Drama 99 FM (9 page)

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Authors: Janine A. Morris

BOOK: Drama 99 FM
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“Well, maybe it's time you start making yourself more noticeable,” Devora said.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Like wearing different clothes, changing your hair—you know, catching up to New York trends around here. Tyreek is probably accustomed to a certain type of girl. You can at least try to step up your game some.”
Naomi looked down at the purple knit sweater and Mossimo jeans she was wearing.
“Well, then, I guess you're going shopping with me this Friday.”
“I guess you're going to pay me for all my services rendered,” Devora replied.
They both laughed.
“Good-bye, crazy,” Naomi said. “The Wicked Witch of the East will be back soon.”
“Lata,” Devora said.
Naomi hung up and got back to work, sorting through the SoundScan files. SoundScan was the report of all the albums sold for the week; it was released to the industry every Tuesday, and careers were made and lost because of this report sometimes. At the end of the day, no matter how many bottles got popped in a video or how many Bentleys were driven to the clubs, album sales were all that really mattered. A part of Naomi's job was extracting all the sales figures for all the urban artists and keeping them in a spreadsheet alongside the information on the amount of spins that week. The promotion department where Naomi worked dealt with the artists' visibility and popularity. Her department promoted the music to radio stations all across the world in hopes of getting records played, and they arranged in-store signings and other events and opportunities to help make the artists more popular. Naomi enjoyed her job; although she wasn't a big part of the program yet, she believed that, in time, she could be.
She sat there, doing her work and randomly thinking about Tyreek and all the other cute guys she worked with who never paid her any mind. She wasn't sure if Devora was right about her needing to update her look—all she knew was that she was tired of spending all her nights and weekends alone at home. She wasn't sure what she was going to do, but she knew she had to make stronger efforts to get some attention. Just the thought of talking to Tyreek made her nervous. What should she say to a guy like him? He was a mover and shaker in the business. He seemed like the type of guy who was interested in only money and power—two things Naomi knew nothing about. She knew if she was going to try to find the courage to speak, she had to take advantage soon, because to her understanding he traveled a lot with the artists, so she would have only limited amounts of time to spark a conversation with him. She was definitely not skilled in the area of catching a man, and definitely not a man this far out of her league. She had realized less than a week after she'd moved to New York that the pace of things was also way out of her league, especially in the music business. She had never had a chance to learn the ropes or adapt to the pace, but she was tired of being a fish out of water. She knew if she could get Tyreek's attention, she could finally begin to make her time in New York a lot more interesting.
Chapter 15
K
D sat down on the edge of the office chair as though he had no intention to stay long. Madison had scheduled a meeting with him, and she hadn't told him what it was about, but she was pretty sure he knew it was regarding his incident with Tryme and getting arrested. She wasn't in the best of moods on this particular day, and everyone knew on days like this they shouldn't push her buttons.
She was wearing some gray fitted Joe's Jeans with a long-sleeved white and black Baby Phat top—it was one of her favorite shirts because on the back, in small print, it said
DIVA
ON
BOARD
. She was wearing her flat gray boots, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was dressed down, enjoying a casual day at work, but just because she was dressed casually didn't mean she wasn't taking care of business.
“Sit back, take off your jacket, stay a while,” Madison said as she leaned back in her chair.
“I have another meeting after this. Is this going to be long?”
“Well, about as long as you make it. We need to cover some things. If you cooperate and I get what I need by the end, you will make your meeting.”
The look on KD's face meant he wasn't interested in that response, but instead of challenging her, he just removed his navy blue flight jacket. Underneath he wore a white and navy blue Alador & Smith shirt with some True Religion jeans and construction boots. KD had one of the biggest names in radio, and he was well paid and very well respected. Good talent was hard to come by, and he knew this, so although he worked for Madison, he was also well aware of his worth at the station.
“Listen, KD, I am not trying to bust your balls in here, but I am just a bit fed up with having to talk to you.”
“What I do?” he asked.
