by Imani King
“I'll just have an iced tea,” Odell says. “But you go ahead and get whatever you’d like, Gryphon.”
I look at her, before ordering wine. He leaves menus.
“You still not feeling too well?”
“No, but that’s not important right now,” she says. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“No problem,” I say. I can tell she’s getting tense by the way her full, sexy lips are pressing together. “Would you rather talk about your work?” I venture. It’s worse. She looks up at the ceiling and her mouth crumples a bit.
“Oh jeez, Odell. I just thought you would prefer to talk about something good, like being the new superstar at the firm.”
That’s it. She looks completely downcast. She puts her head in her hands. “Let’s talk about us,” she finally squeaks out.
“Oh Lord, Odell, is that why you brought me here? To have the define the relationship talk?” She nods, still looking down at her plate. “Look,” I finally say. I realize she must be under enormous pressure, and I’ve only been adding to pressure on her the last few times we were together by trying to push for something more. Looking at her right now, I know I can’t resist her body, or her soul, even if it’s just given to me a night at a time. “Hey, if you want to take it casual, that’s fine,” I say. “We can see other people and, just you know, be around when the other is around. It doesn’t have to be this whole big thing.” I smile bravely, thinking that she will finally be happy now. She’s gotta feel better with all the pressure off. But then I see it. Big salty tears falling onto her napkin, and little sniffles coming from her. Little sniffles that soon turn into sobs.
“But,” she starts. “But,” she starts again, but it’s swallowed in a sob.
“But what, Odell?”
“But, I’m pregnant!”
The last comes out a bit louder than one might expect, especially in a classy restaurant like this one. I’m speechless. Her sobs grow louder, and a waiter discreetly comes by with a stack of folded napkins. Odell grabs one, and gets up and runs to the bathroom.
Not sure what to do, I take a drink of my wine, smile at the people staring at me until they finally look away, and realize: I have to follow her.
23
Odell
I stand at the sink, trying to ebb the flow of tears, and wiping away the mascara streaks from my face. It’s so lovely in this bathroom, so quiet and serene, the crazed harridan that I see in the mirror just doesn't fit. Someone’s tapping on the door. “Just a minute,” I say, but they jiggle the knob. “One moment!”
“Odell, let me in,” I hear, and it’s the deep, low voice I’ve come to adore.
When I slide the door open, Griff rushes in and gives me the biggest hug I could ever imagine. I’m completely enveloped in his arms—pressed firmly against his massive body. It feels so good, so warm and relaxing, so enveloping, that I start crying again. I cry about the baby, about losing my job, about my parents not caring. I let all my feelings out in a torrent of tears, secure in Gryphon James' loving arms.
“I think I’m ruining your shirt,” I say as I finally pull back and look in his eyes. “All of my makeup is running.”
“This old rag,” he grins. But I can see there are tears in his eyes.
“Griff, are you crying too?” I ask.
“Nah, I think someone just farted some onions in here,” he answers, and we both laugh. Hard.
“Let’s get out of here, babe,” he says, wiping my eyes, and kissing me tenderly on the mouth.
He opens the door to a surprised face of an elderly lady who looks all the way up from his chest to his face.
“Excuse me,” she croaks. “Isn’t this the little girls' room?”
“Yes!” Gryphon says in a high voice, and I start laughing again.
Griff eases himself into bed, each move slow and careful, and I remember the devastating hit he took. “Oh my, Griff, do you want a painkiller?” I ask. “I’ve got some in the medicine chest.” “Nah, I’ll ride it out,” he says. “If I took painkillers every time I got hit, my stomach would be all ripped up.” I kiss him softly, and he puts an arm around me. “I don’t think I can do too much tonight Odell,” he says. “Will you let me stay if I can’t make you scream?”
I laugh. “Leave it to me,” I say, kissing down the length of his rippling muscles to the hard ‘v’, leading to his massive cock that that I love so much. It rises to meet my lips, and I give the head a few tentative licks before I wrap my fingers around its girth. He groans in pleasure, caressing my hair and ear with his hand.
If there’s one thing I’m crazy proud of, it’s my skills to pleasure a man when I want to. And after how he treated me tonight, I really want to. I trail my tongue around the corona of his cock, spending a little extra time on the knotted skin on the underside, earning his moan. My hand tightens around him and I work his shaft up and down. I go gently at first, following the movement of my hand with my mouth, taking him further and further inside my throat until I have every inch. My other hand caresses his sac, winning the groans that emanate deeply from his throat. “Odell,” he cries. I hum in response, translating the vibration from my throat to his dick, and he quivers in my mouth. He looks down at me, and I meet his eyes, as I take him in and suck the taut fullness of his cock. We continue until I can’t stand the anticipation anymore and I need him inside me. I position myself on top of him, wriggling my hips down to enrobe his stiff length, watching the tension in his face dissolve in a wave of pleasure. “My God Odell, you have the best pussy,” he whispers. “So sweet and wet and tight.”
“It’s yours,” I say, “all yours.” I’m gyrating on top of him, popping my hips a few times for good measure, before I lose my altruism and have to indulge myself on his cock. This only seems to please him more, and we’re both whispering each other’s names, flirting with orgasm before building up the pleasure again and again. Finally, it’s too much.
