Read Online Boss Lady by Omar Tyree - Free Book Online

L.A.’s rush-hour traffic while trying to make it to West Hollywood Hills, where Susan’s uncle had lived with his wife, maids, and caretakers. I didn’t know exactly where it was, but I couldn’t seem to stay awake for the ride. We were not getting anywhere fast with L.A. traffic jammed up anyway. Los Angeles was a real headache to get around.
    Tracy didn’t have much to say for the first part of the drive. She was keeping her calm. What else could you do when a family member of a friend dies? My cousin had to keep her poise for when we arrived at the house.
    Out of the blue, she said, “He liked Flyy Girl, too. Once he got a chance to read it, he called it a naturalist’s book, unapologetic and without political agendas. He said it flowed exactly the way it was supposed to. So the people who got it, got it, and the people who didn’t, shame on them.”
    I opened my eyes for a minute to see what Tracy looked like when she told me that. She had a slight smile on her face.
    At that point, I didn’t want to rub anything in on her. I had already stated my piece and had started thinking about my own ideas. So I decided just to listen for a change.
    She said, “He told me that every movie you do should be a dream movie. He said to write every film like it’s your last . . . because the inspiration of your people is at stake.”
    Man, I was just itching to say something about Flyy Girl then, but I didn’t. I was going to see if Tracy would put together the ironies for herself.
    â€œYou have to believe that you can make a difference,” she commented.
    She seemed energized by the memories. She was remembering all the important things that Susan’s uncle had told her.
    â€œWhat are you gonna do with your opportunity?” she asked rhetorically. “You have to live your life with passion, because to live life without passion is like not living life at all.
    â€œAnd those who create for the love of the art are consistently getting better, but those who create for the love of money . . . those guys are forever getting worse.”
    I finally smiled and said, “That’s where you got the title of your sequel book from.”
    Tracy looked at me as if I should have known that already.
    She said, “You heard me say that before. You have read the book, right?”
    I grinned. I did know it already, but her saying it was a fresh reminder.
    I said, “Of course I read it. I was there when you two were putting it together. I just hadn’t heard you talk about the things that Edward Weisner told you lately, that’s all.”
    She nodded and said, “He made a lot of good points. He was the one who inspired me to do such a good job with writing Led Astray.”
    â€œAnd what about now?” I asked her. It was my sly way of continuing to bug her about writing a great script for Flyy Girl.
    Tracy didn’t look me in my eyes when she said it, but I know she felt me.
    She said, “I know what you’re getting at, Vanessa. And we’ll just have to wait and see.”
    *  *  *
    We arrived at the Weisner house, which was in the side of the mountain behind the hills of Hollywood. No way in the world would I live on a mountainside like that, especially with earthquakes reported in the California region. I was nervous about just being there.
    There were plenty of cars parked in the driveway and in front of the garage, so we had to stop and park on the street.
    â€œHow many times have you been out here?” I asked Tracy.
    â€œOnly a few times. It’s not like this was a hangout or anything,” she answered as we walked to the front door.
    After we rang the bell, an older Mexican woman answered the door.
    â€œOh, Tracy, how are you doing?” she said and hugged my cousin.
    â€œHow are you, Mrs. Sanchez?”
    â€œMaria,” she fussed at my cousin. Then she looked at me.
    â€œAnd who is