Playthang

by Janine A. Morris

Genres: African American; African American Women's Fiction; African American Romance

Synopsis

From the author of the smash hit Diva Diaries comes this unforgettable story of a woman who is ready to trade her long-term hopes for some short-term pleasure Jordan Moore is in the middle of a breakdown. Thirty-four years old and newly single, she has given custody of her son to her ex-husband and now regrets the decision; her ex-husband is getting married again; and after a year of disappointments from Jayon, her best friend-turned-boyfriend, she has given up on true love. All her years of living a moral, straight-laced, practical life seem to have gotten her nowhere. Now she wants to walk on the wild side and do a little heartbreaking of her own. It does not take Jordan long to find the rowdy, steamy pleasure that she seeks--with no strings attached, of course--and she is content with her new attitude. By using men the way she has been used, Jordan believes that she is somehow evening the score. But when she meets Marcus, a wonderful, caring gentleman who sees through all of her guardedness, she is thrown for a loop. Is he another Mr. Wrong to be avoided at all costs? Or will Jordan realize that true love is standing right in front of her. . .before it is too late? Praise for Janine A. Morris and Diva Diaries "Reminiscent of Waiting to Exhale." -- Booklist "Morris has a way with words and drama."-- NY Daily News "I felt like I was experiencing one of my own girls' night out."--La La, MTV VJ

Release date: March 1, 2012

Publisher: Dafina

Print pages: 286

Sample

The look on her face expressed a clear level of discomfort. It seemed Ms. Grant wasn’t prepared for the question that Jordan had asked her. Jordan, on the other hand, was poised and bright-eyed, awaiting an answer.

The young lady was sitting directly across from Jordan, alongsideher colleagues. Jordan sat with only her client, Aminae Carty, who was an artist professionally known as Amina.

“I’m not sure I understand what you are getting at,” the young lady responded.

“What I’m getting at is there seems to be a lack of awarenesson your company’s part. Amina has sold over 300,000 singlesin this past month alone, without the backing of a major company. Therefore, I believe it is apparent that she is not your typical breakthrough artist, which is why I asked whether you are fully aware of her potential,” Jordan said, looking directly at the three people across from her.

Amina sat in the chair, trying to look as confident as possible,but it seemed that she was uncomfortable as well.

The colleagues on the other side of the table were all employedby Def Society Records.The young lady sitting directly across from Jordan was the director of business & legal affairs, Jill Turner. The other two faces belonged to Jill’s assistant and her manager of business affairs.

“Well, yes, we are aware that Amina made strides with her careerprior to deciding to join us. However, the support and funds that we plan to put behind her will take her career to another level, which may take her years to achieve on her own, if at all.”

“Ms. Grant, my client and I are well aware of what Def SocietyRecords is offering. If we didn’t feel it would benefit her, we wouldn’t be sitting here. However, we are also aware of how adding her to your roster will benefit you. Amina has done the hard work of generating her own buzz and awareness throughout the East and West coasts. She has a recognizable name, she has received radio airplay, and she is extremely talented.Adding her is a win-win for your company, and all we are asking is that you recognize that and not offer her the same deal you would offer someone who hasn’t accomplished as much.”

“Ms. Moore, I see your point, and at this time, this is all I’m capable of offering.”

“Well, we are not capable of accepting this offer. However, we greatly appreciate your interest and time, and hopefully we can do business together in the future.”

Ms. Grant looked surprised as she watched Jordan gather her folders and papers from the table.

“Ms. Moore, we would hate to lose out on the opportunityto work with Amina. Let me have a meeting with Shewayne,the president, and see if we can rework the budget to find a better figure to satisfy you and Amina.”

“That is fine. I will respectfully hold off the other offers until we speak again.”

“That will be appreciated.”

Jordan stood from her chair. As she pushed the seat farther back, she realized Amina was still sitting there, looking a bit perplexed. Jordan gestured to her with her eyes that it was time to make their exit. Amina immediately jumped up to stand besideJordan. Ms. Grant and her colleagues rose as well; they picked up their files from the table and began preparing to exit the conference room. Jordan and Amina both scooted their chairs back and began walking toward the door.

Everyone pretty much reached the door at the same time, and they exchanged words along the lines of “good-bye” and “I’ll speak to you soon.” Once the lobby was cleared, Amina and Jordan waited for the elevator. They stood there in silence for a few moments while the receptionist watched them wait. Once the elevator arrived, they both stepped in, and Jordan pressed the button for the ground floor.

“You OK?” Jordan asked Amina.

“Yeah. A little nervous.”

