“Um, Sands has asked for no significant others,” Ruben replied. “This time around. But Coach Bata has invited you both over for breakfast on Sunday, so you can meet his wife and their kids.”
I looked over at Michael as a muscle flexed along his bearded jaw. I knew what he was thinking. He was weighing what he wanted against not pissing off his new colleagues.
“It’s fine, baby. We’ll meet you right after, right?”
“Yeah we can grab a bite and hang nearby,” Ruben suggested. I was glad we were on the same page. Didn’t feel right to split up the team.
“Fine,” Michael said, eventually. “What’s on deck for Friday?”
“God, this took forever. It’s the second to last game of the regular season. They have a family and fans day on the books already. Two dozen or so parents get to bring their kids to meet and greet and shoot around with the players. They’d like you to be there for that. And then you’ll say a few words before tip off. I almost said the coin toss. This is crazy!”
“It is pretty cool,” I added.
“Well let’s just hope it stays cool and I don’t regret it,” Michael added. He was a perfectionist. His crankiness was perfection based.
Ruben went on laying out the rest of the weekend and the month. Miami had made it to the play-offs so the season wasn’t over. More games, more events. We would be busy. I’d have to figure something out with Daniella. They went back to talking non-sporty business as Sandy served us dinner. The puppies passed out, lulled to sleep by the hum of the engines and me? I was just restless.
I’d been so busy with K&D, I’d almost forgotten just how packed Michael’s schedule was when he didn’t have the responsibility of a professional sports franchise. We watched the announcement from the league commissioner, Laurence Stockton. It was an excessively long press conference just to say that the team had been sold and Michael would be speaking the next day. He took a few questions, talking Michael up and bringing the focus back to the players and fans with every answer, refusing to comment on the charges against John Taylor Wayne.
We all seemed to relax a little once it was over, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. Michael and Ruben’s phones started ringing. I leaned over and kissed Michael on his cheek.
“I’m going to go call my mom.”
He glanced at the number flashing across his screen before he looked at me. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just—” I held up my hand and waggled my ring finger. “I haven’t told her yet.”
“Shit. Let’s call her together.” The call went to voicemail, but his phone immediately started to ring again. This time it was his nephew, Mitchell.
“No, no, you’re fine. Talk to Mitch. I’ll be quick. I think we need to have our mother-daughter chat anyway. Get the dress ball rolling.”
He gave my fingers a slight squeeze. “Okay.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.” I walked to the back of the plane and closed the bedroom door behind me. My mom had just finished cleaning up from dinner when she picked up the phone. She was happy for me and so were the twins who I could hear shouting their hellos in the background. My dad said his quick congrats and let me know that Michael had done the honorable thing by asking his permission. I teased him a bit, reminding him that this wasn’t the sixties anymore. My dad agreed, pulling absolutely no punches, and said that he would happily let Michael pay for the wedding since we were being all modern and what not. And then my mom did the one thing I never thought she’d do. She cried.
“I was worried about you, but you know that.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But you always call me when something’s bothering you or when something isn’t right, big or small, and I haven’t heard one bad word out of your mouth about Michael.”
“He’s a good man, mom. He loves me a lot.”
“I know he does, honey. I know he does. I’m praying for you both.”
Despite what I’d told Michael, I admitted I was a little too overwhelmed to talk particulars. Too tired to talk dresses and bridesmaids and preliminary guest lists, but we would and soon. After we hung up I thought about going back out to the main cabin to join the guys for the rest of the flight, but instead I changed my Facebook relationship status to ENGAGED, grabbed one of the spare throw blankets from the storage cabinets, and then I went to sleep.
When I woke up, the lights in the cabin were dimmed and Michael was in the bed with me. I didn't remember him coming in and joining the slumber party, but there he was on top of the suede comforter, his arm draped around my waist when Sandy knocked and let us know we were making our approach.
