Everything Comes Around

By Shawn A. Forbes

Geoff Parks has it all: good looks, money beyond belief and a stellar career as a professional basketball player. He is a one-man-dynasty in the making and everyone wants a piece of him. He is the toast of Madison Avenue and the man everyone wants to know until a hungry and bitter tabloid reporter sets her sights on him and breaks a story that threatens to bring his world crashing down in disgrace.

Caroline Hicks has spent her whole life running away from physical, sexual and emotional abuse, from love and from herself. She is equal parts victim and vixen. Her thirst for the big time catapults her into the orbit of the beloved and phenomenally-talented basketball superstar Geoff Parks. Almost overnight, she goes from an unknown wanna-be journalist to the toast the Atlanta news world, after she breaks a story that turns Geoff Parks' world upside down. But in the process, she forgets to deal with the skeletons in her own closet the walls of which are torn down by a single telephone call.

Jason Dash is the man every other man wants to be: handsome, smart and personable- with the body of a Greek god. He is on the fast track to the big time after he becomes a Partner of one of Atlanta's largest and oldest law firms- until his reckless and self-destructive behavior put his career in jeopardy.

Everything Comes Around is a fast-paced, page-turning thrill of a ride that has it all: sex, subterfuge and nail-biting suspense. At the same time, Forbes explores some of the most pressing social issues of our time: homosexuality, abuse, sexual deception and the cultural phenomenon commonly known as the down-low in a sensitive, humorous, irreverent, but ultimately touching manner that leaves the reader cheering breathlessly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Mar 27, 2007
• ISBN: 9781466956131

Shawn A. Forbes

Shawn Forbes was born in Nassau, New Providence, The Bahamas. He received his education in The Bahamas, the United States of America and the United Kingdom. He is an Attorney by profession and currently works for a Swiss private bank in Nassau. Everything Comes Around, Mr. Forbes' second novel, follows his debut, When Worlds Collide.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Ask anyone who knew her and they would answer, unequivocally, Caroline Hicks is a slut. Caroline, of course, would beg to differ. I’m no slut, she might say. I’m simply a hard-working girl who is doing what she has to do to get ahead. This is what I’ve learned. This is what I know. I’m simply giving back as good as I’ve always gotten. Like a mantra, she repeated the words over and over in her head, as she steadied her back against the ornately carved oak headboard, careful not to mess up her recently acquired auburn hair extensions. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes as she braced herself for Shelby’s unwelcome assault.

Shelby Hillard was the owner and self-styled editor-inchief of the L. A. Informer, a fifth-rate, two-bit tabloid newspaper that made most other supermarket tabloids look like a Pulitzer Prize quality homage to first-class journalism. He had told Caroline in no uncertain terms that every enterprise in the City of Angels had its version of the casting couch, and that his was no exception. Good reporters came a dime a dozen, he always reminded her, and if she wanted to stand outfrom the crowd, she had to offer something more. Caroline Hicks was no fool. From the time she was fourteen years old she had used her body to get what she wanted. Only now, she was a thirty-four year old woman jaundiced by a past long ago re-invented. She was under no illusions as to what something more meant-and she was willing to do it if it translated into the possibility of one day escaping the dingy walls of Shelby Hillard’s office.

Caroline winced as Shelby held one of the bed posters and hoisted his five feet six, two hundred pound frame onto the black satin sheets. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead and rolled down his red, puffy cheeks. He hastily removed his undersized v-neck shirt, wiped his brow and threw the shirt unceremoniously onto the floor, next to a half-eaten container of deep-fried pork balls. The fetid smell of garlic and stale beer overpowered Caroline as Shelby crawled clumsily on top of her. Again, she reminded herself of why she allowed herself to be continually degraded by such a vile creature. Someday I’ll be a real journalist, she whispered.

What was that, honey? he slurred through nicotine-stained teeth.

Just going through a story I’m working on, she lied, as she wiggled from beneath the mass of pink flesh that writhed on top of her. She reached for the brass lamp that sat on the night table and turned out the light.

Why did ya do that, darlin’? he asked. His Texas drawl was emphasized even more by his drunkenness. I wanna see every inch of that pretty black ass.

So that I don’t have to stare into that hideous, swollen, grotesque mask you call a face, she thought. You know I don’t like doing it in the light, Shelby, she replied. It ruins the mood.

