by Avery, Joy
When Blake had shared with Tucker what’d happened between him and Eunice, he hadn’t expected Tucker to make an impromptu visit to New York to see him. Of course, he had masked the trip behind church business, but Blake knew the real reason. He was there for support.
Lounging on the couch, Blake stared out the window of his condo at nothing in particular. The more he tried to banish Eunice from his thoughts, the more she invaded them. His hand tightened around the glass of cognac he’d been nursing for the past hour.
“You want to talk about it?” Tucker asked.
“There’s nothing to talk about. She betrayed me. There’s no forgiving that.”
“You said yourself you didn’t give her a chance to explain. Maybe there’s a—”
“A logical explanation?” Blake said, finishing Tucker’s sentence.
Tucker nodded. “Yeah.”
Unlike him, Tucker found the logical—or at least tried to—in everything. There was no logic here. Just downright deceit. “How do you explain treachery, except with more lies?”
“I just don’t buy it. I know you said Johnny is never wrong, but there’s a first time for everything. This just doesn’t feel right to me. Eunice loves you, man. Anyone can see that.”
Blake tossed a stern glance at his brother. “I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about that woman.”
Little good his warning did.
Tucker shook his head. “I think you’re wrong about this. You’re allowing your anger—”
“You’re damn right I’m angry. I trusted her. I loved her.”
“You still love her.”
“No, I—”
“Yes, you do. If you don’t, if that love faded after only a matter of days, then I’m not sure you ever truly did.”
“Could you please come out of marriage counselor mode?”
When Tucker lifted his hands in defense, Blake rolled his eyes away. Fine, he still loved her. He’d give Tucker that one. But he refused to admit it out loud. The fact that he could still love the woman who’d betrayed him only angered him more.
In silence, Blake thought about the words she said to him in the middle of the hallway for everyone to hear. “The next time you tell someone you love them, you should really mean it.” Hell, he had meant it. Each time he’d said it. Too bad she hadn’t.
How could he have not seen the signs? How did every moment with Eunice feel so real? Especially when it’d all been a lie. Because she knew me better than anyone and played that to her advantage. Played me to her advantage. Never again, he vowed.
He caught sight of the star ornament she’d given him dangling from the tree they’d decorated. For some reason, it brought him peace. When they were together, nothing about it felt like a lie.
Instantly, he shook off the sentiment. He knew what he’d seen. The pages and pages of calls to Palmer’s office. Plus, she’d all but confirmed her relationship with Caleb by the deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face. It’d been all the verification he needed.
So why in the hell was he still so confused? There was no room for second thoughts now. Not after how he’d treated her. Sitting forward, he slammed the glass on the table, amber liquid spilling out.
Tucker placed a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”
Blake dipped his head. Was he okay? No, he wasn’t. “I’m hurting,” was all he said before pushing to his feet and leaving the room.
***
Eunice tapped on her laptop as her Aunt Leona packed for yet another romantic getaway. Destination—Buenos Aires, Argentina. She loved her aunt’s free spirit. That certainly hadn’t been passed down to her.
After confirming her trip to France, Eunice updated her resume. She couldn’t believe how outdated it was. It hadn’t occurred to her to update it before now; mainly because she’d been certain FSM would be her permanent place of employment for years to come.
She chortled. Blake had surely shown her that wasn’t the case. And in the cruelest possible manner. He’d really threatened to have her tossed out of the building. Even now, she couldn’t believe it. Anger swelled inside her all over again. Bastard.
“By the scowl on your face, you’re thinking about him again.”
Eunice laughed when her aunt made finger quotes. “No.” When Leona flashed her a who-do-you-think-your-trying-to-fool expression, Eunice sighed. “Not intentionally. Somehow, he keeps finding his way into my head.” Bastard.
“Call him.”
Eunice scoffed “Call him? Do you recall me telling you he refused to listen to a word I had to say? Tossed me out on my butt? Threatened to call security. Bastard,” she said, this time aloud.
