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There was a long pause over the line. Finally, Gary said, “Thanks for tellin’ me, man. Good lookin’ out.”
“You got it.”
* * *
Less than a fifteen-minute drive away, Gary took a deep breath, exhaled, and looked down at his cell phone in muscular brown hands.
“Is this young bitch out here trying to play me?” he mumbled to himself. He called her number and waited . . . for no answer. Then he texted her.
Yo what you doing? You still coming through?
Again, there was no answer. Then she texted him back.
Something came up. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Gary smiled and nodded, deviously. “Yeah, this young bitch must think I’m a sucker. Okay.”
He stood up from his sofa, where he watched a Thursday Night Football game on a large flat-screen TV. He had clicked the volume on mute for his cell phone call.
Thick like a nightclub bouncer in a tight-fitting, dark blue T-shirt, he rubbed the knuckles of his right hand with sinister thoughts in mind. But he tried his best to shake them off.
“Nah . . . I’m gon’ leave this girl alone . . . before somebody get hurt out here.”
CHARLES CLAY
Reflection 19
CRIMES OF THE HEART ARE PARTICULARLY DANGEROUS, AND THEY are often committed spontaneously. When our human emotions get all twisted up, look out. We don’t tend to think straight in those moments, while hit by a wave of anxieties that we don’t know how to handle. So, we end up making reckless decisions out of fury that we live to regret. And sometimes . . . we may not live through it at all, depending on who we affronted.
But Charles lived, with a whole lot of nervous apprehension that he could have avoided with better decisions. And when he entered his studio office on Monday morning, he lacked his normal calm swagger, replaced by a skittish energy.
“Are we still on schedule for today?” his pretty-faced assistant asked from his office doorway.
“Huh?” Charles uttered with his head on a swivel. He wasn’t ready to receive her that morning. His mind was still in a clouded haze from his recent events with women.
The thick-bodied assistant in her late twenties smiled and looked down at her watch. “You were supposed to have a conference call at ten thirty, and it’s now a quarter of eleven. So, I was wondering if the schedule had changed.”
“Oh, shit! Get me on that call!” he panicked.
His assistant smiled, calmly. “Okay. Not a problem.”
She disappeared to her workstation to set up the call.
Charles took a deep breath and sat in his office chair, attempting to relax. “All right, new day, new money,” he told himself.
As soon as his office line buzzed, he picked up the phone and got back to work.
“Charles, have you seen the new production budget?”
It was a Black woman, his co-producer on film projects, who was all about business with no small talk.
Charles hesitated. “What’s wrong with it?” He hadn’t seen the new film budget yet. He immediately opened his laptop on his desk to have a look, as the producer went into it.
“They are fucking us again! They always do this with Black films. I am so fucking tired of this!” she ranted.
Charles couldn’t get his emails to open fast enough. “Well, what’s the number?” he asked as he continued to wait for his computer to respond.
“Two point two million.”
Charles listened and paused. “Well, that’s not that bad. It qualifies us for the tax break.”
“Yeah, and that’s all it does. So, it’s obvious that’s all they wanted to do. They just wanna get their fucking money back! They don’t care about this film,” she continued to rant over the line.
Charles began to smile and returned to his calm swagger. His composure was a big reason why he had been able to sustain success as a Black filmmaker. He never allowed the drama over money or the smaller details to distract him from the bigger goal of directing a good film. As long as the money was there, and it was a good project, he was available to direct.
“Jackie, calm down,” he told her. “Of course they want their money back. That’s why they’re investing.”
“Well, we need to find more people who like what we’re doing. We’re not amateurs anymore. That’s barely half of what he needed.”
“And we’ll make it work as always,” he assured her.
“But I’m tired of that ‘making-it-work’ shit! We’ve been doing that for eight years now!” Jackie barked. “We need to move the hell up the ladder. That’s like working the same job for eight years and never getting a raise. You gotta start thinking bigger than that, Charles. Or they’re always gonna try to get us for cheap.”
Charles exhaled and sunk back into his chair. He was getting tired of hearing his partner’s ranting over money and elevation. He figured they were both in their thirties and still had plenty of time to grow. But if she was in a rush . . . then maybe she needed to partner with someone else.
He said, “Making films is not all about the hype, the cars, fancy clothes, and all of that stuff. It’s about the craft of getting a product done correctly. And that’s what we’ve been doing.” Then he paused, before he made an ass of himself. “Maybe you need to pull back on some of the extravagant expenses that you have. I mean, you didn’t have to buy that condo, or the loaded Range Rover.”
Jackie heard that and said, “Excuse me? Mr. Fuck Everything That Moves. I do very well with my money. Have you forgotten about my real estate? I got that damn condo on a deal! A great damn deal at that. And my car? Okay, I splurged on that. But I’ve been working my ass off for you on these films, and that’s what you got to say to me for trying to move you up the ladder for bigger and better projects?
