One of the Guys

by Delaney Diamond

  She could always count on her father, the one man she could trust.

  “You getting out of bed anytime soon?” he asked.

  “In a little bit,” Ronnie answered, distracted by the folder and the contents.

  “Okay, whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you to breakfast.”

  “The breakfast buffet?” she asked hopefully.

  Going to breakfast was one of the things they liked to do, and they often went to the same place, which offered delicious servings of ham, cheese grits, scrambled eggs, toast, and pancakes. They’d been going there since she was a little girl, and right now she felt young and vulnerable like a little girl. Comfort food and her father’s nurturing nature offered the perfect salve for her emotional bruises.

  “Is there any place else for breakfast?” He grinned.

  “Not at all.”

  After her father left the room, Ronnie read the contents of the package, a professional and detailed marketing plan. Did Diego pay someone to do this?

  Her heart raced triple time as she reviewed the extensive report tailored specifically for Taylor Automotive & Repair. She reviewed the colorful graphs and charts and skimmed the market analysis of potential customers available in the surrounding area. What most intrigued Ronnie was the recommendation to focus on women customers.

  She turned to the next page, which detailed a wonderful idea of doing community outreach through an automotive clinic for women. The clinic would teach the basics of car maintenance to educate female drivers, but serve as a funnel to establish trust and future business.

  Why hadn’t she thought of this herself? It was a brilliant idea.

  Ronnie rolled out of bed and rushed to the window. Diego had already left, of course. She picked up the phone and dialed his number, but it rolled to voicemail. She should probably thank him in person, anyway.

  She splashed cool water on her face, curling her lip at her swollen eyes, but shrugged since there was nothing she could do about them. Dressing quickly, she donned a lime-green shirt and a denim skirt, absolutely not wearing a skirt because Diego liked her legs.

  She scooped up the package from the bed, and rushed down the stairs.

  Her father came down the hall, his eyes wide and startled. “Where you going in such a hurry? What about breakfast?”

  “I need a rain check. This”—she held up the package—“is a marketing plan on how we can expand Taylor Automotive.”

  “Diego did that?” her father asked.

  “Maybe he paid someone. I don’t know. But I’m going to thank him.”

  “Thank him?”

  “Yes. I…couldn’t get him on the phone.”

  “Uh-huh. Good luck, nugget.”

  Ronnie bit her lip. “I’m only going to thank him.”

  “Okay,” her father said, a gleam in his eyes.

  Ronnie arrived at Diego’s and then second-guessed herself. Dread ate at the insides of her stomach. Maybe she should have left a message instead of coming over.

  The front door opened and Diego stood there in a pair of jeans and no shirt.

  Crap. Now she couldn’t leave.

  She exited the vehicle and made her way slowly to the door on unsteady legs. Stopping a few feet away, she hugged the folder to her chest. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” His face appeared drawn, and her father was right—he looked like someone who hadn’t slept in days. Despite the tiredness, he was as handsome as ever. A dusting of hair on his face and his hair tousled and uncombed. She wanted to launch herself into his arms.

  “Are you alone? I—”

  His mouth tightened.

  “Can I come in?”

  He stepped aside and she walked into the living room. Bonkers lounged in her favorite spot on the arm of the sofa, licking her paw. She watched Ronnie with suspicious eyes, her tail swishing up and down, the way a human would impatiently tap their fingers.

  “I read the report,” Ronnie said.

  “What did you think?” A tuft of dark hair peeked out from the top of his low-slung jeans, distracting her.

  “It’s great. How much do I owe you? “

  “Nothing. Talia works at a marketing firm and prepared it as a favor to me.” He spoke in a dull, flat voice.

  “Wow, that’s some favor. She put in a lot of work, or so it seems. You’re sure there isn’t something I could do? Maybe offer free service or something?” She smiled, lips trembling with the effort to remain cool.

  “You don’t have to do that. She’s family.”

  Ronnie hugged the report tighter. There was nothing more to say. She should leave, but couldn’t.

  “You only came by to thank me?”

  She lifted her gaze and saw pain in his eyes. But she felt pain, too. Deep, ugly pain that shredded her insides and made her feel like a fool.

  “I’m angry at you,” she said quietly.

  “If you let me explain—”

  “I know all the stories, I know the game. I’ve been on the inside.”

  “So I’m just like every other man, is that it? Is that fair? We hit a snag and you bail?”

  “Snag? Is that what you call what you did?” She wanted to scream.

  “I didn’t do anything!” he shot back. A vein pulsed in his forehead.

  “Yes, you did!” Her arm muscles quivered. Tension choked her. “You pursued me for a year, and you gave me hope. Hope that you liked me for me. With all my rough edges. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else—something else. You made me believe that I was fine the way I was, whether I was Veronica, or whether I was Ronnie.” She took a quivering breath. “And then you took back the hope and the love and stomped on me. On us.”

  “I never took anything back, mami,” he said.

  “Your ex was here, half-naked in your house…” She choked on the words.

  “What you saw was me helping someone who once meant a lot to me. Nothing more.”

