Rich or Famous...Rich Because You Can Buy Fame by Deja King Page B

For one I was getting a pedicure that I couldn’t afford and two I didn’t recognize the number and I regretted even taking the call.
“Is this Dior?”
“Who wants to know?”
    “This Quinton from King Magazine.” I bit down on my bottom lip trying to gain my composure.
    “Hey Quinton, what’s up?” I asked trying to sound real non-pressed.
    “Lorenzo gave me your number so we could connect on this magazine shoot.”
“What shoot?”
“For the cover. Lorenzo didn’t tell you?”
    “Oh that’s right. I’ve been so busy lately I almost forgot.”
    “I understand but do you think we can do this tomorrow?”
    “Tomorrow coming up?”
    “Yeah, I don’t know another tomorrow. I know it’s short notice but we want you for the issue coming up and we real real behind. We need to go to print like yesterday. It’s my fault. I was supposed to get in touch with you a few weeks ago but I got caught up in some other things then I misplaced your number and had to call Lorenzo to get it again. So you think you can come through?”
    “I guess I can make it happen,” I said like my calendar was full when I didn’t have shit on it.
    “Cool, that’s what’s up. I’ma text you with the time and location information. I appreciate you doing this on such short notice.”
    “No problem.”
    “So I’ll see you tomorrow but if you have any problems you can hit me back on this number, it’s my cell.”
    “Will do, thanks.” When I hung up the phone I wanted to jump up and do a fucking happy dance. I couldn’t believe Lorenzo had really come through. I hadn’t been able to get him on the phone in weeks and I was cussing his ass out every day. Now I felt kinda bad so I called him to let him know how grateful I was that he delivered. But when I dialed his number the shit rang like always and then went to voicemail. I just hung up.
    I was not comprehending how a nigga could hook up some major shit for you but then ignore your ass like he didn’t want to be bothered. Trying to figure out this mutherfuckin’ shit was driving me crazy. I mean everybody had a motive for doing something but it was like whatever Lorenzo’s was didn’t include him talking to me. But I refused to let not being able to get him on the phone ruin my high.
    I was about to call Brittani and share my news but scratched that. I was going to stick to the original plan. She would see the shit when it came out like everybody which would be soon. I was so damn happy I had been so broke because that meant I couldn’t eat good. With no time to starve myself for the shoot I had already being doing that out of necessity. So tomorrow I would be cover girl ready without even trying.
     
    When I hit the location early the next morning I was ready for them to get me prepared for my close-up. I sat in the chair and let the makeup artist beat my face until you couldn’t see a trace of a blemish. They had a bitch looking so damn polished I wanted to fuck myself.
    “For the cover shot we want you to wear the same bra and panty set you wore on Phenomenon’s video, since you know that’s what put you on everybody’s radar,” the stylist informed me when she walked up.
    “That’s cool with me. Did they give it to you?”
    “Oh yeah! That was the concept we always planned to go with so we requested it from the stylist that worked on the video weeks ago. The headline on the cover is going to be, ‘Meet The New Phenomenon’ you know a play on words but also incorporating the video.”
    “Whatever you wanna do, I’m ready.”
    “Great, we’ll see you on the set in a few.”
    I was getting anxious waiting for the makeup artist to make his final touches. “What is your name? Because you are fierce with a brush.”
    “Cornelius aka Black Glamour.”
    “You have to make sure you give me your number before I leave. When I blow up I want you to be my personal makeup artist.”
    “No problem, doll,” he said handing me his business card. I gladly took it and