“About what?”

“Well, what if they don’t want me anymore?”

“Amina, I wouldn’t have jeopardized your career. I told you on the way over that the goal of today’s meeting was to get a better deal. I am certain that they will counteroffer with a much better deal.That offer she gave was not their best. I have known Shewayne for a long time now; I know he will send Ms. Grant back to us with the appropriate figures.”

“OK. I trust you,” Amina said with a shrug.

“Good.You should. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

Jordan and Amina walked out of the building onto Eighth Avenue and looked around.

“Which way are you headed? You need a lift somewhere?” Jordan asked.

“I’m good. I’m meeting some friends around the corner. Thanks.”

“OK. I’ll be in touch.”

Jordan walked down the street toward her car. Almost there, she looked up and noticed a Starbucks across the street. She began to cross the street to go grab herself a mocha latte, but halfway across she changed her mind. She realized she didn’t need the extra calories, and she needed to resist this constant urge of hers. So she turned back and headed toward her car. She walked a few feet and arrived at her black BMW X5. She beeped the alarm, opened the door, and sat inside. Once she settled in her seat, before she started the car, she reached into her bag and got out her BlackBerry. A look of disappointmentcame over her face when she realized that she hadn’t receiveda call or e-mail from Jayon the entire day. She was tempted to call him and ask where her hello was for the day, but she decided against it. Instead, she just started her car and pulled out into the heavy traffic of Manhattan to try to make her way home. Surprisingly, she didn’t mind the traffic; Jordan was in no rush to get home to her empty house.

It was the third time over the course of two weeks that Jordanhad been sitting on her front lawn waiting on Jayon. The two of them had gotten so busy with work these past few months that they had to make appointments to spend time with each other. However, the times they set seemed to be difficultfor Jayon to keep. The last time, he had Jordan waiting on him for almost an hour, and he said he was held up with a client at the office. This time, Jordan didn’t even care what his excuse was, because nothing seemed to justify him not answeringhis phone or calling her to let her know he’d be late.

From up the street all you could recognize was Jordan’s five feet seven, 145-pound frame slouched in her patio chair. She looked out over her garden, which she had to admit was due for some tender loving care. Her rose bushes and plants were still healthy except for a few that were wilting here and there, but there were weeds popping up and some excess leaves lying around. It wasn’t hard to see the look of frustration covering her medium brown complexion. Her light brown eyes were downcast due to the frown she was wearing. Her shoulder-length hair was slicked back into a bun, and she wore a multicolored, sheer minidress with a slip underneath it and some black sandals. She was dressed for a bright and happy evening, but from the way things were looking, it wasn’t going to go as planned.

Jordan slowly stood up and folded her arms. She glanced down the block and noticed the little girl playing in front of her house down the street. Sitting a few feet away were the little girl’s parents. They were just sitting there watching their daughterplay as they conversed about who knows what. Jordan didn’t know what they were speaking of, but they looked happy. She couldn’t help but feel weak realizing how she no longer had that. Her family was shattered, and she missed the hell out of her son. It was enough dealing with her ex-husband’s engagement,but seeing Jason with the two of them made her sick to her stomach. Watching the happy neighbors gave her the same feeling, so she finally looked away. Jordan looked down at her feet and then back up again. She looked down the street one more time, and then she dropped her arms and headed for her front door.

Once she stepped back inside her house, she plopped down on her couch and buried her face in her hands. She sat there wondering what had happened to her and the life she had worked so hard to perfect. For the life of her she couldn’t figure out where she went wrong, and every time she thought of it, she got no closer to figuring it out. After a few moments of sitting there, tears began to roll down her face.Whether they were tears of sadness or tears of anger was hard to determine. All Jordan knew was she felt like she was failing. Her home life was bad, and even things at work were bad, and she didn’t know if she had it in her to fight her way back to the top anymore.

Moments later, Jordan heard a noise. She lifted her head off the taupe throw pillow she was resting on, then listened harder to see if she heard it again. As she laid there completely still, listening,she saw a figure in her peripheral vision. She looked toward the doorway and screamed. Somewhere in the midst of her panic attack, she noticed that it was Jayon. He was standing there laughing at the scare he’d put into Jordan, although she was not yet laughing back. His five feet eleven, 195-pound frame filled the doorway, and he was dressed in blue jeans, Sean John sneakers, and an Akademiks rugby.

“Where have you been?” Jordan began.

“I was at my meetings late.”

Jordan scanned his outfit, and obviously enough for him to notice. “You were at meetings dressed like that?”

