I decided to arm myself before walking into her office. I gathered my budget and schedule, flyers Erika had made to advertise auditions, and script ideas to take to the meeting. The Holy Spirit would have to tell me how to frame things to where it would be clear I was trying to do my job without defaming Rayshawn.
I walked to her office slowly, praying the whole way. Once again, God didn’t say anything. Just had that quiet, peace-of-God thing wash over me. Of course, He knew something I didn’t know.
I took a deep breath, knocked on Ms. Carter’s office door and decided to sit back and watch how things unfolded.
After we exchanged pleasantries, Ms. Carter motioned for me to sit down. I laid my folder in my lap and waited for her to begin.
“Michelle, how are you? How are things going so far with the shows?”
Shoot. She put the ball in my court first. I would rather her come right out and tell me she knew things were bad and give me my ultimatum about how long I had to turn things around before I lost my show. Her fishing forced me to choose my words carefully.
“Things are going great so far. Of course, I’ve had to deal with the usual challenges, but I feel like things are progressing. In some areas, not as far as I would like by this point, but I understand that’s how things go sometimes.” Hopefully that was vague enough to punt the ball back into her court.
“Let’s get down to it, Michelle. You know I’m not one to beat around the bush. I’ve spoken with Mark about the progress of Indie Artist, and he has nothing but great things to say about you. The most telling is that you’re already functioning like a senior producer, taking a lot of initiative and being aggressive about being excellent and ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, that report is completely different from the one I’m getting from Rayshawn.”
I started to speak in my defense, but she held up a hand to stop me.
“It doesn’t take much for me to figure out why there’s such a difference. I know that you’re a dedicated worker. Eyeing your budgets, schedule, and scripts from Indie Artist lets me know you’re more than capable of doing both shows. I know Rayshawn can be impossible to work with. And I know she has no problem with sacrificing the good of the station for her own agenda.”
Oh, my. Didn’t expect that to come out of her mouth. The obvious next question was, Why did Rayshawn still have a job here?
As if she heard my thoughts, Ms. Carter said, “It may be difficult to understand, but Rayshawn is a very good producer.”
Yeah, but she’s not a team player. There are other very good producers out there without the drama.
“And quite honestly, my hands are somewhat tied with making certain personnel decisions around here.” Ms. Carter looked away and folded her hands when she said that.
What did that mean?
And then it hit me. The rumors about Rayshawn and the station owner were true. Ms. Carter was stuck with Rayshawn, no matter how much she might have wanted to fire her.
Ms. Carter continued, “I was prepared to have a sit-down meeting with the two of you to discuss how best to get your show moving forward. Instead, I got a phone call from Rayshawn’s sister saying there was a family emergency and Rayshawn would be out for at least two weeks. I’m not sure what that’s all about and, hopefully, will get more information as to exactly when we can expect her back.”
I clutched my folder and didn’t say anything.
“That means you have a small window of time to get some things accomplished. I know it’s a lot to ask, with everything moving on your other show, but if you can get me your proposed budget and schedule within the week, perhaps we can get some auditions scheduled. That would require some extra hours from you, but if you’re willing to try, let me know.”
I held up the folder. “Here they are.”
Ms. Carter furrowed her eyebrows as she accepted the folder. “You’ve already completed them?”
I nodded.
“Why weren’t they submitted to me?”
I shrugged and bit my tongue to keep from telling her.
“How long have they been done?”
“A couple of weeks.”
Ms. Carter thumbed through the papers in the folder, briefly reading them. She looked back up at me. “I don’t understand why I’m just seeing these.”
I slowly let out a deep breath. “Rayshawn hadn’t approved them yet, and I didn’t want to go over her head. I’m sure you would have gotten to them today if it weren’t for her emergency.”
Ms. Carter nodded slowly, looked at me, down at the folder, then back up at me again. “Okay. Well, I’m glad they’re done.” She closed the folder and placed it on her desk. She smiled and looked right into my eyes. “I guess things have a way of working out for our good, huh?”
I smiled and nodded. It wasn’t the first time I had noticed Ms. Carter cryptically sneaking scripture into her conversations at the station. “I guess they do. I’ll be pushing to get as much done as I can in the next couple of weeks. Should I report back to you?”
“That would be good.”
I rose to leave, and Ms. Carter stood with me. “Thanks for all your hard work, Michelle. You have a bright future in television. Continue to be excellent in all you do.”
I nodded and smiled. “Thanks.”
After I left her office, I couldn’t wait to get to Erika and Jason to tell them the news and enlist their help in getting as much done as possible in the next two weeks. I was prepared to put Indie Artist aside to get as much done on Destiny’s Child as possible.
I sat down in my office to take a few deep breaths and try to get my thoughts together when Erika came busting in, red-faced and breathless.
“Did you hear the news?”
“What?”
She closed the door and sat down in my office chair, leaning forward like she had the tastiest bit of gossip to share. “Rayshawn is gonna be out for a while.”
“I know. Ms. Carter just told me. We’ll get to get some things done on Destiny’s Child and—”
“Ms. Carter told you? She knew the whole story?”
