Some Things We Just Don't Talk About

By Penn Wright

Jermaine Dunn, high ranking sports executive, thinks she has escaped her past by hiding safely in Atlanta. But when her demanding, aggressive, no-nonsense, sports agent best friend, Demetrys Washington comes calling for a favor, she find herself back in Miami where things get HOT!

Demetrys Washington, sports agent, is one tough mama looking to etch her name in the sports world with new client Chaig McCray. She calls on her girl to help her out, but finds herself coming to the rescue.

Chaig McCray is the hottest running back coming out of college and he knows it. But some off-field troubles, and some personal challenges look to threaten both his personal and professional future.

These three are surrounded by a supporting cast of characters that have a little bit of everybody in them. From the issue of domestic violence, to strip club etiquette, Some Things touches them all. And when all the secrets are out, the whole cast realizes some things you just dont talk about.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 16, 2005
• ISBN: 9781463455071

Penn Wright

Penn Wright is a native of Miami, Florida.  Her passion has always been to write and have “the world read her stories.”  She found her inspiration for her first novel amongst her friends and experiences.  She hopes her novel will introduce the world to a new genre, Faction: Fiction based on facts.    She holds a B.A in Creative Writing from the Florida State University, with a minor in Criminology.  She is currently working on a book of short stories entitled, “Brothers Say the Darndest Things”.    She has one son, and is currently single living in Miami working on her next novel.

Book preview

Some Things We Just

Don’t Talk About

By

Penn Wright

Title_Page_Logo.ai

This book is a work of fiction. Places, events, and situations in this story are purely fictional and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

© 2005 Penn Wright.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 04/29/04

ISBN: 1-4208-0706-4 (sc)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

JERMAINE

CHAPTER TWO

JERMAINE

CHAPTER THREE

CHAIG

CHAPTER FOUR

JERMAINE

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAIG

CHAPTER SIX

DEMETRYS

CHAPTER SEVEN

JERMAINE

CHAPTER EIGHT

JERMAINE

CHAPTER NINE

CHAIG

CHAPTER TEN

JERMAINE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

DEMETRYS

CHAPTER TWELVE

JERMAINE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAIG

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JERMAINE

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAIG

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAIG

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JERMAINE

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

JERMAINE

CHAPTER NINETEEN

JERMAINE

CHAPTER TWENTY

JERMAINE

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAIG

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

JERMAINE

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAIG

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

JERMAINE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

JERMAINE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

DEMETRYS

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAIG

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

JERMAINE

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

DEMETRYS

CHAPTER THIRTY

JERMAINE

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

DEMETRYS

Yes!

I would have never thought that night back in 1999 when I had a dream about one scene between Juarren and Jermaine that Some Things… would be the fruit of that. Imagine, that scene never made it to the book!! But of course no accomplishment is achieved alone.

First of all, thank you Lord Jesus Christ for sustaining me during this process, and never letting me lose my love for writing. Thank you for never letting me down!

I have to, if I thank no one else, I must thank my wonderful parents Ralph and Linda. Mother, thank you for loving me and raising me. Thank you for being strong. Thank you for helping me with my son. I absolutely love you. I do, and for anyone reading this go tell your mother you love them now!

Father, what can I say? You are the role model’s role model. I aspire to have your patience, your compassion, your strong religious beliefs. I still remember how I used to fall asleep on purpose just so you could carry me in your arms to bed. I remember looking at you in the back of my elementary school cafeteria beaming with pride about all the awards I would win. Daddy, you are all the father I need. I absolutely love you. I love Mommy for giving us both a gift by marrying you. Muah, love Feli!

To my, Craig Sean Dallas Key, thank you for our son. Thank you for showing me a love that I have never known before. Thank you for being my Tupac and Bill Gates wrapped in one. Thank you for filling my heart with unexplainable joy. You are love. Thank you for never once asking me to change my ways You will always be my Pookah Bear!!

To my best friend Natasha Demetrys Jackson. Girl, I love your character! Thank you for giving me that woo-woo when I have been whining or feeling sorry for myself. Thank you for teaching me how to skip school back in 7th grade. Thank you for accepting six dollars in quarters as payment for the lesson. Oh my gosh, Tattoo, you and I have books within books. I love you, dog, for being you and putting up with me. Thank you for showing me how true friends treat each other, minus that one incident (smile). Thank you for being a true person. Thank you for never taking me through the normal girl-bullshit other girlfriends go through. Thank you for having my back and just being down with me from Day one. You stand alone at the top.