“Jordan. I went home to change first. What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? You couldn’t call, Jayon? I’ve been here waiting on you ... that’s what’s wrong with me.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Jayon ... I called your cell phone like three times.”

“Oh, must’ve been bad reception where I had my meetings,’cause I didn’t see them.”

Jordan gave him a look of doubt, a look of disappointment. It was apparent that she wanted more than anything to blurt out, “Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think you can tell me anything?” and go off on a rant. However, she just communicatedher thoughts through the look on her face.

“What?” Jayon asked with a smirk.

“Nothing, Jayon. You’re making it a joke, and it’s not funny,” Jordan said as she stood up and went to grab the remote off the entertainment center.

“What’s not funny?”

“Nothing, Jayon. Forget it. Play stupid. That’s fine.”

Jordan sat down and pushed POWER on the remote.

“What? You in here sulking like I did something to you.”

Jordan was kind of upset that Jayon found her like that. She hated to look weak.

“I wasn’t sulking, Jayon. Don’t flatter yourself,” Jordan said with conviction, knowing dang well she was just sulking.

“Whatever, J,” he said as he walked upstairs.

Jordan sat there frustrated as hell. A piece of her wanted to just break, say everything that was on her mind, including the not-so-nice stuff. But she also didn’t want the drama or the argument,and she knew Jayon would say she was looking for the negative because he would think he had done nothing wrong. Jordan sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the television but paying attention to nothing on the screen. Her thoughts were all over the place, beginning with the curiosity of how she ever became so accepting of her and Jayon’s situation.

Jordan could hear footsteps coming back down the stairs. She pretended that the television had her attention and that she was relaxing. Jayon came into the living room dressed in a white sleeveless T-shirt and black sweat shorts, he apparently got comfortable since he assumed their plans were shot. Jordan had assumed that he was upstairs changing. She was tempted to ask him who said their plans were cancelled, but she was aware that her attitude probably said it. After Jayon walked around for a bit doing whatever he was doing, he eventually sat beside Jordan on the couch.

“Want to watch a movie?” he asked.

Jordan paused before she answered. She wanted to say “not really,” but instead she calmly answered, “OK.”

Jayon put his hand out for the remote, and she handed it to him. Jayon turned to the movies on demand channel and began looking for a movie to watch.

“See anything you want to see?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Jordan replied.

Jayon kept channel surfing.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to change while you find something,” Jordan said as she stood up from the couch.

Jayon didn’t reply, he just steadily moved through the movie listings as Jordan headed up the stairs. Jordan was trying to remaincalm and put aside all of her emotions. Jayon had the abilityto suppress all drama even when there was a need to address it. Jordan could admit that it helped their overall relationship from being filled with drama, but Jordan also knew that a lot of things festered between them, and that wasn’t healthy. She also knew it didn’t make sense to bother to bring up how late he was now that she had agreed to watch a movie with him.

Jordan opened one of the drawers to her pajama dresser and pulled out her Victoria’s Secret pink boxer pajama set. She started taking off her clothes and began to genuinely calm down. Usually, changing out of clothes that she had put on to go somewherewithout having gone to that place would be enough to upset her. She was feeling that way too, until she realized it could have been worse. He could’ve come even later or not at all. She tried to look at the bright side—they were going to spend a quiet evening at home.

Jordan hung her dress back up in the closet for another night, since it didn’t get its night out. As she closed the closet door, Jayon’s jeans fell to the floor. Jordan bent over to pick them up, and a piece of paper fell out along with some money. Jordan started picking the items up when she noticed handwritingon the paper. The investigator in her instantly glanced over it. Written on it was “Nicole” and a phone number. Jordanlooked at the paper a few seconds longer for any clues as to where it came from. It was on a torn piece of plain white paper, and there was nothing else written on it. Jordan proceededto return the items to his pocket while she felt herself begin to boil with anger. She knew that it seemed as if Jayon had gotten some girl’s number in an attempt to “get to know her better.” Just the mere thought of addressing him over this number felt so high school. Besides, she knew there were a million legit excuses that Jayon could give, like it was a business colleague or an old friend. So Jordan decided to choose her battlesand let this one go, or at least save it for a later date.

Jordan made her way back downstairs, the whole time telling herself repetitively to let it go. By the time she made it to the couch where Jayon was sitting, she hadn’t completely erased the negative thoughts from her head, but she was still trying.

“You ready?” Jayon said as he pointed the remote at the television to unpause the movie on the screen.

“Mm-hmm,” Jordan responded.

Jayon hit the PAUSE button. “This is that movie I was telling you about with the clones. It’s called The Island,” Jayon said as he scooted back to get comfortable on the couch. “Want to make some popcorn?”

