Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [72]
“Someone has been sending me photos of little girls saying that one of the pictures is Madison, and tonight this columnist called and asked about her,” I said.
“Who is Madison?” Ava asked.
“Your granddaughter,” I said.
“I don’t have a granddaughter.”
“Cut the act, Ava. I know you’re behind this,” I said. I was so mad, I wanted to pull the phone out of the wall and hurl it through the window.
“Yancey, listen to me. First of all, I don’t want anyone to think I’m a grandmother. I still have some bookings in Europe this summer. And if I’ve told you this once, I’ve told you a million times: Forget about that little girl and go on with your life. What would I have to gain by bringing her back into your life?” Ava asked.
“Then who could be doing this? How could the media know about this?”
“What about your manager, Basil the bisexual?”
“Basil wouldn’t do that. He loves kids and he knows how hurtful this would be for her,” I said.
“You have left plenty of crumbs behind for a lot of enemies to follow your trail,” Ava said.
“That’s not true.”
“You can fool yourself if you want, but you’re not the only diva out there who will do anything to get ahead. Of course, the others didn’t have all the advantage of having me as a partner. Now, what about me taking over? I’ll find out who’s trying to spook you.”
Maybe Ava wasn’t behind the Madison photos and calls. She was right about not wanting Madison in her life any more than she wanted Basil in mine. Still, I didn’t think I could trust her, and it made me sad because she was still my mother.
“I need to go. How long are you here?”
“Until I take care of my business,” Ava said.
“Goodbye, Ava,” I said as I hung up the phone.
• • •
I was at home, a couple days after my evening with Desmond, watching The View, when Michel called with more good news. He told me my CD had jumped five spots on the R & B chart and six on the pop chart. I still didn’t understand why African American artists had to worry about two charts instead of who was selling the most records. The video was in heavy rotation on all the music channels, and he thought it was time to shoot the new video for the second single so that it would help the CD go platinum in less than a month. Everybody was telling me that if the video had been released with the single, my song would be number one by now, or at the very least in the top five.
“This is so exciting,” I said.
“Yeah, it is. One more month before the second single drops, so we need to be one step ahead,” Michel said.
“Tell me what I need to do.”
“Just do what you do. Oh yeah, I think we might be able to get Billy Woodruff to direct number two. I’m not certain, but I’ve got a call in to his agent,” Michel said.
“What about using Desmond again?”
“You want to do that?”
“He did a great job, and he’s easy to work with. I say let’s stick with a winner,” I said. I was also thinking it would be nice to see Desmond and maybe find out why he hadn’t called the morning after our Aïda date.
“I’ll check with his agent. Also, I think we’re going to do this on location. Right now, I’m checking out some spots in South Beach. So it might take a couple of days. Where would you like to stay?”
“The Delano. And make sure you put Desmond there as well.”
“First I need to see if he can do it,” Michel warned.
“I think he’d do it for me. Why don’t you let me call him,” I suggested. Desmond would be happy to hear my voice, especially when I was bringing him work.
“You want to do that? I mean, I can get my assistant to take care of those details.”
“Let me do it. You handle the hotel and travel plans,” I said.
“What about casting? Do you want to sit in on it? We could save a lot of time if we cast in New York. I know Miami has several agencies, but most of the guys down there are biracial,” Michel said.
“You do it, even though it would be nice if we could find someone like Bart,” I said, recalling the nightmare the first casting had been but how Bart and Desmond had made the video fun to shoot.
“Okay. I’ll take care of that.