“You got some fuckin’ nerve!” she blasted him. “All you seem to think about is pussy and getting your little ding-dong licked. And it’s gon’ come back to bite you in the ass. You think I don’t know about these little fucking girls you keep dealing with? You gotta get that shit off your mind and get back to the business. But you so satisfied with getting pussy now, that nothing else matters.
“What, you couldn’t get none in high school and college, so now you try’na make up for it in the film game?” she went on. “It’s sick, Charles. And you need to get a grip on that shit if we all trying to be honest. I thought you said you was gon’ go and get some help for that.”
It got real quiet over the line as Charles felt hot and immobile in his chair. How much did his production partner know about his reckless jump-offs? He was even ready to ask her. But she didn’t give him a chance to.
“Now let’s do this conference call and get back to business. We’re a half hour late now,” she told him. “Hold on . . .”
Embarrassingly, Charles took another deep breath as he awaited the conference call connection.
“Okay, Renald, this is Jackie and Charles on the line,” his partner announced.
“Hey, guys,” Renald responded.
“Hey, Renald,” Charles chimed in.
“Yup, we’re all here,” Jackie stated. She jumped right back into the business. “So, we took a look at the new budget, and it’s like . . .” She left it open for Renald to explain it on his own.
“Yeah, we ah, honestly have multiple projects going on at the same time, and that’s all we’re able to allocate for this one. But we wanted to make sure that we had enough there to qualify for the tax break,” Renald explained.
“Yeah, I see that,” Jackie responded. “So, if we were to come back in another four to six months, what would that number look like then?”
“Ahhh, it would actually go down in four to six months. And we’d have to wait until the top of next year to do anything more than that.”
“And how much more would that be? Because we’d really like to keep more of the beef on the project to get more of a return for all of us,” Jackie countered.
“Yeah, I fought for that, but ultimately, we wanted to do what we could to get this thing moving forward. So, if you have any other partners you could bring to the table, we’d consider that, as long as they understand that we eat first,” Renald negotiated.
“Oh, of course, you put the money up first. That’s understood,” Jackie told him.
“But one of the reasons why we agreed to work with you and Charles is because of your experience in getting projects done under budget,” Renald added. “We’ve heard nothing but great things about your productions.”
“Oh, yeah, we do a great job. We’re very proud of what we’ve done,” Jackie commented.
“And we’d like to keep moving up,” Charles decided to add, cheerfully. He was strategically letting his partner know that he agreed with her. It was time to elevate their product.
“At the same time, we value all of our new relationships,” Jackie hinted. It was the game of the film business, and they knew how to play it.
“We love that. That’s why we agreed to work with you guys,” Renald responded.
Jackie said, “Yeah, we’ve really mastered the domestic film market at this point and look forward to a more global reach, where the numbers really become advantageous to our investors with international support. That’s what Charles is really looking forward to.”
“You gotta travel out of the country and get them to know and love your work up in Canada, over in London, Dubai, France, Africa, China. I’m ready to travel,” Charles plugged in.
Renald chuckled and said, “Well, we’ll ah . . . see how this first film goes and then see what we can offer for the next one.”
“That’s what we wanna hear,” Jackie responded enthusiastically. “So, we’ll crunch these numbers, see what corners we can cut, what favors we can call in, and what other partners we can bring to the table to get this thing done.”
“Well, all right. That’s what we like to hear,” Renald countered.
Once they ended the conference call with the investor, Jackie spoke to Charles, alone again.
“Okay, we’re gonna do this one deal with them, and if they don’t up the ante on the next one, we move on. Because they have a lot more money than what they’re offering us. And they’re probably putting more on the table right now for their other deals. I guaran-tee it,” Jackie insisted.
Charles nodded and agreed with her again. “You’re right. I bet they are investing more in their other films.”
“You know they are. That’s a billion-dollar company playing the bullshit game. They’re teasing us with a fuckin’ chicken bone,” she barked. “And I’m tired of it. So, that’s it! We do this film to increase our reputation, and we move on.”
Charles continued to nod in his chair, realizing that he needed her. His partner was a beast at the business! She always got it done.
“Okay,” he mumbled meekly.
Jackie told him, “And I apologize for what I said earlier, but you have to realize who you’re talking to. I’m not one of these little starry-eyed girls you’re dealing with. I know how this shit really works ’cause I’ve been doing it. And it ain’t fucking magic! It’s a whole lot of hard work and compromising. So, please get your head out of your crotch so you don’t fuck this all up. You have to learn to control your urges.”
What could the man say? He listened to his partner’s rant of truth serum and exhaled. “Okay. You’re right,” he mumbled.
“All right, I’ll talk to you later. I got twenty more phone calls to make now to get this shit done.”
Charles hung up the line and felt mentally and spiritually exhausted. He had no idea what he had coming to him that morning. Jackie had just jumped in his ass. But he deserved it and needed it.
He sat back in his chair and mumbled, “Yeah . . . I need to give Dr. Victoria Benning a call . . . and follow up with her.”
JOSEPH DRAKE
Reflection 20
JOSEPH DRAKE BEAT CHARLES TO THE CALL THAT MORNING.