Leona laughed. “Oh, he was just throwing a tantrum. Men do that when their feelings are hurt.”
Being a tantrum throwing grown-ass man was no excuse for the way he’d treated her. He’d practically revealed his claim to love her to be false. You didn’t treat the person you claimed to love the way he’d treated her. No, she refused to believe he ever loved her. Damn you, Blake Farrington.
“Sweetie, if that man refused to give you the opportunity to explain to him the truth, then maybe he doesn’t deserve to hear it. Or deserve you, for that matter.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Anyway,” she said with a sigh. “I’m done with men. They suck. They want your trust, but don’t want to give you theirs in return. Love’s a sham.”
“Done with men? Nonsense. I can always hook you up on a blind date. One of the ladies in my Zumba class mentioned her grandson was looking for a nice young lady to woo. Woo—her word, not mine. Anyway—”
“Oh no! You’re not setting me up on another blind date. Do you recall me telling you about my evening with the leprechaun?”
Leona shrugged. “I thought he was magically delicious.” She whooped in laughter. “Okay, so mystical creatures aren’t your cup of tea, but—”
Eunice covered her ears. “La...la...la...la...”
Leona swatted her playfully with a piece of fabric Eunice thought could be underwear, but there was so little of it, she wasn’t sure.
“Do you regret loving him…Blake?”
Eunice studied her twiddling fingers. “Maybe I should, but I don’t.”
“Then how could love be a sham? If there’s any mistake worth making, it has to be love. Just look at me. I make the same mistake of falling in love over and over again. I have yet to this day regretted one single time.” She folded a shirt. “I’m going to keep loving until I find that one who…” Leona’s words trailed off.
“That one who what?”
“That one who forces me to realize that every lover I’ve had before him was merely a stepping stone toward him. I want us to dance in the rain, make love in the backseat of a ’71 Hemi Cuda convertible. I want to fall madly in love. And the second I start to feel sane, he reminds me—with his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his arms, his entire being—just how crazy our love really is.”
Eunice marveled at how much in that moment her aunt reminded her of her mother as she danced around the room. They were as different as they had been the same with one common trait. A zeal for life and a belief in destiny. Her mother’s words rang in her head. True love is destiny.
“Earth to Eunice.”
Absently, she said, “Hmm?”
Leona cradled her face in her hands. “I have raised you as my own for twenty-two years. I love you as if I birthed you myself.” She kissed her forehead. “If I could, I would siphon all your pain.”
She wrapped her arms around her aunt’s tiny waist. “I know you would.”
Leona held her at arm’s length. “Call him,” she said, emphasizing her words. “Make him listen.”
For a brief second, she contemplated the idea. But then she relived the feeling of standing in her office, Blake’s words shredding her to pieces. “No.” Her voice dropped. “He walked away.”
“Maybe you’ll find your soul mate in Paris,” Leona said in accented English. “You’re going to love i
t there. But before you leave…do you mind going to the market for me?”
“For you, anything.”
“Who needs Paris? You might just find the man of your dreams in the produce department.”
“As if.”
A half hour later, Eunice stood in the market thumping a cantaloupe. Not that she’d taken any stock in her aunt’s words, it was the fact she’d wanted melon. She wasn’t any kind of fruit specialist—she had no idea what thumping the cantaloupe would even accomplish—but she’d just watched the older woman across from her perform the action.
“Thumping works, but smelling works best.”
Eunice watched the giant next to her place the fruit under his nose. Even amidst the UNC ball cap, dark sunglasses, and the uninspiring clothing, Fredrick Bass—aka Freddie Fingers—was still recognizable. At least to her. Maybe because she’d watched endless play tapes of him with Blake. Or maybe the fact that there were few men in the state as tall as the six foot eight center.
She hadn’t believed her aunt when she’d claimed they shopped at the same market. It was a surprise that he even did his own shopping. Eunice glanced around. Where was his entourage? Most athletes had them.
