Inner Circle (13 page)

“So you’re saying you’ve never ever once cheated on me in the five years we’ve been married?” She was somewhat embarrassed to ask the question in fear of the answer. “Let’s keep it one hundred! We’ve always been able to talk about everything, and when we got together we promised to lay it all out there. You told me your dirt, and I told you mine. I knew what I was getting into when we got married. I knew, just like every other wife of a celebrity or athlete knows, that cheating and temptation come with the territory. I also knew that I never wanted to ask you a question that I didn’t want to know the answer to, so I never asked. I just prayed that you’d never lie to me or put me in a position where I’d look stupid because of something you neglected to tell me . . .”

“Eve, I’ve never cheated on you.” Chase’s tone was careful yet confident. “I’ve never wanted to.”

“Chase . . .” Tears formed in her eyes. “You don’t have to say that . . .”

“But it’s the truth. Listen, I take my vows with you seriously, Eva. It ain’t about pussy for me, or just fucking some random chick just to get a thrill. I love you. If I’ma fuck, I wanna fuck you,” he laughed.

“You’re such an asshole. You know that?” She smiled, knowing that he was telling the truth.

“I’m your asshole, though. I love you. Just you! And I promise I’ll try my best never to do anything intentionally to hurt you.”

“If you feel tempted to stray, will you please promise to tell me? Give me a heads-up or something. I couldn’t stand it if what happened to my mother ever happened to me. I just don’t think I could live with that kind of betrayal. That kind of lie would kill me.”

“I promise.” Chase kissed her forehead. “My turn.”

“What?” Eve nestled her head under his chin and wrapped her arm around him.

“Promise me dinner at least three times a week.”

“Dinner?” She was perplexed by his request. “What the fuck, you want me to cook?”

He laughed out loud. “No, just be home. Me, you, and a date with the table . . . as a family.”

“I’d love that,” she said wrapping her arm a little tighter across his body.

The two of them shared a kiss while allowing the coolness of the room to calm their still sweaty bodies. Regardless of the facts surrounding the mess that was going on in the marriages of the other wives, one thing rang true with Eve: She had herself a good man in Chase. If having dinner with him and being a family was what she had to do in order to keep him happy, she would make it her mission to do just that!

10

Jackie
closed her eyes and relaxed in the makeup chair of her dressing room at the KTEL TV studios as Marcus applied her foundation. She’d be on the air in less than an hour, and she needed to be picture-perfect. It’s not like she wasn’t always camera ready, but when it came down to breaking a story, she liked to add a little extra effort.

Marcus Riley had been her makeup artist for over two years, and he was noted as being one of the best in the business. Although she’d worked with her BFF Ramon for years, when Ray was traded to Los Angeles, Ramon regretfully declined to follow Jackie.

It was moments like this one that she actually wished Ramon was still with her. They had been together since the beginning, and even though she adored Marcus, Ramon knew Jackie and knew how to give her that extra “something” whenever she was about to break a story. She could have used Ramon today because she was about to shock the entertainment industry once again with an exclusive!

“Miss O, what’s up with your face?” Marcus asked, concentrating on her left cheek.

“It’s that damn kickboxing class,” Jackie replied. “The chick next to me kicked when she was supposed to punch, and I caught a foot to
the face. Bitch! You know I kung fu’d that ass when I got the chance. Can you cover it?”

“Sure, it’s not that bad, but you might want to consider switching to yoga or something. We can’t have you on the air looking like a domestic violence victim. You know you be all up in everybody else’s celebrity business, and they’d love nothing more than to start some shit about you.” Marcus threw up his hands, “This just in: Jackie O’Conner finally met her match. Her husband Ray beat that ass. News at eleven!” Marcus slapped his thigh with the blush brush. “Girl, now that’s an exclusive for ya . . . Okaaaaaaay!”

“I wish a muthafucka’ would put his hands on me. Fuck an exclusive. I’d report that shit myself. I’m from Inglewood; you know we don’t play that. I’ll catch that fool slippin’, fuck him up, and ask questions later,” Jackie protested.

“Stranger things have happened, girlfriend. Trust me, I’ve seen it all.” Marcus smacked his lips. “You have no idea how many wives I know who spend tons of money on makeup just to cover bruises they got from their punk-ass husbands.”

“Please,” Jackie said, opening her eyes. “Ray may be a lot of things, but that kind of crazy ain’t never been one of them. Besides, my mama got her ass beat from my daddy for years before she finally shot his ass. Ray knows I got it in me; he ain’t crazy.”

“Oh, girl, did your daddy make it?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah, he lived. It was just a flesh wound.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a fucking heart attack. I told you I’m from Inglewood, and that was a step up for my family because my mama’s from Watts!” Jackie laughed.

“Excuse me, Miss Inglehood, I forgot who I was talking to! Now be still so I can get these lashes on straight.”

Jackie laughed to herself at Marcus’s Inglehood remark. She was proud of her roots. She knew that being from Inglewood carried the stigma of being ghetto or rough around the edges, but she didn’t care.
It was that stigma that had fueled her passion to succeed. In high school, she had developed a love for journalism. She was in awe of Oprah Winfrey and what she had managed to accomplish, so Jackie had set her sights on something similar. In fact, it was Oprah’s success, not only as a woman, but as a
black
woman, that had inspired Jackie to become the success that she now was.

Jackie had been ruthless in pursuit of her dream to become a news analyst, although there were a few times when that dream had almost been derailed by her other ambitions. Her marriage, for instance, was one of those ambitions. Ray O’Connor had been her high school sweetheart and the love of her life for as long as she could remember. Their grandmothers were childhood friends, making them like family from birth. As far back as she could recall, Ray had been a part of her life. It seemed only natural for them to date eventually. And although her mother was a bit more lenient than Ray’s mother, allowing her to date earlier than him, she waited until it was okay for him to date, and then sank her teeth into him deep. They continued to date through college even though Ray went to Miami while Jackie attended Spellman College in Atlanta. Jackie’s reputation for dealing with a bitch who tried to brush up on her man was well known throughout Miami and the entire Tri-State area.