“No, she said there was a family emergency.”
Erika smirked. “Family emergency? I guess you could call it that.” She leaned even further forward in her chair to the point I was afraid she would fall out. “Rayshawn is pregnant. By the station owner. He’s forcing her to have an abortion. She had a major emotional breakdown.” Erika grinned like she was sharing the best news I’d ever heard.
I frowned. “Erika, that’s horrible. Where did you hear that? You shouldn’t say stuff like that. I know she’s evil, but—”
“I’m not gonna say how I know, but I know it’s true. She’s in love with him and wanted him to leave his wife. He sent her away somewhere to get rid of the baby and get herself together. He thought she shouldn’t work here anymore, but she blackmailed him to keep her job. The only bad thing about it is that she’ll be even more terroristic when she gets back. Ms. Carter better watch her back. Rayshawn might use this to try to take over everything.”
I held up my hand. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear anymore. Even if it’s true, it’s not anything we need to sit around talking about.”
Erika looked at me like I was crazy. “After the way she’s treated you and everybody else around here? You should be happy.”
“Why would I be happy about that? Can you imagine what she must be feeling? What it will be like for her to have to come back here and work, knowing what everybody knows about her? Why would I be happy about somebody getting their heart broken and having an emotional breakdown? I don’t care how she acts. She’s still a person with feelings, and I know she must be pretty messed up right now.”
Erika rolled her eyes at me and sat back in her chair.
“Erika, you have to promise me you won’t tell anybody else about this.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious? Girl, please. Why are you defending her?”
“I don’t expect you to understand. Just promise me, ok
ay?”
Erika stood up and stomped toward the door like a little kid whose fun I had spoiled. “Fine, Michelle. Even if I don’t tell it, people will know.” She gave me a crazy look and left.
I sat staring out the window, processing everything she had said. I remembered seeing the real Rayshawn when we were in my office that late night. I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling right now. I didn’t even know what to pray. God, please help her.
twenty-one
The next couple of weeks were grueling. I worked nonstop, trying to get as much done as I could on Destiny’s Child before Rayshawn came back. We put tapings for the Indie Artist on hold to conduct some auditions. I contacted our sister church in the inner city after hearing about the awesome youth program they had there. One of the youth pastors, Shara Mercer, was excited to recommend to me more than enough kids to tape two seasons worth of shows. I met with a lot of kids and their parents and started writing scripts.
After three weeks, Rayshawn still hadn’t returned to work. Ms. Carter approved everything I had done, and we got Destiny’s Child to the place where we were ready to start taping. Much as I wanted to go ahead and get some shows taped, Ms. Carter recommended I get back to Indie Artist and wait for Rayshawn to come back.
The first taping we rescheduled was Isaiah’s. Even though he had crossed my mind a lot over the past weeks, enough time had passed that I thought I was free of my momentary infatuation with him. I was ready to get his show taped and in the can, so he could be completely out of my mind.
I smelled him before I saw him. When I entered the studio, that African musk scent assaulted me, and I felt butterflies dancing in my belly. I tried to tell myself it was nervousness about my first real taping, but when I finally laid eyes on him, I knew it was more than that.
As he sat answering the interview questions, on camera this time, I was drawn in—again. Worse than before. He had a magic about him that was irresistible.
After he finished answering questions, he pulled out his guitar and did one of my favorite songs from his CD.
When he finished singing, he came off the stage to where I was standing. “How’d I do?”
“You did great. It’s gonna come out good for the show.” I had to keep myself focused on the professional, to keep from melting under that smile. “Did you think about where we can shoot you writing and singing?”
He nodded. “You guys can come out to the house. There’s a lot of light, great windows and a lake in the backyard. We could get some cool shots there.”
I raised an eyebrow. Where did he live? “Okay. I’ll have Erika get with you, and we’ll set up a shoot. We’ll be doing a big show with everybody at Apache for the live performances. She’ll get you those details as well.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He lingered there for a few minutes, looking at me. “It’s good to see you again. When Erika first called me to reschedule, I thought I was getting cut for crossing the line with you. I wanted to apologize if I made you uncomfortable while you were interviewing me. I shouldn’t have done that, but I guess . . .” his voice trailed off, and he smiled a little. “I guess you had an effect on me. Made me . . . I don’t know. Anyway, I wanted to apologize.”
I smiled. “That’s sweet. I appreciate it. And we had to reschedule everything to get some things done on another show.”
“Good to know. Anyway, see you around.”
I nodded.
Jason walked up as Isaiah was giving me another one of those intense looks of his. “All set, man. Great interview. Gotta keep it moving with the next artist. I’ll walk you out.” Jason extended an arm toward the door to lead Isaiah away.
Isaiah frowned at him for a second, said a quick goodbye to me, and left.
When me and the production crew got to Isaiah’s house for the taping, he answered the door in a wife-beater and pajama bottoms. I turned to avoid looking at his thick arms and broad, muscular chest.
