The Brand

by M. N Providence

  * * * * *

  The Vermuelen Group of Companies had 47 grocery stores in Cape Town. The company had bought vacant plots of land in various parts of the city, which it would develop into mini shopping arcades, as well as unused buildings which it would strip down and build new stores. The VGC CEO went around town, inspecting these investments, all at differing levels of development. His stay at the Mother City lasted five days – the whole working week from Monday to Friday. He left Cape Town on an evening flight and arrived at Johannesburg’s OR Tambo International airport on the same night that Joelyn departed South Africa, bound for the United States of America.

  Hudson picked up his Audi A8 from the airport’s paid-for parking lot and drove it straight to Samantha’s Morningside townhouse, located inside a gated community. Mr. Vermuelen already a familiar face to the gate-guards, he was let into the townhouse complex without fuss. He parked his car in front of Samantha’s townhouse and phoned her. He woke her from deep sleep. She opened the door for him, mumbled a hello and went straight back to bed. Hudson went to her liquor cabinet and poured himself a brandy over ice, then he joined her in the bedroom. He took off his clothes and slipped into bed next to her. His penis became instantly erect when he made contact with her body. He turned her and she protested lightly, offering little resistance as he climbed on top of her and slipped his erection between her thighs. In a moment, she was fully awake and they were both panting with their labor of love.

  Afterwards, they lay in each other’s arms in the semi-darkness of the room. Stroking the overnight stubble that was forming itself into a beard on his chin, Samantha yawned. ‘Joe was here…actually, she was using the other bedroom during her stay here.’

  Hudson offered a weak “Oh.”

  ‘I didn’t tell her about us.’

  ‘Why not? Joelyn’s my ex. You and I are two consenting adults. We aren’t doing anything wrong, are we?’

  ‘How do you think it’s gonna sound to her if I tell her that I’m fucking her ex-husband? It’s crazy.’

  ‘I don’t see a problem—.’

  ‘I do. And I think you should clarify something for me before I put my neck on the chopping block for Joelyn to strike—.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘How far are you willing to take this relationship?...You and me, in case you’re confused.’

  He hesitated a moment too long.

  ‘That’s all I need to hear,’ Samantha said sarcastically.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sam. You caught me unawares. I need a bit of time to think about us.’

  ‘You don’t need time to decide if you love someone or not. You know it without thinking. Besides, time is a commodity I don’t have. You see, Joe has asked me to join her in the States and be her accountant. I’ve got only this weekend to make my decision.’

  2013: SECOND CHANCES

  Chapter 1

  The Bahamas

  Chris Healey made his marriage proposal to Jansen under a beautiful moonlight on a privately-owned beach in the Bahamas. The engagement ring was a small but expensive diamond held in place by a gold band that fit perfectly around the middle finger of Jansen’s left hand. There is nothing as pleasant to a woman as receiving confirmation from a man she loves that he wants to make her his permanent partner.

  Jansen was over the moon. In the morning, after they had made love that fulfilled her soul and filled her with abundant joy, Jansen had for breakfast a small bowl of Kellogg’s Special K cornflakes in milk, two mid-sized, succulent and fresh mangoes, a plate of grapes and two chunks of fish, specially prepared by her travelling chef in the kitchen of the 5-star hotel she and Chris were presently residing in. Afterwards, the two lovebirds were engaged in fierce lovemaking that took both their energies out and they collapsed dead on the king-size bed and drifted to sleep.

  The day was spent exploring the culinary delicacies offered by the islands, as well as partaking in water activities on offer to tourists. On the morning of the next day, Jansen took a jog along the beach, while her fiancé was fast asleep at the hotel. She quickly learned during that jog how horribly out of shape she had become. A ball of fire lighted itself inside her chest and made it hard to breathe. It spread to the rest of her body and her muscles stiffened. She stopped and did some aerobic exercises, but gave up the idea of a morning swim altogether. She jogged back to the hotel and instead of enjoying the convenience provided by the elevator, took the stairs to the 10th floor suite containing her husband. When she reached it, she was sweating profusely and gasping out of breath.

  She collapsed onto the bed next to him. He yawned and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Jansen, trained over the years to control her breathing when under intense physical strain, quickly brought her breathing back to normal and said in a low voice, ‘I’m out of shape. And Roland Garros is four weeks away.’

  Chris blinked and focused his eyes on his millionaire fiancée. ‘I’ll have you in perfect working order before you know it,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘I’m serious, Chris,’ Jansen responded calmly. ‘I want to win the French Open. I have to prove to everyone that I can play and win on any court surface, you know?’

  Chris jumped out of bed. His huge phallus dangled majestically between his legs. Jansen stared at it and felt a tingling sensation at her loins. She diverted her gaze from it and looked at her fiancé’s eyes. He smiled at her, aware of her weakness at the sight of his incredibly enormous sexual organ. ‘Let’s take a shower, and have breakfast. I’ve organized a place where we can train on this island.’

