Page 91 of Nathan
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Serena
“Can you focus for a second? You keep looking at your phone.”
“Sorry!” Denise had a cookie in one hand and her phone in the other. “I’m waiting for Kevin to write me back. His editor better love his article, or I’m going to fly across the country and throw a tantrum in his fancy New York office. This story is a scoop, and we delivered everything they needed. I forwarded everything we have from Lucille and the detectives.”
“Maybe Kevin’s editor thinks Hollywood scandals are below him. Kevin is a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist after all.”
“Oh, honey. Kevin wouldn’t touch this story if we didn’t come at it from a different angle.” Denise brushed her hair back. Like most black women I knew in this industry, her hair was always styled. In the seven years, I’d known Denise, she’d had dreadlocks, an afro, and now she was sporting long extensions. Biting into her cookie, she looked out over my garden with the large pool area. “Did I tell you Kevin and I go way back? I went to college with his brother. Kevin and I actually had a date on my third year at Plymouth.”
“You dated Kevin?”
“Uh-huh. More than twenty years ago. We weren’t a match. From what I remember, he wouldn’t stop talking about politics, and I was more interested in the latest movies and music.”
“But you remained in contact?”
“Enough that I could call him up and sell him this story.” Denise checked her phone again. “Still nothing.”
I sat on my living room floor with my back up against one of my couches. Looking at the text on my laptop in front of me, I said, “I’m proud of Lucille. She did a good job interviewing Nathan and his colleagues.”
“Yes.”
“Tell Kevin that I want her name mentioned as a contributor to the article.”
“I don’t think…”
Cutting Denise off, I frowned, “It’s important to me! Kevin is getting everything served on a silver platter while Lucille went out and did the interviews.”
“I’m sure he’ll follow up and do his own interviews.”
“Denise, I want you to insist on it. Okay?”
“Why? Lucille is probably happy to contribute to aNew York Timesstory.”
Getting up on my knees, I spoke in a stern tone. “Remember those two movies I did for free because my agent told me it was going to open doors for me, and then you came along and said I was being exploited?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“You made me one of the highest-paid actresses in the world, so of all people, you should be the first to insist that Lucille not only gets paid for her work but mentioned too. You were the one who said we women have to stick together.”
Denise’s nostrils expanded as she exhaled with sound. “You’re right, it’s just that I want Kevin to get this story published, and pushing him with demands won’t help. We’re already on a knife’s edge here. If they find out about the contract you and Storm signed with the film studio, we could be in big trouble.”
“It’s the last time I ever sign a contract like that.”
“Yes, you already told me three times, but it doesn’t change the fact that you can’t talk about that part of Hollywood. It has to remain secret.”
“I’m not trying to commit professional suicide. I’m just fed up taking the blame while Storm spins it to his advantage. He might get away with this abusive behavior with other women, but I don’t play like that.”
“I know you don’t.” Denise gave me a proud smile before checking her phone for the seventeenth time. Two more chins formed under her jaw as she looked down and pushed her glasses into place. “We have an answer from Kevin.”
“What did he say?”
She was quiet for a long second, reading, and then she looked up from her phone. “They’re gonna publish the article.”
From the way she said it, I could tell that Denise hadn’t believed it would happen.
“That’s great!” I leaned over the table with my hand stretched out to give her a high five.
