CROSSROADS

2

Taraji stood in front of the tall skyscraper. She finally knew what Dorothy felt like when she opened her door to find out she wasn't in Kansas anymore. Taraji felt like the country mouse in the big city. Whenever she'd traveled before, it was with a group of teammates.
This time she was alone and completely clueless. She was amazed she made it out of JFK, triple amazed that she reached her destination without getting lost.

Taraji took a deep breath and walked through the large glass doors. She had never been in such an elegantly designed building. The marble floors were so clean, they gave off a shimmer. Taraji walked over to the information desk behind which was seated an older gray-haired woman.
"How may I help you?"

"Umm, I'm looking for the Miller-Lewis Agency." The woman gave Taraji an awkward glare. "My goodness, where are you from? Texas? Mississippi? I haven't heard an accent that deep in my life. You gotta be Southern."
Taraji smiled. She wasn't sure if it was a compliment or an insult. "I'm from Florida, actually."
"Oh, Florida. Ever been to Lakeland?" The woman's bright aqua eyes popped open.
"No, I haven't. Well, I've passed by it a million times, just never took the tour."
"Oh." The woman's excitement level disappeared.
"Oh well, I'm sure it's nice. You want the twenty seventh floor."
"Thank you."
The woman smiled again. "You have to love that Southern hospitality. No one ever says thank you anymore. You are welcome."

Taraji smiled and walked off. She dropped her duffle bag on the elevator floor. She watched as the lights ticked off the numbers of each floor. She suddenly felt nervous. Her heart began to race. Taraji studied her reflection on the mirrored walls. Strands of her hair were flying from her ponytail. She removed the holder and smoothed her long hair before tightening it again.

The elevator door opened right into the agency. Taraji stood frozen in her spot. She was expecting to walk through a door; that way she, could take a moment to exhale.
"Are you coming in?" the receptionist behind the glass desk in front of the opened elevator doors asked while giving Taraji an awkward look.
"Yes, I am," Taraji said as she got off just as the doors were closing. She walked up to the desk.

The blonde was attractive, and she knew it. If her clothes weren't expensive, then she really knew how to bargain shop. Her hair was cut perfectly in a Victoria Beckham signature bob. The receptionist was busy applying her lipstick. She looked at herself in a small desk mirror then looked up at Taraji.
"Well, who are you here to see?"
"Mariah Murphey. I'm Taraji Henson."
"Have a seat." The receptionist pressed a few numbers on her multi-line phone.

Taraji walked over to the chic waiting area complete with two white suede oversized chairs and matching couch. There was a white shaggy throw rug underneath the glass coffee table. Sitting on top was one single purple orchid plant and the newest copies of Sports Il-lustrated, ESPN, Vogue, Vanity Fair, and Rolling Stone.
Taraji felt out of place sitting in the chair in her Freedom University sweat pants and T-shirt.
"Taraji?"

Taraji looked up to see Mariah walking toward her. Her red hair pulled back into a tight up-do. Taraji wondered if Mariah ever took her hair down. Taraji smiled, it was good to see a familiar face. Mariah, always in an elegant pantsuit with the same up do, began scouting Taraji when she was a freshman. Taraji always thought she would go with a black sports agent if the time came, however, Mariah won her over with her bigger than-life personality and her focus on business. While other agents were trying to tempt her with big dreams, Mariah kept it real.

Taraji stood up and shook Mariah's hand. She noticed the vacant expression on Mariah's usually cheery face. Something seemed a little off, but Taraji couldn't place it.
"Let's go back to my office."

Taraji followed Mariah down a long corridor. She glanced into other agents' offices, each showcasing some of their triumphs with pictures of their clients on the walls. Taraji walked into the office. She looked around. Taraji expected an open glass room like the ones she'd seen on TV. Instead Mariah's office was filled with various shades of brown with hints of red in a few places. Mariah sat down at her desk. Taraji sat in the chair in front of the desk. Taraji didn't know what to make of Mariah's expression, which was very straight. She was used to a big smile.