Fortune & Fame: A Novel (18 page)

Oh, God,
Jasmine thought. She didn’t feel like having to deal with Rachel’s middle-school attitude today. “You’re the only Rachel in here.”

“You don’t have to get smart about it. First of all, you approached me. And secondly, I asked because you haven’t said two funky words to me since we started this show.”

Jasmine frowned. “What are you talking about? We speak to each other in every scene.”

“Yeah, just for the cameras. And just so you can embarrass me. But now you want to get all friendly with me?” Rachel sucked her teeth. “Please! I need to go home with my husband.”

Jasmine sighed. “Please, Rachel.” She lowered her voice. “I really need to speak with you in private.”

It must’ve been the word
private
that made Rachel face Jasmine once again.

With her voice still lowered, Jasmine added, “I need to speak with you away from the cameras.”

If Jasmine wanted to speak to Rachel in private, there had to be something juicy going on and Jasmine knew Rachel would never resist juicy—Rachel was just that nosey.

“Okay,” Rachel began in a tone that sounded like she was the one in charge of this conversation. “Let’s talk in the bathroom. The cameras won’t come in there.”

As Jasmine followed Rachel, she replayed in her mind the words she wanted to say. She had to get Rachel to join Team Jasmine.

Inside the bathroom, Jasmine stopped in front of the counter, but Rachel kept moving. She frowned as Rachel first peeked under each stall, and then pushed each door open. The bathroom was huge for a restaurant restroom, and Rachel did that for each of the fifteen stalls.

“What are you doing?” Jasmine asked.

“Just checking to make sure we’re alone.” Smirking, she added, “You ain’t street smart at all. Don’t you know that before you have any kind of private conversation in a bathroom, you should always check?”

“Okay,” Jasmine said, trying hard not to roll her eyes. Who had private conversations in public bathrooms? “I’ll try and remember that.”

Rachel folded her arms and began tapping her foot. “So, what’s up?”

Jasmine took a deep breath. These first words that she’d
rehearsed were the hardest to say. “First, I wanted to apologize.”

Rachel raised one eyebrow.

Jasmine continued, “You and I were in such a good space after all that stuff that went down in Chicago and the Virgin Islands last year. I actually thought of you as a friend after that.” She paused. “But it doesn’t feel like we’re friends now.”

“That’s not my fault,” Rachel said. “You’re the one who’s acting like you’re the star of this show and I’m getting in your way.”

“I haven’t been acting that way by myself. I heard what you call me and Mary—your backups.”

The corner of Rachel’s mouth twitched as she fought to hold back a smile.

“And it really started before the show began. Before you even knew I was on the show, when you sent me that little funky email with that fake picture of you standing in front of Harpo Studios.”

Rachel couldn’t hold back her smile this time. “I was just trying to keep you informed since we’re girls. And anyway, it didn’t matter because you found a way to step in and steal my shine.”

“Just like you stole mine when I was supposed to be on Oprah’s show, alone.”

“You know what?” Rachel began to move toward the door. “I don’t need this. You always bringing up stuff from the past.”

“Wait!” She paused until Rachel turned around. “Just listen to what I’m saying. This show has brought out the worst in us and I don’t want that to ruin our friendship. Think about where we’ve come from. I got you out of that murder charge and—”

Rachel raised her hand, stopping her. “Now, you wait. So that we’re both perfectly clear, I never murdered anyone, I would never murder anyone, and there wasn’t anyone even murdered.”

“I know all that, but I’m just sayin’, you were in a lot of trouble and I was there to help you. I put everything I had on hold; I could’ve gone back to New York to be with my husband and children, but I didn’t. I stayed with you. I could’ve let you sit in jail when you were arrested, but I didn’t. I made sure that Mae Frances got you out and got you an attorney.”

Once again, Rachel folded her arms, and now she peered at Jasmine, trying to figure out where all of this was leading.

Jasmine kept on, “I just want us to get back to that place where we were before.”

Rachel waited a couple of seconds before she said, “Okay.”

“Okay!” Jasmine grinned, thinking how easy that was.

Rachel said, “So, what do you want from me?”

“What do you mean?” Her tone was filled with innocence.

“There is only one reason why you would come to me with all of this. You must need something.”

