Boss Lady (18 page)

“What do you think he'll say about it?” Robin questioned.

“I mean, he's trying to write more guy stuff right now for himself,” Tracy answered. “It's just hard to get girl projects done. Sister Souljah's book,
The Coldest Winter Ever,
has been talked about as a vehicle for Jada Pinkett Smith for years, and that hasn't gotten done either.”

“Well, this project is gonna get done,” Robin insisted. “But I hear that he's hard to deal with anyway.”

“Who, Omar?” Tracy asked her for clarity.

“Yeah. I mean, he didn't want to write your sequel book,
For the Love of Money,
right? And then you guys ended up winning an NAACP Image Award for it.”

Tracy said, “You know what, a lot of people talk about me the same way, and have never met me. ‘I heard Tracy this,' and ‘I heard Tracy that.' The bottom line is that he gets his work done, just like I do. So I gotta respect that. 'Cause a lot of people will hate on you for no good reason. But as long as you keep doing what you do, you'll keep meeting new people who want to work with you. And that's all I can say about it. He's doing his thing right now and I'm doing mine.”

Well said. I agreed with Tracy. I had met Omar Tyree myself, and he was a straightforward, no-nonsense guy. He came to do what we came to do, and he went on about his business. I never saw him as a public entertainer or anything. He was a writer, and that's what he continued to do.

*  *  *

When we made it back to the Marriott Hotel, I had my eyes glued on Alexandria. I knew my cousin Jason was trying to get at her. And it was early enough for him to get a lot more time out of her than he had the night before.

“So, what do you guys want to do tonight?” I asked the group. We were walking through the hotel lobby on our way to the elevators.

Out of nowhere, Shamor popped up with a few of the camera crew members from New York. I had forgotten all about him.

“Hey, where's everybody off to tonight? What's poppin' in the city?” he asked us. “I'm ready to shower, get dressed, and go out.”

I glanced at Maddy for a second to see how she would respond to him. I hadn't had any words with her about Shamor yet, but I was sure that she was thinking things.

Sasha spoke up first.

“We want to go to the movies and hang out on Delaware Avenue near the water.”

Shamor was still eager. He said, “That sounds like a plan.”

“At the United Artists?” I asked Sasha. She was familiar with the Philadelphia area. It was a thirty-minute drive up I-95 North from where her family stayed in Delaware.

She said, “Yeah.” Then she asked, “Do you think Tracy will let us borrow the limo?”

They were all ready for an answer.

I said, “I don't know about that. I have to ask her. The limo driver may be done with us for the night. We don't have him on standby all night.”

“Dag,” Jasmine pouted. “We wanted to get him to drive us down South Street.”

“What, and be stuck in traffic for an hour?” I stated.

“It doesn't take that long to make it through,” Sasha argued.

I said, “Just about.”

Shamor spoke up and said, “Well, we can all walk then. That's more fun to me, anyway. I want to see this city out in the open.”

I glanced at Maddy again, and she looked back at me. I just didn't feel comfortable between them. But maybe I was overreacting to things. They weren't a couple or anything. They were only talking out in the hallway, just like Alexandria and my cousin. However, I knew what my cousin's intentions were, and I didn't know Shamor's intentions with either one of us.

I also didn't want to single Alexandria out, but I noticed that she had nothing to say about anything. So I was tempted to ask for her opinions on things just to see what she would say about her own plans.

However, Tracy walked by us all in the lobby with a few words for me before I could address my girl.

“Hey, Vanessa, I want to talk to you in my room again before you run off tonight,” she told me. She, Robin, and a few of the older casting crew members had caught up to us at the elevators. They carried boxes of camera equipment, lighting materials, tapes, and bios from the day.

I said, “Okay.” I figured I would catch back up with my girls afterward, and we would decide to do whatever.

So I grabbed two boxes to help carry to Tracy's room.

“I'll be back,” I told my crew.

They all watched me get onto the elevator with Tracy while they continued to decide on their plans for the night.

I rode the elevator up with my cousin, and as soon as we stepped off to go to her room, she asked me, “So what do you think about me directing?”

I hadn't thought much more about it after the discussion inside the limo. I figured everything would work itself out in time.

I said, “I don't know. What makes a good director?”

“You have to have a particular vision and execution for the film,” Tracy answered.

She made it sound too simplistic for me to believe her.

I asked her, “Is that all you need to have?”

“Well, you need to know what you're doing, first of all. But you generally work your way through it, knowing what you want out of each and every character, and each and every scene.”

It sounded as if Tracy was trying to convince herself. She was trying to talk herself into directing by making the process sound extra simple.

I said, “They have co-directors right, like the Hughes Brothers? You could do something like that, just to make sure that you're doing it right. Because I would hate to see you not have it done the right way because you're trying to do too much on your own. I mean, I hear Robin's point, but I also heard your point. And I think the more important part is getting the film done right, and not so much about whether a man or a woman is directing it.”

Tracy looked at me and grinned. She said, “You don't think I can do it.”

I didn't want to say that, but I was skeptical of whether she was ready for directing.

She said, “Remember, Vanessa, I'm not going to be starring in this movie. So I finally get a chance to watch the development of the whole process.”

I didn't know what to say. How could I tell my cousin not to direct her movie without it sounding like I doubted her?

I said, “I just don't want to see you make a big mistake with this movie based on what Robin is saying.” I told her, “Sometimes it's better to be the hero who lets the other heroes do their parts, like
X-Men
or something.”

Tracy said, “I see. Well, just to keep a balanced perspective, I was wondering if you'd like to tag along with me for when I meet up with the real-life people who my story is based on. You already know what I'm looking for.”