Whatever you say, darlin’, he chuckled. Just lemme have some of that sweet dark chocolate.

Caroline gasped for air as he repositioned himself on top of her. She felt his organ swell against her thigh.

I can’t stay too long tonight, Shelby, Caroline said, as she struggled to breathe with the weight of his body on top of her. I really have to complete that story on NBA wives.

I’m the boss, remember? he wheezed.

How can I forget? But if I have my way, you’ll not be for long, you ugly bastard. I will survive you, just as I survived all the others. I’ll be free of you one day, and one day soon. I promise you that. You’d better take all you want now, because as the God I’ve just about forsaken as my witness, you’ll be history very, very soon, you greasy son of a bitch.

He plunged his slimy tongue into her ear, making slurping noises that reminded her of a dog lapping its water. Mistaking her plaintive grunts as evidence of arousal, Shelby raised his body slightly, supporting himself by his palms. He leaned over her and recommenced his assault, working his way across her body with his tongue, like a snake curling itself around the branches of a tree.

How does that feel, honey? he grinned, as he squeezed her breasts with his sausage-like fingers. Caroline let out an imperceptible whimper and prayed that he would soon finish.

Gimme some of that sweet, black ass, baby, Shelby said, as he spanked her on her thigh. Caroline felt like a side of beef hanging in an abattoir.

Talk to me like you like it, baby, Shelby said, as he devoured her body clumsily. You drive me crazy.

She mumbled something that he did not understand.

Damn, he replied. I didn’t know they made ‘em like you down South.

They don’t, she thought to herself. Silence filled the oppressive room.

If I’d known then what I know now I’d never have left the South, he snorted like a pig in fresh mud. Anyway, fuck ‘em. Georgia’s loss is my gain.

Shelby fumbled in the darkness, wheezing uncontrollably as he stroked his organ furiously with one hand and tried to find Caroline’s clitoris with the other. She winced, as he entered her with the grace of a herd of bulls running through the streets of Pamplona.

Give it to me, honey, he panted. Let me have that sexy, smooth, black ass.

For a moment, she wished she could give it to him-a .45 magnum to the head.

Shelby was oblivious to everything around him as he impaled Caroline with his organ. Perspiration poured down his temple in torrents and fell onto Caroline’s breasts. She closed her eyes and held her breath as Shelby made a guttural noise that was reminiscent of a woman in the throes of childbirth. His body shook spasmodically. Caroline exhaled; it was over, at last. He threw the used condom into the bedside trash can and collapsed onto the bed next to Caroline. She turned on the light, jumped from the bed and then hastily gathered her clothes from Shelby’s desk chair.

Damn, honey, he coughed, as he lit a cigarette. You need to bottle that shit and sell it. These damn uptight West Coast bitches can sure use some of that.

Thank you, she replied. Her voice was devoid of emotion.

If you keep that up, you’ll be sitting in my chair soon.

I have to go, Shelby, Caroline said, as she buttoned her crumpled blouse and slipped her feet into the fake black Gucci pumps that she had bought in Koreatown.

Thanks again, darlin’, he chuckled, as he took a long draw from his cigarette. You can see yourself out. I’ll see you in the mornin’. Make sure that damn NBA story is on my desk by ten. We have to run that on Thursday.

He was snoring like a snorting pig before she left the room.

*****

Caroline admired the opulence of the houses as she walked the short distance from North Beechwood Drive to Melrose Avenue. Most of them were set back from the street in leafy, lawn-draped grounds. Luxury cars and sports utility vehicles lined the cobblestone driveways. Men and women with perfect tans and Greek god bodies jogged along immaculately kept pavements. Caroline wondered how a scum-sucking bottom feeder like Shelby had made it to Hancock Park, one of the most sought after neighborhoods in Southern California.

Maybe there is hope for me yet, she said out loud, as she hailed a taxi on Melrose Avenue. But I’ve got to find a way of escaping that vile creature first.

Figuratively speaking, Pico-Union, where Caroline lived, was as close to Hancock Park as Earth was to Mars. Most of the white residents had been replaced by Hispanic immigrants. Crime and gang-related activities were rife. Every time Caroline walked through Pico and Olympic Boulevard, she prayed not to be harassed by roadside drunks and hoodlums. A black woman was very hard to miss in Pico-Union.

