“The chocolate chip cookies are excellent too.” Dana pulled out her phone and opened the clock app. “You have a deal. I’m setting the timer for thirty minutes.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t play around.”
“No, I don’t.” The seconds started counting down.
“Can I at least know the name of the woman I’m going to woo?”
Interesting choice of words. She hadn’t been wooed in a long time. So many men didn’t make the effort anymore. It was nice to see someone making the effort, and who knows, he might be the distraction she needed to help her get over her feelings for Omar. She would know more in the next twenty-nine minutes.
“My name is Dana. Dana Lindstrom.”
5
Omar lifted his hand in greeting to the guard as he rolled through the gate at the front of the subdivision where his parents lived in Suwanee. In sweetening the deal to entice them to move from New York, he’d offered to buy them a house.
He himself lived in a condo in Midtown, adequate for his needs as a thirty-three-year-old bachelor. For his parents, however, he purchased a four-sided brick, three-story manor with a master on the main floor, four additional bedrooms on the upper floors, and five and a half baths.
His parents loved the place for different reasons. His mother liked the layout of the house and the privacy afforded by the small community of only thirty houses. His father, Omar Senior, liked having access to the Jack Nicklaus-designed golf course. His passion for the game rubbed off on Omar, and since leaving football, he often played golf with his father.
He parked in the driveway and lifted Prince from the back seat. Jangling his keys as he entered the house, he let Prince run ahead into the kitchen. Right away, the delicious aroma of the meal hit his nostrils, and he practically salivated.
Dorothy wore an apron over her dress and stood at the island, putting the finishing touches on a dish.
“Grandma!” Prince screamed, barreling toward her as if he hadn’t seen her in years.
“Hey, baby!” She bent to give him a hug and kiss.
Omar kissed her cheek. “Smells good in here.”
“I hope you brought your appetite.”
“I see. You prepared a feast.”
He reached for a homemade roll, but she smacked his hand, and Omar grunted his displeasure.
“Not before dinner,” Dorothy said. “You two go wash up. Your father’s in the den watching TV.”
Omar sighed heavily and led his son to the bathroom first. Then he went in search of his father and found him in the den making a whiskey sour at the fully stocked bar.
The two-story den was bright and airy, with two sitting areas grouped around mahogany tables. One grouping contained a sectional, armchair, and recliner, while the other consisted of two solid-print armchairs in front of the fireplace.
There was a huge painting of Omar over the stone fireplace in his red Falcons jersey, arms raised overhead as he hollered after sacking the quarterback on the opposing team.
This room led onto the balcony, which contained an exterior fireplace and overlooked a full acre. His parents took full advantage of the outdoor space last winter after they finished renovations. They did a lot of entertaining, inviting over friends to huddle around the warm fire and roast marshmallows or dine on comforting soup with hot cider.
“Hey, Pop.”
“Hi, Grandpa!”
“Hey, there.” Omar Senior flashed an affectionate smile at his grandson and returned to mixing his drink. “You see how much food your mother’s cooking? I thought we were having twenty people over for dinner.” He shook his head.
Omar Bradford Senior used to play football when younger and maintained a trim physique. A little shorter than Omar and with a darker complexion, Senior, as everyone called him, had never been good enough to go pro, but his understanding of the game made him an excellent coach from the time Omar started Pee Wee football.
Omar dropped onto the sofa. “You know she enjoys cooking, and you don’t mind eating.”
“Got that right, but you’re taking food with you, or I’ll have to eat short ribs, macaroni and cheese, and tomato pie for the rest of the week.”
Omar chuckled.
“Drink?” his father asked.
“I’m fine for now. I’ll wait until dinner’s ready.”
“I’ll take a drink,” Prince piped up.
“You’re not ready for this yet. This is a grown up drink,” Senior said.
Prince poked out his bottom lip. “Can I go watch TV in grandma and grandpa’s room?” he asked Omar.
“Yes. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
Prince took off running.
“Your mini-me’s got speed on him. Might be an athlete like you.”
“He better. I keep telling him to stop running everywhere, but he don’t listen.”
“He’s like you were at that age. Might as well tell him to stop breathing.” His father settled into the recliner. “What’s the latest on Kitchen Love? You going to open on time?”
Kitchen Love was the name of a new concept Omar was working on. The farm-to-table restaurant was the first time in a long time he was so excited about a project. In addition to having a typical menu, it would address food insecurity in the community by providing meals free of charge to anyone who walked in off the street and couldn’t afford to pay for a meal on their own. The staff would include a mix of paid and volunteer positions, including bussers, waitstaff, and back-of-the-house positions.
“We’re almost ready to launch. Only a few more details need to be worked out with the investors, and I have a meeting this week to iron out those plans,” Omar replied.
“I’m really proud of you. You’re not only interested in making money, you want to make a difference in the world too.”
“I learned that from you and Ma.”
His father brushed away the comment. “Your mother mostly. You know she can’t turn down the opportunity to help a single person,” he said with a chuckle and shake of his head.