I didn't see a problem with it. It would be fun meeting the real characters from
Flyy Girl.
So I nodded to her and said, “Okay. I can do that. So, when do you want us to start?”

I needed to make room in my schedule for hanging out with my girls, and for meeting up with my mom and sisters.

Tracy said, “I already started contacting them. So you just keep your schedule open.”

*  *  *

I got back to Sasha and Jasmine's room and was dressed and ready to go. Everyone was there but Alexandria.

“Did Tracy say we could get the limo?” Jasmine asked me.

I had forgotten all about it. I said, “I didn't even get to ask her. We were talking about some other stuff. But where's Alexandria?”

Maddy looked at me and said, “She had something else she wanted to do.”

I looked at Sasha to see how she would respond.

Sasha read my look and said, “I'm not bothered by it at all, Vanessa. I'm no more than friends with Jason. I mean, I did like him like that at one time, but . . . you know, you grow out of it.”

It sounded like denial to me, but Sasha wasn't the kind to sulk. She was always getting offers.

She said, “So let's go out and have a good time, man. The next movie starts at ten-ten.”

Jasmine said, “But how do we get there with no limo? Isn't that too far to walk?”

She had a point. Delaware Avenue was at least a ten-block hike.

Maddy frowned at her and answered, “We take a damn cab.”

I asked, “So are we waiting for Shamor and them, too?”

Maddy answered, “I guess so.”

She made it sound as if it was a problem. I didn't get into that. I just planned to have a good time.

When we met up with Shamor and his camera guys and walked out from the hotel, headed for Delaware Avenue, all I could think about was Alexandria and Jason. I wondered what Tracy would think about the two of them together. And I wondered if she would get mad at me for my girl doing her own thing. Then again, Alexandria was older than me. She was twenty. So whatever she was up to with my cousin was on her.

“What are you over here thinking about?” Shamor asked me.

He brought my attention back to our outing as we attempted to wave down a few cabs.

I said, “Oh, I'm just daydreaming. Don't mind me.”

“Well, what do you daydream about when you're daydreaming?”

Shamor was obviously trying really hard to converse with me, and the more he tried, the more I avoided it. I even jumped in a separate cab from him and Maddy to send him a clear message—talk to my girl, not to me.

Jasmine even picked up on it as she rode in the cab beside me.

She smiled at me and whispered, “It looks like somebody's feeling you around here.”

I smiled back at her and said, “I know.”

And all night long I tried to avoid Mr. Cameraman, who made my night a lot more draining than I had planned.

Y
ou said you was gon' take me out to eat on South Street when you came back home, and you just calling me now? You been home since this weekend.”

My sister Veronica was chewing me out over the hotel phone.

I told her, “Yeah, but I'm not home on pleasure. We've been running around nonstop since we got here.”

“Yeah, well, my girlfriend Tara said that she saw you down South Street last night with a bunch of models or actresses or something.”

I was stuck. I should have just taken my sister out Sunday night and gotten it over with before we got too busy with the casting calls. It was now Wednesday, June 18, and we were starting our workday at noon instead of at nine in the morning, like we did on the first two days. We were getting a little more downtime, so I finally called my sister. However, she was right. I should have called my family earlier. Procrastination kills.

I said, “Well, what about if we go out to eat tonight?”

“What if I'm busy tonight?” my sister responded to me.

“Busy doing what?”

“Whatever I'm doing.”

I paused a minute. I needed to clear my head before I said anything irrational to her. Veronica liked twisting your words into weapons.

I said, “You want to come down to the casting call? It'll be much less crowded today.”

I decided to change the subject to try and brighten the mood.

Veronica said, “I'll let you talk to Tiffany about that. I don't care about this movie like she does.”

My sister was really beginning to disturb me. It seemed like she was giving me a hard time just for the hell of it, but I knew there had to be a reason.

I said, “Well, what do you care about, Veronica? You're always saying you don't care about something.”

“I don't care” was Veronica's favorite phrase, ever since we were kids:
I don't care about this, I don't care about that, I don't care about whatever.

She said, “Whatever, Vanessa. I'm getting dressed right now. You can call me back later.”

“Well, let me talk to Tiffany, then,” I told her.

“Tiffany!
Your sister's on the phone!” Veronica hollered through the house.

I held the phone away from my ear and shook my head. I could understand if Veronica was mad about her predicament in life, but attitude problems only made the situation worse. She had to learn how to be more proactive and less negative.

I said, “You hurt yourself more than you hurt others when you make bad decisions, Veronica. I just want you to know that.”

I figured I'd slip a few words of wisdom out to my sister while she still held the phone in her hand.

She snapped, “What? What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about your attitude.”

“I don't have an attitude.”

“Are you sure?”

My sister got mad and let me have it again.

“Look, Vanessa, I don't have time for your mental games this morning. Now I told you, you're not as smart as you
think
you are. So go play them mind games on somebody the fuck else!” and she slammed the phone on my ear before I could talk to Tiffany.

I took a breath and called the house right back. I was assuming that Veronica would let the phone ring and allow Tiffany to answer it. But it didn't work out that way.

“Hello,” Veronica answered again.

I paused. Did I really want to continue a dispute with her, or simply move on from it.

I said, “Let me talk to Tiffany.” It was time to move on. I decided it was too early in the day for me to waste too much of my energy on obvious immaturity.

“Tiffany!”
Veronica yelled into my ear again.

I took a deeper breath and maintained my poise until my baby sister was on the phone.

“Hello,” Tiffany answered.

I immediately asked her, “What is her problem?” referring to Veronica. She was really frustrating me, and I couldn't even talk to her.

Tiffany answered, “PMS,” without missing a beat.

I couldn't help but crack a smile. I went from a serious attitude sister to a jokester.