Every Woman's Got a Secret

1 City of Angels May 2006 Caroline Y. Issacs Backing out the driveway of my sweetie Julius's Malibu bungalow, I was already reminiscing about what a hot night we'd had. Had I not had a full day ahead of me, I'd have gone back inside for more. I pushed the button to slide back my convertible roof and I pulled out of the gates of Tara West. The condos and the beautiful landscaping were surrounded by palm trees and bordered by the Pacific Ocean. Now safe on the street, I dialed my parents, who'd been on vacation in Thailand. I'd had minimum contact with them while they were gone, so I was eager to know they'd made it home safely. "Hello?" My mother's sleepy voice answered the ringing phone. "Mom, hey, you're home. When did you get in?" I asked, turning the corner onto Greenwater Lane. "Late last night. We're still in bed. Where are you, honey?" my mother asked in between yawns. "On my way to the studio." "Why don't I call you later when we're both up? I have lots to tell you. We brought you back some beautiful things." Just then Mary J. started belting from my speakers. I reduced the volume and said, "All right, Mom. I love you." "I love you too, sweetheart. See you soon." It had been six months since I'd seen my parents, so I was about due. I usually went to visit them in Philly, and at other times my brother Maurice and I would join them wherever they were vacationing, but Thailand was a little more than I could handle. All those bugs and the rain -- I'm too spoiled for that kind of adventure. No sooner had I hung up the phone than it rang again. "Kia, hey, what's up? Are we still doing lunch?" I asked my best friend. "Yeah, but I can't be too long. I have a photo shoot at two-thirty and you know how your ass likes to stop and talk to everybody you know." Kia may have been unmanageable as hell when it came to money, but she had me beat when it came to time management on any day. "Are you saying I can't stick to a two-hour lunch?" "Please...you always need longer than that to finish a meal. I'll meet you at the Ivy at one o'clock." "Cool. I'll see you there." Kia and I had been friends since I moved out to LA five years ago, when we'd both been living at the Four Seasons. Both of us had been far away from home, me loving it and Kia in tears every night, as she'd never been too far from her family in West Virginia. The furthest she'd been was New York, where she'd begun modeling, but since acting was her goal she'd moved out to LA and was now bicoastal. So here we were both caught up in the glamorous world of Hollywood, Kia as a high-fashion model and me as a veejay for VMT. But it was no wonder how we'd remained friends. We'd both learned early on that the only way female friendships survived in Hollywood was by maintaining a no compete clause. My goal was to have my own talk show -- and yes, my idol was Oprah. For Kia, well, her goal was to one day slip into Halle Berry's shoes. Driving along the scenic Pacific Coast Highway, I was glad my days started late because I'd never been one for early mornings. I usually tried to get into work by 10:00 a.m. and out of there when my show ended at 7:00 p.m. I switched the CD from Mary and opted for the radio, my ears craving some variety, but it was more of the same. All the deejays did was play the same tunes and talk the same trash every day, making me glad my short career path had led me to TV instead of radio. At least being a music television veejay gave me the opportunity to not only be seen but to be up close and personal with my audience. Forty-five minutes later I was pulling up to the circular five-story Lowery Building, where I hostedTop of Da Charts, an urban music video show. "What's up, Linney?" the parking attendant said, greeting me as I drove over the speed bump past his booth. "Freddie, what's itThomas, Brenda L. is the author of 'Every Woman's Got a Secret ', published 2007 under ISBN 9781416550952 and ISBN 141655095X.