  ‘Oh?’ The simple word was uttered in an apprehensive voice and with a worried expression. ‘I thought we’d go to SA. Gary and I—.’

  ‘Forget Gary,’ Christopher snapped. ‘The guy’s history. He was using ancient and tired tactics to train you. And look where he got you. Only two US Open wins. I am going to drive you to win all the remaining 3 Grand Slam titles, and then some other tournaments of the year,’ he ended boastfully.

  Jansen did not look convinced. ‘Sometimes I get fears, Chris, about my tennis career. My comeback to the game is meant to be sensational. I know it’s a tall order to ask, but I want all of the remaining 3 Grand Slams of the year, and I want the Australian Open in January to complete the circle. It’s a lifelong dream, and I’m getting to a point where I’m tired of losing major tournaments…’

  ‘You won’t,’ Chris answered her. ‘You’re ranked 25 and rising—.’

  ‘Ranks don’t mean anything,’ Jansen chipped in, a touch of exasperation in her voice. ‘Many times seeded players have been knocked out of major tournaments by unseeded players. Gary used to say…’ Her voice trailed off and she left the sentence hanging when she noticed the furious expression on Chris’ face at the mention of her former coach’s name. ‘Sorry, I won’t mention his name again. But you have to understand; I spent a long time with him.’

  Chris, his ego bruised, was however, very skilled at handling women, especially young ones like Jansen, who had yet to learn the ways of the world. He was not about to let his ego get in the way of a beautiful and financially-lucrative relationship. He sat down beside her on the bed and looked deep into her blue eyes. Once again he realized how beautiful Jansen was. She was gifted with a natural beauty that most women don’t have; it was startling to see how incredibly beautiful she was in bed after waking from sleep. Any man would do anything in his power to own and keep Jansen, but only fools worship the beauty of a woman.

  Chris Healey was no fool. He had learned at a very early age in life that beauty alone did not provide meals. He respected – and understood – money more than anything else in the world. The Vermuelen heiress had that crucial commodity in abundance. He took her left hand and enclosed it in his hands. ‘I understand your fears, honey, and I understand your attachment to Gary. I know that I’ve done nothing to prove that I can be a good coach to you. But I’m asking you to trust me, and soon I want to show you that you made the right choice by placing your faith in me. Ne
xt month you will lift the women’s trophy at the French Open. I guarantee that…so help me God.’

  Chapter 2

  AMERICA

  Brand Joelyn came back to full swing after four months of uncertainty over its future. It is a verifiable fact that had Joelyn decided then and there at that point in her life to stop all income-generating projects connected to her name, that decision would have consequentially led to many people being rendered either jobless or unemployable. That eventuality was circumvented by Ms. Smith’s return to her former life – albeit in a more subdued and mature manner than before.

  Four months’ absence from the Hollywood scene can be enough to damage the career of an ordinary celebrity, but Joelyn was a superstar. The four months she spent at rehab assured Brand Jo S the world’s undivided attention, and guaranteed maximum exposure and publicity to everything bearing her name, such that people with capitalist proclivities soon learned that Joelyn’s stint at rehab had done more good than harm. Although dropped by two Hollywood studios from two film projects she had been signed to feature respectively in, mainly because the two respective studios wanted to avert a scheduling crisis, Joelyn was retained by two others, so she was on course to shoot scenes for those two films in the second half of the year. A major US TV network even offered her a contract to star in a reality series of her name, but she declined, mentioning that at the moment she was otherwise engaged in other interests.

  The “other interests” Ms. Smith was referring to but not elaborating on was the pursuing of her music career. During her stint at rehab, Joelyn had written a lot of material that she wanted to record. In an intense and restless period of three consecutive weeks, Joelyn recorded the material of her upcoming sophomore album in various studios around the country. She worked with record producers in mainly Chicago, New York, Atlanta and Los Angeles. Twenty one songs were recorded for the album, but her record label eventually decided on using fifteen of those songs. On the third and final week of her marathon recording, while she was still adding more material for the upcoming album, the first single of that album was released, accompanied by its music video that debuted on MTV. The song, a love ballad stemmed by a disco beat, was the most requested song of that week. It debuted at № 12 on the Billboard Hot 100 and peaked at № 2, a position it held for the following six weeks.

  Jo S was back in business. Her record label invested millions of dollars in a marketing campaign for her second album. Prior to the release of that second offering, Jo S appeared in magazine interviews, on many radio stations’ shows, and in an “exclusive” interview on a syndicated TV talk-show, where she spoke about her past struggles with alcoholism and drug addiction. She spoke candidly about her stay at a treatment facility in Arizona, and revealed that she had used that time to reflect on her life in general and her future in particular, eventually finding inspiration for her second album, which she said touched on issues of love, forgiveness, faith in God, family and tragic fate. In a moment of vanity, Jo S said that her album was “going to change the world”. She probably meant that she was going to change the music industry with her new album, but the world held her to her words, and waited eagerly for the release date of the new album. Jo S ended the talk-show by performing her album’s first single and the recently-released second single.

