FanGirl Squeal (RockStars of Romance Book 1) (39 page)

“Is she still in bed?”

“She hasn’t left the house in two weeks.”

“Didn’t she have the
Bad Girls of Hip-Hop
reunion
show to host? Did she cancel?”

“Nope.” Followed by a loud lip smack. “They cancelled her.
And her spot on
Fashion Police
and the
Heartbreak Warfare
movie
premiere. People are canceling her bookings left and right. They’re saying that
they’ll call her when all the drama dies down.”

“STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” I yelled from
the safety and comfort of my room.

“Come out of your room and talk to us,” Troy yelled back.

I ignored him and continued to throw clothes into my
suitcase. Even though everything he said was true, I hate the fact that he’s
right. However, I saw this coming even if no one else did. No one wants to work
with an entertainment journalist shrouded in scandal. They only want to interview
to me. Every single high profile blogger, radio personality, and talk show host
wants me to do an interview.

I am not Cash. I’m not going to talk to strangers about
this. I don’t want to talk to my friends and family about this. There is only
one person I am going to talk to and I’m on my way to New York to confront the bitch.
I want a personal apology and a retraction in print by the end of the week or Ashley
and I are suing her and her company for libel and defamation.

I don’t have to do an interview to clear my name. I’ve
already said what I had to say. I’m not guilty of anything so I’m not
apologizing for something I didn’t do.

I rolled my suitcase into the living room and stopped in
front of Troy, Brandon, and Bria from the salon.

“Where do you think you’re going with that thing?” Troy
frowned.

I shrugged like I hadn’t been cooped up in my house for two
weeks and leaving was the most normal thing ever.

“It’s a week before Christmas. I’m going home like I always
do.”

“Don’t give me that smug ass attitude, Miss Thang,” Troy
snapped. “I’ve been on suicide watch for a week and you finally emerge from
your cocoon like everything is fine. You ain’t foolin’ nobody ‘cept yourself,
sweetheart.”

“I’m not trying to fool anyone. Everyone knows my head is
completely messed up right now. I’m just going home. You’re going home in a few
days so I’ll see you back in Harlem.”

I hugged all three of my friends, grabbed my wool pea coat
that I didn’t need in Cali but would definitely need when I stepped off the
plane in New York, and headed outside to my Camaro.

It wasn’t until I reached the end of the block that I let
down the facade I’d put up all day and began to cry.

I’m a mess. There’s no other word to describe what I’m going
through. My relationship is done and my career is crap right now. Other than
that short non-apology post I wrote a week ago, I haven’t written a word for
fun or for pay.

This is brand new territory for me and I have no idea what
to do. All I can do is go home and seek comfort in the form of Ashley and my
parents. I can lose myself in the familiarity of the things I love and the
people I know love me. And of that doesn’t work, I can always kick Aubrey’s
ass.

****

New York during the holidays is the perfect place to be if
you’re trying to avoid something. Holiday parties, ice-skating in Rockefeller
Center...Ashley and Aunt Charlene are happy to act like tourists with me if it
means keeping my mind off my failed relationship and self-imposed heartbreak.

I think Ashley needed a break too. The parental units were
none too pleased about her decision to divorce Kevin after his first offense or
the fact that she left Kevin’s house and moved back home temporarily until she
finds a new place to live. With my scandal and Ashley’s hasty decisions, my
parents have had enough of the Ford twins.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Aunt Charlene asked.

We were standing outside of the NY Front Page offices in the
blistering cold morning. The collars of our heavy winter coats were turned up
and we’d opted for function over fashion when choosing our scarves and gloves.

“Yes,” I replied boldly. “We’re doing this.”

I quickly started walking up the steps into the building.
Hard dirty snow crunched under our feet as Aunt Charlene and Ashley followed
closely behind me.

“I’m here to see Aubrey James,” I told the receptionist. “And
Matthew Graham if he’s available.”

“And you are?” the receptionist replied, a little flustered
at my directness. I guess it is unusual for someone to come right into their
building and ask to speak to the Editor-in Chief of the magazine.

“Savannah Ford. And these are my lawyers, Ashley Ford and
Charlene Hodges.”

“Please have a seat in the waiting area. Someone will be
with you shortly.”

