CHAPTER 30
Adrienne
If I was going to stay in L.A., I had to look the part. My plan was to go and beat on every door in Hollywood. Which meant I needed to get my hair done and buy a few things to enhance my wardrobe. I Googled African-American hair salons, and Envoy Salon and Spa came up. I clicked on their web page and it was a beautiful salon, but could they do hair? I didn’t have any money to waste. Then I read a news article on their site that dubbed them the “Stylists to the Stars” and that made my decision easy. I never knew who I could network with under the dryer.
Walking into the salon, I knew I had made the right decision. There were beautiful women waiting to be serviced, and even the stylist’s hair was done to perfection. They were wearing full makeup and heels.
“Do you have any open appointments today?” I asked the receptionist.
“Yes, Chike is taking one more, I think. What are you getting?”
“A wash and curl.”
Chike approached the counter with masculine facial hair and a straight blond bob weave. He had a shape that would make any woman jealous. He looked at his schedule for the rest of the day and said that he would take me.
“Hello, beautiful. I love your color but not them split ends, girl.”
“I know. It’s a mess. That’s why I’m here.”
“Yes, child, just in time, too.” He laughed and turned me over to the shampoo girl. I had my hair washed and blow-dried, and then I sat in his chair.
“You are so pretty. So what do you do? Are you an actress?”
“I’m a script writer.”
“Have you sold anything yet?”
“No, but I’m in the process.”
“Uhm-hum,” he said sarcastically.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I know everyone here is an actress, a model, or a movie director. But I am going to sell my script. I am. But right now, I’m just trying to make it out here.”
“Make it how? Like a job?”
“I guess. Why, do you know someone that is hiring?”
“My other client is looking for a personal assistant. You seem like you would get along with her. Plus she knows a lot of people in the industry. She was just talking about being an actress. I forgot her ex-husband’s name, but you probably heard of him.”
“Really? Do you know how much the salary would be?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested.
“I’m not sure, but I know it would pay really good. I heard her talking about it earlier. I have to say she is a strange woman, but I’m sure someone like you can handle her.”
Chike made me feel like a new woman. He gave my hair a new life with textured curls and he added a few tracks. He called his client who was hiring, and she said to give me her information.
I called Morgan Coleman and she gave me a phone interview. She seemed to be pleasant over the phone, and asked if I could meet up with her that day.
Her house was in the Hollywood Hills; the farther I drove, the farther the city was below and behind me. The GPS declared that I had arrived at my destination in front of a beautiful mansion sitting alone on top of a hill.
I hoped I was hired, because it looked like she could afford to pay me well. I rang the bell and knocked a few times. A teenage girl answered the door.
“May I help you?”
“Yes, I’m here for Morgan Coleman.”
“Mom, your new assistant is here,” she yelled out and told me to come in.
I followed her to a beautiful woman with a head full of black, shoulder-length curls, sitting in a black bikini, soaking up the sun. She sat up and threw a turquoise cover-up over her olive tone skin. I had a seat at a table next to the pool. She offered me a drink. I declined, and she said, “Let me get right to the point. My ex-husband is the comedian RJ Coleman. Do you know him?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you do. We were married for seventeen years, but we’ve been separated for a year and a half. And that bastard already has a baby and is about to marry this little non-English-speaking bitch. But that’s another story. How are you? Can you work the weekends?”
“I’m fine. Yes, I can.”
“So, as I was saying, he left me for a red beans and rice chica.”
Her daughter, who pretended that she wasn’t listening to our conversation, took off her pink Beats by Dre headphones and said, “Mom, she was born here. She can speak English very well. She went to Stanford. And she’s not Spanish, she is Mexican.”
“It’s all the same. No one asked you anything, Alexandria. Don’t disrespect your mother. Okay? Don’t take up for the bilingual bitch that took your father away.”
“I didn’t disrespect you, Mom, but she didn’t take Daddy away. I asked her when they met. She said it was at the Image Awards, and that was after he had moved out.”
Morgan turned her attention back to me, shook her head, and said, “Ungrateful teenagers. I’m the one who was here with them when her father was filming movies all around the world. He hasn’t been to any of her games or report card conferences. He probably doesn’t even know her birthday.”
“That’s because he is working. He does know when my birthday is. He calls me every year at midnight. And his work is the reason we have everything we have. We get to live in this big house and have nice things,” Alexandria shot back.
“I’m the reason you have everything that you have. Not him.”
“You are being angry again, Mom. And we went to counseling. You said it was okay if I had an opinion and you wouldn’t hold it against me.”
She thought about it for a moment. “I did say that, but I also know that your father ain’t shit. If he was something, he would be here with your mother. He hurt me and you want to tell me how great he is. He ain’t shit. He’s nothing.”
“Okay, Mom. He ain’t shit.” Alexandria sighed aloud.
“Don’t cuss in my house.”
“Okay, I won’t cuss if you take your medicine. Please. You’re making my head hurt.”
I felt like I was in the middle of a scene in a movie. Morgan ordered her daughter into the house.
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with her. My last personal assistant quit. He was the third one in three months. He was a little weird. Anyway, I need someone to make my phone calls, schedule my meetings, and remind me to pay my bills. I need someone to practically live with me. Actually, if you could live with me, I could pay you extra. I have a guest house in the back.”
We walked around her sprawling home. Each room was the size of an apartment. It was enough space for several families and their pets. On the mantel, I noticed she still had family and wedding pictures up of her and RJ. I stopped and looked at them. With great pride and a smile she gave me details about each picture. “This is when RJ hosted the BET Awards the first time. That’s us at the Grammys. And of course, that’s the president with us at the annual White House Christmas party.”
“That painting is very nice,” I said, admiring a big, colorful painting on the wall.
“Thank you. I got that in France. I loved it there.”
She gave me a full tour of the house and three hours later, we were talking like old friends. I couldn’t believe I had just met her and I was blessed with this opportunity. I hoped she would hire me.
“I get a very good vibe from you, Adrienne. I think you would make a great assistant. I can pay you a thousand per week. When can you start?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Really? That soon? Great. I’ll show you to where you will be staying.”
In a matter of seventy-two hours, my life had changed. I had a job that paid well, somewhere to live, and I definitely would be able to get my script sold, get Asia back, and who knows what else.
I went back to the hotel, checked out, and gathered all my things and settled in the guesthouse, which was like a small apartment with a private kitchen. I called my mother and told her about my new position.
She didn’t seem pleased. All she could say was, “Adrienne, when will you learn?”