“It should smell sweet and aromatic.” He pushed the piece of fruit toward her. “Smell.”
Hesitant, she took a whiff and smiled. “Huh, it does.”
“That means it’s ripe.” He placed the melon in her cart. “You take this one, and you can pick me out another.”
She laughed. “Okay.” Fingering through the melons, she settled on a large one toward the back.
Fredrick took the melon into one of his gigantic hands and inspected her offering. “Deep, dense sound. No breaks, softness, or moisture at the stem.”
If she hadn’t been in front of him, she would not have believed it. Now she understood Blake’s fascination with the man.
He ran his hand over the course netting. “Defined. Thick. Nice golden color.”
Eunice felt as if she was watching an episode on Alton Brown’s Good Eats, not standing toe-to-toe with the most popular player in the NBA. Finally, he brought the melon to his nose.
“Smells divine. You chose a great piece of fruit.”
The compliment swelled her cheeks. “Thank you.”
This honestly had to be the strangest encounter she’d ever experienced. Even crazier than dinner with a leprechaun. What were the odds of her running into Fredrick Bass in the produce section of the market?
Everything happens for a reason. Something else her mother used to say. She’d never believed it until now. “I hope you’re not giving up basketball to be a cantaloupe grower.”
He laughed, pulling the glasses from his face. “Disguise didn’t work, huh?”
“It could use some tweaking. Plus, you’re like a thousand feet tall.”
When he laughed at her joke, her confidence grew. Warm them up, Blake would say. Despite what’d happened between them, she had to admit he was a great teacher.
She extended her hand. “Eunice Howard.”
He shook her hand quickly. “Nice to meet you, Eunice.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I better get out of here. I have some folks waiting on me.”
Damn. And just like that, he’d wiggled off her hook. “Oh, okay. Thank you for the melon tutorial.”
“Anytime.”
As he moved away, Eunice thought about how different their conversation would have been a week ago. When she was still a member of the FSM family. When she still called Blake Farrington hers. Her mother’s words repeated in her head. Everything happens for a reason.
“Signing with Palmer Elliot would be a horrible career move for you.”
Fingers rotated on his heels, his large frame stiffening. “How do you know I’m...? Are you a reporter? Are you following me?” His handsome features harden and Eunice likened him to a pit bull. Well, more like an adorable Rottweiler puppy trying to present a hard side that still needed cultivating.
She lifted her hand. “God, no.” Show them you have something in common. “I loathe reporters.” It seemed to work. His expression softened and Eunice continued, “I work for— Used to work for,” she corrected, “Farrington Sports Management.”
He inched closer to her. “Blake Farrington?”
She nodded.
“Cool dude. Just out of curiosity, why do you believe Palmer Elliot would be bad for my career?”
She shook her head. “Palmer Elliot is a good agent, great even. And he’s done some great things. I won’t take that away from him.” She shrugged. “If you’re okay being just a number, then with Palmer is probably where you want to be. But you don’t strike me as someone who would settle for just being a number.”
Fredrick studied her closely, folding his long, muscular arms across his wide chest.
“If you truly want to be a part of a family, want invaluable career guidance that prepares you for life after basketball, financial guidance that will ensure your children’s children’s children are comfortable, then hands down, Farrington is the place for you. Mr. Farrington will treat you like family.”
“Uh-huh.”
“No doubt you’ve heard the same song and dance before, but even so, don’t you owe it to yourself and your career to explore all of your options?”
He looked as if he were mulling over her words. For the first time, she felt as if she’d cracked his exterior.
“Blake has what, like thirty-six clients he directly manages? Palmer has over a hundred.”