“Well, for one, this getting arrested situation. This station doesn't need any more drama surrounding it, no pun intended.”
“That wasn't my fault—he came at me, and I defended myself.”
“You do know that self-defense is only justifiable when you match the force.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If he used his fists, you can defend yourself with only fists. Once you picked up a weapon, it was no longer self-defense because he didn't have a weapon. You upgraded the level of force.”
“Yeah, my lawyer told me something like that.”
“Well, this is likely to carry on a bit longer if he chooses to press charges.”
“I am working on getting the charges dropped. Besides, I heard he is going to anyway because he knows this is a horrible look for his career,” KD said.
“Exactly. You can't be on air threatening to ruin his career and never play his music. We are supposed to play songs our listeners want to hear, not just the ones by the artists you get along with.”
“I didn't mean it like that. I am just saying how he going to be rapping about being all hard and he pressing charges over a fight? He is getting killed in the streets right now, so he was going to drop it for that reason, not me.”
Madison laughed. “Well, that's very true. I thought the same thing, but I figured he was trying to get a few moments of fame in all the entertainment news reports.”
“Yeah, he may have been, but he realized how it backfired.”
“Well, I just wanted you to know how to handle it discreetly. The business department gave the tapes the police were asking for. Lucky for you, the tapes didn't catch everything, but it did show some stuff. I don't think you have much to worry about, but I just need you to be easy for a bit.”
“No problem, I'm over it. People is talking, he is looking like a herb, I am done with it. He will drop the charges if he knows what's good for him, and if not, I have a very well-paid attorney. I'm not all that concerned,” KD said.
“OK, well, then good. Let's talk about the other thing I have you in for.”
KD looked at her with his eyebrows raised.
“Your talk breaks—they are too long, and you—” A beeping noise came from her phone; she looked over, and it was her intercom. “Hold up,” she said to KD. She answered the phone.
“You have a call from someone who says it is very important. He said you know who it is, but he won't tell me,” Alexis said.
“You know better than to call me with this nonsense. If he doesn't give a name, he must not want to speak with me. I have to go.”
She hung up the phone and looked back at KD. He was just shaking his head.
“You are so hard on that poor girl,” he said.
“Come on now, how is she going to expect me to get on a call without knowing who it is? For all I know, it's some unsigned rapper trying to get my ear about radio spins, and she's trying to put them through.”
KD's bass-filled laugh filled the room.
The beeping sound started again. Madison answered it. “Yes, Alexis.”
“It's Clarence,” she replied.
Madison froze. A piece of her wanted to take the call just to see what he had to say, but she knew she shouldn't talk to him in front of KD. Besides, she didn't want him calling her at the station making things look too comfortable between the two of them. She knew Alexis might have recognized his voice, so his secret-admirer game he played was not helping anything. She knew she might be paranoid—maybe no one would notice anything. It wasn't as if she didn't have a lot of artists as associates and friends. It was just that if this even raised one eyebrow in the industry, and it got out of control, she could lose her job. Polytics, on the other hand, would be a multiplatinum-selling artist.
“Tell him I am in a meeting and I will call him when I am done,” she said.
She hung up the phone and could see that KD was glued to his BlackBerry, pushing buttons. She was glad because she figured he wouldn't ask any questions; she only prayed he didn't know Polytics's real name because she didn't feel like having to come up with an excuse for avoiding his call. When artists took the time to call personally, it was very rare that she didn't take the call. That is, if she wasn't fucking them, of course.
“An important call from Clarence? Who is that, a secret admirer?” KD asked as he looked up from his BlackBerry.
Damn, he was paying attention,
she said to herself.
“No, just a colleague,” she replied. “But back to what I was saying . . .”
“Yeah, I have been cutting my talk breaks a lot. I will have Vice give you an air check,” he said.
“Yes, I will need that. I will also need you to give me your topic points before each show—e-mail them to me.”
“Give you my topic points? Are you serious? I don't know my topic points in advance. I just talk.”
