Drama 99 FM (13 page)

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Authors: Janine A. Morris

BOOK: Drama 99 FM
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Chapter 21
I
t was Monday morning, and the office was quiet, and the lights were still dimmed. Naomi had made it to work ten minutes late, but most of her department was apparently even later. She went to her desk and logged on to her computer, trying to get her day started before her coworkers filled the department. She pulled the file with the BDS reports she had been working on the Friday before. She started punching data into the Excel sheet; she knew her boss expected to see it by the end of the day, and she was hoping to get it to her by lunchtime.
Naomi was so caught up in her work she forgot about her new look and the reaction her coworkers were going to have.
“Oh, my gosh, I love it,” said Toya from down the hall.
“Thanks,” Naomi said, running her fingers along her hair.
“It is really so cute,” she said.
Another coworker, Simon, stepped out of his office.
“You cut your hair!” he shouted. “It looks so adorable on you.”
“Thanks, Simon,” Naomi replied.
“What did you get, a makeover? You look like a totally new person,” Toya said.
“No, I just cut my hair and did some shopping. Nothing major.”
Tiffany walked up to her cubicle. “Wow . . . look at you, little miss diva.”
Toya and Simon laughed; Naomi just blushed.
“You have a whole new look over here. New York is finally rubbing off on you.”
“I guess,” Naomi said, not knowing what else to say.
“It looks good on you,” Tiffany said. “Now everybody back to work.” She walked off to her office.
Simon and Toya made some last comments before they walked off as well.
Naomi knew she looked different and was pleased that it was so noticeable because she was hoping that when Tyreek came to the department today he would react differently. She was wearing some two-hundred-dollar Citizens of Humanity jeans, a flowy see-through top from Forever 21, and some ankle boots with a gold trimmed heel. Naomi definitely loved her outfit and was loving her waxed eyebrows and layered haircut. She felt like a new woman.
Devora had taken her shopping and gone with her to get her hair cut, just as she had promised. At first, it was a disaster because Naomi found it absurd to buy clothes with such high prices, and Devora had told her she was hopeless, but eventually Naomi was able to invest in some staple items. After getting Naomi to charge some designer jeans and boots, Devora took her around to different boutique stores for cute tops. Once Naomi made it to Forever 21, she was in love—cute clothes for much more affordable prices. By the time she left, she had enough variety to keep up her new look for quite some time. Devora had tried to get her to throw out some of her old clothes, but Naomi wasn't ready to go that far.
Just as she began to get busy into her work, she looked up and saw an e-mail from her coworker Jared. She clicked on it. Someone has a secret admirer. She blushed and quickly replied. Who is that? she wrote back. Naomi returned to what she was doing, but her mind began to race about who Jared had been speaking about.
Is he speaking about himself? Is it Kassan who sits next to him?
She would've loved if it was Tyreek, but she knew that it definitely wasn't him. When Kassan had seen her earlier on the elevator, she had noticed he was checking her out. She wondered if it was someone who'd had a little crush from before she'd made her transformation. Really, she didn't care who it was—it was just nice to be noticed and attractive to someone again.
If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret, would it? Jared wrote back. Naomi didn't even bother to reply—she figured he would eventually tell her or give her a hint, and she didn't want to seem too eager. Maybe the Naomi from last week would have pressed, but this week's Naomi was sexy and in charge. She definitely felt good, and she pretty much knew she looked good. She might not have been video-girl-ready just yet, but she felt much closer to their level with her new look.
Naomi was of course hoping that Tyreek made his way to her department today; the truth was that when he had overlooked her last week, she'd found the inspiration for her makeover. She had put way too much thought into it, so she had already made up her mind that if she didn't see him by the afternoon, she was going to make her way to his department. Her last hope was that he wasn't out of the office, because that was just as likely. She knew she would have to aim for the level of
America's Next Top Model
every day coming to work, so it was only a matter of time when he would see her. She was just hoping that today would be the day, while her haircut was still fresh and she knew she had put her best foot forward for her debut.