As soon as we landed in Miami, we headed to the house we’d be living in until we bought our own place. Michael was not playing when he said it was humid, holy shit. I could taste the equator the minute we stepped off the plane. We were only in the heat for six minutes before we got in the air-conditioned car, but it was enough to make me drowsy again. It was only five a.m. and my body was very much still on west coast time.
Our driver, Emmanuel, dropped Ruben off at his hotel. He just wanted to check in and shower, and then he'd be over to our new place to join Michael for the rest of his day. We only had a little over two hours before Michael had to be on his way to the press conference. Thinking about how much caffeine I would need to get through this day, I watched the city go by as we drove to this ridiculous mansion on the water. I’m talking ridiculous. Michael’s house was big in that "big for a single guy" type of way. This place was too big for four families of four.
Vera, a tall, slim, extremely tight, older Eastern European woman, was waiting for us by the front door with two sets of keys. I thought we’d have a female version of Holger to deal with, but she was much sweeter and way less bossy. I still missed our big German though. She took the dogs off our hands and suggested we have a look around while Emmanuel brought our bags inside.
We made it through three of the eight bedrooms before we found the master suite. It had HIS and HERS everything. I came out of the HERS bathroom that was attached to the HERS “dressing closet” and met Michael by the huge bed that was up on this raised platform. The look on his face matched mine.
“What was Ruben thinking? We don't need all this.”
“I think this was a recommendation from the GM’s office. I'm sure new players want something over the top when they sign.”
“And they thought you had to show out too? When we move we should downsize. Why didn't Ruben stay here with us?”
“So he can mentally clock out. We should call my parents.”
“Oh. Now?” It was barely six a.m. by that point.
“Yeah. This week has been a little crazy and I'm sure it's not going to slow down. We should have called them already. Plus they are both early birds.”
“Okay.” I sat on the bed, swallowing my nerves as Michael fished his tablet out of his bag.
Thanks to his parents’ close relationship, his dad noticed early on when his mom started exhibiting the early stages of Alzheimer’s, just a few weeks before Michael and I started dating. Michael didn't talk about it often, but they had done everything they could to help her. Medications, exercise, hiring additional help around the house to assist both of his aging parents, everything they could do to make her comfortable. Though she was showing more signs of the disease as time went on, Myra and Matthew shared that she still had plenty of good days, but that that didn't mean she was suddenly back to normal. I was hesitant to wonder whether this was going to be a good day or bad day, or if we were going to be able to talk to her at all.
Michael sat down beside me on the bed as he brought up “Mom & Dad” on the video chat app and hit send. My parents had always seemed like the big hurdle, but that didn't mean I didn't want Michael’s parents to like me and it definitely didn't mean I wasn't afraid they wouldn't be too keen on us getting married. His parents were born in an era where interracial marriage came with jail time.
The tablet made its little
bubbling ring noise twice before the screen lit up with the top of Herbert Bradbury’s head.
“Oh, wait. Look. I think I've got it,” he said as his face came into full view. “There we are. Good morning!” He was sporting the biggest smile. Michael’s dad was glow-in-the-dark white, with white hair that still had wisps of blond around his temples. Michael had gotten the shape of his face and his bright blue eyes from his father, but that was pretty much it. The rest was all his mom.
“Come, have a seat, Nina. Come say hello to Kayla. Hi Kayla,” Herbert said.
“Hello,” I said, smiling wide.
Michael’s mom slid into the frame. She was not so cheery as she made herself comfortable. She was in her early seventies, but she looked great. Her lightly tanned skin was still tight and her hair was a beautiful mixture of black and grey. Michael had her mouth and her nose. “Michael, tell your father I don't need a nurse. Especially not a man nurse,” she said with a hint of an accent, maybe British.
“Gregory has been very helpful and I think he should stay,” Herbert said.
“I agree with your husband. How are you feeling today, mom?” Michael asked.
