Page 16 of The Best Man: Unfinished Business

Chapter Seven

Harper

What’s the big idea?? The big idea… Stan had challenged him to dazzle the studio executives with a so-called big idea. All Harper had so far was a story, his story, a meaningful one that held the lives and dreams of him and his closest friends.

“How the hell am I supposed to know what the big idea is?” Harper mused aloud in frustration.

He’d been glad to see his friends that evening.

They were his encouragement, his inspiration, and now, especially for this project, his motivation.

Nonetheless, the time had cost him a late-night return to his project to meet his deadline.

Still, with the focus on the big idea, he was able to push the distractions of the evening out of his mind: unexpected news… about Robyn…and Jordan.

What’s the big idea?

Okay…What if we all stayed around the same city when we graduated? Johnson gets drafted by the DC team—they were the Bullets then…

“When did the Bullets change to the Wizards?” Harper said aloud as he typed the line into his search engine.

Okay, the year is 1997. Johnson gets drafted. Then he and Casey get married and all the college friends come to town for their wedding…. No. Too close to home. Make something up. Use your imagination, asshole. Harper’s inner voice was often harsh when his muse was being elusive.

What’s the big idea? Harper took a seat at his desk and tapped a pen on the surface.

His living room was littered with diagrams, outlines, corkboards with index cards with small ideas, scene descriptions, and pieces of dialogue, but nothing that really coalesced.

What’s the big idea? he asked himself again.

Harper had tried many incarnations of a story that followed up on this group of college friends.

Unfinished Business ended at graduation.

How was he going to continue this story as some Black post-graduate St. Elmo’s Fire –type of narrative?

The studio often referenced the iconic Brat Pack movie of the eighties with then-teen-heartthrobs Rob Lowe, Emilio Estevez, and Demi Moore.

What could Harper say about his characters in a sequel that honored his original work but gave the studio the hook they expected? And delivered the moviegoing audience the story they wanted to see? It seemed like an impossible task.

What’s the big idea? “I don’t know!” Harper yelled.

These were the frustrations of being a writer.

The long nights of solitude. In these invisible times, aside from the public moments of accolades and star treatment as a bestselling author, it wasn’t always easy to pry brilliance from his overactive mind.

Stop thinking. Stop. Just write. It doesn’t matter what.

Just write. Harper placed his hands on the keyboard and began to type.

Jackson and Kendall have had sex. They crossed the line, but do they make it as a couple? Casey and Johnson did. Cleavon went to law school and Darby stuck by him. Or does she? Do they break up? What about Flave?

Would that mess with Shelby (Darby) and Quentin (Flave) now?

Shit. This is so difficult. Harper stopped typing. Quentin and Shelby were okay with everything he’d crafted to date. Murch, though, he hated Cleavon. I hated Cleavon too, Harper thought. But now I can fix that…

Jordan seemed fine with Kendall. Jordan … how could she not call me…? Stop thinking, Harper. Just write.

The studio wanted these characters to remain the same and to catch up to them a year or two later.

But people evolve, people change. People don’t remain the same or go backward…

. Nobody. Goes. Backward. Goes Backward?

Wait. Go back … What were these characters’ original plans? And suddenly an idea sparked.

It’s five years after graduation. JACKSON is now a sports personality, covering Johnson’s basketball career with the Wizards.

Okay…

Jackson’s a sportscaster making his living in FRONT of the camera.

When Harper arrived on Westmore’s campus he was aiming to be part of the school’s prestigious broadcast journalism program and felt he was destined for a career in front of the camera.

But it turned out that his skill with the spoken word wasn’t as honed as he believed.

In fact, he was a disaster. The cool, collected, and polished author, who only forty-eight hours ago recommended must reads to a nationwide audience with charm and wit, had been a quivering mess when it came time to audition for the competitive program.

He was soundly rejected and summarily excused because he didn’t have “It.” But that’s what happened to Harper.

After graduation, Jackson could have decided to make a shift back to his true passion.

Harper began frantically typing again, trying to make his fingers move fast enough to capture the idea rapidly taking shape.

Jackson thought he was destined to be a journalist, but a career altering twist of fate shifted his chosen path. While interning at the local newsroom a beautiful no, sexy, no, HOT female producer took a liking to Jackson’s chiseled physique and handsome face striking facial features.

She declared, “You belong in front of the camera.” Jackson agreed and after a short, but torrid love affair with her, a make-over and personal trainer, he became a local celebrity being wooed by the National News outlets.

Jackson had never given up on his desire to be a news personality.

Bryant Gumbel started in sports, so did Robin Roberts.

Al Roker was a weatherman—still is, but also an invaluable part of the morning team.

“Jackson could have gone that route,” Harper said out loud as he typed the words. “Hell, I could have.” Bullshit. There was that negative inner voice. Harper pushed it away and kept flowing…

Then, after a five-year stint filled with money, notoriety, LOTS of GLORY PUSSY and on the precipice of true stardom as the host of the local morning show, JACKSON is full of himself and KENDALL is the news producer brought in from Chicago, no, New York, no Los Angeles to revamp the broadcast!

