Games Divas Play (A Diva Mystery Novel) by Angela Burt-Murray

Author:Angela Burt-Murray [Burt-Murray, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2014-07-29T04:00:00+00:00

Brixton Marshall was the celebrity stylist that Glam Network had hired to pull dresses, shoes, and accessories for tomorrow’s Black Enterprise photo shoot with Miki, as well as for all the All-Star events, including my big launch party at the end of the week. He had just completed his run-through with me, and as I closed the door of my hotel suite behind him and his team, I was relieved to be done with my eighth appointment of the day.

I walked past the two racks of designer dresses in sequins, feathers, leather, and silk in every imaginable color that Brixton had wheeled into the room just hours earlier. I had given him two requirements for all clothing: tight and tiny. Very simple. Luckily, he had brought his seamstress with him, as most of the dresses were too long for my tastes. I wasn’t some old lady, and my sexy-ass thighs that made men from coast to coast salivate were made to be seen and photographed, so we were definitely not selecting any dresses that would cover them up. I hit the Pilates studio at least three times a week, and they were ready for their close-ups.

Admittedly it had been fun playing dress up as I slipped in and out of fabulous party dresses from Dolce & Gabbana, Stella McCartney, Marchesa, and Hervé Léger for the first hour and a half, but I was worn out. I would have loved to take a nap before dinner at Crustacean in Beverly Hills with Shelly Jennings, the reporter from Black Enterprise.

It was only Wednesday, but I was already exhausted. I was up at the crack of dawn yawning with the hair and makeup team by seven and in the chauffeured Lincoln Navigator by eight to head to the first appointments. All day there were interviews, appearances, and branding meetings. I felt like my smile was plastered on my face. But a hustler never sleeps. Just ask Kim Kardashian.

I changed into some denim cutoff shorts and a white tank top, and put my long hair up into a ponytail to get comfortable for a few hours. Walking over to the coffee table in the living room, I pulled a bottle of red wine out of the huge gift basket stuffed with fruits, cheese, crackers, and cookies that Black Enterprise had sent to my suite. I poured myself a glass and went out onto the balcony to enjoy the view. As I leaned my hip up against the railing and took a sip of wine, I could see a red Lamborghini pull up to the valet stand. I wondered if it was Chris Rock or Charlie Sheen, both of whom I had scoped out in the dimly lit lobby earlier as they were taking meetings. As I leaned over the rail to get a closer look at who was getting out of the car, I made a mental note to invite him to the party as well. The driver, a very tall black man dressed

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