Jasmine shook her head. She really needed to reevaluate her opinion of Rachel. She always underestimated this girl, thinking she was just young and dumb. Well, for the most part, that’s all she was. But there were times when Rachel surprised her.

“Well, now that you mention it . . .”

Rachel laughed, but then all the cheer left her face. “What do you want?”

“You’re right, I do need something. I need your help.” She paused, waiting for Rachel to say something. Then, “You were right about what you said earlier. Natasia Redding is the Natasia from Hosea’s past.”

Rachel busted out laughing. “I knew it! This is priceless. Hosea’s woman is all up in this place.”

“Yeah, just like Lester’s woman is.”

Rachel’s laughter stopped and the way her face scrunched up, Jasmine was sure Rachel was going to start howling at the moon. Rachel said, “You know what?” Again, she turned toward the door. Again, Jasmine stopped her.

“Okay, I’m sorry I said that. It’s just that both of us are dealing with these other women and we can’t do anything about Mary. But I need your help to get rid of Natasia. I need her off the show, out of Atlanta, and out of the country, if possible.”

Rachel tilted her head. “Why all of that? You think Hosea’s gonna step out on you with her again?”

“There is no
again
, Rachel,” Jasmine said, trying hard not to snap. “
My
husband never cheated on
me
!”

Rachel paused, trying to figure out if Jasmine had taken another dig at her. But then she just asked, “So, what am I supposed to do?”

“Help me, like I helped you. We didn’t exactly have a plan when I saved you in Chicago—”

“You didn’t save me.”

“But we got it done anyway,” Jasmine continued, ignoring Rachel’s comment.

Rachel pressed her lips together. “So, if I help you, what’s in it for me?”

“Can’t you do it because we’re friends?”

Rachel laughed. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious, Rachel. Just like what happened out there,” Jasmine said, motioning with her thumb toward the door. “When I was getting ready to talk about Hosea not wanting to be here, and you kicked me under the table. I had your back.”

“No, what you have is a big mouth!”

Now Jasmine wanted to be the one to turn around and walk out that door. But she needed this blockhead. So she just smiled and kept her growl inside. “Well, I stopped talking about Hosea, didn’t I? I helped you out, and now I need you to help me.”

Rachel paused, pursed her lips, stared Jasmine up and down. She did all of that, and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Jasmine wanted to scream. What did she have to think about? And didn’t you need a brain to think?

But before she could go off and say all that, the bathroom door swung open and they both turned.

Mary stepped inside, but then stopped. She looked at Jasmine and then her eyes settled on Rachel. “Am I interrupting something?”

Rachel growled and Jasmine stepped back. Over the past few weeks, there were many times when Rachel and Mary went at it. But it was always controlled and in front of the cameras. Without the cameras, Jasmine had a feeling that Rachel was going to go off. And she wanted to see it. Something might happen that she could use.

When neither Jasmine nor Rachel spoke, Mary moved past them, but before she could go into a stall, Rachel grabbed her arm and swung her back around.

“You better get your hands off me,” Mary said in a sister-girl tone that made Jasmine back up a little. This white girl sounded like she had some black in her.

“Oh, yeah,” Rachel said, not backing down. “And if I don’t, what you gonna do?”

Mary stared Rachel down, but then sighed and stepped back. “I’m not trying to go there with you. I told you, I’ve changed.”

“So, is that why you were all up in Lester’s face?”

Jasmine was mesmerized, but then, from the corner of her eye, she saw movement. She turned her head. Chauncey was tiptoeing in with the camera. Quickly, she turned back to the drama in front of her. Both Mary and Rachel were turned so that they couldn’t see Chauncey right away, especially since he didn’t have any lights on—none were needed in the bathroom. Though even with lights, Rachel and Mary probably wouldn’t have noticed Chauncey; they were that caught up.

When they didn’t notice, Jasmine turned back to Chauncey and nodded her head just a bit, letting him know that she wasn’t going to say a word. This was exactly the scene she
needed, the scene that would show these two for the hoodlums they were. The scene that would show how far above both of them she was.

When Mary asked, “What are you talking about, Rachel?” Jasmine whipped her head around, getting back to the drama.