“That's the problem, you just talk.”
“You are killing me. You can't actually expect me to send you topic points before my shifts.”
“Alright, well, how about this? You work on keeping your talk breaks under three minutes, keep your beef off the air, and cover the relevant entertainment news, and I won't need the topic lists . . . but I will want air checks for a month straight to make sure you are working on it,” she said.
“A'ight, that's fair.”
“OK, so then we are done. You can run off and make your next meeting,” she said.
KD pulled his jacket back on.
“Alright, I will see you later, boss lady.”
KD headed out and left the office door open behind him. She looked over at her phone for a second, contemplating if she should call Polytics back, but instead she turned around and began checking e-mails. She was tempted, but she didn't want to give him the idea it was OK to call up to the station. She was hoping that despite what had happened between them, things could remain business as usual. Her concern was that maybe this was just wishful thinking, and maybe he was the wrong guy to take this risk with. So far, it didn't seem as though he was playing his cards right.
Chapter 16
T
he job was still considerably new, and it hadn't come with a handbook, but Sereeta was learning quickly that at times she was meant to be seen and not heard. The ballplayers were used to carrying on with their regular course of business regardless of who was around or where they were—at least, that was the impression Sereeta had. In the first couple weeks she had been introduced to everyone as Corey's assistant, and since then they had treated her like a teammate. They spoke freely in front of her, changed in front of her, and several times acted as if she weren't there. Sereeta couldn't help but wonder if Corey was supposed to give her a 101 on what to expect with the job because it seemed like an adventure each day.
She reminded herself that this was a job. She wasn't going to get emotionally attached to anyone in her work because it would only backfire. She also realized it was best that she mind her own business as to the things going on around her. Being around the girls, the drugs, the plotting . . . Sereeta felt as if she were a fly on the wall. It seemed just because she worked for Corey Cox, people didn't care what they said or did in front of her. It made her extremely uncomfortable, but the more time that had passed, the more she was getting used to it.
It was a Thursday afternoon, and there was a home game that evening. Sereeta showed up at the stadium early to get Corey's clothes from the cleaners and swap out the clothes in his locker. She was dressed in blue jeans and a white T-shirt with a short black knit cardigan over it. She'd had a late start and hadn't put much effort into her outfit for the day, but like most days she still looked casually cute. She was hoping it was early enough in the day where she would barely see anyone while she was out and about and that she could get back home at a decent time. Some of the assignments Corey had given her to do for the week consisted of things she could do from home as well, such as a few phone calls and recording some of the ESPN footage.
She pulled out the access card Corey had bestowed upon her and swiped it to access the locker room. When she walked in, she could hear voices coming from deeper in the room. The locker room had a lobby area, a few lounge areas, and the location with the lockers and seats. When she passed the main lobby area, she could see that a few of the players were sitting around shooting the breeze. They all gave relaxed hellos and went right back to their conversation. Sereeta greeted them in return but continued to Corey's locker. At first, Sereeta paid them no mind, but as she leaned inside Corey's locker, she began to pay attention to what they were talking about.
“Nah, Shorty was official,” Lonnie said. “I saw her when she first got to the hotel.”
“Oh, you saw her?” France asked.
“Yeah, the brown-skinned one with the fat ass, right?” Lonnie replied.
“Yeah, she came back up to the room with me,” France said. “I had to get Tyrone and Nate to go back to Nate's room. My brother Mark had bagged her friend, so he took her to Tyrone's room. As soon as the coast was clear, this bitch wasted no time. She just dropped to her knees and started sucking me off.”
Sereeta was able to tell that he was telling a story about some girl he had met a couple nights ago and taken to a hotel. They were huddled around in the locker room like they were sharing ghost stories on a camping trip. France went on to tell them how they'd ended up smoking marijuana and all the things the girl was willing to do and did for him. Sereeta was moving along as if she wasn't paying attention, but although the locker room was spacious, when it wasn't crowded, voices traveled. So even though she could pretend, there really was no way they could think she didn't hear them. With the tabloids paying thousands for great stories, she would've thought they would be more discreet with their business. It was almost as though they were daring her to say something.