  She wanted to believe him. Dare she? His eyes looked so sincere. The words sounded heartfelt.

  “Loisa and I have history, but I don’t love her. I love you. I meant the words when I said them before, and I mean them now.”

  He came closer, and the muscles in her shoulders tightened in protective tension.

  “I did not cheat on you with my ex. Memorial Day weekend, you asked me to trust you. What about you? Can you trust me, Veronica?”

  He was the only person who called her that. The only man who treated her with such care and consideration. With him she could be vulnerable, without feeling weak. She could be strong and still reach for him, and his steady hand would be there, at her elbow, or supporting her back.

  “Can you trust me?” he asked again. “Trust us?”

  He stood right in front of her, and Ronnie squeezed her eyes tight. She leaned into him, perilously close to tears.

  Diego enveloped her in his arms, and she rested against his warm chest. He rubbed up and down her back, and she melted—simply melted against him.

  He kissed the top of her head, and she sighed contentedly.

  “Yes. I trust you,” Ronnie whispered.

  Chapter 25

  Phone to her ear, Ronnie peered into the kitchen, where Tomas and his crew worked, the sound of power tools and pounding hammers almost constant two days into the renovations.

  Thanks to the advice from Tomas’s wife Talia, business had picked up at Taylor Automotive & Repair. The auto clinic was a success, and the free publicity from a feature on the evening news created an avalanche of interest. So much so Ronnie had hired on the two part-time technicians as full-timers and could now afford to remodel the kitchen.

  She strolled to the sunken living room and plopped onto the sofa next to Diego. His fingers moved quickly over the phone as he replied to a text.

  Ronnie draped her leg over his, and continued the conversation with her father. “I have great news.”

  He and Miss Loretta had married a month ago in a small ceremony in the backyard, officiated by their church pastor. Se
venty-five friends and family attended, including Jacob and Buck from the barbershop, and Anika and her mother.

  Her father and Miss Loretta were on their honeymoon—a two-week getaway in Hilton Head.

  “What’s the news?” her father asked.

  Ronnie clearly heard the sound of the Atlantic Ocean through the phone.

  “The association gave our yard an honorary mention in the beautification awards.”

  Red, yellow, and purple flowers added eye-popping color to the landscape, and a white sign with black letters sat at the edge of the lawn, announcing the honor to the entire neighborhood.

  “It’s your yard now.”

  He had partially moved into Miss Loretta’s home. He planned to do a full move-in when they returned from their honeymoon, but had already signed over his house to Ronnie. Thanks to her father, she was now a homeowner and business owner.

  “You and Diego did all the work,” Ronnie pointed out.

  Diego raised his head when she said his name and then went back to texting.

  “Reynolds took the title again, I take it,” Ezekiel said.

  “Yes.”

  Her father grunted. “I’m starting to think the competition is rigged. Talk to Diego about new ideas. Next year I want you to win top prize.”

  Ronnie laughed at his newfound competitive streak. Until Diego, he’d never expressed interest in the awards. “Daddy, I’m not worried about that.”

  “Talk to Diego,” he said again.

  Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever. I’ll talk to him about it. I’ll let you go so you can soak up some more sun.”

  “All right, nugget. We’ll see you in ten days. What’s that?” She heard muffled speaking, as if he’d covered the phone. Then, “Loretta said hello.”

  “Tell her I said hello back. Talk to you later. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Ronnie rested her head against Diego’s arm. “What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked. They’d both taken the day off, the first Saturday in a long time.

  “Actually, I need to discuss something with you,” he said.

  “What?” She lifted her head to look at him.

  She’d come to know his moods very well. At the moment, he wore that cute, mischievous look he sometimes did when he had an idea he wanted to share with her. The same look came over his face whenever he wanted her to try something new in the bedroom. She wondered if that was what he had in mind.

  Last time she saw that look, she’d wound up with a particularly powerful orgasm after letting him restrain her with one of his ties. The spontaneity of their sex life was one of the many things she enjoyed about being with him.

  “You know I play basketball at the gym.”

  “And yet you suck so bad.”

  He tugged her ear.

  “Stop.” She slapped away his hand.

  “Listen up.” Diego tugged her ear again, and Ronnie winced. “As I was saying, you know I usually play on Saturday afternoon and kick ass.” He waited for her to object, and when she didn’t, continued. “We have a competition going with another team, but a member of our team has to cancel.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. How do you plan to get around being one man short?”

  The mischievous smile turned sly. “You.”

  “Hmm. Is money involved?” Ronnie asked.

  “Do Cubans do it better?”

  Ronnie sighed. “Yes, Cubans do it better.”

  “Say it with more conviction.”

  “You know what…”

  “You have something smart to say?” He lifted his hand like a claw and flexed his fingers, threatening her with a bout of tickles.

  “Cubans are the greatest,” Ronnie said woodenly. “They definitely do it better.”

  “We’ll have to work on your delivery,” Diego said. “Anyway, are you game?”