To Daphne and Veronica, thank you for always supporting me. Thank you for encouraging me to do this book and stay with it. Thank you for being my friend even when the chips were down. Dappy, you are a beautiful person. I can think of absolutely nothing I would change about you. You are perfection embodied. Min, Veronica, you are my role model of what a friend should be. Your loyalty is immeasurable. When you say we are friends I know what that means, and I love you for it.

Everyone deserves a paragraph, but heck I just finished writing a novel so forgive me if I am a fan of brevity.

I would also like to thank: Eileen Russell (Bytedreams) for the beautiful cover. Amos and Betty Key. Ramona Exum, my first professional role model. Elizabeth Hanson, you should be cloned. Law Professors Martha Mahoney and Donna Coker, my other professional role models. Ebony Livingston, for reading draft after draft after draft after draft. My god-mother, Patricia Burton…thanks for the dimples. Shana, Dawn, Tina and Detra holding it down at the Law School. Auntie Glenda Nelson, Tanti Jenny, and Grandma Homer, the original gangstas. Joanne Evering, for being my first official customer (smile). Rashima Newton..have one ready for me. Jill Tracey, the voice of Miami. Shunda, Dorothy, and Debbie..I’ll never get too big to have lunch. Trina, the Diamond Princess, for being an inspiration to use what you got to get what you want. I used my brain to get this book done. My nephews Cameron, and Devante. My baby-mama Mia G Davis (lol). Shev, MQ, and all the CK’s. Eric and Natre Key. All my cousins…Nati, like the cover? Kente Hallomon…you still here? My landlord Leonard, thanks for the layaway plan. And I have saved the best for last. My son Chase Craig Key. Your mommy loves you more than she loves herself. I hope I make you proud.

MUAH to all!! Happy Reading and remember, some things you just don’t talk about unless it’s about buying this book. (wink)

PREFACE

When was this guest speaker going to shut up? Graduation always looked better when I was in the audience. At least then I could walk around when I got bored, but when you were part of the graduation, you were trapped until it was over. I was ready to walk across that stage, smile for the camera, kiss my mama, and catch my flight.

Lord knows, I never thought I would ever see this day. I thought that I was going to end up a statistic. In fact, I thought a lot of crazy niggas were going to make me a statistic. I knew I was either going to end up a baby mama, a battered girlfriend, or a murder victim. Personally, if I had to choose one, I would have chosen baby mama, but Terrance, Mark, and Juarren chose Door #2 and damn near Door#3.

How does a girl go through her last 2 years of undergrad and 3 years of Law School under that kind of heat? Easy. Lots of prayer and, God forgive me, lots of marijuana. I didn’t even smoke until I met Juarren. There were a lot of things I didn’t do until somebody. I had never done oral sex until Terrance, a caramel brother that put the Gold in Gold’s gym. He was a real player. I met him when I was a sophomore at State. He was a junior across the way at FAMU. Finance major. Had his own apartment, own car, and made the meanest pepper steak this side of China. He wined and dined me out my draws, inhibitions, and my right mind. He was my first love. And, unfortunately, when I fell, I fell hard. He made love to my mind and body, sometimes simultaneously. He was every bit the gentlemen, and most of all, he took care of the little things; something brothers never seemed to do. He knew how to combine romance, and finance, without being a nuisance.

Lucky me, I thought. Found my husband sophomore year; now all I had to do was graduate and wait for the wedding. So you can imagine my reaction when Roslyn Wells told me on a Saturday, in Tallahassee, in the middle of the black folks’ mall, that she was 3 months pregnant with his baby. I dropped straight to my knees and wailed. When I finally got it down to a controlled whimper, and a few hiccups, Amira appeared at my side.

Jay, get up. Don’t let this girl humiliate you. Get up, Jermaine.

But Mira, she..she..she said.

I didn’t know how to articulate my pain. All I could manage was a, Unnngh! that sounded like a wounded calf. Amira finally got me to my feet.

I was in a daze all the way home from the mall. I couldn’t believe what she’d told me, but it was painfully true. Two years and two kids later it was still true for them.

