by Deja King
While Richard was going over all the paperwork that Ted Armstrong had submitted, it was revealed that Brian had hired a private investigator to be all in my personal business. What he conjured up was more lies that Brian fed him. He claimed that in checking my phone records, he discovered I was fucking a player from the Washington Wizards for money. The thought flashed in my mind that if I was, I wouldn’t be in such dire straits financially.
“Although these are all lies, how damaging is this stuff?” I asked Richard.
“Tyler, it’s not good. Brian has used all his financial resources to paint you as the harlot from hell. In all my many years of practice I’ve never seen a man go through so much trouble to depict a woman in such a foul manner. You would think you were seeking half of his past and future earnings, instead of what your son is entitled to, which is child support.”
“Richard, take this,” I said sternly, handing him an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“Take a moment and open it before you go in the judge’s chambers.”
“Tyler, I really don’t have time. The judge will be calling for us any minute.”
“Make time. It’s worth it.”
Richard asked the court clerk for a few extra minutes, and he excused himself to another room. I was hoping things wouldn’t come to this, but Brian was playing for keeps. He was determined to ruin my life and that of my son by removing me from Christian’s life. His lies were relentless and his behavior erratic. He left me no choice but to pull out all the stops and protect what was mine. Brian stood across from me in his seven-thousand-dollar Valentino suit, speaking to his overpaid, crooked attorney and making haughty smirks. He believed he had the case all sewn up. That overconfident sonofabitch deserved to rot in hell.
“Why are you just giving me this now?” my attorney asked, seeming somewhat irritated.
“Richard, you startled me.” I was so fixated on observing Brian and his obnoxious attorney, that I hadn’t seen Richard walking toward me.
“I’m sorry but, Tyler, why would you sit on this type of information?”
“It was going to be my last resort. Do you really think I want to air all my dirty laundry in a courtroom in front of a bunch of strangers? But Brian is leaving me no choice. I have to protect my son because his father is a borderline sociopath.”
“You’ve been recording your conversations with Brian ever since you were four months pregnant, and you have printed out documentation from e-mails and two-way messages he sent you. You have every promise he made and broke, and every threat he is playing out. Some of this stuff is criminal. If a judge hears a word of this, Brian will be lucky to get supervised visitations. How in the world did you know back then that you would need this sort of ammunition?”
“I suppose I was lied to and deceived one too many times. I was hoping that Brian would have a change of heart and do the right thing on his own, but he has shown me he has no conscience. I don’t believe any woman truly wants to bring down the father of her child, but when your back is pushed against the wall, you have no choice.”
“Well, excuse me, Tyler, I have some negotiating to do,” Richard said, shaking my hand and heading toward Ted Armstrong. Brian still wore the same smirk that I wanted to smack off just a few minutes earlier. Now I actually pitied him.
When I was a little girl, my father once said, “Beware of the fork in the road; sometimes the hunter gets captured by the game.” Brian was caught, and he didn’t even know it yet. But in a few minutes, he would be well aware of his fate.
After fifteen minutes both attorneys appeared, and the grievous look on Ted Armstrong’s face said it all. From the short distance I saw the once condescending look on Brian’s face turn to pure devastation. His normal glowing cinnamon complexion was now hollow and gray.
“Congratulations, Tyler. You have outsmarted us all. I gave Ted Armstrong until Friday morning to present a credible offer, or we will be more than happy to go before the judge,” Richard said, delighted by his victory.
“Thank you, Mr. Dunn.”
“Tyler, you should be ecstatic. You’ve won! I guarantee you’ll be more than pleased with the settlement deal I will get for you. By the way, what’s with this Mr. Dunn? Call me Richard.”
“I haven’t won anything. My son isn’t a prize. He’s actually the one who will suffer and get the short end of the stick. He will grow up with two parents who will forever be at odds. No one wins in a situation like this, except the attorneys. And by the way, I won’t be calling you Richard. Mr. Dunn keeps it impersonal. Have a good day.”
As I walked out of the courthouse furious at how attorneys care only about the bottom line, Brian grabbed my arm and said modestly, “I underestimated you. I can honestly say I never saw it coming. Is it true what they say? When a man is sleeping, a woman is thinking?”
“I don’t know, Brian. I haven’t given it much thought.”
“Tyler, is it too late to say sorry?”
I chuckled for a second before saying, “Brian, the only reason you’re sorry is because you didn’t get what you wanted. You were willing to destroy the mother of your son because of an overinflated ego. But no matter what you have done this past year, I’m not mad at you. What started off as your curse ended up being my salvation. I finally love me, not because of admiration from a man but because of the admiration I have for myself. I’m truly every woman.” I walked down the stairs not even bothering to read the expression on Brian’s face. His ideas were meaningless and held no importance to my newfound freedom. As the cold breeze hit my face, the self-love inside warmed me up. This journey had truly made me discover how to embrace all of my Dirty Little Secrets.
