Queen of His Heart by Adrianne Byrd

navigate the L.A. dating scene—”
    â€œHell, I have a few horror stories myself,” Dee Dee chirped.
    Keenan chuckled. “Anyway, at some point she started telling me about Jalila’s YouTube channel that she subscribes to.”
    â€œI take it that Jalila is this star?”
    â€œRight.” He stopped pacing and leaned back against his desk. “So anyway, she—Keisha—was telling me how much she related to Jalila’s vlogs. Of course, you know Keisha, she practically guilt-tripped me into checking out the channel myself. So I did. And I was hooked. She was engaging, charming and—”
    â€œBeautiful,” Nitara filled in. “Yeah. I get the picture.”
    â€œI was about to say funny. Oh, and let’s not forget her dog, Cujo.”
    â€œShe named her dog after a rabid, terrorizing Saint Bernard?”
    â€œWe both love horror movies.” He gave Nitara the thumbs-up.
    But you’re not going to be one of the bachelors , Nitara wanted to say. “So you skipped out of your conference call with ABC this morning to go meet this ‘star’?”
    â€œABC!” Keenan slapped his palm against his forehead. “I forgot.”
    â€œClearly.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I’ll call them.” He walked around his desk. “In fact, I’m going to work a treatment for the show.”
    Nitara watched her business partner, amazed at the change she saw in him. There was something more to this than met the eye.
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    â€œWhat do you mean that you’re going to find a man on television?” James Goodwyn asked, staring at his daughter.
    â€œPlease say that you’re not going on that show Blind Date ,” Jalila’s mother chimed in. “I know Sister Mabel watches that every week. She’s convinced everybody that goes on that show is going straight to hell.”
    â€œNo, Momma. I’m not going on Blind Date .” Jalila laughed and took a bite of her mother’s signature meatloaf. Dinner at her parents’ was a Monday-night tradition. It was the only time Jalila could carve out so they could play catch-up with what was going on in their lives. Her parents weren’t pleased with this latest bit of news.
    â€œWhat exactly are you going to be doing on TV?” her father asked. “Do you keep your clothes on?”
    â€œWhat?” Jalila almost choked. “Of course I’m keeping my clothes on.” Well, she hadn’t exactly run that particular question by Mr. Armstrong. Actually, she had asked him hardly any questions.
    â€œWell, as long as you keep your clothes on,” her father said. “Hey, pass me the cornbread.”
    Jalila reached over and handed him the basket of cornbread muffins.
    â€œWait a minute. Wait a minute,” her mom said. “I have a few more questions. Who all is going to be watching this?”
    Jalila shrugged. “I guess anyone who wants to tune in.”
    â€œWhat channel is it going to be on?”
    â€œI don’t know, Mom.” She laughed. “Far as I know, it’s all in its beginning stages.” That answer only made her mother’s face go sour even more.
    â€œI don’t know if I like this dating-on-TV stuff. How come you can’t find dates the old-fashion way—church or some social dance somewhere?”
    â€œSocial dances are clubs and there’s nothing but losers there. I’ve tried churches and all the good men are already married and the ones that aren’t are looking for a second mother.”
    â€œI still don’t like it.”
    Jalila took her mother’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, Mom. Everything is going to be fine. In fact, I think it might even be fun. Heck, I’ve tried everything else at this point.”
    â€œAs beautiful as you are? I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to get a date.”
    â€œI can get dates,”