 
 
It was around two thirty in the afternoon when Tiffany appeared at her desk with two folders in her hand. Naomi abruptly stopped what she was doing and turned around to fully face her.
“Hey, Miss New Booty, can you go through these two files and separate the content by album release?”
“Sure,” Naomi said, laughing.
Tiffany handed her the folders and walked away. Naomi watched her strut back to her office in her Jimmy Choo pumps. Naomi knew they were Jimmy Choo only because Tiffany had shown them to her when she'd bought them on her lunch break a few weeks ago. The pumps were black and gray, and today Tiffany wore black jeans with a gray button-up shirt, revealing a little cleavage. Tiffany was an attractive, tanned Caucasian woman with a nice body and pretty face. She had long black hair with bangs, large breasts, and a thin waist. She also dressed fashionable and chic; with all the money she made, there was no designer she couldn't afford. She didn't have any children, and she had just gotten engaged a little more than six months ago. There was no question that Tiffany lived the life of the “traditional” New York diva. Naomi envied her; she envied how she seemed to have a complete grip on life and confidence in who she was. Although at times it was hard working for her, Naomi had to admit that Tiffany deserved and demanded her respect.
Once Tiffany was out of sight, Naomi quickly looked through the folders. She realized she'd forgotten to ask the “number-one assistant question,” which was “When would you like this done by?” She figured she could go into her office and ask her or just tend to the assignment first and get back to her busywork after. Instead of having to go speak with Tiffany, she decided just to play it safe. Although she'd learned that the more face time with the boss, the better, for some reason Tiffany just made her nervous. Every time she was around her, all she seemed to want to do was end their conversation so she could exhale.
Naomi began sorting through the two files and using paper clips to gather the documents. Just as she drifted off into her world of business, she noticed a person in her peripheral vision. At first, she didn't look over, because she was in the process of looking over one of the papers in her hand. Then she heard the person speak to someone a few cubicles away, and she recognized Tyreek's voice. She instantly sat up and tried to get a glimpse of herself in the computer screen but couldn't see much; she rubbed her lips together to smooth out her passion-fruit lip gloss. From what she could see, it looked like he might finish with his conversation and head back out of the department without passing her. She wanted so badly for him to see her haircut and new clothes.
Out of desperation, she rose from her chair and headed toward her boss's office. She tried to remain calm and walk naturally without looking over at Tyreek, but she was hoping he was looking at her. By the time she got to Tiffany's office and saw Tiffany's two piercing eyes looking at her, she didn't have anything to say.
“W—what would you like me to do with the files when I'm done?” she stuttered but eventually got out.
Tiffany gave her a blank stare—the one that read
Did you really just say that?
“What would you think to do with them, Naomi? Give them back to me, obviously,” she replied.
Tiffany's tone alone just made Naomi want to disappear. Although she felt stupid and on the spot, she was hoping Tyreek hadn't heard her spoken to that way.
“OK,” Naomi said as she hurried out of the office before Tiffany got even angrier.
As she walked back to her desk, she looked over to where Tyreek was standing. She didn't see him and felt instant disappointment. She had done all that and gotten yelled at for nothing. He might not have even seen her at all. Naomi sat in her chair. She tried to shake off what had just happened and go right back to work, but she kept thinking about Tiffany's tone. Naomi knew if she lost this job she would have to go all the way back home, and she had heard some horror stories about people getting fired from her company. She didn't want to come off as desperate for her job, but at this time in her life, she was. Just as she began to paper clip some papers together, she noticed someone walking toward her. She turned around, and it was Tyreek.
“I know Tiffany is hard on her staff, but we have all been through it,” he said.
Naomi was trying to take in the moment all too quickly. Here was Tyreek, standing a foot or two away from her. He was talking to her, and he was sympathizing with her. Although she was mortified that he had witnessed that scene, she was flattered that he was trying to make her feel better.