Even though she’d suspected infidelity on Ray’s part throughout their college years, everyone knew that when she touched down in Miami and made it to campus, that cheating shit came to a close. She’d beat enough bitches’ asses for them to think twice about fucking with her man.

Ray and Jackie married as soon as he was drafted into the NFL, immediately sweeping her into a lifestyle of the rich and famous that was new to both of them. While Ray succumbed to the stereotypical behavior of a professional athlete, Jackie struggled to maintain her identity and focus. She took jobs with local newspapers, sometimes working with technicians and camera crews just to be a part of the action. In doing so, she learned the ins and outs of the business from
the ground up. She wanted to be a journalist more than anything, and nothing, not Ray’s cheating, not two kids—nothing—was going to stop her.

Ray was traded three times, but for Jackie, his trade to the Leopards turned out to be a blessing in disguise. She found herself back in the Los Angeles area, her old stomping ground and the place where she not only felt safe, but where she felt at home. Here, back among family and friends, she wasn’t afraid to take risks. She pitched her celebrity entertainment segment to the executives at KTEL, and they agreed to a three-month trial. Nearly three years later, Jackie was at the top of her game, and her segment was at the top of the ratings.

Maybe she was a little ghetto and just a bit rough around the edges, but so what? She didn’t mind getting down and dirty if it meant she would be the one breaking a story, and she had no problem straddling the fence between right and wrong if it resulted in an exclusive. Her motto was “by any means necessary,” and
any
was the key word.

“So I hear you’ve got another exclusive,” Marcus said, gently blowing her lash.

“Yes,” Jackie smiled, hardly able to contain her excitement.

“Girlfriend, I hope they’re paying you what you’re worth.”

“I do okay!” Jackie chuckled.

“
Okay?
Oh no, honey, don’t even try it.
I
do okay, and you and I both know they’re paying your black ass royally.”

“Just call me your majesty!”

They laughed and high-fived each other.

“Plus, you’re married to that fine-ass Mr. O’Connor. I don’t even know why you bother to work.”

“I love what I do,” Jackie said. “There’s nothing like getting a good celebrity story and sharing it with an audience. Besides, I refuse to be one of those women that rely strictly on her husband’s money. Child, you’ve seen those wives parading around town in cars with
license plates that read stuff like
HIS MONEY
, or
MRS. 85
, or
WIFEY 52
. People think that kind of bullshit is cute, but I think it just strips them of their identities and gives the rest of us a bad rep. Well, I’m telling you now, I ain’t going out like that. I need my own shit!”

“I guess, but, girl, this exclusive story shit can be dangerous. What if you pissed off one of them celebrities and they came looking for you?”

“I can handle myself, Marcus. Like you said, I’m Inglehood.” Jackie opened her eyes and raised her hand for another high five. “Besides, these muthafuckas don’t want to step to me. And for the most part, I do right by my sources. Trust me, I have more allies than enemies.”

“I hear you, but, girlfriend, I’m not talking about your sources. I’m talking about your
subjects
!”

“Oh, they
really
don’t want to fuck with me! Remember, I’m the one with the camera and the microphone. I don’t mind putting your ass on blast, and I have thousands of listeners.”

“All righty, then!” Marcus responded. “All done, missy, now knock ’em dead!” He completed her makeup with his ceremonial flick of the brush across Jackie’s forehead. Marcus held up a mirror for Jackie to see the finished product.

Her close-cropped hair framed her face perfectly. Her smooth, dark skin, large, expressive, chestnut-brown eyes, and full lips all complemented one another. She was cute, and on a good day, some would say that she was actually pretty. Today was a good day.

“Beautiful as usual,” Jackie said. “And I can’t even see the bruise. Thanks, Marcus.”

“My pleasure, Miss O. But when you get a chance, you need to put some aloe vera on that,” he added as he packed up his makeup kit, snapped it shut, and headed to the next station.

Jackie glanced at her watch. She had twenty-five minutes before the broadcast. Feeling the familiar rush of anxiety, she leaned back and closed her eyes again. It was her ritual before every broadcast to
take a moment, breathe, and just pray. As she felt the nervousness subside, she smiled, thinking it would surprise those close to her to learn that after all these years, she still got a case of the jitters before every broadcast. It was always temporary, going away the minute the cameras started rolling. Jackie welcomed the nervousness, however, because it gave her an edge and kept her job exciting. Just a little anxiety kept her alert and on top of her game, and today was no different.

“Mrs. O’Connor, can I get you anything?”

Jackie opened her eyes. It was Shawn Taylor, one of the staff assistants.

“Yes, my usual, please,” Jackie replied. She knew Marcus would be furious with her, but she’d have him touch up her lips before going on the air.

Shawn returned with a cup of warm tea and lemon and placed it on the table next to Jackie. La Shawn “Shawnie” Taylor was a referral of Jackie’s by way of Shawn’s grandmother.

Shawn, like Jackie, was a Los Angeles native with her roots stemming from Carson, California. She reminded Jackie so much of herself when she was just getting started, and reminded her also of her vow to pay it forward any chance she could.

“Thanks, Shawnie. How’s school?”

“Great, I have one more semester, and then I’m finally done.”

“Remember what I told you,” Jackie said, stirring her tea and winking at Shawn. “Look me up when you’re done, and if you’re still interested in journalism, I’ll hook you up.”

“Thanks, Miss O. I won’t forget.” She smiled and scurried away just as quickly as she had appeared.