Ritz Harper Goes to Hollywood! by Wendy Williams & Zondra Hughes

Author:Wendy Williams & Zondra Hughes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2009-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

17

Playing the Game

Chas’s parting advice, “Play the game,” bounced around in Ritz’s head. But if this was the kind of game she thought it might be, it was the one game she had promised herself that she would never play. Ritz’s heart was pounding. Trickery was one thing, tricking off was another.

With Chas gone, Ian was ready to unleash his full agenda. Ritz looked spent. And she was. What had she got herself into? Here she was chasing dreams in California and risking her career back at home. A change of venue was good, but would she always double over in fear at the sight of a speeding vehicle? If so, the tabloids would have a field day with her.

Not that she had to worry about tabloids.

What bothered Ritz more than anything about L.A. was that no one, not the staff at the hotel, not at the spa, not passersby, no one, recognized her—and she was a star on the East Coast, and in thirty other states! And now she was sitting in a strange man’s home hoping to get a crack at her television show just because she was black? Ritz Harper had been reduced to playing the race card from the bottom of the deck.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Ian chided. “Tell me what’s on that mind of yours.”

“I want to know if you can really help me,” she spoke clearly. “Something tells me that I am going to give up much more than I get tonight.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “I make the deals happen—but for a price that very few are willing to pay. Look at my Wall of Fame. Those are the women who have sat in the same seat you’re sitting in now. Ritz, that is my prized collection. Most people see autographs, I see souls. I have keen memories of each smile. Recognize any of them?”

Of course she did. Ritz’s mouth nearly crashed through the floor as she scanned the photo wall of black and brown celebrities, each with glistening white smiles and flawless airbrushed skin. Each autograph displayed a scribbled message of gratitude. She wanted to add her photo to the wall. But what would it take?

“So Rutger tells me that you want to host your own talk show,” Ian said. “What can you add to the body of talk show entertainment?”

Ritz imagined that she was back in the studio behind the mic. In control. In command.

“I don’t know if we, my demographic, can rely on what’s out there to tell our stories. Some hosts are female or have brown faces, but they are giving us their limited life experiences. I’d like to see someone focus on our progressive, multicultural, hip-hop-meets-high-society stories. So far, no one is doing that.”

“Great concept, but you’re the wrong person to see it through,” he said dismissively.

“What?” Ritz fumed. “How is that?”

“For one, you can promote multicultural all you want, but everything about you, from your European weave to your French manicure, screams that you want to assimilate into my culture, not celebrate your own.

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