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"Now that you have seen me in action, you know that I’m exactly what you need for
the show. I have everything. I’m smart, I’m beautiful, I’m sexy and I’m just fantastic. Did I mention
that I’m beautiful and sexy? I know you’re going to pick me. I’m perfect for the show. I’ll be waiting
for the call.”
“So what do you think?” Jeff Sims asked as he turned off the television set.
“Well
she’s definitely a handful. I’m not sure about her.” Daniel Stein, the producer of MTV’s new reality
show, “The Assistant,” answered. They were viewing tapes of potential finalist.
The show assigns five
wannabe personal assistants to a celebrity and every week, one contestant gets voted off by that celebrity.
Katie,
one of the casting agents disagreed. “I think she’s perfect. She’s hot and she has that Paris Hilton, Nichole
Ritchie vibe going on. She’ll do great for ratings,” she argued.
Daniel leaned in the table towards Katie.
They were sitting across from each other. “But her age is a liability. The girl is just too young.”
“Then
let’s put her with someone safe. She’s seventeen. It’s not a big deal.” Katie really liked this girl.
They’ve seen a lot of fakes, but this girl was real. There were five other people in the room besides Jeff, Daniel and
Katie. This was their sixth day of going through tapes and everyone was giving up. Katie had a feeling about this girl. She
had star quality.
“Who is safe? Who can we place her with?”
“Backstreet.”
“Backstreet?”
Daniel asked a little shocked. “They wouldn’t be able to handle her.”
Katie smiled. “That’s
my point exactly.
~*~*~*~
“No means no Desiree. You’re not going.”
“Please Daddy. It’s only
for a month. I won’t be missing school or anything,” I pleaded with my father. It was actually two months, but
he didn’t need to know that.
The two of us were sitting in the dining room at a table with seating for ten, yet
most nights it was just us.
I, Desiree Marie Taylor, had a chance to go on tour with a celebrity for the summer and
be on TV and my father was denying me this amazing opportunity.
“You are not going and that is final.
I’m not leaving my sixteen year old daughter…” My dad has to be the most uptight, anal black man that I
have ever met.
“I’m seventeen,” I interrupted. That’s really sad. My father doesn’t want
me to grow up. He still thinks that I’m a baby. I’ll always be his baby girl, but I’m a woman now. He needs
to realize that and stop being so strict with me.
“Regardless, I don’t want you around a bunch of celebrities.
They can take advantage of you.”
I wish.
I rolled my grey/blue eyes and leaned back in my chair. “Mom’s
a celebrity. And Aria hangs out with them all the time.” Oops. Bad example.
“Yeah and look at where that
got your sister.”
My big sister Aria was a big partier. Now twenty one, she had been to rehab three times since
she was fifteen, once for drug abuse and the twice for treatment of an eating disorder. She lives with our supermodel turned
actress mother, Lilliana Ambrosio, in LA. But I had been living with my father in Atlanta since our parents divorced ten years
ago. My mom really didn’t want anything to do with us. She’s really into herself. My dad had custody of both me
and Aria, but Aria adored my mom so much that she ended up moving with her.
I love my daddy, Robert Taylor, dearly.
I usually get everything I want from him, but I think I may have trouble convincing him on this one.
“Daddy,
I’m not Ari.” Definitely not. We couldn’t be any different. I’m responsible, well I try or at least
I am now, and she is not. Sometimes I feel like I have to make up for all the mistakes she has made. I love my sister, but
sometimes I don’t like her very much.
Dad reached out and held my hand on the table. “I know you’re
not Sweetpea.”
Okay, time to pull out the big guns. Puppy eyes and pouty lip. “Then maybe you shouldn’t
treat me like I’m her.” I pulled my hand out from under his, pushed back my chair and ran up to my room. That
should work. I’ll give him ten minutes.
I can’t believe it. I’m gonna be on TV and I’m gonna
hang out with famous people. I can’t wait to find out who it is.
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