As Omar was about to agree with his father, his brother Cole walked into the room, and his presence seemed to dim the sun and turn the air gray.
“Omar,” Cole said by way of greeting.
“Cole.”
At thirty-eight, Cole’s caramel complexion matched Omar’s, but his eyes were brown, and he had a head full of low-cut hair. Both men were a couple inches over six feet, but Cole had a slighter build.
His brother sank onto the sectional. “Think I’m gonna stick around for another month or so. I might move here.”
Senior swung his head in Cole’s direction, an indication the announcement was new information.
“Really?” Omar said. “What brought that on?”
Shrugging, Cole said, “I like Atlanta. There’s plenty to do, and the weather is nice. Giving it some thought, that’s all.”
“What about your job in New York?” Senior asked.
Cole worked at a property management firm. As a manager, his portfolio included a mix of properties with a wide range of rents.
“I’ll figure out the details later.”
Something was up, but Cole was sneaky and wouldn’t divulge the information before it was time, and certainly not to Omar.
There had always been a weird rivalry between them, which kept them from being close. As a kid, Omar idolized his older brother and, for a long time, did almost anything for a better relationship with him—including investing in a couple of his failed businesses over the years. Cole made it clear he never really wanted a relationship, though, and Omar realized the issues went deeper. Cole was jealous, though he never explicitly said as much, and nothing Omar did could change Cole’s resentment, so he finally gave up.
Omar’s relationship with his fellow football players was much better. He formed a bond with them and experienced the true meaning of brotherhood, where they looked out for each other and trained together, and when he was a rookie, he lived with a couple o
f the guys for two years.
Academically, Cole had always done better than Omar. Omar used to struggle with his school work, and if not for his athletic ability, he was pretty certain he would have been held back at least once during his middle school or high school years.
His businesses might have failed, but Cole never had a hard time getting work. He was charming and knowledgeable about a range of topics, enough to BS his way into several good-paying jobs. However, while he excelled in his professional life, his personal life was always chaotic and filled with one disaster after another. He married young and then divorced within a year. After initially setting up his own phone repair business, he went bankrupt because of mismanagement. He eventually earned his broker license and got a job at a property management firm. Four years ago the office manager sued the company and Cole, alleging sexual harassment. They settled out of court for an undisclosed sum, but he kept his job.
Now here he was hanging out in Atlanta as if he didn’t have a job in New York, and even more shocking was his talk about moving here. Was he running from something?
“If you’re serious about moving here, let me know,” Omar said. “I know a lot of people and could get you in touch with the right folks to get established here.”
Several beats passed as Cole studied him from the other end of the sectional. “I might take you up on your offer.”
Senior cleared his throat. “You’re welcome to join us when we play golf. Might be fun, the three of us out there together.”
Cole shook his head. “I can count on one hand how many times I’ve played golf. It’s a rich man’s game.”
“Nonsense. We’ll teach you everything you need to know, won’t we, Omar?”
Omar immediately nodded. “Absolutely.”
Laughing, Cole said, “Okay, you’ve twisted my arm. Next time you play, include me. Playing golf will give me something else to do besides sightseeing.”
“Excellent.” Senior’s gaze connected with Omar’s, and a message passed between them—one of hope of potential changes to come.
“Dinner is ready,” Dorothy said from the doorway.
“Good, I’m starving.” Senior hopped up from the recliner with the agility of a much younger man and was the first one out the door.
Omar called his son and soon the family was gathered around the table. His father led the prayer and then they dived into the delicious food, passing plates around, laughing and talking like a normal family should.
Cole’s response to Omar’s and Senior’s offers lifted Omar’s spirits. He remembered Dana’s comment last week and thought maybe, just maybe, Cole’s visit presented the opportunity for them to finally mend their relationship.
6
“I’m so happy to see you and your brother get along so well,” Dorothy whispered, standing at the back door leading to the driveway. “Cole’s visit was a good decision, don’t you think?”
Though she didn’t verbalize her thoughts much, Omar knew the strained relationship between him and his brother caused his mother deep concern.
Cradling a sleeping Prince against his shoulder, Omar replied, “I’m starting to think so. Any idea how long he plans to stay?”
His mother shook her head. “He’s been very vague, but he’s welcomed as long as he wants to. You’re both in your thirties, and it’s time to set aside your differences. Make the best of his visit here.”
“I’ll try, Ma.”
He would do anything for his mother. Her encouragement and unconditional love over the years helped him excel in football and become the man he was today. Whether she wanted him to walk across hot coals or perform the much more difficult task of mending the relationship with his brother, he would make a sincere effort to try.
“Good night,” Dorothy said quietly, waving as Omar walked the short distance to the Escalade.
Earlier, he placed the food they were taking home in the back. With all the leftovers his mother packed for them, he and Prince would have dinner for a couple of days.