He puts his hand on my hip, and I ride him until I come, shimmying on his hard length. When I start to come again, I feel him tremble until he jerks his seed into me. The liquid makes us both so slick I come a third time.
I gently roll off as he winces.
“You ok, babe?” I ask.
“Yeah, still a little tender but I wouldn't give that up for the world,” he says. “How did you get so sexy, Odell?”
“I was born this way,” I joke.
Then his face goes suddenly serious. “So what are we going to do? What do you want to do?”
“Well, I'm going to keep her. Or him,” I say, knowing with all my heart that loving this baby is not only what I want, but what I need right now.
“Thank God,” he says. “I was hoping you'd say that.”
“And it's your choice, Gryphon, whether you want to be in the baby's life.” I'm terrified he'll say no, but it's a decision that he has to make for himself.
“Odell,” he says. “Do you want me to be in the baby's life?”
“Hell,” I say, “Not just the baby's life--I want you in my life.”
“I want that too, Odell,” he says softly. “You, me and our baby. And of course, eventually, the Super Bowl.”
The relief washes over me, and I lean over to kiss him deeply. “You'll make it there,” I tell him. “You have to, because I don't know how much money I'm going to be making in the next little while.”
“I'll make the money for now, and when you're a hot shot lawyer with your own practice, we can live off your salary and my investments.”
“That last part might be sooner than you realize, Gryphon,” I say, looking down.
He’s silent for a long moment. Then, “I hope you didn’t get in trouble for us dating?” he murmurs.
I’d rather not start our life together with a lie, so I answer carefully. “To tell the truth, it didn’t help,” I hedge. “But I’m not sure I’d be happy following in my dad’s footsteps for my whole life, or being in a law firm that doesn’t appreciate my hard work. It’s an option.�
�� His sapphire eyes glow with love and concern, which makes me brave enough to ask, “Do you think that you and I can make it though? We have to face facts—we haven't known each other for all that long.”
“I know, babe,” he says. “But these are only dreams right now. And if I know one thing in this life, it's that dreams are born every moment. If we're going to make it together, then we're going to have to make it day-to-day. From one day to the next, we’ll be slowly building our life together for our baby and for us. It doesn't just happen from wishing and dreaming--it happens because we try every day to make it work.”
I'm silent for a moment. For a guy that calls himself a dumb jock, this is infinite wisdom. He's right. We can decide what we want but if we don't work at it every day, we're not going to get it. And I think that's the biggest reason I want to be with him, because he understands things like that--how to be really successful, whether it's business, football, or love. Waking up in the morning, Griff gets out of bed, a little stiffly. He stretches out his muscles, and I can see the bruises starting to form. The fans that go wild for him don't get to see this side of him; the beautiful man in pain, rubbing his neck with one hand, as he limps slightly, off to the bathroom.
“You ok, Griff?” I call after him.
“I’m fine, a shower will help a lot,” he says, sticking his head out the doorframe to answer me. “It's just the life of a QB. You sacrifice a lot for a win.”
“You're my hero,” I tell him, and he rewards me with a smile.
Once he shuts the door and I hear the shower come on, I think about my day. I guess I'll have to go back to work today and gather my things. I made such a dramatic exit that it'll be a bit embarrassing to show my face to the partners again. I can't leave my stuff in the office. I'll just have to hold my head high. Besides, they're the ones who should be embarrassed at the way they treated me, and all the other women who applied to work at Smith Williams Smith. It'll be my last day of fancy dresses and shoes. I think I'll wear the Manolo Blahniks today since they're just about the most badass footwear I can imagine.
Life sometimes throws you curve balls, but you have to face them, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.
And with that, I get up to make some coffee.
“No thanks, Madeleine,” I answer coolly. “I've just come to clean out my office. I don't need to speak with anyone. I'll be in there if anyone needs to discuss anything with me.”
“Certainly,” she answers. “I'll come check if you need anything in a few minutes as well.”
“Very good,” I say, and walk to the elevators. She does know her job. She'll tell the partners I am here, and then visit to make sure I'm not doing anything to sabotage the firm. She's probably more than aware that they tried to sabotage me, but I won't stoop to their level. I have a business to build and a baby to bear, and I know that I want my karma to be fresh and pure for my life. As much of an insufferable prick as Carlton was to me, I will move on and be free of him. However, that doesn't mean that I won't keep three backups of his ridiculous rantings, just in case it should ever come to a bigger fight.
Coming back into my “new” office—just a month after I entered it for the first time—could be seen as a sad experience. Still, I know that if I hadn't worked here, my life wouldn't have taken the twists and turns that have led me to where I'm supposed to be. I wouldn't even be pregnant if I hadn't become partner, considering that when I met Griff, I was just looking for one last night of freedom before going to work full time. I smile thinking about how I had first wanted us to be anonymous strangers, and now I want him to be my partner for life.
The knock at the door jolts me from my thoughts. “It's ok Madeleine,” I start to say, but when I look up, it's my father.
“Daddy?” I ask. “What are you doing here?