  “Is my name Ronnie Taylor, Queen of the Basketball Court?” Ronnie responded with a saucy smile.

  He grinned, all white teeth and gorgeous lips. “I don’t know about all that, but I’m ready to whoop some ass.”

  That afternoon, Ronnie and Diego showed up at the gym, but when his teammates learned that Ronnie would be taking the place of their fourth member, their shoulders sagged in defeat.

  “Come on, man. No offense, but you brought your lady in here to replace Ty?” The teammate, a light-skinned black male with a white sweatband around his head, stared in disbelief at Ronnie.

  She stood to the side, stretching in preparation of the game, and could hear everything they said. Of course, she didn’t get the impression they didn’t want her to hear.

  “She’s better than all of us. Trust me,” Diego said. All three of them sent their gazes in her direction, and Ronnie continued loosening her limbs, bending from side to side in a lateral stretch.

  “Unless she’s Lisa Leslie reincarnated, I’m not buying it,” the other team member said. He looked biracial, black and Asian.

  “Hey!” A member from the opposite team yelled across the court and pointed at Ronnie. “We playing ball, or we doing tai chi all day? Cause I came to play ball.”

  Ronnie smirked at the remark and her gaze met Diego’s.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “I’m always ready.” She couldn’t wait to make those suckers feel her wrath.

  The game was a massacre. Ronnie was small and fast and they never saw her coming. She stole the ball and zipped between them for layups. By the time they figured out they needed to keep her from approaching the goal, she changed tactics and only shot three-pointers. They never stood a chance.

  At the end of the game, their opponents came over and shook her hand.

  “I got mad respect for you,” one of the guys said, giving her a fist bump.

  “We have to go celebrate,” Diego’s light-skinned teammate said. “Drinks on me.”

  “Nah.” Diego pulled Ronnie to his side. “We’re going home.”

  “You sure?” his other teammate said. “You know this cheap bastard never pays for anything, so we might as well take advantage of it.”

  Diego chuckled. “We’re good, thanks.”

  They watched them walk away. “I owe you,” Diego said.

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “I’ll go get my gym bag and then we can leave.”

  He jogged off toward the bleachers.

  “Ronnie.” A voice from the past called her name from nearby.

  She blinked. Once. Twice.

  Leonard, her ex. At least two years had passed since she heard news about him, and four since she’d seen him. Yet here he was, in the flesh. He always kept his body in good shape, and an Atlanta Hawks jersey displayed his thick, muscular arms.

  “Hi.”

  “How are you?” The corners of his eyes crinkled into a smile. He actually looked pleased to see her. “Still working at your dad’s shop?”

  “My dad retired. I run it now,” Ronnie answered proudly.

  “Congratulations.” Admiration filled his eyes and voice. “Dahlia came to watch me play. She’s sitting over there.” He indicated the location with a nod toward the bleachers on the opposite side of the gymnasium.

  Dahlia looked ready to go out on a night on the town instead of a casual afternoon watching her boyfriend play ball. She wore a short-sleeved maxi dress with long necklaces around her neck, and matching earrings. Her hair was cut in a chic bob, combed without a hair out of place.

  Leonard cleared his throat. “I don’t know if you heard, but we got married last year.”

  There was a time when hearing that would have destroyed her, but she felt nothing now. Not even a twinge.

  “I’m happy to hear it,” Ronnie said and, to her surprise, realized she meant it. She used to wish all manner of harm and injury to befall Leonard, but she harbored no ill will toward him—not anymore. She’d grown a lot, and finding love mellowed her.

  “I better go. My boyfriend’s waiting for me.” She indicated Diego over at the bleacher
s, with the gym bag over his shoulders, watching the exchange.

  “Damn. I’m not gay, but that’s a nice-looking dude.”

  Ronnie laughed. “He’s not just good-looking—he’s nice, too.”

  Leonard scratched the back of his head. “I always felt guilty about the way things ended between us and hoped you met someone.”

  “There’s no need for you to feel guilty. Besides, I’m not in the same place I was four years ago.”

  “I can tell. You’re…different.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “I’m happy,” Ronnie said simply.

  “I understand. The right person can really make a difference.”

  “Yes, and on that note, I’m really going to leave. Take care, and although you probably don’t need it, good luck with your game.” Ronnie walked away.

  “Thanks. And you played your ass off. Good game.” She didn’t know he’d been there the entire time and seen her play.

  “I know.”

  Leonard chuckled and she strutted over to Diego, an extra bounce in her step. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and they walked toward the exit together.

  “Why didn’t you come over?” Ronnie asked, threading her fingers through his hand on her shoulder.

  “Had a feeling you needed to talk to him alone. Was I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Leonard.” A while back, she told him all about the man who broke her heart, and she and Diego commiserated over being cheated on and how the experience tarnished their view of relationships.

  She leaned on him as they crossed the gym to the double doors.

  “What did he have to say?”

  “Nothing much. He complimented me on the game and said I seemed different.”

  “Really? What did you say?”

  Ronnie smiled up at him. “I told him I was happy.”

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  Excerpt from The Wrong Man