Please don’t go there. I don’t have the patience for groupie energy.
“And as we all know,” Quincy continued, “...both Stenton and Erika are brands and even in social arrangements such as this, would like to maintain and protect their businesses. I understand that Erika has a few conditions she’d like shared up front.”
“Yes, we do,” Ellis, Erika’s mother, who was equally as beautiful as her daughter with rich olive skin and jet black hair cut into a trendy pixie style, piped out. She opened the flap of her portfolio and pulled out a document. “It’s not much, but very important that Mr. Rogers, here, adhere to. First,” she pointed her shiny black nail on the paper. “...we need a sexually transmitted infections report from the past three years. Erika’s is included along with the press packet and other information we’re submitting to your team today. Also, Erika’s allergic to latex. Here’s a list of condoms that she prefers, as well as those she’s allergic to. While Erika’s on birth control, sometimes my daughter can get a bit...overzealous in relationships and forget to use good judgment. Condoms until there’s a ring presented and approved by me.”
I hiked a brow at that one. Who the fuck did she think was giving her daughter a ring? And running up in Erika Erceg raw was never on my bucket list. I’d just hope her * still held its natural elasticity considering all the cocks she’d been known to have had in it.
Shit.
That thought made me think of Zoey’s wiseass crack to Tynisha her first time at my apartment in Philly.
Damn.
Zoey.
“Last but not least, there are no pictures to be shared of Erika on social media that have not been cleared by my staff first. She has an image to protect that is in tandem with her earnings. She can’t be photo’d first thing in the morning with her hair going each way. If so, there goes her L’Oreal contract.”
This shit is unreal. What mother negotiates her daughter’s sex life? Why is she even privy to that? I mean, Quincy and Jackson was one thing, but a mother is supposed to protect her daughter from hungry men. I don’t know if it was me getting old or the fact that I’d been exposed to new people, but I couldn’t see Sarah advocating Zoey’s casual sex life. Shit is crazy!
“Well received and understood. I don’t foresee Mr. Rogers taking grievance with any of those,” Quincy glanced over at me. I didn’t move to motion either way. He pushed a sheet of paper across the table. “We actually have a few stipulations that are non-negotiable. The crux of them being privacy. Mr. Rogers will not participate in any episodes of “Envying the Ercegs” neither will there be any use of his name or image for ratings or advertisements. Also, there will be no official interviews.”
Ellis’ smile dropped immediately and she regarded me. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Rogers. “Envying the Ercegs” is the second highest rated show on the network.” Her words resembled whining more than immodesty.
“That’s all fine and well, but Mr. Rogers must stay in compliance with the National Basketball Association’s code of conduct. As we are all aware, he’s made great strides with cleaning up his image and we don’t need any regression in that by mere association. He’s a private man and prefers keeping the inner workings of his life that way. I’m sure you understand when I say if you have any rebuttals we can kiss this whole agreement goodbye.”
There was a tentative pause at the table. Ellis sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. Quincy angled his chin in the air. Erika’s eyes pensively bounced between Quincy, her mother and me. Her nose twitched, she looked prepared to burst into tears. The other two men in their party never uttered a word, only watched Ellis in play.