Caroline paid the taxi driver before exiting and quickly opened the door to her Hoover Street apartment building, which occupied the second floor of a Korean restaurant. She splashed cold water on her face and looked forlornly into thecracked bathroom mirror. Tears formed in her eyes and rolled down her finely chiseled cheekbones. Her lips quivered.

I hate my fucking life! she screamed and collapsed onto the cracked, dingy tiled floor.

CHAPTER 2

There was no doubt about it. Geoffrey Parks was poised to become the greatest American basketball superstar since Michael Jordan-on and off the basketball court. His gym-sculpted Adonis-like, six feet seven inches frame, caramel skin and matinee idol looks were the envy of countless men and made women weak in the knees. His agents’ answering machines and email inboxes were perennially flooded with requests from everyone, from fashion designers to soft drink companies, for Geoff to become the face of their latest campaign. He was a media darling, an advertiser’s dream. Everyone wanted a piece of Geoffrey Parks. And his basketball statistics were not too bad either. In his tenth and most recent season with the NBA, the world’s premier basketball league, Geoff had risen far above the pack of would-be legends. During the most recent basketball season, he equaled Michael Jordan’s prolific 1988-1989 campaign by leading the league with an average of 32.5 points per game. He ranked third in steals with an average of 3.12 per game and was third in assists with a career high of 8.2 assists per game. Minutes played pergame; rebounds per game… The figures were astoundingly impressive all around. His success during the regular season was matched only by his efforts during the championship play-offs, which propelled his team to the championship over their archrivals, the Miami Chargers. His star was on the ascent-to the stratosphere. There was no stopping Geoff Parks.

*****

Stephen Taylor, Geoff’s long-time partner, was reading a newspaper when Geoff danced into the den, with a bottle of chilled Veuve Cliquot La Grand Dame champagne in one hand and two chilled crystal flutes in the other.

What’s up, darling? Stephen asked, as he peered over the frame of his reading glasses. Did the lottery numbers come in?

Better than that, Geoff grinned. Better than that, my love. He placed the champagne bottle and flutes onto the large mahogany desk and then leaned over to kissed Stephen on his forehead.

So are we going to share? Stephen asked, slapping Geoff playfully on his cheek.

Sure, I’ll let you have a glass once I’ve uncorked the champagne, Geoff replied with a straight face. He took the bottle from the desk and peeled off the foil cap and retaining wire.

Give it to me. Give it up, Mr. Parks, Stephen said, searching Geoff’s face for clues.

Not so fast, baby boy, Geoff teased, as he finally uncorked the bottle. The night is long. I’m all yours.

If we continue at this rate, it’ll be a long night indeed, Stephen replied. Let me have it now!

We are feeling a bit frisky, aren’t we? Geoff laughed, as he poured the champagne.

Geoffrey Parks! Stephen exclaimed, pinching him on the cheek. You’re incorrigible!

That’s one of the main reasons you find me so irresistible, Geoff winked. Now take this glass and congratulate me.

Am I likely to find out before I’m too old to understand or care? Stephen asked with a wide grin.

That’s not the right attitude, Geoff deadpanned, as he sipped his champagne.

Stephen threw his hands in the air in mock frustration. Alright, already, he said, rolling his eyes. Congratulations.

Thank you, Geoff bowed politely.

Now what? Stephen laughed.

You’re such an impatient man, Geoff teased again. I hope you exercise a bit more forbearance with the poor and disaffected immigrants whose cause you supposedly champion.

Stephen put his glasses down and walked toward Geoff. I want your news and I want it now, Mr. Parks. What are we celebrating?

We got Nike, Coca-Cola and Wheaties!

You got what? Stephen asked with his eyes bulging and his mouth agape.

You heard me, Geoff replied with a wide grin. We got Nike, Coca-Cola and Wheaties-and all on the same day!

You’re not putting me on, are you, Geoff? Stephen asked, as he searched Geoff’s eyes.

I kid you not, my love. I just got off the phone with Gus Weiszman, agent extraordinaire. He gave me the news.

Tears formed in Stephen’s eyes as he searched for theright words. That’s wonderful, baby. That’s incredible. Congratulations. He held Geoff in a tight embrace. You deserve all that. And more

I still can’t believe it, Geoff replied. But Gus says it’s in black and white. The offers are on his desk. They all want me. They all want this l’il ole boy from Crenshaw.

But all at the same time, Stephen said, as he sipped his champagne. That has to be some kind of record.