Freedom
“Cheers,” Chrissie said as we toasted what they insisted was a victory. Cynthia White, T-Roc’s mother, and Ella were also in attendance at our celebratory dinner at Spice Market, a hot restaurant in Manhattan’s meatpacking district.
“I have something to say to the woman of the hour,” Mrs. White said, banging the spoon on her champagne glass. “You know you’ve always been special to me, Tyler, and it broke my heart to see that man put you through hell. But with sheer determination you came out on top. I’m so proud of you. God has blessed you with a beautiful baby, and I know whatever dreams you want to fulfill, no one will keep them out of your reach.”
“Thank you. That means the world to me,” I cooed as I gave Mrs. White a hug.
“My turn, my turn.” Ella yelped. Then standing up, she said, “You are my baby sister, and I always felt that I had to protect you. But in the last year you’ve grown up overnight into a woman I truly admire and respect. I know the decisions you’ve made weren’t easy, and the average woman would’ve broken down and folded. But not you, Tyler. You fought for what you wanted and believed in, and that makes you a winner. I love you, little sis, and I hope to grow up to be just like you…. Oh, before I forget, Mother sends her best and wishes she could be here, but she’s out sealing the deal for husband number three.” We all burst out laughing.
“Wait, I have something to say,” Chrissie said humbly. “Growing up in Temecula, California, if someone had told me my best friend was going to be a black woman from Atlanta, Georgia, I’d have laughed in their face. But not only are you my best friend, Tyler, you’re my sister. We’ve both gone through so much since—as you like to put it—‘just got off the bus,’ but it has all been worth it because we have a bond that will last for the rest of our lives. We’re family.”
“Yes, we are.” I hugged Chrissie and said, “You all are my family. Not only are we bonded by love, we’re bonded as women. Each of you has been a part of my support system, and if I didn’t have your strength, I couldn’t have gotten through this. Every woman needs support and understanding from other women, because as a team we are so much more powerful than if we stand alone. The three of you are my team. I hope that other women are blessed enough to have the same all-star lineup that I have.”
“To that, we
need another bottle of champagne. Waiter!” Chrissie screamed.
Months had passed and I was finally at peace with my life. Driving down River Road with the sunroof back and blasting track fourteen of Jay-Z’s classic Black Album on an unseasonably warm day, I felt alive. This was the first time in so long that I had no man to answer to about what Tyler wanted. I had the power to decide what I wanted to do and who, if anybody, I wanted to be with. I like to think of myself as an optimistic person, but my disastrous encounters with men had tarnished my views on relationships. I no longer trusted the ideals of loyalty and commitment. I’d seen too much and been through too much to think otherwise. But the pink in me hadn’t given up all hope. I was waiting for that special man to walk up to me with a sign on his head reading, God Sent Me to You. But until then I decided to focus on my career, and felt it was time to now pursue my dreams and aspirations. The blueprint to my path was a little shaky, but I wanted to pursue my dream of becoming an actress—not just an actress but a movie star. I wasn’t eighteen years old anymore and just getting off the bus, but I felt that I had talent. And if you put your mind to anything and focus, no goal is out of reach.
I enrolled in an acting workshop to get my creative juices flowing. I had a fabulous teacher, who immediately took to me. She told me that I had incredible natural talent and should continue to nurture it. Between giving all my love to Christian and studying monologues and the history of Hollywood, I barely had time to realize that I hadn’t been intimate with a man in over a year. It was very empowering though, because I knew if I wanted to, I could have a different man in my bed every night. But I chose not to. Mother used to tell me that when you sleep with a man, whatever is inside of him goes into you, and whatever is inside of you goes into him. In the past I had given my body to men who weren’t worthy. Now I decided that I was holding on to all my positive energy. Any man I slept with would have to be able to have positive energy to give me, because like they say, “Fair exchange isn’t robbery.”
One day at my acting workshop William Donovan, a famous movie star turned director, was our special guest. He wanted to give the class pointers about how a movie came together. I was immediately drawn to the tall and unbelievably handsome middle-aged man. He looked even better in person than on the movie screen. Although he was married, I had always dreamed of sharing a passionate kiss with the gorgeous star. He had the perfect deep-brown complexion, and even though he was in his late forties his body was solid. His eyes were dark and beautiful. You could stare into them and see an abundance of wisdom. I hung on to his every word because I knew he was the man who would change my life. William Donovan would take me to the next chapter of my life and help me become a star. I sensed it through my whole body.
“I would like for two of the students to perform a monologue in front of the class. When you’re finished, I will critique your performance,” Donovan said, as if he knew whoever performed would do poorly.
The teacher pointed to me and a student named Michael. Instantly I started getting butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t want to fall on my face in front of the man I knew was going to be my mentor. We did a scene from Frank D. Gilroy’s play The Only Game in Town. I stepped up to the front of the class, and I killed it. Michael did very well too, but something about my performance encompassed raw emotion that ignited the room. There was dead silence as everyone paused and stared at Donovan for his reaction. When he stood and applauded, the teacher and the entire class joined in.
