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1
"Cyndi, let's go over the articles I need to assign," I said. I was in my office with my executive assistant, Cyndi Jones. I met her when I gave a speech at the Howard University School of Communications, and I hired her immediately after she graduated because she was ambitious and aggressive. It seemed like every other week I was getting an update on articles Cyndi had written for the Howard University newspaper. She's been with me for more than three years now.
"The Halle Berry and Yancey B. stories have been given to Kirsten Dawson. I'll make sure we have the signed contracts. The only one that hasn't been assigned is 'Divas return to the Great White Way,'" Cyndi said.
"Refresh my memory. Who are we featuring?"
"Vanessa L. Williams and Sheryl Lee Ralph," Cyndi said.
"Are they in the same show?"
"No. Sheryl is in a new musical, Millie sumthin', and Vanessa is in a revival of the musical Into the Woods."
"Now, Cyndi, I know the show isn't called Millie sumthin'--make sure you have the correct title before we talk to writers about a story," I said. "You know I hate stuff like that."
"I'm sorry. I'll be sure to do that. Do you have any writers in mind?"
"Maybe we should go with a guy. See who's available. By the way, how are things coming with the Sexiest Brothaman Alive contest?"
"The contest is coming along great. We've gotten some fantasticsubmissions. I'll investigate and get back with you. Don't forget your breakfast meeting in the morning," Cyndi said as she stood up. She was wearing a black semitransparent silk blouse that truly wasn't appropriate for the office. I started to say something, but the last time I spoke to Cyndi about her wardrobe she got a little sensitive. I realized she was young and she didn't know quite how to dress in a corporate environment. I had even taken her on a couple shopping trips, but she always seemed to be drawn to the tight and the transparent. Every Wednesday, Cyndi would use her lunch break to go to Century 21 and somehow always managed to find the tacky items left from the previous week. I was just praying that Davis didn't come down to the office today, because he wouldn't be able to bite his tongue. He'd tell me to send Cyndi home to change posthaste.
"Cyndi, who am I eating with tomorrow morning?"
"Eunice, the ad manager, and the guy who handles all the national advertising for Wal-Mart," Cyndi said.
"Oh yes. Eunice has been trying to land that account for months. I need to make a mental note to wear my red power suit," I said.
"You look fierce in that suit," Cyndi said as she walked out.
I was looking over the agenda for the weekly staff meeting when Cyndi walked back into the office carrying a vase of white orchids and said my mother was on the phone. "Thanks, Cyndi," I said as I picked up. I smiled to myself, thinking that after three years Davis still remembered to send me a token of his affection once a week. I loved flowers almost as much as the aqua-colored boxes from Tiffany's.
"Zola, did I catch you at a bad time?"
"No, Mother. You know I always make time for you. What's going on?"
"I hate to bother you, but I just didn't know who to call," Mother said.
I knew from the sound of her voice that she was calling with bad news and had a...