I’ll take it however it comes, baby boy, Geoff smiled. I’m just grateful for the opportunity.

And what opportunities they are! Stephen exclaimed. Do you have any idea of the client base of those three brands? There won’t be anyone in the entire United States who doesn’t know you.

It feels like that already, Geoff smiled. I guess I’d better not put a foot out of line.

I’d say the chances are less than zero, Stephen answered, as he took Geoff by the hand and drew him close to him. It really is coming together for you, Geoff. I’m so proud of you.

It all came together when you uprooted your entire life to be with me, he replied with a warm smile.

Considering what an ass I’d been to let you go in the first place, I wasn’t about to make that mistake again. Stephen pulled a guilty face. I still can’t believe it took me so long to find the courage to do it. If it hadn’t been for the love and support of Tanya and Suresh, I probably wouldn’t have found it.

"You had to go through what you did to get here, Stephen. Mom always said growing up: If you live long enough, everything comes around. What matters is that we’re together and I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world."

Nor would I; I would choose my life with you over everything else.

Ditto, baby boy, Geoff replied.

Including the bright lights and screaming girls? Stephen asked.

I’m sure you know I like women, Stephen, Geoff answered with a wink and a grin. But not in that way.

Stephen gave him a playful slap on his cheek. Don’t be cheeky with me, Geoffrey Parks. You know exactly what I’m talking about.

Do you have any idea how I felt when I thought I’d lost you, Stephen? When… His voice trailed off.

When I fell apart over the guilt I felt after my mother’s death and deceived Evelyn into marrying me? Stephen finished the question for him.

You did what you felt you had to do, Stephen. But that’s all in the past. We’re together and nothing’s going to change that. Geoff poured another glass of champagne and raised it in a silent toast.

I do worry about the toll that all this can take on your career, Stephen said.

All this? Our relationship, you mean? Geoff asked.

Yes, Stephen replied. You’ve worked so hard. I wouldn’t want our relationship to get in the way of your success.

Geoff leaned over the desk and looked Stephen in the eye. "Stephen, my career is important to me. Yes, I continue to be astounded by my success-both on and off the court. Yeah, I’d probably miss it if it all came crashing down tomorrow. But, I’d get over it-because you’re here with me. Losing you, losing us. that would be another story. I wouldn’t want to go on without you. I couldn’t go on without you. The trials we’ve faced separately and together have made us what we are. They’ve made our relationship what it is today. I’d never want to face the thought of losing us."

I feel the same way, Stephen replied, as he caressed Geoff’s hands.

I want to grow old with you. I want you here with me when we’re both too old to remember each other’s names. Because we’ll have our love, and that’s enough for me.

I wouldn’t have it any other way, Mr. Parks, Stephen said, as they held each other.

The best is yet to come, Geoff smiled as he raised his glass again.

Indeed, my love, Stephen replied. Indeed.

CHAPTER 3

If raw, unbridled, unadulterated sex appeal had a name it would be called Jason Dash. At thirty-six, he was in his prime-a six feet two inches, two hundred pound specimen of rock-solid muscle, rolled into a flawless skin that could have provided the template for the finest caramel sauce. He was the epitome of physical perfection. And he had the brain and personality to match. If his brooding good looks made women swoon, his effusive charm and razor-sharp wit rendered them unconscious. No one was more aware of that power than he was. And he had no qualms about using it. The names in Jason’s private address book read like a Who’s-Who of Atlanta’s most beautiful, important, powerful and brilliant. Fashion models, doctors, lawyers, television personalities-they all shared a place on his contact list and, in many cases, his bed, which could take pride of place in the Smithsonian Institute as the most frequently used bed in the whole of North America. But Jason Dash was more than that. Beneath the veneer of brashness and self-confidence lay a far more complex man, whose actions were driven as much out of fearas they were out of recklessness and lust. Yes, he had been the product of the best education that money could buy. Yes, this should have given him the ability to rise above the age-old stereotypical image of the African-American male as a single-minded playboy. But he was far more afraid of facing the real Jason Dash-the one who would explode the myth; the one who would expose the man.

*****

Jason was immersed in a mountain of legal documents when Jake Hatcher, the senior partner of his law firm, appeared at his office door.

Good morning, Jake, Jason smiled, as he sipped his coffee. Come in.

How are you, Jason? Jake asked. He sat in one of the plush chocolate brown leather chairs in front of Jason’s desk.