“That was excellent. I must say I’m shocked but pleasantly surprised. My only advice to both of you is to continue with the path that you’re on. I see great things ahead,” Donovan said. When the class ended and I was on my way out, Donovan stopped me and formally introduced himself. “Hello, my name is William, and your performance was superb. You have a bright future as an actress.”
Hoping that I wasn’t blushing too hard, I managed to say, “Thank you, Mr. Donovan. That is an honor coming from you.”
“No need to be formal; call me William,” he said as he gently touched my shoulder. “Are you in a rush? Because there’s a lounge across the street, and I would love to talk to you about your goals for the future.”
“I’d like that too,” I said sincerely. We stayed in the lounge and talked for hours. William was the most intelligent man I had ever met, and I wanted him in my life. After that evening, I knew this was the beginning of a long and prosperous relationship.
A few days later William called and asked if I could meet him at his office in the city. Of course I agreed and decided to put on my pink Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress. I was definitely feeling pink, and I could sense that something amazing was about to happen for me. It was a beautiful day outside as I made my way through Jersey toward Manhattan. When I reached the Lincoln Tunnel and there was no traffic, a smile crossed my face. It was definitely a good day.
Soon I stood outside the tall building in Midtown, gaping through the glass doors and wondering with delight about the possible news coming my way. I could no longer keep my destiny waiting, and I took the elevator to the top floor. Sitting in the reception area waiting for William, I was a little antsy. A million and one thoughts were flashing through my mind, driving me crazy. William finally emerged from his office wearing a pair of jeans that fit his bowlegs perfectly, and he gave me a warm hug.
“You look beautiful, Tyler,” William said as he gently spun me around, admiring my Marilyn Monroe–inspired wrap dress.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Come with me to my office. I want to introduce you to someone named Albert Moore.” I wondered who Albert Moore was, and why William wanted me to meet him. With a beaming smile spread across his face, William lovingly grabbed my hand and put up his arms as though introducing the new homecoming queen. “Albert, this is Angel,” he said. Who the hell was Angel, and what did she have to do with me? I thought. I could tell the short pudgy white man was giving me the once-over. He started at my silver Manolo’s, and worked his way up my pink dress to my glossy pink lips. When a small smirk appeared on his face, I instantly felt he liked what he saw. Albert Moore finally spoke for the first time, and I realized my mouth was wide open. I was dying to know who he was and why William felt he was so important.
“It seems you have found your Angel—and a potential superstar,” Moore said with a wide smile.
I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm and blurted out, “Superstar? Me?” William smiled and gave me a proud look, like a father seeing his daughter graduate from an Ivy League college.
“Tyler, this is Albert Moore, the head of Icon Pictures. He just gave the stamp of approval that I needed for my project.” Then William explained that the character Angel had the lead role in the upcoming movie he was directing, and he wanted me to play her. One tear began to roll slowly down my cheek. William wiped the tear away and said, “My beautiful Tyler, don’t cry. You’re in good hands, and I will make all your dreams come true.” He didn’t understand yet, but that was why the tear fell— because in my heart I knew he would do just that. I prayed to the sky and changed my stars. I finally changed the cards that had been dealt me. This was a new beginning.
After a few weeks of preparation I was on my way to Hollywood. Of course, Brian tried to make a big hoopla about me taking Christian, but with the top attorney that William had gotten me, the judge came up with a temporary visitation schedule for Christian. Brian would have to come to LA to see him. Of course, that was just the beginning. I was positive that Brian would try to fight me tooth and nail to have Christian back in New Jersey. I couldn’t let that worry me, because too many extraordinary things were happening in my life. I was on my way to Hollywood to become a major movie star, and there was no looking back.
About the Author
Joy King was born in Toledo, Ohio, and raised in California, Maryland, and North Carolina. She is representing a new genre of young, hip, sexy novels that take readers behind the velvet rope of the glamorous, but often shady, relationshi
ps in the entertainment industry.
Joy attended North Carolina Central University and Pace University, where she majored in journalism. Emerging onto the entertainment scene in the late 90’s, Joy accepted an internship position, and immediately began to work her way up the ranks, at The Terrie Williams Agency. She worked hands-on with Johnnie Cochran, The Essence Awards, The Essence Music Festival, The NBA Players’ Association, Moet & Chandon, and other entertainment executives and celebrities.
In 1999, Joy attended the Lee Strasburg Theater Institute before accepting a job as Director of Hip Hop Relations at Click Radio, where she developed segments featuring the biggest names in hip hop. Joy pushed her department to new levels by creating an outlet that placed hip hop in the forefront of the cyber world.
Joy makes her literary debut with Dirty Little Secrets, a novel that is loosely based on her life.
Joy lives in New Jersey with her son. Her hobbies include swimming, dancing, and attending fabulous industry parties so she can implement them in her books. You can visit her at www.joykingonline.com.
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