He climbed in the vehicle and started out of the subdivision. When he hit the highway, he turned on soft music for the drive, gaze flicking to Prince slouched in his car seat, mouth partially open. He looked like a little angel and Omar’s chest tightened with love. Sometimes he couldn’t believe he had a kid, and such a good kid. He definitely hit the jackpot with his little mini-me.
His phone rang and his ex-fiancée’s name showed on the screen. Athena, Prince’s mother. Omar hit the Bluetooth button and answered.
“Hi, checking in to see how the two of you are doing,” Athena said.
“I’m in the car. Prince is in the back seat, asleep. We went to my parents’ house for dinner and left about ten minutes ago.”
“Lucky Prince, getting all that good home cooking. I miss your mom’s Sunday dinners.”
Omar didn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead and switching lanes. Every now and again, Athena dropped comments into their conversations to remind him of how they used to be, but he had no desire to reminisce with her about the past. If she hadn’t cheated on him, nothing would have changed, and he only found out about her other man by chance.
Prince was almost a year old when Omar let the team know he was retiring at the end of the season. They tried to talk him out of his decision by offering more money and bonuses, and his agent said he’d work harder at getting more endorsement deals, but none of those offers appealed to him because his mind was already made up.
He had talked to his parents and Dana in detail about the decision, and it was the right choice for him. Jason Brown quit football around the same age to become a farmer, so why couldn’t Omar do the same? He had plenty of money, and football had been good to him—paying his way through school and giving him a high salary that allowed him to start several businesses and his nonprofit. He was, however, ready to move on. Walking away would allow him more time for his business ventures and the Omar Bradford Foundation, which meant he could expand his empire and the influence of his charitable works.
While he lived in Atlanta, Athena and Prince lived in New York, but they agreed she would move to Atlanta after the season was over, and then they’d get married.
He couldn’t make the date of Prince’s first birthday because of a prior engagement, so he showed up two days early as a surprise, calling Athena from the airport to let her know he was on his way. They spent the day celebrating Prince’s birthday, but a bigger surprise awaited him when he was about to go to sleep. He found another man’s boxers tangled in the sheets on their bed—the bed he shared with her.
First she tried to convince him the underwear belonged to him, which made no sense since he hadn’t been home in months. Then she tried to convince him it belonged to her brother, whom she gave the master bedroom when he visited. He never believed her, and their engagement ended with plenty of tears and her begging him not to go.
At the time, one of his friends accused him of looking for a way out of the relationship. Maybe. By then he and Dana were very close, and he struggled to reconcile his feelings for her with his feelings for Athena, whom he’d known longer, planned to marry, and was the mother of his child.
Athena continued. “I called because your finance manager left a message saying you’re increasing the amount you give me for Prince each month. That’s not necessary. You give me plenty already.”
Omar frowned as he switched lanes. Most of his friends and acquaintances complained about the amount of money they paid to their baby mamas and grumbled whenever asked for money above and beyond the monthly child support. Athena may have her faults, but she never asked for extra money and did an amazing job making sure Prince was taken care of out of the funds he deposited into her account each month. He was lucky and didn’t have any complaints about how she took care of their son.
“Costs go up, and I’ve been giving you the same amount since he was born. He’s four now, and the increase is well overdue.”
“If you’re sure�
�”
“I’m sure,” he said firmly.
“All right,” she said unenthusiastically. “While I have you on the phone, I wanted to let you know I’m thinking about visiting Atlanta a few days before Father’s Day, if you don’t mind. I haven’t been there in a while, and I’d like to go out, do a little shopping, maybe see some sights and spend time at your parents’ house. Your mom mentioned Kitchen Love will open the same week as Father’s Day, so I might stick around for the opening. Is that okay?”
“Sure, fine by me. Are you definitely coming?”
“I’m not sure yet. My visit won’t cause you any problems?”
Omar gritted his teeth. He hated how she always beat around the bush instead of getting to the point. So different from Dana, who said whatever she was thinking.
“Ask me what you want to ask, Athena,” he said.
There were a few seconds of silence.
“If…” Her voice wavered. “If there’s another woman, I wouldn’t want to cause any problems...”
She knew he dated because every now and again his name appeared in a magazine or on a gossip blog with the name of his current companion. Thankfully, those articles didn’t appear as often since he was no longer a hot celebrity.
“I don’t have a girlfriend, but if I did, I’d make sure she understood there was nothing to worry about,” he snapped. The words sounded harsher than he’d intended, but Athena needed to understand she could not create problems for him. As far as he was concerned, she was a non-issue.
“Omar, don’t you sometimes wonder—”
“No.” He gripped the leather steering wheel, hating the position she was putting him in, forcing him to be blunt to drill home that nothing could ever happen between them again. “Don’t do this, Athena. We’ve been here before, and I’ve made it clear every single time that we can’t go back. I’m not trying to hurt you. You’re the mother of my son, but you can’t keep bringing up the past. Do you understand?” He kept his voice firm.
The Friend Zone Page 3