“I’m talking about you being the conniving snake in the grass that you’ve always been,” Rachel snarled. “I’m talking about you always trying to seduce a man who doesn’t belong to you so that you can get what you want.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m married, Rachel. I have a husband and I don’t do that anymore.”

“You can try to sell that lie to someone who doesn’t know you, but I know you haven’t changed. And that bootleg preacher that you’re married to—”

“He’s not bootleg,” Mary said. Her voice rose with anger. “Pleasant City is a growing church. You’ll be hearing about us.”

Rachel chuckled. “I’m sure I will. Hearing about how you stole money from the church, or how you slept with every man in there.” She paused. “And now that you’ve been in prison, you’re probably sleeping with the women, too!”

Mary looked like she wanted to punch Rachel in her throat so that not another word would ever rise up out of her again. But all she said was, “I know you don’t like me,” as calmly as if she was speaking to a child.

“What was your first clue?”

Ignoring her, Mary continued, “And you don’t have to like me. We’re just doing this show and after that, you won’t have to see me again.”

“Yeah. Just make sure of that. Because if I ever see you sniffing around Lester—”

“I don’t want your husband.”

“Or coming anywhere near Lewis—”

“My son’s name is Lester Jr.”

Rachel balled her hand into a fist and Jasmine was sure
that Rachel
was
going to punch Mary in
her
throat. She really wanted to see that happen, but then she thought about the talk that she and Rachel had just had. And in a little corner of her heart, she did care about Rachel. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want her on TV beating down this white woman.

So, she jumped in. “Rachel, no,” Jasmine whispered, grabbing her hand before it could connect with Mary’s face. “You don’t want to do this.”

“No, I need to stop this heifer, right here and right now.”

“Not with the cameras,” Jasmine whispered.

“What?” Rachel whipped around just in time to see Chauncey clicking off the camera and stepping from the restroom. “Wait!” Rachel said, running behind him. “You can’t use that!”

Mary rushed out behind her, as if she forgot that she needed to pee.

And while they ran, Jasmine turned toward the mirror. She pulled out her cosmetic bag, brushed the shine from her face, applied a little more lip gloss, then puckered her lips. Her work here was done. Rachel would surely help her now, especially once she convinced Rachel that Natasia was responsible for all of this.

N
o matter how hard she tried, Rachel couldn’t reign in the side of her that was prone to acting a fool. That’s because people were always trying her, pushing her back into her past, when she wouldn’t hesitate to give someone a piece of her mind. But she’d worked to move on from being
that
chick. Things like that stunt in the bathroom, though, made her want to revisit that cut-some-tires persona.

Rachel knew how these shows worked. They thrived on the drama and loved to feature women going at it. Whether it was any of the Real Housewives series or
Mob Wives
, the numbers soared when the blows were flying. But while she definitely wanted to be a part of this show, it wouldn’t be at the expense of her dignity.

“Honey, what are you doing?” Lester asked, approaching Rachel. “Jasmine just left and it looks like the others are leaving as well.” Rachel couldn’t help but notice that her husband took great care not to say Mary’s name.

“Give me a second, babe,” Rachel said. She’d been searching for Natasia, and finally spotted her in the back running her mouth on the phone.

“Excuse me, Natasha. I need to speak with you,” Rachel said, stomping over to where Natasia stood.

Natasia cut her eyes at Rachel and said into the phone, “Winston, let me call you back.” She ended her call and turned to Rachel. “First of all, it’s Na-ta-si-a,” she replied.

“Yeah, okay,” Rachel said, waving her off. She couldn’t stand bourgie black folk. That woman knew her mama named her
Natasha
.

“Secondly,” Natasia continued, “it’s very rude to interrupt someone on a phone call.”

“I need to speak with you,” Rachel demanded. “Now.” She would’ve gone to speak directly to Melinda, but Melinda hadn’t been at the last few tapings, almost as if she had completely turned the show over to Natasia.

“Yes, Rachel?” Natasia asked. “What can I do for you?”

Was that irritation she detected? Natasia might think she was in charge, but she didn’t need to get it twisted. Without Rachel there was no show. It was her idea and that afforded her certain liberties. What these people didn’t know, what no one knew, was that tucked away on page eight of the contract no one thought she was smart enough to read, Rachel had gotten Melinda to agree to creative input. That meant the drama that was just filmed would
not
be airing.