The players weren't supposed to smoke marijuana, especially not during the season, and here these guys were talking about it like it was nothing. Sereeta couldn't tell if they trusted her that much or if they were just too stupid or didn't care. It wasn't the first time one of them had said something in front of her that—if she'd wanted to make an easy and quick few thousand dollars—she could've shared with the tabloids. They were damn lucky Sereeta was trying to keep her job and didn't want to get blackballed from the sports world, because she knew quite a bit about the players' secret lives. She had met a couple of their mistresses; she knew a lot of their tricks as to how they kept their secret lovers secret and all the ways they met the girls and everything. One thing Sereeta learned was these men talked just as much in their locker rooms as women did at nail salons.
She had zoned out of the conversation for a while—that is, until she heard them talking about Corey.
“Nah, that bitch Flash bagged was bad, too. Don't get it twisted,” France said.
“She was a'ight, the Spanish one?” Mike said.
“Nah, she was black. She was, like, caramel complexioned, five-five; she had some big-ass titties,” he said.
“Oh, yeah!” Collins said, jumping out of his seat like he'd just won on a game show. “She was bad as hell.”
“Yeah, she was leaving the restaurant when we was through eating, and she was trying to get his attention. At first, he wasn't even checking on her, and I was like, ‘If you don't bag, I am'—she was definitely a ten,” France said.
For some reason Sereeta began to feel her heartbeat racing. She wasn't sure if she was angry or jealous or just nervous to be overhearing something about her boss. She felt like she knew Corey better than all of them. She worked with him almost every day; she saw him when he was upset, tired, happy, energetic; she knew all sides of Corey. She was pretty sure some of them knew him pretty well as well, but she felt like they downplayed her relationship with him. If they had any respect for her, they wouldn't be talking about him so freely, but, then again, it wasn't like they were insulting him. She couldn't tell why she was getting upset, she just felt weird hearing about some girl Corey had bagged on the road.
“He is always like that, though—he be letting a lot of good ones get away,” France said.
“Remember last season when that girl was dancing on him all crazy in the club—she was trying to fuck him on the dance floor, and all he did was walk away,” Lonnie said.
“She was cute, too—a little skinny, but cute,” Collins said.
“Nah, even worse than that was that time those girls were in front of the hotel rooms, and that Spanish broad took her panties off and handed them to him and he just gave them back. We were on the road for like four nights and he didn't smash nothing the whole time.”
“He just seems real picky or real focused,” Mike said.
“Focused on what? He isn't married. He doesn't even have a girlfriend,” France said.
“Focused on the game, on his career. And he does have a girl, I thought—that brown-skinned joint from where he's from,” Mike said.
“I don't know, but if so, that shit isn't worth all that. She isn't even here.”
“I respect him for it, but sometimes I be like, ‘Damn, man, you not going to hit that?' ” Collins said.
“Yeah, if we didn't know any better, you would think he was gay,” Mike said.
They all began to laugh. Just at that moment Sereeta dropped her purse, and a bunch of her items and some change fell out. She quickly squatted down to pick up the contents from her bag.
“Don't worry, your boss isn't gay,” France said.
She looked up and saw France standing a few feet away, looking down at her.
“Huh?” she said, pretending she didn't know what he was referring to.
“You was over here listening to us talking about your boss? Flash is our boy—we are just clowning on him, so you can relax. Over here dropping shit,” he said.
Sereeta finished putting her belongings in her bag and stood up. She grabbed Corey's athletic bag and headed toward the door. She could hear France laughing and saying something to the guys, and she just assumed they were talking about her. She was so embarrassed and so angry. She was happy to hear that Corey wasn't such a pig like the rest of them, but having to find out that gossip at the cost of being embarrassed . . . She wasn't sure it was worth it. Besides, the girlfriend at home clearly had his heart. She didn't know why she cared anyway.

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