  Handled by major music group Sony, Jo S’s second album, The First Chapter, was released worldwide in July and shot to № 1 in all charts, transcending the genres of Pop, R&B and Hip Hop, and selling 800,000 copies in its first week, mostly in digital format.

  It is hardly surprising, then, to note that most people, even those that had strongly castigated Joelyn Smith’s alcoholism and drug addiction, realized that being associated with her name was more beneficial than being dissociated from her. Those businesses holding endorsement deals with her, which had listened to their chief executives and not terminated their contracts with her, thanked the heavens that Jo S was back with a bang. Those businesses that had betrayed her by terminating their contracts with her paid a high price because Ms. Smith refused to be enticed back to the negotiating table with people who would stab her in the back without careful reflection of her situation.

  At the end of July, when Jo S was riding the crest of success once again in America, it was reported that for four months, while receiving psychological treatment for her alcoholism and drug addiction, Joelyn Smith had been engaged in an “intense” sexual affair with another woman, described as “openly gay Andrea Durant”.

  There was immediate panic within the business corporations that thought they controlled and owned Joelyn Smith’s life. Urgent meetings were set up at her record label and elsewhere to devise mechanisms for damage control. In the violent media storm that ensued, Joelyn kept a calm head. The learned lawyers sent to advise her by the various business enterprises whose interests she represented, by way of marketing, cautioned her not to make any public statements regarding the issue. On behalf of her, they intended suing the tabloid publication that had initially broken that story for libel, invasion of privacy and general lack of respect for the life of a public figure…

  Tired of all the conniving games regarding her well-being, Joelyn decided to take control of her life and stop allowing other people to take charge of it. She used her tablet computer to post a message on her website, in which she stated that she admitted that all the things said about her by one Andrea Durant were true. Joelyn mentioned that she was a normal human being, with normal sexual needs, and she had found an outlet through which to express them…

  While she was not sure of her sexual orientation, she was neither embarrassed not boastful of her affair with Andrea Durant: it was history – and belonged in history. She understood Andrea’s grief over the ending of their affair, and appreciated that Andrea had broken the lid of their private affair by speaking to the media because of a purely vindictive agenda.

  Joelyn ended her message by stating that she chose to forget the matter altogether because the incident did not define who she was, and she completely forgave Andrea Durant because God asks us to forgive all those that trespass against us…

  Chapter 3

  SOUTH AFRICA

  Jansen was blinded by love, but even the blind sometimes perceive things in their minds, and it has nothing to do with divine intervention. As they neared the start of the French Tennis Open, it was increasingly becoming apparent that Chris Healey was not the man to take Jansen to glory in 2013. Cracks began to develop in their relationship in the weeks leading to the French Open, leading to doubts as to the existence of their future together – either as work-mates or sleeping partners.

  Without seeking to pity them, it is important to note that it is extremely rare to find a romantic couple that can sustain a healthy personal affair together with the strains of working together. With that in mind, perhaps Jansen and Chris Healey deserve our sympathy when we learn that the two of them went to Paris, France, both as lovers and work-mates, only for Jansen to be defeated in the second round of the French Open. Subsequent to that embarrassing defeat, a scathing attack was leveled by an enraged Jansen on Chris Healey’s person, leading to her calling off her wedding engagement to the man.

  Naturally, there was widespread public speculation revolving around the breakdown of Jansen and Chris Healey’s relationship, but we shall not dwell on matters of conjecture. Instead, we will focus our attention on the private wars that took place in order to deliver Jansen from shame and restore her within the vicinity of glory.

  After her dismal performance at Roland Garros, Jansen went to South Africa to talk to Gary Speckman once again at his farm in Heidelberg. Apologetically, she poured out her grief to Gary, telling him how sorry she was that things had gone the way they had, and that she and Chris were no longer an item…

  ‘I heard that, but I dint know whether to believe it or not,’ responded Gary.

  ‘It’s true. It’s over…It was a mistake, and I’m grateful I woke up to my senses before something terrible ha
ppened.’

  ‘You mean marrying him?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied in a low voice, an embarrassed look on her face. ‘I was wrong about him, Gary. I do admit that. You warned me…not in so many words, but you did. I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you, and I’m sorry I treated you the way I did. Even love is no excuse for my stupid actions.’

  Gary Speckman did not know how to respond, so he kept quiet.

  ‘We’ve been through this before in the not-too-distant past, and I’m ashamed to have to do this again, but the reason I’m here is to ask you – no, to beg you – to coach me. I’ve said it many times before, and I’ll say it again; I’m nothing without you. Please, Gary, I’m begging you. I’m sorry for what I did, and I deserve to be punished, but not by you refusing to be my coach…It’d just kill me.’

  They were sincere words, spoken from the bottom of her heart, and he would have to have had a heart of stone not to be touched by them. Still, no matter how tempted he was to jump up and be her knight in shining armor, Gary Speckman had his own life to consider.

  ‘It’s not easy for me, Jan,’ he said and then fell silent.