“Yeah, I'm getting used to it,” she replied.
“You'll survive.”
“Thanks.”
“I like your haircut,” he said, nodding his head upward toward her hair.
“Oh, thanks. I just wanted to try something new.”
“Well, I like it. The new do looks nice.”
Naomi giggled at his little rhyme. “Thanks, I'm happy you approve.”
That may have sounded like just a figure of speech to Tyreek, but if he only knew how much she really meant it.
“See you later,” he said as he walked away.
Naomi wanted to say, What about my outfit and my makeup? Do you like it enough to date me? Her mind was thinking a million things all while she watched him walk away. She was trying to reflect on the conversation while it was fresh in her mind. She was trying to determine if he had been flirting or just making friendly conversation. She had to factor in that he had come back just to talk to her and that he must have been pleased enough with what he saw to comment on it.
That was all Naomi needed to make her day. Tiffany snapping at her had put a little damper on it, but Tyreek had surely made it bright. She was well aware that he probably didn't know her name, but she was hoping that today could be the beginning of a connection between the two of them.
Chapter 22
T
hey had talked about three times in the past week, and Sereeta was starting to dig Mark. When she left the skybox that night, they had all gone out for drinks. Rashard, the guy Mark had been sitting with, had ended up coming as well.
After being with Mark for less than two hours, Sereeta realized that Corey was becoming the man in her life. A single woman with no consistent male companionship, sporadic sex, and no real social life was bound to get lost in her job working for a young rich black man. Sereeta wasn't trying to unintentionally fall in love with Corey or anyone else in the business all just to be hurt. Mark, she figured, would be a great addition to her life; they had great conversation and seemed to vibe really well.
Reyna and Rashard seemed to get along, too—they also exchanged numbers before the night was done. Sereeta didn't have a chance to get the update on how the two of them were going, but she was pleased with the way things were going with Mark. They had made plans to go out that Friday, and Sereeta was thinking it was best she not invite Reyna and Rashard. She figured she should take a chance and see how they interacted with just the two of them.
It was Thursday night, and she was just leaving the stadium after picking up some paperwork from Corey's coach. She didn't have any plans, but she wished she had. For some reason she had a lot of energy and no desire to go sit at home and watch television. Sereeta didn't have a slew of friends, and the few she did have mostly had lives of their own or didn't live close by. Most nights Sereeta went to a local hangout alone, shopped, cuddled at home alone, visited a male associate, or just talked on the phone with Reyna or some other friend. Tonight Sereeta wanted to hang out
with
someone. Her money was right, she was looking good, and she knew that she was too fly to be cooped up in the house for yet another night.
The air was crisp, and crowds of people covered the city street in front of her. She wanted to mix right in with the crowds and walk among them with some sense of purpose as well. She was surrounded by some of the city's greatest fashion stores, but she had no desire to peruse the racks as she often did. She stood there for a while, just people watching and thinking about what options she had. She already had plans with Mark for the next night and didn't want to call him and try to hang out because she didn't want to come off as too eager. Reyna didn't get off any time soon.
Then she remembered that she had met a few of the other players' assistants and they claimed to hang out sometimes. Sereeta hadn't been interested in joining the NBA Assistants' Associations, but she figured most people hung with colleagues—why couldn't she?
She picked up her phone and dialed Debbie, who was Matt Camby's assistant and had been working with him for over three years already. Sereeta held the phone to her ear and waited for her answer. Sereeta had never used the number before, so she felt a bit awkward, but she knew it was silly to make a big deal out of it.
“Hello?” Debbie answered.
“Hi, Debbie, this is Sereeta, Corey's assistant.”
“I know who this is—how are you, missy?” she said in a chipper tone.
“I'm good. I was just leaving the stadium, and I was wondering what you were up to. I was going to see if you wanted to go for some drinks.”
“Isn't that funny—I'm here at Wish 26 bar with Tamara now. Why don't you come down and meet us?”