We took a seat while the receptionist made a few calls.
Seconds later, we were being escorted to a conference room that looked eerily
the same as the one in the Stone Management office.

“Can I get you ladies some coffee or tea?”

“Coffee,” Charlene answered. “Two creams and four sugars for
each of us.”

As I maneuvered out of my winter outerwear, Ashley and Aunt
Charlene did the same. We were all dressed similarly in black jeans and blazers.
Take no shit expressions adorned our usually smiling faces. Aubrey James is
going to do exactly what I want or I’m about to be as rich as Cash. I will own
this damn magazine.

The receptionist quickly returned with our coffee and exited
the room without any type of pleasantries. When I own this publication, she’s
getting fired too.

“Here’s the deal,” Ashley said while mixing sugar into her
coffee. “Since I’m the only actual lawyer in here, let me do the talking.”

“I didn’t agree to that,” I protested.

“Banana, if you slap this woman in the face, you will go to
jail. Do you want to spend Christmas in Riker’s or would you like to be at Grandma’s?”

“Fine,” I reluctantly agreed even though I know I won’t go
to Riker’s for slapping a liar. Maybe slapping her would get back the thirty
thousand people who unfollowed me on Twitter.

“I actually don’t mind spending Christmas on Riker’s. Your
father’s family is way too judgmental for me,” Aunt Charlene joked. “So, I’ll
slap her if you want me to.”

The three of us were still laughing when the conference room
door opened and Aubrey walked in followed by her immediate editor.

“No,” I said to Jasmine Rogers. “I don’t want you. I asked
to see Matthew.”

“He’s on his way down, Savannah,” Jasmine replied. “We can
talk while we wait.”

Jasmine and I go back farther than Aubrey and me. She was my
high school newspaper editor and after college, we worked together at USA Today
for a minute.

Aubrey doesn’t know me except what everyone knew about me. Her
dislike of me goes beyond regular professional competition. Her dislike of me
stems from the fact that she’ll never be me. She’ll never be taken seriously as
an entertainment journalist because she’s the one looking for her fifteen
minutes of VH-1 fame.

“What are you doing here, Savannah?” Aubrey asked angrily.

“Please don’t talk directly to my client,” Ashley replied in
her cross-examination voice. She looked past Aubrey like she was a peasant and
focused her attention on Aubrey’s boss. I couldn’t keep the snide smirk off my
face. My sister isn’t the best litigator in Harlem for no reason.

“And you are?” Jasmine asked.

Ashley handed her a business card. “Ashley Ford-Houston with
Franklin, Mayer, and Smith.”

The smug smirk and fake smile drained from Aubrey and Jasmine’s
faces as Ashley named her old firm, the leader in civil litigation in the
country. The fact that she doesn’t work there anymore isn’t public knowledge.

“Exactly,” Ashley replied to the look on their faces. “Now
that you realize that we’re not here for the coffee, let’s chat. We want a
retraction of the story that Miss James penned regarding my client on both her
blog and on your website. In its place, we want Miss James to issue an apology
and admit that her sourced information was completely fabricated. We want that
tomorrow.”

“I’m not doing that,” Aubrey argued. “I wrote a solid piece
and my sources weren’t wrong or you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“That’s bullshit!” I shouted. “Who is your source? Olivia
Stone? Your imagination? There is no one close to me or Cash that would ever
say those things about him or me.”

Ashley put her hand on my knee and shook her head at me.

“If we take this to court, Miss James, and I’m sure you
understand this, Ms. Rogers, you will have to name your sources. They will have
to testify to what they told you.”

“What Aubrey wrote was an opinion piece on her personal
website which is in no way associated with this publication,” Jasmine stated.

“But when your national publication uses that opinion piece
as a resource when writing an equally libelous piece for your website, and the
aforementioned website is hosted by NY Front Page servers, your publication
becomes not only associated but responsible for the content that its employees
publish digitally and in print. Your employee’s opinion piece has cost my
client loss of income and pain and suffering. I’m ready to file the suit in
which we’ll be asking for five million in compensatory and punitive damages.”

“Five million will cripple us!”

“Then have her write a five million dollar apology and say
she made the whole thing up because she’s a hatin’ ass bitch who wishes she
could have my man,” I snapped.

