. Ouch. I wasn’t going to be her favorite person for a while.

  I looked at the two other producers whose shows hadn’t been picked. They did a better job than Rayshawn at hiding their disdain, but I could tell they weren’t too happy with me either. It would be hard enough working long hours to produce the shows on a tight budget. I didn’t need hateration from the other producers I was so glad to be joining the ranks with.

  I squared my shoulders and sat up. The favor of God had gotten me here, and I wasn’t about to shrink back. He put me here for a reason. To fulfill His vision to change the face of black television. I had His mind, and that’s why my ideas got picked. I wasn’t about to be sorry for that.

  After Ms. Carter finished the meeting with final comments and instructions, we all stood to leave. Mark came over to congratulate me. One of his shows had been picked, so he’d be working on his and mine. We made plans to sit down and start some budgeting and planning. A few of the other producers congratulated me and patted me on the back. Ms. Carter nodded in my direction and then left the room.

  I knew the right thing to do would be to go make nice with Rayshawn, but the evil glare she shot me wasn’t the least bit inviting. She was huddled up with her girl, and they were talking fast and looking in my direction.

  I decided to be the bigger person and walked over to where they were. “Rayshawn, I’m really looking forward to working with you. You’re a great producer, and I’m glad to have the chance to learn from you.” I hoped kissing her tail would work. She seemed to like it when everyone worshipped the ground she walked on.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah. I’m sure you’ll be spending most of your time working on your other show with Mark. Why don’t you have your assistant send me a copy of your treatment and I’ll take it from there?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I plan on working very closely with you, so I can learn all I can. I’m sure you enjoy sharing your wealth of knowledge on producing.” No way in the world I was going to turn over my show to her to twist it into whatever she wanted. She’d turn all my inner city kids into video hoochies.

  She scowled again as I walked off. I wanted to tell her to be careful making those ugly faces because her face would get stuck like that. I bit my lip and walked out the door, eager to find Erika and Jason and tell them the good news.

  twelve

  I scanned the audience at Wednesday night service, looking at the men. I wasn’t in a hormonal, lusty mood this time. I just needed to have at least a minute of conversation with some guy, so I could report it at our next girls’ night meeting. For the last two meetings, I had no guy encounters to report. With everything going on at work, I didn’t have time to be man-chasing.

  I didn’t feel like watching Angela giggle and glow or hear about
Lisa’s three men a week, then her repeated slams about me never finding a man.

  I glanced down the row at a light-skinned brother. I didn’t have much time. We had switched girls’ night to Thursday nights because, almost every weekend, Angela was either going to Augusta or Gary was coming here. Lisa also went out regularly on Friday nights, too. She always had some funny story to share about a date gone wrong. Somehow, even with her crazy list, she picked the wrong guys. If it wasn’t for Angie, I would have given up on dating altogether.

  Light-skinned brother raised his hand in response to something Pastor was preaching, and I noticed a wedding band. I wished there was a rule that married men had to have a big “married” stamp across their forehead. That way I wouldn’t have to work so hard to get a look at their ring finger. Looking all desperate and lonely.

  After service, I went to the church bookstore to see if they had Micah Stampley’s new CD.

  “Hey, Michelle. Long time no see. Looking for something in particular?”

  Perfect. It was Kelvin, the guy Nicole and Lisa swore was trying to get next to me. I decided that I would chat and flirt for a few minutes, find some reason to rule him out, and have something to report at tomorrow’s meeting. Thanks, God.

  I must have overdone it. Next thing I knew, I was giving Kelvin my number, and we were making plans to go see a movie on Friday night. Thanks, God. Really. Thanks.

  I was sure God was gonna strike me one day for being sarcastic with Him. I could see Him looking at Jesus and shrugging His shoulders like, “What did I do? She’s the one down there batting her eyelashes and giggling when nothing’s funny.”

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He was nice enough looking—butter-cream colored with nice eyes and a great smile. And he seemed godly enough, working at the church bookstore. He had to be in church every time the doors opened. Certainly it had to have some effect on him. Maybe this would be good for me. I needed to get out there and date, instead of whining about being manless but not taking action.