“Odell,” he says. “I've been wanting to get a hold of you, since I've been fighting the brass here to keep you on. I wanted to contact you when I had good news.” He shakes his head sadly. “But I haven't been too successful so far.”
I walk over and give him a hug. “That's okay, Papa, I'm glad you're here now.” I realize he has tears in his eyes.
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
“About what? My job?” I say. “It's not the end of the world, and I have other ideas.”
“Not that,” he says. He grabs my hand. “Odell, about this.”
He hands me a paper bag, and when I look inside, I realize it has my pregnancy test in it.
“Daddy, where did you get this?” I ask, shocked.
“You dropped it when you left the meeting,” he explains. “It fell out of your purse when you left.” He shakes his head. “I grabbed it, and I don't think anyone else saw, but … is it true, Odell? Is it yours?”
This is not how I was planning to tell my parents I'm pregnant, but I guess this is just another curve ball in my life.
“It's true, Daddy,” I say.
His eyes darken. “That's it,” he says roughly. I look up, surprised. “This little experiment with you graduating and becoming a lawyer here at my firm is over, so you'll come to Switzerland and live with Mother and me,” he says.
“What are you talking about?
“You're a Williams,” he says. “We won't let you raise this baby alone, much less abort it. No, you'll come to Europe, the baby will go to all the best schools, and we'll say that it's your sister or that we've adopted.”
I hold my hand out. Does he think I'm a teenager? “Papa, there's no way any of that is going to happen.”
“Oh no?” he asks. “Do you think you can just disgrace the family name, by having a baby out of wedlock?”
“Is everyone in this firm from 1950?” I wonder out loud. “Daddy, did you force the firm to hire me? Is that why Carlton resents me so much?”
“I didn't force them but let's just say I strongly encouraged them.” He starts stuffing the things on my desk into boxes. “And I traded in a few favors. Do you think it's that easy getting a job on your own and being promoted to partner?”
“Why do you care so much what I do?” I ask. “You’ve never seemed all that invested before!”
“It's not only you now, is it?” he says coldly. “It's my grandchild. I had a strong suspicion this would happen one day.”
“While that might be true, Daddy,” I say. “This isn't exactly about you. It's about the baby and me, and the baby's father.”
“Do you even know who that is, pumpkin?” He seems to be trying to ask kindly, but even the question is out-of-this-world rude.
“Of course, I do.” I whirl to face him. “I'm not sure who you think you're trying to help. First, you get me a job where I don't fit in the corporate culture at all, then when I'm free of it, you beg for it back, and finally, when that doesn't work, you demand that I come to another country with you. That is not the way to handle your daughter, Dad,—whether she's carrying your grandbaby or not.”
He looks as if I've struck him in the face, but I have to continue. “Daddy, I love you, but I am a grown woman now, and this is my baby. And my life. I've tried to follow your footsteps and win you and Mama's approval my whole life, but that's over now.”
I take the box from him and set it down on my desk. “In fact, getting and losing this very job might be the best thing that has ever happened to me,” I say. “Because it has shown me what's important to me. I want to create the kind of world where my baby can grow up happy and secure, whether it's a boy or a girl. You’ll see that you have all the reason in the world to be proud of me, once I open up my own firm and build it according to my own values. Just like you did with this place. But this place isn't the right place for me, and it never was.”
I take a deep breath. “And as far as the baby goes. Sure, it's not as if everything happened ideally, but maybe it happened for the best.”
I turn around and slowly put my possessions in the box, in an odd reversal of that day one month ago, when I thought I was starting my new life. Little did I kno
w that my new life awaited me, but not here.
When I turn around again, my father's gone, and it's just me, my things, and the baby growing inside me.
Dammit. Why does he always get to me? And to just leave like that? I sink onto the floor and hold my face in my hands. I will not cry in this office. I won’t. I take some deep breaths and finally get up to go to the bathroom.
As I finish washing my face, I shift as I feel some wetness between my legs. I go into a stall to check it out, reaching down with some toilet paper. When I pull my hand back up, it’s sticky and reddish brown. Blood. It’s blood. I shouldn’t be getting my period. Is the baby all right?
I text Griff, asking him to call me, then grab the box of my office things and hold it in front of me to hide any blood. I rush out of the building, nodding stiffly at Madeleine on the way out.
“Bye Odell,” she calls after me, with a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes.
“Bye Madeleine, thanks for everything, “I choke out as I rush to my car and straight to the hospital.
24
Gryphon
I wince on the table as the PT works every sore muscle I have in turn. He can always seem to find the spots that cause me the most pain, and grinds his thumb, elbow, or some other torturous implement right in there.
“Fuck!” I yell as he leans into my lower back. “What are you doing down there, man?”
“You did a number on yourself, this time, Griffy,” he answers. “You gotta take care of yourself.”
“I didn’t exactly do it to myself,” I protest. “It was a pile on, this time.”
“Sure, but you know you gotta have some self-preservation.”
I wish I could. He and I both know though that my body belongs to the league, and if I show “self-preservation” over the team winning, I’ll get fired fast. There is one thing they want, and one thing only, and that’s winning games, all the way to the Super Bowl. I wince again as he digs into another spot.