“I'm fine. I’ve been fine. Stop with all the fussing. Tell them, Herbert. I’ve been having a good week.”
“She has. She’s trying a new medication that seems to be helping. And I am learning how to cook.”
“What about Melba?” Michael asked. I peeked over at the frown creasing Michael’s eyebrows.
“Melba’s here. She's making breakfast right now. I was just feeling a little useless around here. You got us this wonderful home and all this help, I thought I'd learn some of your mum’s favorite dishes.” It was hard to see clearly, but I was pretty sure Herbert reached up and rubbed the back of Michael’s mom’s neck. So that's where he got it from.
“Married a half century and he still loves me. Now let me see.” Even after the vaguely self-deprecating dig, I felt myself smiling wider as she tilted the screen so she could get a better look at us. I had a feeling there was a pair of her reading glasses around their house somewhere.
“Kayla.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes, Herbert shows me your picture every day. I'd remember those dimples anywhere.”
“I'm glad I finally get to see you guys,” I replied. God, they weren't even my parents and I felt terrible about not visiting them.
“When Michael told me he was going to propose, I thought it was a little too good to be true,” Herbert said. “And then I find out I get a new daughter-in-law and a new set of season tickets all in one week. I believe I understand how to purchase a basketball team, but you have to tell us how you wooed this beautiful young lady.”
“The old Bradbury charm,” Michael said with a little chuckle.
“He tricked with me with all his kindness and consideration. I tried to resist it, but I failed,” I said.
“Kayla, I’d like to say it’s all a ruse, but he’s always been my sweetest child.”
“I won’t tell Myra that,” I said.
We chatted a little bit longer about how they were happy that Michael was finally settling down and how maybe we should think about getting married in Michigan since Michael never does anything in Michigan. Soon someone I assumed was Gregory, the male nurse, popped in to let them know that Melba had prepared a delicious breakfast for Nina. Nina let him know she wasn’t a child and would be down when she felt like eating. We hung up with them then, promising to come visit after the NBA Finals were over.
It was a little surreal. I was about to have in-laws.
Michael placed the tablet on the bed, then leaned forward scrubbing his face. He was exhausted.
“I'm glad both our folks know now. I'm sorry we didn't call them sooner,” he said.
“I changed my Facebook status last night. I'm afraid to check my phone.” I eyed my purse that was sitting on the floor. There were a bunch of unread texts I was avoiding too. It was too early in the morning to be this overwhelmed. I looked up when Michael’s warm hand slid around the back of my neck. I leaned into his touch.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yeah, I'm fine. Why?”
“Just wondering.” He kissed my forehead.
“Does your mom have any brown in her?” I half teased. “She looks too good for her age not to.”
“She's half Indian.”
“Oh that explains why you're not all the way square,” I said as I bumped his side.
“Yeah, that one quarter really saved me. She met my dad while he was traveling in Europe. He thought his draft number would get called so he went backpacking just in case Vietnam was the last place he got to see.”
“Glad things worked out differently there.”
“You’re not the only one. You don't have to come to the press conference. You can stay here and rest.”
“No, I want to come. I'm gonna be dead around four, but it's fine. We have a slow morning tomorrow. We’ll catch up on sleep then. I don't know if I can sleep now anyway. I'm too keyed up.”
“Do you want me to help you sleep?”
I looked over at him as his hand moved down my back. The last twenty-four hours I felt like I’d been walking on marbles and the way I saw it, I wouldn’t be back on stable flooring for a while, but that look on his face, the look in his eyes, it swept all the chaos away.
“I think I could use a little help.” I lay back on the giant bed that didn’t belong to us. Michael took the invitation and leaned over me, kissing my lips all soft and slow. My pussy swelled instantly, just from the weight of his body on me. Everything was off, a little fucked up with the temporary move and the team and the prenup, but this felt perfect. The button on my jeans was flicked open with ease and then his hand was inside my underwear. My thighs pressed together, then eased apart as his hand moved lower.