Eunice jabbed her finger at him. “That is exactly what should concern you. Over a hundred clients? Wow. Where do you fit in? Yes, you are hotter right now than LeBron, D. Wade, and Melo put together.” Her compliment made him smile. “But what happens if you hit the court one day and, God forbid, you get injured?” She shrugged. “Where would Palmer Elliot be? Better yet, what number would you be then? If you had a number at all, that is. Definitely not in his top twenty. I can guarantee you that.”
Eunice could see the contemplation in his eyes. She’d gotten him thinking. That’s all she’d set out to do. She offered her hand again. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Bass.” She smiled and pushed her cart toward the checkout lane.
“Eunice?”
She turned.
“Thank you.”
Smiling, she pushed on. She was proud of herself. She’d spent fifteen minutes attempting to convince him to at least consider Blake’s company. The man who’d called her a liar and deceiver to her face. The man who’d kicked her out on her ass. The man whom she still loved relentlessly.
Her cart diverted from the checkout lane. The chocolate aisle is what she needed. There were truffles with her name written all over them. If she knew nothing else, she had to get Blake out of her system. Her hips couldn’t take much more.
Chapter 21
Word had gotten to Blake that Trevor was cleaning out Eunice’s office. He’d informed her that her things would be sent. And he intended to send them. When he got around to it, of course. Which he wasn’t in any hurry to do. The fact that Trevor was thwarting his plan irritated him.
He pushed the partially cracked door open. The essence of Eunice was still present in the room, and it flooded him with memories. They’d hugged there. Kissed there. Almost made love there.
He could still feel her in the room, wrapping her arms around him and making him feel as if he was the luckiest man in the world. She’d robbed him of the most happiness he’d ever known. He’d allowed himself to love her and, in the process, he’d let his guard down. Now, he was paying for the mistake with his heart.
Refocusing, he approached Trevor. “What are you doing?” Though his actions were evident.
Trevor deviated briefly from packing the box. “I’m using my lunch hour to gather Eunice’s things. She asked—”
“I told Ms. Howard her belongings would be sent to her as soon as they were accessed properly.” He looked at an already sealed box. “I need my people to verify no Farrington property
is leaving the premises.”
“Well, since I am one of your people, and I can assure you no Farrington property is being packed.”
“Do you like being one of my people?”
Trevor eyed Blake sternly. “Very much. This is a great company to work for.”
He slid his hands into his pockets. “Good. As you know, with any family, there has to be trust for the bond to remain strong. Sometimes family members are forced to choose sides, making—”
Trevor lifted his hand and Blake stopped as if on cue.
“Are you trying to say that I have to choose between my friendship with Eunice and my employment at FSM?”
Blake shrugged. He knew he was being a bastard. His hurt blinded him to the ethical—not to mention legal—aspect of the request. “What’s more important? Your friendship or your job? Starve or eat.”
Trevor laughed. Then laughed some more. Blake wasn’t sure what in the hell was so funny.
“When I came out to my family, I might as well have been a leper. Family, so called friends all turned their backs on me. All I had was Eunice. And luckily, she was all I needed. I had her friendship, her support, her unconditional love.”
Blake’s jaw tightened as he listened to Trevor put the woman who’d crushed him on a pedestal.
Trevor continued, “I love that woman. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had. The most loyal friend I’ve ever had. You don’t take such a friendship for granted. I love working here at FSM. But if my keeping this job depends on whether or not I have to choose between working here and Eunice...” He shrugged. “I guess I’ll starve, because I’d choose Eunice every day, all day. Jobs are a dime a dozen. True friends like Eunice come around once in a lifetime. Anyone would be a fool to lose someone like her.”
The jab Trevor had just taken at him hadn’t gone unnoticed. He felt lower than an earthworm’s belly for attempting to use a scare tactic on Trevor. Hurt and pain, he told himself. Eunice had been right; he did need to control everything and everyone around him. He clearly had no control over Trevor. At least where Eunice was involved.
Trevor lifted a box but sat it back down. “I have never betrayed Eunice’s trust, but I won’t let her be crucified when it’s completely undeserved. She—”