When I got home from the mall, I finally got the courage to call Terrance’s house and curse him, his bastard child, his baby mama, and his ghetto ass neighbor with the overweight poodle; nobody was safe, and I didn’t give two hells if I was talking to his answering machine. His roommates would be greatly entertained when they got home. I was young, confused, hurt, and mad. When he pulled up to my apartment thirty minutes later, and kicked my door in with one try, waving a 9mm handgun, I realized he was mad. He scared the shit out of Amira. She thought quicker than me and went to dial 911. He thought quicker than her and yanked the phone out of the wall. I thought for sure I was dead, but he put the gun up and gave me an old fashioned ass whipping like my mama used to. You know, the ones that corresponded with every blow:

"Don’t (blow) you (blow) ever (blow) call (blow) my (blow)

house (blow) with (blow) that (blow) shit (blow), stupid BITCH!"

He wiped the sweat off his brow, walked over my fetal-positioned body, and out my life. That was my closure.

Needless to say, I was pretty scarred mentally by that whole episode. So my mama came and snatched my butt home to Miami for a year. I’d graduated high school early, so I could afford to go home, recuperate a year and still be on schedule. But I finally went back to State to finish my degree, to fulfill a promise I made to myself. That’s when I met Mark.

Mark didn’t beat my butt -- well he did toss me in a closet once -- but that was my fault, and it was nothing compared to Terrance. All he did was neglect to tell me he had not 1, not 2, but 3 kids. I was 20 years old, with two years left in school and nobody’s stepmother, so he had to go. After Mark, I declared myself on strike, but in walked Juarren and fucked up everything.

He was 6’5", Famous-Amos cookie brown, sleepy eyed, and had a Mr. Meat on him that made butchers want to put a USDA stamp on it. He told me he understood about Terrance and Mark, and the other nameless figures in my checkered past. He promised -- looked me straight in the eye, in my soul -- and promised.

Jermaine, I don’t understand how those brothers couldn’t see how special you are. Just let me in. We will be different.

He batted those long, dark, female-like eyelashes at me, and it looked like whatever he was feeling inside was so intense it hurt. Then he did it. He bit his bottom lip, crawled up from the foot of the bed and kissed me long and strong. The kind of kiss where the brother holds your face with both hands so you can’t move, don’t really want to move, tilts your face to his, closes his eyes first, and you fuse together like a magnet to a Maytag. His hands trailed down my back and my clothes were off before I could get the ‘n’ out in ‘no’. We made love for hours, and after the 2nd time, or maybe the 3rd, he asked me, Are the walls down baby?

Through blurred vision, and a heavenly dementia, I said, What walls?

After two months of courting, Juarren got me to do something I never thought I would do after Terrance; I fell in love again. I fell hard, harder than before. Juarren gave me a swift reality kick in the ass that caused me to fall right on my face. Graduation day was the first day I had picked myself up.

I heard the President’s voice begin calling the graduates up. I felt the tears coming. I knew the difference between tears of heartbreak and tears of joy. The indigestive lump in my throat told me these tears were of the former. Thinking about Juarren always made the pain seem fresh. The last 8 months we’d been together, I stayed out of fear and sympathy. He had knocked the love out of me with his quick lefts and hard rights. Tina had Ike. I had Juarren. He was my sole motivation to graduate and get the hell out of Dodge.

I graduated May 15 and was adjusting to my new job and new apartment in Atlanta, away from him, State, Florida, and the memories by May 18. Maybe I should have told him something before I left. But I was never good at leaving anybody; so I had to haul ass while I had the courage. I felt guilty about boarding the plane without telling him as much as a goodbye. But, that was me, always wrestling with my conscience. Before I did something stupid like, pull out the cell phone, and call him. I convinced myself some things weren’t worth talking about.

CHAPTER ONE

JERMAINE

I was nervous as hell when my assistant told me Kathleen Winters wanted to see me. She was the Vice President of Development at NATCAI, the National Association for the Change in Athlete’s Images, where I’d been working for the past 3 years. They’d offered me the job right out of law school. Joyce, who had been my supervisor throughout my internship with them, convinced them to hire me before I got a taste of lawyer life. I thought I would end up being a sports agent, combining law and my experience at NATCAI, but I ended up a Symposium Coordinator, which allowed me to use more of my English background, but my Law Degree was safely tucked away, just in case.

