them?"
"I said, are you guys gay? And they both looked at me and said, hell no!"
"Bullshit. If you're kissing on another man and slapping his ass, you're gay," Angela said. "What happened next?"
"I did what any sister in her right mind would do. I left. I went downstairs, had the doorman hail me a cab so that I could go home. I must've brushed my teeth and tongue for a full hour once I got in the house. Then I got pissed off. I mean, how dare that motherfucker bring me to his bitch's house! I mean, honestly, what kind of shit was that?"
"I don't know, but damn! Silky is on the down low. This would make a great topic for my show, Love, Lies and Scandal, if Bobbi ever calls back. Celebrities with secret love lives."
"What are you rambling on about?" Regina asked.
"I submitted a proposal to someone for a reality show called, Love, Lies and Scandal. Do you think you could put me in touch with Silky's lover? Perhaps if I can convince him to let me do an interview it would--"
"Now, you've pissed me off, Angela," Regina snapped angrily.
"I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean to sound so insensitive. I'm sorry that you went through that."
"I am, too. Anyway, I'll talk to you later." Regina sounded hurt.
"Don't be mad at me. I just got caught up in the sensationalism of your story."
"I'm tired of talking about this. I'll talk to you later," Regina said and hung up the phone.
"Shit," Angela hissed. She knew that she'd inadvertently trampled on Regina's feelings. She made a mental note to herself to send flowers to her friend's office in the morning as a peace offering. She knew that Regina's wound was still raw, but with time she'd be okay.
Angela looked at her watch and realized that if she didn't get a move on she'd be late for her meeting. She gathered up her belongings and headed toward the conference room where she'd be giving her speech to high-school students interested in careers in journalism.
CHAPTER 7
J O A NN
O ver two days, JoAnn had traveled between three hotel casinos: the Bellagio Hotel, Caesar's Palace and the MGM Grand Hotel. At each hotel and at every gambling table, JoAnn suffered heavy losses because she couldn't bring herself to stop.
JoAnn lost three thousand dollars playing blackjack at the Bellagio. She suffered another three-thousand-dollar loss at Caesar's Palace playing poker. She lost an additional fifteen hundred dollars playing roulette and four hundred and fifty dollars at the slot machines at the MGM Grand Hotel.
JoAnn was now sitting in front of a slot machine, hoping her luck would change and she'd win big. She decided to play three slot machines at the same time. She wasn't about to allow someone on either side of her sit down, pull the handle once and win.
In a short amount of time, JoAnn gambled away the last of the money she'd taken from the safe. She closed her eyes and dropped her chin into her chest. Hastily, she brushed the tips of her fingers across her eyelids several times to smear away the tears that threatened to fall.
JoAnn held her head up and took in a few deep breaths. "My hand was itching," she said to herself. "And whenever the palms of my hands itch or tingle, I know that it means I'm about to hit it big. It's a sign. That has always been my intuitive signal which lets me know that money would be coming my way." JoAnn felt a massive migraine building. She gathered up her belongings and stepped away from the slot machine. She slowly wandered to the end of the slot-machine aisle, dreading having to go up to her hotel room. She stopped when she heard a loud ringing coming from one of the slot machines behind her. She spun around and noticed that a woman had sat down at one of the machines she had been playing and had just hit it big.
"No, no, no!" JoAnn hustled back toward the woman who was screaming for one of her girlfriends to rush over to her.
"That's my money," JoAnn shouted out above the noise. "That's my machine and that's my money!" she
"I said, are you guys gay? And they both looked at me and said, hell no!"
"Bullshit. If you're kissing on another man and slapping his ass, you're gay," Angela said. "What happened next?"
"I did what any sister in her right mind would do. I left. I went downstairs, had the doorman hail me a cab so that I could go home. I must've brushed my teeth and tongue for a full hour once I got in the house. Then I got pissed off. I mean, how dare that motherfucker bring me to his bitch's house! I mean, honestly, what kind of shit was that?"
"I don't know, but damn! Silky is on the down low. This would make a great topic for my show, Love, Lies and Scandal, if Bobbi ever calls back. Celebrities with secret love lives."
"What are you rambling on about?" Regina asked.
"I submitted a proposal to someone for a reality show called, Love, Lies and Scandal. Do you think you could put me in touch with Silky's lover? Perhaps if I can convince him to let me do an interview it would--"
"Now, you've pissed me off, Angela," Regina snapped angrily.
"I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean to sound so insensitive. I'm sorry that you went through that."
"I am, too. Anyway, I'll talk to you later." Regina sounded hurt.
"Don't be mad at me. I just got caught up in the sensationalism of your story."
"I'm tired of talking about this. I'll talk to you later," Regina said and hung up the phone.
"Shit," Angela hissed. She knew that she'd inadvertently trampled on Regina's feelings. She made a mental note to herself to send flowers to her friend's office in the morning as a peace offering. She knew that Regina's wound was still raw, but with time she'd be okay.
Angela looked at her watch and realized that if she didn't get a move on she'd be late for her meeting. She gathered up her belongings and headed toward the conference room where she'd be giving her speech to high-school students interested in careers in journalism.
CHAPTER 7
J O A NN
O ver two days, JoAnn had traveled between three hotel casinos: the Bellagio Hotel, Caesar's Palace and the MGM Grand Hotel. At each hotel and at every gambling table, JoAnn suffered heavy losses because she couldn't bring herself to stop.
JoAnn lost three thousand dollars playing blackjack at the Bellagio. She suffered another three-thousand-dollar loss at Caesar's Palace playing poker. She lost an additional fifteen hundred dollars playing roulette and four hundred and fifty dollars at the slot machines at the MGM Grand Hotel.
JoAnn was now sitting in front of a slot machine, hoping her luck would change and she'd win big. She decided to play three slot machines at the same time. She wasn't about to allow someone on either side of her sit down, pull the handle once and win.
In a short amount of time, JoAnn gambled away the last of the money she'd taken from the safe. She closed her eyes and dropped her chin into her chest. Hastily, she brushed the tips of her fingers across her eyelids several times to smear away the tears that threatened to fall.
JoAnn held her head up and took in a few deep breaths. "My hand was itching," she said to herself. "And whenever the palms of my hands itch or tingle, I know that it means I'm about to hit it big. It's a sign. That has always been my intuitive signal which lets me know that money would be coming my way." JoAnn felt a massive migraine building. She gathered up her belongings and stepped away from the slot machine. She slowly wandered to the end of the slot-machine aisle, dreading having to go up to her hotel room. She stopped when she heard a loud ringing coming from one of the slot machines behind her. She spun around and noticed that a woman had sat down at one of the machines she had been playing and had just hit it big.
"No, no, no!" JoAnn hustled back toward the woman who was screaming for one of her girlfriends to rush over to her.
"That's my money," JoAnn shouted out above the noise. "That's my machine and that's my money!" she
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