This is good, Harper thought…And every one of the crew could still be part of the narrative.

Of course, this hiring takes Jackson by surprise.

Just when he finally gets a promotion and his own way of doing things, here comes Kendall with her own agenda to upend his entire world.

She’s made quite a name for herself on the West Coast. Moving and shaking with the biggest names behind the scenes in the broadcast space.

Of course, there’s friction because they haven’t spoken or been in touch in quite some time.

They left—or rather—SHE left on weird terms. She kind of disappeared… .

Just like Jordan…

She’s powerful. She’s beautiful. She’s a ballbuster. She hasn’t spoken to Jackson in five years and she’s MARRIED!

Married?! How could she be? She was never on that. Maybe she had a moment of weakness. Maybe the dude swept her off her feet. Maybe he’s a white dude…

Married, but not happily. Turns out she should have stayed the course because the chemistry between Kendall and Jackson is as palpable as it ever was.

Best sex either of them ever had.

The news program goes through twists and turns. Kendall and Jackson feud over the show’s direction, have late-night meetings, have hot office sex and that tension spills over into the workplace. At first, it’s detrimental to the ratings, Jackson blames her, Kendall blames him.

…lots of sexual tension. This is gonna work….

Harper’s fingers began blazing across the keyboard.

He let himself get lost in the story’s potential and the freedom of the late hour fueled by his own creativity and alkaline water.

Coffee, Red Bull, and caffeinated colas couldn’t match the internal burning fire when Harper’s muse took over.

Only when his fingers started aching and the cacophony of ideas trickled to a halt was when the real Kendall entered his consciousness again.

Jordan.

How’s she gonna come to town and not call me? I thought we were in a good place….

The whole crew went to his Pulitzer ceremony a year ago for Pieces Of Us.

Robyn even sent Mia to celebrate with her father.

They all had a lot of laughs. It was then that Harper discoveredJordan had moved to Malibu.

He’d been hermitting and leaning into the pain he was feeling while he wrote that epic love story.

She said it was brilliant. She said it made her cry.

And cheer.“The best thing you’ve ever written, Harp.

Full stop,” she said. The world agreed. But she was back in his life.

It was beginning to feel like it had in college.

Besties, but more mature…with more experience and gray hair.

Homies again…until late December when she backed out of attending Lance’s New Year’s Eve party.

The break was abrupt. Maybe it was too much of a painful reminder during the holidays that they’d lost Mia Morgan, Lance’s first wife and Jordan’s best friend, and Jordan was trying to “protect her peace.” Whatever it was, there was a shift. He feltit.

Maybe she’s busy? Sure. And Harper was feeling lonely—maybe extra lonely these days. Still, he wondered. And wanted to see her. He missed her. But… she came to town and didn’t reach out?

“What’s up with that?” Harper asked out loud.

“Fuck it.” Enough wondering. Call her. Call her and call her out.

They had that kind of rapport. Didn’t they?

They did. Was that still the case? Why not now?

Why was it weird? Call her ass right now.

Harper willed himself to action. The time stamp on his computer read 2:57 a.m. Almost midnight in Malibu. She could still beup.

No need to overthink…

Harper was scheduled to go to LA for a book signing for the paperback release of Pieces Of U s.

And the studio meeting about the Unfinished Business sequel that was suddenly looking promising.

Now that he had an idea, he was getting amped about it.

The studio’s requested face-to-face had been fucking scary at the beginning of the night, but now he was empowered.

Face-to-face is always better. Body language, eye contact, pauses, etc.

He liked that. A genuine connection is what Harper preferred…

. Wait, was he thinking about the studio or Jordan?

Both, I guess. Fuck it. He picked up his phone to craft a text to Jordan.

I’m coming to town for some meetings and I want to…I’d like to…I’d love to …if you’re free, let’s get drinks or dinner…

Yeah.

Send.

Jordan didn’t respond. No response, no text bubbles.

She’ll respond tomorrow, Harper told himself. Even if she doesn’t, don’t sweat it. The text went through and when you get to LA, text her again. Call her. No way I’m going to her neck of the woods and not call. Be the bigger man, Harp.

12:04 a.m. in Malibu. Harper twisted the corner of his mouth, let out a tiny teeth suck and shook off the non-response.

3:04 a.m. 8:04 a.m. in Accra. Time to call Mia before school.

He was usually up writing anyway and would often check in at this time.

He wanted his daughter to see his face and hear his voice as much as possible.

Based on the disclosures at dinner, he had plenty to check in on.

Robyn. He wished her well, genuinely. Though he never agreed with her decision to move to Ghana, especially since that decision meant taking their daughter, Mia, with her.

What’s so wrong with living here? Robyn always had a way of moving to the next thing, as if it held a better future for her, maybe just because it was…

new. And now, a new person. Seeing someone, right? But, who?