made her watch an instructional DVD to teach her the nuances of BDSM. Ayana had resisted at first, but Benjamin had insisted. He’d said it was the ultimate thrill to have her beat him. But he’d backpedaled in court, playing the victim. He’d even produced pictures of bruises on his back.
In addition to the accusations of sexual abuse, Benjamin had accused Ayana of spousal abandonment, saying that she spent months in Jamaica. On the stand, Ayana did admit to visiting her parents. However, it was Benjamin who’d insisted that she extend her stay, saying that since they didn’t have children, there was no need for her to rush back home to New York.
His team of highly paid attorneys had earned every dime of their retainer, working overtime to paint a negative picture of Ayana. Her attorney had presented her case, stating to the court that Benjamin willingly withheld funds from her, making her practically lead a destitute life, except for the times when they were out together. Her case was weak in comparison to Benjamin’s. And as the weeks had dragged on, Ayana became worn out. With her funds dwindling and her emotional state deteriorating, Ayana had agreed to settle. Initially, she had been seeking half of the money he’d made while they were together but then realized that Benjamin was willing to fight dirty in order to keep from paying Ayana her share. To put an end to the spectacle and move on with her life, she’d settled for a fraction of the estate, signed the divorce papers and never looked back. Although the proceedings had been emotionally draining, one good thing had come out of the ordeal—a job.
Little did Ayana know that tracking her divorce proceedings was show creator Ed Levine, who had struck gold with his string of reality TV shows. He had been looking to staff Divorced Divas, his latest undertaking about divorced women of millionaires seeking a second chance at love. He had seen Ayana on the news and in the papers and had become taken with her. Ayana was tall, attractive, stylish and well-spoken—all the ingredients of a television star. He’d contacted her attorney and set up a meeting.
However, Ayana had had no interest in exposing her life on camera. Being in the media during the divorce was enough, so she’d turned down the meeting. Ayana’s post-divorce plan was to reenter corporate America. The only problem was her limited experience. Her last job had been as Benjamin’s administrative assistant. She’d dusted off her résumé, made calls and tried to set up interviews to no avail. Her skill set wasn’t the problem; being the former Mrs. Benjamin Lewis was. Apparently, he had put the word out and blacklisted her.
In need of an income, Ayana had asked her attorney to contact the producers. Their initial meeting had gone well, except for one glitch. Ed had wanted Ayana to play the role of the good girl, but he had filled that role after she had turned him down. The only slot left to fill was that of the “diva.” Ayana had been reluctant but was in dire straits and needed money badly, so she’d accepted the role along with the stage name. A year later, Saturday Knight was a household name. Luckily, the show wasn’t broadcasted in Jamaica. Ayana couldn’t stand the thought of her family knowing that she degraded herself on camera for a living. She hated her job but was determined to make it work. Ayana read about reality stars branding themselves, launching clothing, perfume and cosmetics lines and even going on to costar in prime-time network series and movies. Some of them were making millions, and that was exactly what she planned to do.
* * *
“So are you well rested and ready for another season of Divorced Divas?” Reese asked as they drove along the FDR.
“I am rested, but the thought of another unnecessary catfight makes my stomach churn.”
“Girl, what’s up with that? Why do people love to see grown women acting like teenagers, fighting and yelling at each other?”
Ayana hunched her shoulders. “Wish I knew. Seems the more controversy on the show, the higher the ratings.”
“Does the creator of the show even know your true personality? You’re the nicest person anyone could ever meet.”
“Yeah, he knows, but for Ed, it’s all about ratings.”
“Then have a meeting and ask him to change your role so that the viewers can see who you really are.”
“Last season, a director made some show suggestions and he was fired.”
“I thought reality television was all about depicting people in their true form.”
“Reese, the reality is that reality television is a money-making machine. The creators of these shows will go to any length to ensure ratings, even if they have to fudge the truth and stage scenes.”
“What an oxymoron.”
“That’s an understatement. After losing nearly everything in the divorce, my focus is on building a solid financial future so that I won’t have to rely on a man ever again.”
“You may not need a man for money, but what about for sex?”
“Girl, sex is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“When was the last time you had any?”
“Any what?”
“Stop playing. You know what I mean.”
“I haven’t had sex in months.”
“I couldn’t go a week without Joey.”
“Well, consider yourself one of the lucky ones. You and Joey have a happy, healthy relationship.” Reese and her husband, Joey, had met in the Diamond District.
“Yes, we do, but it didn’t happen overnight. In the beginning Joey traveled to South Africa a lot on business, and the distance was hard on our relationship. It’s taken years for us to get to a good place. One day you’ll find your Mr. Right. What about Moses Michaels? You two went out a few times. Maybe he’s the one. He sure is one good-looking man.”
“No, he’s not the one for me. I can’t handle the ladies’-man type. The problem is he’s too good-looking. Women throw themselves at him all the time, and he loves the attention. He told me in no uncertain terms that he was only interested in sex—not a relationship.”
“He said that?” Reese asked, astounded.
“Yep, he sure did.”
“Well...maybe you should have at least tried him on for size. He looks like he’d be a good lover.”
Ayana lightly pushed Reese on the shoulder. “Ohhh, I can’t believe you’re saying that!”
“Why?” She smiled sheepishly.
“Because you are happily married to Joey, that’s why.”
“I’m married, not dead, and you would have to be dead not to notice Moses Michaels.”
“Guess you have a point, and I was soooo tempted to take him up on his offer. I just didn’t want to become another one of his many conquests.”
“I understand that, but did you at least kiss the man?”
“Yes, we kissed.”
“So was he a good kisser?”
“Aren’t you the nosy one?”
“Well...curious minds want to know.”
“Yes, he’s a great kisser. Are you satisfied? Now can we change the subject, please?”
“Okay, okay. Forget about the players of the world. Plenty of men out there want a committed relationship. What about that guy from Switzerland who was on the show?”
“You mean Erick?”
“Yes, that’s him. From the episodes I watched, you two appeared to have mad chemistry.”
“We did. The producers sent us on several romantic dates and we were getting along really well until he had to go back to Switzerland and take care of some issues regarding his work papers to stay in the U.S.”
“That’s too bad. Don’t worry. You’ll find Mr. Right,” Reese reiterated.