“Cool, where is that exactly?” Sereeta asked.
“On Twenty-sixth and Eighth avenues.”
“OK, I'll be there shortly.”
“See you then,” Debbie said.
Sereeta hung up the phone and was happy that she had somewhere to go. Debbie was a cool girl, and she was so thankful she was receptive to Sereeta's call. She had met plenty of stuck-up people to know that the conversation could have gone sour. Tamara was Nate's assistant, and Sereeta figured there was a good chance she knew Rashard from the skybox, so Sereeta told herself to be sure not to mention anything. She just wanted to hang out and have a good time, not gossip or piss anyone off.
The cab she jumped in smelled like must and funk. Sereeta scooted over to the corner and cracked the window for some fresh air. She began to reapply her lip gloss and brush her hair back into the right form to fix the damage the city wind had done. When she finished and went to put her brush back in her purse, she noticed the red light blinking on her BlackBerry. She removed the phone from her purse to see an incoming text from Mark. Her lips formed a slight smile as she read his words.
I look forward to tomorrow night. Call me later. If you are free, let's hang out tonight, too.
Sereeta grinned and put the phone in her lap while she thought out her response. Why, less than fifteen minutes ago when she had been contemplating contacting him, had she convinced herself that she would look eager? He, on the other hand, had reached out, and it was sweet and charming. Sereeta had to admit she liked the idea of hanging out with Mark. She was feeling her outfit and felt like the city was hers for some reason, like she just owned the night and could do whatever and go wherever she liked.
I will be free in a couple hours if you want to meet up. I will hit you up then.
A few moments later, Sereeta was pulling up in front of Wish 26 and paying the cab driver. She stepped out and walked toward the main entrance. There were a few people smoking cigarettes and conversing outside in the front of the bar and a security guard standing by the doorway. She walked up to him, showed her ID, and continued inside the club. She skimmed the bar for Debbie and Tamara but didn't see any familiar faces. She made her way toward the back of the lounge but didn't see anyone still. She stood by one of the tables and took a few seconds to thoroughly scan the location. After looking in every possible area of the club, she looked down at her phone to see if they had contacted her. There was nothing from Debbie or Tamara.
She was pissed off. Was this some kind of prank or mean girl's skit? She began to walk toward the front of the bar to leave, while typing a text to the girls to tell them she was there and how uncool it was that they were not. She was too pissed to call them—she didn't want to argue. Even if they had left, they could have called her to let her know. She excused herself past the crowd by the bar, trying to make her way through. Just as she emerged at the other end of the bar, she heard someone call her name. She turned around and saw Debbie waving her hand in the air over the crowd. Sereeta made her way back through the same crowd.
“Hey, I was just about to text you and ask you where you were.”
“We were in the bathroom, sorry,” Debbie replied.
“Oh . . . duh! That's somewhere I didn't look,” Sereeta said, hitting herself on the side of the head.
“Hi, Sereeta,” Tamara said from the bar stool beside Debbie.
“Hey, Tamara,” Sereeta replied.
“Take a seat,” Debbie said as she lifted herself onto her bar stool and patted the one next to her.
Sereeta hung her purse on the side of the stool and sat beside them.
“What are you drinking?” Sereeta asked.
“Vodka and cranberry,” Debbie said.
“The same,” Tamara answered.
“I guess I will go with the trend here,” Sereeta said as she flagged down the bartender.
After a second or so, the bartender made her way to their area.
“May I order a vodka and cranberry?” Sereeta asked.
“Sure,” the waiter said as she walked her petite frame back down to the other end of the bar. Sereeta watched her make her drink; it was just a habit of hers because she learned early in her “clubbing days” to keep your eye on your drink at all times.
Sereeta found it so odd that all bartenders had such similar characteristics. For the most part, they were petite, bubbly, and attractive. She had always heard that the New York bars preferred attractive bartenders so they would be successful at flirting and selling drinks. Still, with all the bars in this city, she didn't see how the bartenders all fit such a similar mold, as if they were robots trained at some school or off-site location.
