I Know I've Been Changed by Reshonda Tate Billingsley Page A

“Sorry, you’ll just have to ask someone else.”
    Simone managed a smile. “I understand. I just thought I’d ask.” She turned to leave.
    I thought about it, then stopped her just as she reached the door. Maybe I needed to see what she had. “Simone, give me the tape. I can make time. I’ll do all I can to help another sister out.” I gave her a phony smile.
    Simone quickly turned around, beaming with excitement. “Oh, thank you so much! I really appreciate this.” She handed me the small Beta tape. “I won’t harass you about it, just whenever you get a chance to look at it would be good.”
    “Umm-hmmm. I’ll get around to it.” I threw the tape down on my desk, then turned back to my computer, acting as if I were engrossed in my screen.
    “Thank you, Rae. And I am thick-skinned. So I can take an honest assessment.”
    I waved her off. Believe me, I was going to be honest. The girl had to learn the hard way that this was a cutthroat business. If down the line she ever hoped to compete with someone of my caliber, she would have to be able to endure the hard times.
    I glanced over my shoulder, making sure she was gone, then I got up, walked over, and closed my door. I grabbed the tape off my desk and popped it in the outdated Beta machine in the corner of my office. I pulled up a chair, sat down, and pressed play.
    “Knock, knock.”
    Shereen’s voice startled me. She walked in, shutting the door behind her. I glared at her. “Most people knock, then wait for an answer before they come in.”
    “I’m not most people. Whatcha doing?”
    I grinned. “I’m about to watch Simone’s audition tape. You in for a good laugh?”
    Shereen pulled up a chair next to me. “I’m always down for a good laugh. I didn’t know Simone wanted to be on air.”
    “Don’t they all? The tape just started.” We turned our attention back to the TV. I turned up the volume. Simone was already in the middle of her first story. It was about the police department being under fire for shoddy procedures at the DNA lab. She did a stand-up—the part of the story where you see her walking and talking to tell us something about the story—and in this case, showing how a leak in the roof had allowed rain to drop on critical DNA evidence. I remember seeing the story on air. She had actually told my boss about it, but because she was just a production assistant, they gave the story to another reporter to do. I guess she put a story together herself for her tape.
    The next two stories were also rehashes of stories that had aired on our news. But they were actually written better than the ones that had aired.
    I stopped the tape before her last story could finish.
    “Damn,” Shereen said, looking at me with her mouth open. “That heifer is good.”
    I got up and turned the TV off. “She’s all right.”
    “All right? Man, she’s better than half the reporters we have on air right now. I’m in awe.” Shereen was shaking her head.
    “She wasn’t that good. Did you see the way her hair looked on that first report? She really needs to see a stylist to do something about those split ends.”
    Shereen laughed. “All you can find negative to talk about is how she looks? Come on, you know those stories were da bomb.”
    “Shereen, nobody says da bomb anymore.”
    “I do. Anyway, it’s just a matter of time before someone snatches her up and puts her on air. I wouldn’t be surprised if she got a job in a nice-sized city real soon.”
    “Please. She needs to take her little tail to Victoria, Texas, and pay some dues like the rest of us.”
    Shereen’s smile faded. She got up, then walked over to my desk, plopping down in the chair in front of it. “Can I ask you something? Truthfully, why do you treat her so bad? She’s a really nice girl.”
    I rolled my eyes. I didn’t feel like getting into this with Shereen, but she was the type that wouldn’t let up, so I decided to go ahead and be real. “Look, I know her type.