I enjoyed my job as Coordinator. I worked with a staff of about twenty people. It was our job to coordinate, create and conduct workshops around the nation for the NBA, WNBA, and the NHL. We covered everything from money management to etiquette -- and more often than I would have liked to admit -- how to get and stay out of trouble. We’d been having lots of success lately with the various programs, and from what I could run through my mind on the elevator ride to the 23rd floor—where all the big wigs sat, everything was o-kay. The elevator door opened and I took one last glance in the mirrored walls and proceeded to Kathleen’s office. Her secretary told me that they were waiting for me in the Buccaneer room. We always changed the name of our main conference room to the current Super Bowl Champion, in honor of the NFL. We wanted their contract so bad. At least, it wasn’t Conference Room Houston, named after the sorriest team from the previous season. That’s where they took you when it was time to discuss severance packages. I could hear Kathleen’s laughter bouncing off the marbled floors. The giggle was different than the homegirl chuckle I’d hear when she was chitchatting with the other black Execs, not that there were many. Three exactly, including her. Her light giggle let me know that there were more white people in the room than Black.

Oh , Greg, you are such a card. Card? There mustn’t have been any Black people in the room. Greg? Greg Diamond? The President? No. That man only came to board meetings, major hirings, and serious firings. I wanted to run back to the secretary and ask for the meeting ‘s agenda, but there was no time. I rapped lightly on the thick, oak, doors and heard someone say, Come in.

Jermaine, we thought you’d gotten lost.

No, sir. Just finishing up some business. There were 6 people in the room besides me. Greg pulled out the chair at one end of the cherry-oak Westing conference table, while everyone else took their seats. I recognized their faces from company meetings. The Director of Athletic relations, Marketing, Joyce, Kathleen, and her boss, were seated on either sides of the table, and Greg was sitting in front of me at the opposite end. Joyce was to my right. She gave my hand a gentle squeeze and her face told me to relax. I had just gotten a fresh perm and was hoping the sweat beads on my forehead wouldn’t cause my edges to nap up right before their eyes.

Well, Jermaine, Kathleen started, you’re probably anxious to find out why you’re here, so we’ll get right to it.

I sat upright in my chair. According to many top executives alert meant attentive, so I always tried to look as awake as possible.

Jermaine, as you know we’ve been trying, for a long time to convince the NFL to let go of their internal development program and utilize us. I am happy to say that they have finally agreed to let us in on a trial basis. In light of the bad publicity surrounding college and pro athletes, the NFL wants to put this task on an organization that focuses on this type of thing. We are very excited about this, and about the people we have chosen to help us do that -- you being one of them.

I tried to remain calm, keep my face blank but my instant smile let everyone know I was one happy camper.

Jermaine, you are being promoted. We’d like to offer you the position of EO of the NATCAI: NFL Division of Rookie Development.

I was so excited about my new promotion that by the time I came off my cloud, I made a mental note to pick up the minutes to this meeting later because I was sure I’d missed a few things. I did hear new office, raise, create, be a spokesperson. I was getting a lot more responsibility, which I embraced wholeheartedly.

Ms. Dunn, Mr. Diamond interjected, Along with the big bucks comes big responsibility, not only ours to the NFL, but yours to us. We’ve worked deliberately, convincing the NFL that we can help keep their image clean, and the image of their athletes, and potential athletes. The buck starts and stops with you. There’s no tolerance for mistakes.

He picked up his glass of water in front of him and sipped slowly, never taking his beady gray eyes off of me. His expression and the thick silence of the room let me know that if I messed up, I was out the door.

Mr. Diamond, I understand your concern, but you did not select me for this job based on my history of erroneous decisions. I promise you I will make this division work.

I flashed my most confident smile, putting my best dimple forward. Smiling always made people feel more comfortable. In my opinion that was truly my best asset, so I milked it for everything it was worth.

I hope so Jermaine. All of us do.

There was another uncomfortable silence, but it didn’t last long enough to thicken.

Kathleen spoke up, Well, Jermaine, do you have any questions?

I had been dreaming of this day where I would get my needs and wants catered to. Like Amira always said, start big and work downwards.

I want the corner office. The one with the wall length windows.

Mr. Diamond rubbed his chin for all of three seconds and nodded to Kathleen.

Windows, no can do. Corner, we can do.

I rubbed my chin for all of five seconds pondering about my raise.

Will I be getting the standard Executive Officer’s raise? They looked around like I wasn’t supposed to know about that. My eyebrow arched at their conspiring silence letting them know that not only did I know about the raise, I knew exactly how much it was. Kathleen smiled like she was trying to fight back a ‘you-got-‘em-by-the-balls-girl’ chuckle. She didn’t wait for Mr. Diamond to