Maybe for the Summer

by Aubreé Pynn

Pepper let out an exasperated sigh. “Julius there is literally a video of you removing your chains and pulling your gun out.”

“When we signed you, we told you to keep your nose clean. This isn’t keeping your nose clean.”

They knew his temper was explosive which was what had gotten him into this predicament to begin with.

Julius was a fighter. He was the type to sense disrespect,

remove his jewelry and square up. Any time, any place, never any regrets about it either.

“I say call your lawyer, get the logistics, and go from there.

They said they was droppin’ you. Don’t mean you can’t get your master’s or make another album.

He’d made Treason Entertainment millions upon millions of dollars and him cutting their percentage down

surely didn’t sit well with them.

“Well, I kinda stumbled into it and found out that the information TE was telling us was false. They’re bankrupt and attempting to sell off artists catalogs,” Mark shared.

Janay’s voice could be heard over everyone. “Boy, your spirit didn’t tell you to email that from our private server to your sister.”

Mark’s sister was the publisher of CULTURE Magazine; a story like this was bound to blow up her digital footprint while ruining not just Daysha’s career, but the company.

“Effectively immediately, you are no longer employed by Executive Marketing and Management, Inc.

You will not be able to work or start a firm of your own, nor poach any clients or employees. There is a seven year term for your non-compete and NDA.

Due to the nature of your termination, you have forfeited your 401k, profit sharing, and final paycheck. Your health insurance will be t...

Daysha wasted no time snatching the degrees and awards off her wall and leaving everything else.

With a box of her things, she made her final walk out of a company she’d given almost ten years to.

Daysha couldn’t even bring herself to answer the questions before she broke down in sobs. “They fired me.”

“Emails. My right-hand emailed classified documents from my email.”

Katrina Wallace pulled the final draft from her cigarette before dropping it to the concrete underneath her feet

She stood impatiently outside of the LO County jail waiting for the release of her son, nephews, and their family friend.

Katrina’s eyes darted past Kizzie, Charlie, and Haddon and landed on Julius’ heavy-lidded eyes.

“I’m starting to think your rapping ass loves being in jail. Something I should know?”

“I thought I called Max seven hours ago.”

“You did and I told him to stay at home with his wife and newborn.

because you can’t seem to get your shit together doesn’t mean he has to leave ...

Kizzie dropped his head and shook it. The trouble with Katrina showing up to do anything for Julius was that she was going to be loud and unfiltered. “Ma.”

Got my ass up here at this jailhouse knowing good and damn well I got warrants.

“Eat,” she urged. “I may not know a lot, but I know that when life gets to twisting you around, God is trying to put you where you need to be.

Julius ran his hand over his face. He was in trouble. This wasn’t a woman he could hit and forget.

“I feel like my momma’s voice is about to come out of your mouth,” Kizzie started.

“Don’t touch nothing, don’t ask for nothing, ‘cause you ain’t getting nothing.”

Zaim nodded. “Yeah. I own my masters. Everyone on my label owns their masters. You got to get yourself into position,

“Well, I’ve lived long enough to know that nothing snatched away is ever a loss.

You got something bigger and better on the way.

“Again. You aren’t letting him touch you again. I know dick imprint when I see it. Ohh, soft love from a roughneck nigga is literally the best.”

Julius taunted. “And that kitty ain’t little, baby. Phat Ma is a whole thunder cat.”

Kizzie had been trying to get Julius to slip for years. B. Janae was his plan.

“When this album is done, he’s more than likely going to have a party. So when I drop the pin, tell them niggas to drop him.”

No, she couldn’t fix him, but she could hold his hand and guide him to the all the things black men swore they didn’t need.

Like therapy, church, unconditional, unwavering love from a black woman.

You’re going to tell me how much of a gangsta you used to be.” “Don’t tell Daysha about this.” “Secret’s safe with me, pops.”

Julius chuckled, finding her anger to be the cutest thing he’d ever seen,

Daysha wasn’t even a full five foot five inches, with the attitude of a giant.

For Daysha, Julius would lose himself and put Kizzie to sleep.

Kizzie didn’t look the same to Julius.

Envy was rearing its head, and he couldn’t understand why.

she didn’t want Julius to intercept the pregnancy tests.

“This is a buyout contract,” she said, reading the words silently.

Do I want my baby coming out like Speedy Gonzalez or the Roadrunner?