“I think if we start by getting you out of these clothes…” I squeezed my eyes closed as two of his fingers moved over my clit. “Or do you want to keep your clothes on?” And then those same two fingers pushed inside of me. I grabbed his wrist and held on as I licked my lips. His hard-on was moving against my hip.
“I want you,” I moaned.
And then we were interrupted. The doorbell rang, but it wasn't just the doorbell. It sounded like a doorbell's chimes echoing through forty-eight megaphones lined up ass to mouth. We both jumped at the bone shaking sound.
“Fuck.” Michael slumped forward, rubbing his face against my shoulder. “I had Ruben arrange for a shape up before the press conference. That’s probably the barber.”
“I don’t care who it is. That doorbell, babe. That has got to go.”
Michael smiled a bit, his mustache tipping up and then he wiggled his fingers, making my cunt clench on his hand. “You want me to make him wait?”
The doorbell rang again, making my teeth vibrate. “No. Please. Vera must still be out with the dogs. Please let him in.”
Michael laughed and kissed me again as he pulled his hand out of my jeans. This week needed to end. I wanted my boyfriend back. My fiancé. I glared at him as he stood, then licked his fingers clean as he backed toward the bedroom's massive door.
“You’re nasty.”
“I know. That’s why you’re marrying me. I'll have Vera talk to the owners. Take a nap. Take a shower. Come down when you're ready.”
“'Kay. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Six
I needed a shower for sure, but a shower turned out to be a horrible idea. Ten seconds under the hot spray and I was ready for a serious nap. I got out of the shower and lay down on the bed, and I woke up thirty minutes later groggy as hell and even more confused because I didn't recognize the room I was in. It didn't help that the sound of that god-awful doorbell was what ripped me from my sleep.
Some sweet person had brought my luggage up. I brushed my teeth and changed into this houndstooth dress I bought to wear somewhere special. I grabbed a new pair of black wedge
ankle boots out of my suitcase and a little black jacket to match. As soon as I woke all the way up I would appreciate just how cute I looked. In desperate need of food before I did anything else, I made my way downstairs toward the sound of Ruben’s echoing laughter. The house really was big as hell for no good reason.
The kitchen/great room was hopping with activity. Ruben was on the couch with some woman I didn’t know. She was Latina, I think—only one of my eyes was all the way open. They were playing with Patch while Penny snoozed at Ruben’s feet. Another black woman I didn’t know seemed to be putting a whole MAC kiosk full of makeup out on the counter. Vera was busy at the stove. It looked like she was making breakfast for twice the number of people. Julius, Michael’s barber, was there finishing up his handiwork on Michael’s beard. I felt like a little kid who had just woken up from a nap during their parents’ dinner party. I was still so sleepy, in a half haze, I just walked directly toward Michael. He was the most familiar thing in the room.
“Good morning.” I managed to squeak out. I was greeted by a round of hellos and good mornings in return.
“If it ain’t Miss Thicka-Than-A-Snicka,” Julius said with his deep laugh.
“Hi Jules.” I gave him a half hug and a kiss on the cheek and then I leaned over and kissed Michael’s lips. He reached out and squeezed my hand.
“Kayla, this is Paola from the GM’s office. And Zia, who is here to do your hair and makeup,” Ruben explained.
“Hi, good morning,” I tried again. “I’m sorry I’m out of it. I hit like half a REM cycle and now I feel like I got hit by a bus. Is there coffee?”
“There sure is,” Vera said, with her thick accent, nodding to a little coffee machine on the far counter.
“Thank you. Zia, do you mind if we eat first? I'll be way less twitchy once I'm fed.”
“Absolutely,” she replied. “And I hear congrats are in order.”
“Huh?” I looked down at Michael as he squeezed my hand then rotated my engagement ring a little. “Oh, thank you. It's all pretty fresh.”
SO RIGHT: A Sugar Baby Novella Page 6