“Not really,” Jordan answered.

She had been silently wishing that Jayon would stop talking to her so she wouldn’t have to struggle to hide her anger.

“You don’t want popcorn while watching a movie? OK, that’s a first,” Jayon said.

Jordan didn’t reply. She just kept looking at the television screen, which was showing the opening credits. She watched the boat ride across the water on the screen, and then all of a sudden the screen froze. Jordan looked over at Jayon, and he had the remote in his hand, pointing it at the television.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“Nothing, Jayon. Turn it back on.”

“You are acting mad funny, and you’re saying nothing is wrong.”

“Jayon, nothing’s wrong. I am just tired.”

“Tired?”

“Yes, tired.”

“OK, if you want me to believe that, I’ll let it go.”

Something snapped in Jordan’s mind. She was tired of being nice and holding her tongue, and since he insisted, she figured she’d let him know.

“Who is Nicole?” Jordan blurted out.

“What?” Jayon asked, looking totally confused.

“Who is Nicole?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what, Jayon, I don’t even want to talk about it. Because in all honesty, I don’t know if I can trust whatever you tell me anyway.”

“Where is all this coming from?”

“You show up hours after you were supposed to, acting like it’s nothing, having no regard for the fact that I was here dressed and waiting for you; then I go upstairs to change and a phone number falls out of your pocket. I just don’t even know what to think anymore,” Jordan rambled on.

“That was a client,” Jayon said.

Jordan giggled. She laughed because she was expecting something like that.

“What is so funny?”

“I just thought you would say something like that, that’s all.”

“Well, Jordan, how can I win then? Why’d you ask?”

“I tried not to, but you insisted on asking me what was wrong.”

“Well, I’m sorry for being concerned.”

“I wish you were concerned with keeping me waiting for hours.”

“Jordan, I said sorry. I was held up at work. What do you want me to do?”

“Call, e-mail, something.You come in late, I couldn’t get a hold of you, you didn’t try to contact me, and then you have numbers in your pocket. Really, Jay—what do you want me to think?”

“It’s not about what I want you to think. I can only tell you what I’ve told you.What you choose to think is your own decision,” Jayon said as he hit the PAUSE button and the movie started again.

“It’s that very nonchalance that makes me think the way I do even more.”

“Whatever,” Jayon responded.

Now Jordan was pissed. She hated when Jayon just shut down, when he decided that he was done talking about something.She was upset that she even broke her silence, because now she was more upset than she had been from the start, and Jayon’s attitude was only going to make it harder to calm down.

The opening scene of the movie started, and Jayon was sittingwith his feet kicked up on the ottoman, while Jordan had one foot up on the couch and the other on the floor. They were sitting at opposite ends of the couch, both watching the movie.

Jordan was tempted to stop faking the funk and walk her black butt upstairs. She was barely paying attention to the movie anyway, because she was still trying to lower her blood pressure. When she thought about it more, she realized that it was possible that going upstairs was only going to make it a bigger deal. She told herself not to even stress it. Jayon wanted to play innocent and play little games; two could play at that.

By the time Chrasey sat down and requested the drink menu, she looked up and saw Jordan walking in. She instantlysmiled at the sight of Ms. Moore walking toward her in her power suit and carrying a black Louis Vuitton briefcase. Jordan had that typical look of the successful black woman, and it always amused Chrasey to think of how the world would react if it really knew she had issues just like the rest of us.

Jordan glanced around the restaurant, smiling at a few people,until she finally spotted Chrasey sitting at a table in the middle of the room. The Cheesecake Factory on a Friday night got pretty crowded, but the food and drinks were worth it. Jordan made her way to the table where Chrasey sat, and she instantly placed her briefcase and purse in the booth and walked off.

“Gotta go to the bathroom,” she blurted.

Chrasey giggled and buried her face in the drink menu that the waiter had just brought over. She was beginning to narrow it down as to what her drink for the night would be, when she heard someone close by clearing their throat.

“Look at you.” After debating if she wanted to squeeze onto the bench or sit at the chairs facing the bench, she muttered, “You’re turning into an alcoholic.” She pulled a chair out from the table.

“Ha ha ha, Missy ... you are teaching me well,” Chrasey replied.

“Where’s Jordan?” Dakota asked, gesturing toward the briefcasesitting on the bench.

“She is in the bathroom.”

“Oh. Well, what’re you drinking?”

“I’m thinking a Mai Tai.”

“I’ll take that too,” Dakota said.

At that mome. . .