“Ummm, did you forget we were coming?”
He laughed. “No. You said you wanted it to look natural—how I always write and practice. This is how I do. Pajamas, by the fireplace, looking out at the lake. You want it to be authentic, don’t you?”
I winced and nodded. I could feel Erika smirking at my discomfort.
The house was spectacular. Two-story foyer and living room with a huge fireplace and large clear windows with a perfect view of a peaceful lake. It was a great house to be creative in. I would have expected his décor to be more artsy and eclectic than traditional modern, but it was classy. His music career must have been paying off more than I imagined. It was cool how he maintained that starving artist persona. He’d certainly fooled me.
When we started taping, Isaiah was a pleasure to watch. Not only because of his great body—although that was certainly nice on the eye. He was a natural in front of the camera. He made it look like we weren’t there. Lost in his own world of music. We got shots of him sitting Indian style, with his guitar in front of the fireplace, singing while looking out the window at the lake. Shots of him lying on his stomach in front of the fireplace with a pencil and paper, writing lyrics.
I put on my director’s hat—seeing how my budget didn’t allow for one—and orchestrated a few more scenes and we were done. “Okay, Isaiah. I think we have everything we need. You did great.”
He gently laid his guitar on the couch and pulled on a T-shirt. He walked us all to the door. The cameraman lingered behind, packing his lights and other stuff.
I held out a hand to Isaiah. “Thanks so much.”
He held my hand a little longer than necessary for a handshake. I wasn’t quick to let his go either.
I heard Erika’s voice behind me. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”
It was enough to snap me back into reality. I didn’t need to be behaving so unprofessionally. I let go of his hand. “See you at Apache on the thirteenth?”
He nodded. “Yeah. See you then.”
I followed Erika to the car, feeling his eyes on me the whole way. It was a long walk too, because the front yard was huge—full of beautiful trees and elaborate landscaping. I had to wonder how Isaiah made so much money as an independent artist.
After a long evening of taping artists’ performances at Apache, I was exhausted. Tired in a happy way, though. Everyone had done great. We had a wonderful enthusiastic crowd that gave the artists a lot of energy. There were only a few minor glitches with the sound system and one of the cameras, but for the most part, everything went smoothly.
I stayed around until everything was packed up and my whole crew was gone. I sat talking to the manager for a while, but my body felt like a truck had run over it. I knew it was time to lay it down.
As I headed toward the door, I heard a voice behind me. “G’night, Michelle.”
It was Isaiah. I tried not to look too happy to see him.
“I thought you were long gone with everyone else.” He shook his head. He didn’t seem to know what to say.
I didn’t either. So we stood there for a few seconds, looking at each other. We both started to speak at the same time. He gestured for me to go first.
“I . . . I really enjoyed working with you. Thanks so much for doing the show.”
“Thanks for the opportunity. I appreciate it.”
We both nodded.
I turned to leave, and he stepped closer to me. “Can I walk you to your car? It’s almost two in the morning.”
I nodded, and we headed out the door together.
When we were halfway to the parking lot, he said, “So, maybe next season, after the show has been long forgotten, we can hang out?”
I took a deep breath and shrugged my shoulders.
“I guess that’s better than a no. Gives a brother something to hope for.”
I smiled.
“Like I said, this might be your divine hook-up. God answering your prayer. How do you know He didn’t send me?”
Thankfully, we arrived at my car. I put my key in the lock and opened t
he door. I turned to Isaiah and gave one last smile. “I don’t.” I got into my car and started it up. “You take care, Isaiah. I wish you the best.”
He stepped aside and let me drive off.
twenty-two
Too early the next morning, the phone rang. I didn’t know who could be calling me at daybreak on a Saturday. I picked up the phone and recognized my mom’s number on the caller ID. A feeling of shame swept over me as I realized I didn’t want to answer. I had been avoiding her calls lately. Very unlike me. Me and my mother were the absolute best of friends. She was the coolest mother in the world.
Except that lately, her conversation always ended up at when I was gonna get married. How I needed to stop focusing on my career so much and think about a family. I couldn’t make her understand that focusing on my career wasn’t keeping me from being married. It was keeping me from being depressed that I wasn’t married. It filled in the gaps, passed the time, and made me feel like I was, at least, accomplishing something with my life.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?” I hoped she would hear the sleepiness in my voice and feel bad and offer to call back later.
“Hey, baby girl. I miss you. I haven’t heard from you lately. You sound like you were sleep. Hot date last night?”
There was too much hope in her voice.
“No date. Just a television shoot that ended late.”
“Working too hard again, huh? I guess that’s why there was no hot date. Say hi to your sisters.”
“Hey, ’Chelle.”
“What’s up, Michelle.”
The voices of my baby sister, Sheree, and my older sister, Valerie, made me sit up in the bed. This had to be serious. “Hey, guys. To what do I owe the honor of this conference call?”
“Great news, ’Chelle. We wanted to share it all together. We wish you were here with the rest of the family, but I guess a conference call will have to do. I still don’t know why you wanted to move all the way over there—”
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