“Hey, ah, Dr. Benning, you got a minute to talk?”
I looked over at my schedule on the desk and grinned. “I got fifteen,” I told him. Hell, I had an hour if he needed it. But I knew how to play the game like he did. The less time you had the more seriously businessmen took the call.
“I just wanted you to know I’m still working on that for ya,” he began.
“I know you are. It takes time. I understand.”
I was in a good mood and passing that spirit on to Joe. I was glad he had called me that morning.
He said, “You know, I’ve never been married,” with a chuckle. His revelation just came out of nowhere.
I paused. “Okay.” I needed to understand where he was going with it before I jumped to any conclusions.
He said, “I have a couple of kids though.”
Talk about confessions. I paused again. One of the main skills of my work was being able to listen without judgment. You just allow the information to tumble forward. Then you deal with it cautiously.
“Okay. How old are they now?” I asked him.
“One is seventeen and on her way to college next year. The other is twelve. And both of them are real sweethearts.”
“I bet they are,” I responded. “So, what’s the problem?”
Since he brought it up, I figured he wanted to discuss it.
“They’re both biracial, and I feel guilty about not marrying either one of their mothers,” he revealed.
And the plot thickened. Joe had a lot of bones in the closet that he was still trying to deal with. But I couldn’t do it all in just fifteen minutes.
“Would you like to set up another session?” I asked him. “That sounds deeper than the surface.”
“I know, right? I would need an hour or more for that.”
“At least. What’s your schedule look like for Wednesday or Thursday?”
“I can figure out how to get an hour. What’s best for you, morning, afternoon, or evening?”
“Let’s knock it out in the morning,” I told him. “You’re available on Wednesday?”
“Yeah, I can make that happen.”
“Around ten?”
“Let’s do it. That’s my coffee hour.”
“Cream or black?” I joked to him.
“Ahhh, is that a trick question?” he asked with another chuckle.
“Depending on how you take it,” I responded, grinning.
He said, “Well, both of them are not white, right? And they’re not really black either. They’re just various shades of brown.”
He took it deeper than I thought he would.
“Okay, I follow that. So, which brown is it for you?” I asked him, curiously. “Light, dark, or medium?”
He laughed. “Ahhh . . . I like ’em all.”
I figured he would say that. As a White man with money, he could afford to be versatile.
“You just won’t marry any of them,” I commented. I couldn’t help myself. And I immediately felt bad about it.
“Yeah . . . that’s what we’ll need to talk about,” he responded civilly. “But I didn’t marry any white coffee either,” he added.
I decided to change the subject to end on a good note. “So, how are the conversations going on financing a minority entertainment project?”
He paused. “Well, let’s just say that the group is very familiar with the popularity of African-American sports and entertainment. But . . . we might be better off pushing something that deals with education. That’s where their heads are at right now,” he informed me.
I nodded. Education was more about charity than business. It was rich White men preparing young minorities to work for them. But I rolled with the punch anyway. It was not the battle to fight that morning. I understood that my goal was a process.
“Okay, we’ll talk about it when you’re ready. And I’ll be prepared for it,” I told him. “So, we’ll talk on Wednesday at ten.”
“Will do.”
* * *
Joe had a younger sister in her late thirties still living up in Massachusetts who he liked to bounce his ideas off of, particularly when he felt the difficult pressures of life. He knew there was no politics or positioning involved when he spoke to her. She was married with her own family and her own money, and she had nothing to gain from bullshitting her older brother. He knew he could always get a straight answer from her.
“Hey, Katherine, how’s your day going?” he called and asked her. It was one of those mornings where he kicked back in his office with some heavy things on his mind.
“Hey, Joe, I’m fine. How’s your day going?” his sister responded, cheerfully. That was a good thing. She was in a good mood as well. He could hear it in her voice.
Joe said, “I’ve had better days. But I’m healthy.”
“Yeah, so what’s on your mind? You’re not calling me mid-morning for nothing.”
It was her brother. She knew Joe was not one for small talk. Every conversation would eventually lead where he wanted it to go. So, he cut through the chase.
“Have you ever wondered why I’ve never gotten married with kids?” he asked his sister.
“Hmmph,” she grunted. “You mean with your commitment phobias? You’ve never wanted to give a woman that much control over your life, right? It’s the whole ball and chain theory. But you’re gonna have to trust someone. Or just keep dating your whole life if that’s what your goal is.”
Katherine wasn’t particularly concerned about it. It was his life to live, not hers. She was very happy with her married life with kids, and she still managed to keep a full-time job from her home office, while dropping the kids off at school in the mornings.
“Those aren’t exactly my plans,” Joe responded.
“Well, what are your plans? You’re forty-four years old now, Joe.”
“I know that. I’m keeping score. That’s why I’m asking you what you think about it this morning,” he commented.
“So, does that mean you’ve had a recent change of heart?”
Joe smiled, setting back in his office chair. “Maybe. I’m thinking about it. I got a few things running through my mind.”