Great, Jake. I’m just going over a few things before my day gets crazy.

I won’t take up too much of your time, Jason, Jake answered. The wrinkles in the corner of his eyes accentuated his fatherly smile.

It’s not a problem, Jason said. I need to come up for air anyway. How can I help you?

I’ll get right to the point, he replied. The Partners asked me to pop in to see you.

Jason cleared his throat and adjusted his necktie. That has an ominous ring to it, he halfjoked.

We’re really grateful for the contribution you’ve made to the firm since you’ve been with us, Jake said. His face betrayed no emotion.

Thanks, Jason replied, searching Jake’s eyes for a hint of where the conversation might be going. We’ve worked well together during the last seven years. I think we’re a great team.

I think so, too. His emerald green eyes sparkled as a wide grin spread across his face. That’s why the Partners have asked me to invite you to join our little group.

Pardon me? Jason asked with startled eyes.

You heard me, Jason, Jake said as he stood up. We’d be delighted if you’d consider joining the partnership. You’ve proven your value to this firm time and time again. We’d love to have you.

Blood rushed to Jason’s cheeks. He suddenly felt warm from head to toe. Wow! Wow. Jason Dash was actually stammering.

I hope that means yes, Jake laughed.

Hell, yes! Jason exclaimed. He leaped from his chair and nearly tripped on a pile of files on the floor beside his desk. I’d be honored, Jake, he said, as he stretched out his hand. I’d be delighted.

That’s great, Jake replied with an outstretched hand. Congratulations, Jason. You are now a Partner at Hatcher, Levin and Schwarzberg. I’ll let the boys know that you’ve accepted our offer. Let’s get together around four p.m. to hammer out the details. How does that sound?

I’ll be there, Jason grinned. He looked down for a moment to see if his heart had exploded from his chest. It felt that way.

Wonderful, Jake answered, as he placed his arm around Jason’s shoulder. It’ll be your first Partners’ meeting. I’m sure the others will be there to congratulate you too.

What can I say? Jason asked. I’m truly honored that you’ve extended such a gracious offer. I won’t let you down, Jake.

We’re proud of you, Jason, Jake replied. We’re sure that you’ll make a wonderful addition to our little pack. Goodness knows we can use a li’l bit of class. He gave Jason a fatherly pat on the back before leaving.

Jason’s heart was still racing when he staggered back to his chair. His head spun as he replayed the conversation with Jake. Did he hear right? " You’re now a Partner at Hatcher, Levin and Schwarzberg. You’ve proven your value to this firm time and time again…We’re sure you’ll make a wonderful addition to our little pack..."

Ain’t that the shit? he asked out loud as a grin spread across his face. I’m one of the big boys now. Jason Dash is one of the big boys.

Even in the midst of his euphoria, the significance of his elevation to the partnership of one of Atlanta’s oldest law firms was not lost on Jason. Such an achievement would not have been possible in the South that his father knew when he was Jason’s age. Never mind the fact that he graduated first in his class at Fisk University-and repeated that feat at Columbia Law School. Jason was black and there was a time, not too long ago, before the term African-American came into vogue, when an eighty year old black man would still be called boy; the time of Medgar Evers, Emmet Till and, yes, the time of Martin Luther King Jr., when black men like Jason only had dreams.

He was still reveling in Jake’s revelation when his secretary buzzed him to say that his father was on the telephone to confirm their weekly golf game. Jason’s heart swelled with pride as he picked up the telephone receiver.

Hey, dad, he said, trying to sound casual. He was grateful that it was not a videophone. What’s up?

Hey yourself, son, his father replied. Your old man’sdoing great, just checking to see if his li’l boy is up for golf this week.

I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, Jason answered, still trying not to betray any hint of his news to the man he had fought to please since the time he missed a crucial pass in a seventh grade championship football game that cost his team the championship.

Your mother’s threatening to join us for lunch after her hair appointment. I hope you don’t mind.

No problem, dad. Do you think she’ll mind our boy talk?

Are you kidding? Mr. Dash asked. We’re practically angels compared to that bunch of hags she hangs out with at the beauty salon. She won’t mind.

Then it sounds like a plan. And I need to talk to the two of you anyway.

Is everything is fine, son?

Sure, dad, Jason replied. Everything’s cool. Just wanted to run something by you, that’s all.

"You don’t have to wait