Once she received her drink, she turned to the ladies as she took her first sip.
“So, how long have you ladies been here?”
“About an hour before you called,” Debbie replied.
“Oh, OK. Do you guys come here often?”
“Not often. We've been here a few times. Usually we try to switch it up, but Debbie and I usually hang out at least once a week,” Tamara said.
“That's really cool,” Sereeta replied, beginning to feel like a third wheel.
“You are more than welcome to come along. We just go have a few drinks, relieve some stress, recap our weeks, and stuff. This job can be pretty isolating,” Debbie said.
“Wow, that is just how I've been feeling lately. I feel like Corey is my husband, and I have, like, one friend left in the world.”
“Yeah, we know what you mean. Except it's the husband with none of the benefits to go along with it,” Debbie said.
Tamara nodded her head in agreement.
“Matt is married, though, right?” Sereeta asked Debbie.
“Yes, he is, but that doesn't mean a damn thing,” Debbie said.
From the looks of Tamara's snicker and pursed lips, it looked as if there was a lot more to the story—a story Sereeta was tempted to hear, but she wasn't about to ask any questions. Instead of probing, she simply responded, “I hear ya.”
“Nate isn't married, and he's like a spoiled brat sometimes,” Tamara chimed in.
“Corey is pretty laid-back, but he has me do pretty much everything for him.”
“Well, they all want different things based on things they are particular about,” Debbie said. “Like, because Matt is married, I don't do too many things at his home. He has a lot of deals and stuff he works with, and he has me handle a lot of business and marketing for him.”
“Oh, that's cool. You attend meetings for him and stuff?” Sereeta asked.
“Pretty much—meetings, liaisons between his sponsorship clients, and stuff like that. It's pretty cool.”
“I've been to a couple meetings with or for Corey, but usually he has me doing things at the stadium or his house.”
“That's the thing—when you're an athlete's personal assistant, there are no set job duties. It's whatever they need personal assistance with,” Debbie said.
Sereeta had told herself she didn't want to meet with the girls to exchange gossip, and she could see the three of them sharing already. She figured sharing job duties was harmless information.
“The hard part is just mastering your own limits because after a while you feel owned by them and you must begin to say no, otherwise they will take advantage,” Tamara said.
“You have to remember they are young and rich—they become spoiled easily. They are not used to being told no. They have enough money to buy anything, including people,” Debbie said.
Sereeta was just soaking it all up like a sponge. She felt like she was in church receiving a message. She had felt very similar at times but never looked that deeply into it.
“If I knew then what I know now, I may not ever have started fucking Matt,” Debbie blurted out.
Sereeta damn near spit out her sip of vodka and cranberry. She turned and looked at Debbie, who just looked back at her like “Yes, you heard right.”
Tamara began to laugh. “I second that,” Tamara added.
Sereeta placed her glass down and shifted her body more in their direction.
“Does someone want to tell me something?” she asked.
“Nothing to tell. Like I said, it's whatever they need assistance with,” Debbie said.
Were they, like, prostitutes? How could they not hear how they sounded, saying this as if it were just normal procedure? Sereeta had been working with Corey for quite some time, and he had never even implied he wanted those services.
“How long have you guys been ‘assisting' them in that way?”
“Matt told me pretty much up front. He said he was married, and from time to time when he was on the road he might need help relaxing and asked me if I was comfortable with that,” Debbie said.
“With Nate, after a few weeks he asked me one day to come by his condo really late to work on some forms he had to fill out for the association. When I got there he had some friends over, we were drinking, and things led to his kitchen, where it got extra hot in there.”
“Wow,” Sereeta said.
“What? You haven't done anything with Corey?” Debbie asked.
“No, not at all. He is so respectable and quiet, we barely talk,” Sereeta replied.
“That is surprising. It's been awhile, too.”

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