“No one is hating on you, Savannah. Just exposing you for
the opportunist that you are.”

“Opportunist?” I scoffed. “You know nothing about me. All
you know is that I scoop you on every story. My website is more popular and I’m
more successful and a better journalist than you’ll ever be. You’re stuck in a
cubicle writing opinion pieces about my life, remember?”

“You are such a bitch,” Aubrey spat.

“Ladies!” a loud male voice boomed from the doorway. “Let’s
not go there with one another. It’s Christmas!”

“Mr. Graham, I presume,” Ashley said as she stood up and
extended her hand and introduced herself. “May we speak in private?”

“Yes, of course.”

The door closed behind my sister and the Editor-in-Chief. I
couldn’t even look at Aubrey. Instead, I checked my phone for messages. I had
an email from Cash. It was the first time he’s reached out since walking out of
the department store. I hadn’t reached out either despite picking up my phone to
call him at least five thousand times.

Hey Savannah,

How are you? I hope all is well. No, no I don’t. I hope
you feel like I feel. Like the world has lost its light and happiness is a
concept that we see in others but manages to slip out of our grasps like a
slippery eel each and every time. Because that’s how I feel. I’ve never felt
like this after a break up. Savannah, you need to know that walking away from
you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. No matter what you said, I shouldn’t
have walked away, not without a fight. I understand why you felt the need to
end something that was so good. I’m not stupid. I never meant for you to be
hurt or talked about or experience anything that didn’t make you smile. I’m
completely responsible for all of this and I’m so sorry. I can’t say it enough
but I owe you as many apologies as you are willing to hear.

I can live with the fact that you don’t want to be with
me anymore. I can’t live with the fact that I’ll never see you laugh again or
that you might hate me. Please say you don’t hate me. I love you. Will always
love you.

Cash

I blinked away the tears and slipped my phone back into my
purse. I glared at Aubrey until she uncomfortably looked away.

“You ruined my life,” I told her. “I was happy with him.
There weren’t any ulterior motives. I was just a girl who met a guy and fell in
love. You ruined that. You wrote that piece because we’re just names to you. Celebrities
are not real to you. You can write and say whatever you want because of that.
You forget that the name belongs to a person. A person with a family and
friends, people who care about them. Cash is a person who has feelings. A man
who is going through an experience that most should treasure. Instead, you
tainted the happiest occasion in his life. He should be relishing in the fact
that he’ll be a dad in a few months. Instead, he has to deal with this
bullshit. Write the damn apology, Aubrey. If not because it’s the right thing
to do, then write it for Cash and Victoria and their child. Or keep being a bitch
and lose your job over this.”

“Hey, hey,” Matthew said as he and Ashley re-entered the
room. “No one is losing their job. Aubrey will write an apology and retraction.”

“What?” Aubrey squawked. “I’ll do what?”

“You’ll write a retraction and apology,” I smiled.

“There’s one more thing I have to ask.” Matthew said. “To
show that there isn’t any bad blood between our publication, you, and Mr.
Myers, we’d love to do an exclusive interview with you both to clear up any
misunderstandings. Of course, the interview will be with Jasmine.”

I couldn’t believe the audacity of this man!

“Hell no!”I shouted angrily. “And I will make sure that Mr.
Myers never does an interview with this publication ever. Just be happy you’re
still in business. Let’s go,” I said to my aunt and sister.

“Tomorrow,” Ashley stated before we walked out the door. “An
honest apology and retraction or we file the suit. Good day.”

“Ashley! Savannah! Get down here and help us with dinner!”
our mother yelled from the bottom of Grandma Julia’s stairs.

I laughed to myself.
Yeah right
.

Christmas Eve and despite being in our grandparents large
home with family and friends coming and going all day, Ashley, Baby Jordan, and
I were locked away in Aunt Charlene’s old room. We were downstairs enjoying the
day with the rest of the family until our cousin Damien entered the house.
Damien, who doesn’t usually come home that often, has been teasing me since the
day I was born. Damien and I used to be really close when he lived in L.A.
People used to think that we were dating until I had to set that record
straight. We aren’t that close anymore because he’s done some things to
previous girlfriends that just don’t sit right with me.