by Xyla Turner
She started to laugh again.
"Are you freakin' kidding me?" Randall asked.
"Nope, I couldn't have you showing me up about the gems in my own city." Mindy shook her head. "That's just unacceptable."
Randall pulled her into him; causing her to slide across the island counter.
"Well, jokes on you. I still found the gem and I ain't letting her go." He smiled before lifting her chin to kiss her lips.
Chapter Twelve
She could not believe he put his house up for sale, purchased one in Rhode Island and for the weeks leading up to her moving, he made sure everything went through smoothly. She had already had things planned but Randall had someone take over so all she had to do was get on the first-class plane and ride with him. He was cool with her not living with him but the one thing he didn't negotiate were expenses. Traveling, housing, and tuition.
Sandra told her if she wanted to be a stupid and young broad, then let her NBA boyfriend buy her clothes and purses. She said that a real man invested in his woman and that's what Randall was doing, so it would behoove her to let him do just that. Mindy thought that was wise and that Sandra was a big sister for a reason.
The three of them had a pow wow before she left, where both Sandra and Shane apologized for their behavior at dinner. They explained how they were protective and sometimes not always rationale and also the change took them by surprise. More importantly, they were proud of her. Mindy hugged each of them before their mom came in to reinforce that she would, in fact, be just fine. Plus, she was expecting to have some grandchildren soon. They all laughed at Beatrice’s antics but knew she was very serious.
"Move in day!" the announcer yelled. "Today's move-in day and we at Brown want to welcome all of the new students. Please follow the people dressed in orange at each exit so you know where to go. Any questions, make sure you ask them. We're happy to have you here!"
Everyone was smiling, welcoming, and warm Mindy thought. This was graduate school and usually that meant that they were on their own. The welcoming party, attendants, and student assistants were on their post and ready for all of the wacky questions.
"Hey, I'm Tricia," the woman standing next to Mindy said as she introduced herself. "Are you new here?"
"Yes. Yes, I am." Mindy quickly tried to act normal since she was so nervous.
That was her first time actually stepping out on her own. Even though she’d fought for it, she was also scared as hell. What if she failed? What if she had to come running home? What if she succeeded? What were her plans afterward?
All those thoughts had run through her mind for the past few months. The closer the deadline came the more they kept her up at night. Oddly enough, it was Randall who reminded her that she was a Sinclair and anything she did was bound to be successful. More importantly, she was a strong woman who was on a mission and not even he could deter her.
She loved him for that and although she couldn’t see what the future held, it was evident that Randall was determined to be in her life. One night she even had a dream of her father smiling but it wasn’t at her, it was towards the tall figure next to her.
Randall.
That one smile spoke volumes; approval, acceptance and satisfaction. She had learned her independence and strength did not have to be separate from a true friend or lover. Randall meant the world to Mindy, and while she was no fortune teller she knew he would be there. Even her dad approved and that made her world feel right.
That meant everything. The same night as the dream was when she told Randall that she loved him. He said he knew that but thanked her for saying it.
"Are you from here?" Tricia asked.
"No, I'm from DC," Mindy replied. "Moved here a week ago."
"Oh, me too. Well, I mean, I just moved here a week ago. I'm from Philadelphia though." She smiled.
She was tall for a woman, even though Mindy was short, the woman looked to be almost six feet tall.
"Yes, I hear the accent in your voice," Mindy commented.
"Touché," Tricia laughed. "So, I know this is weird but I don't have a friend in the R. I. and you look nice enough. How about we go to lunch or something after we unpack. I promise I'm not crazy but I'm too old to be dealing with the anxiety of not knowing anyone and singing Celine Dion's, All By Myself at my dormitory while eating Chinese."
Mindy could not help the smirk and laughter that came from her as she visualized what the woman was referring to.
"That's my favorite part.," she commented.
"Bridget Jones' Diary!!!" They exclaimed at the same time.
"See, this was meant to be," Tricia beamed.
"I think so. Let's exchange numbers because I live off campus."
"Perfect."
The two of them gave the other their phone number, followed the guys in orange and talked about what brought them to Brown University. As the day progressed, Mindy not only felt overwhelmed but excited. She had finally done it. Finally, she had stepped out and after day one, she felt accomplished.
Tricia ended up coming over to Mindy's apartment where they ate Chinese food and watched Bridget Jones Diary 2. Mid-way through the movie, someone knocked on the door. She thought it could possibly be a neighbor introducing themselves or telling them to stop laughing at Bridget's antics.
Without looking, Mindy opened the door and there stood Randall with a tall gorgeous guy behind him.
"Hey," he said. "I brought Ethan so we could all go out. He's visiting."
"Oh, come in. Sorry, I have a new friend, Tricia. She's here." Mindy opened the door wider for him to come in.
"Ethan, this is my woman, my life, future mother of my kids, and my partner, Mindy Sinclair," Randall introduced.
"Well, I already feel like I know you," Ethan extended his hand. "Nice to finally meet you. Everything was Mindy this, or Mindy that."
Randall elbowed him in the arm.
"Man, not the arm," Ethan laughed. "That's how I make my money."
"Nice to meet you Ethan." Mindy laughed at their jeering. "Come on in."
"Cool," Randall walked in with Ethan in tow.
Ethan had to be at least six foot, displaying his muscular body with a tight tee, jeans and his skin was a nice bronzish complexion. Wow, was the only thing Mindy could think.
Since Randall led the trail back to the living room, he called, "Hey new friend, Tricia. How are you?"
Something crashed on the floor.
"Tricia," Mindy peered from behind the two men to see the pizza box on the floor.
"Good God, you're Randall Jefferson, the small forward for the Wizards," she exclaimed. "You're second in rebounding and ended the season with the most points for someone in your position with the Wizards."
The smile that spread over Randall's face was priceless. Then he turned to Mindy and said, "Where'd you find her?"
"At orientation, silly. Tricia, this is my boyfriend, Randall, as you know, and this is his friend Ethan," Mindy turned to gesture towards his friend but his eyes were on Tricia.
"Please tell me she likes baseball," Ethan muttered.
"Oh, hell no. It's a bunch of lazy guys waiting to swing a bat and they usually miss. I'm not sure why that is a sport." Tricia's lip turned up as she shook her head. "Please don't get me started on MLB."
"Damn," Randall mumbled and pulled Mindy close to him.
"What do you mean, a bunch of lazy guys. Men in the league work their ass off to get to that league." Ethan blinked as his eyes were no longer googly but heated. "Do you even know what you're talking about? You think because you go to some fancy college you have a right to judge men you don't even know."
"Hey guys," Mindy tried to interject.
"First of all, sir," Tricia said placing her hand on her hip, "this fancy college doesn't entitle me to do or say anything. I'm talking about the stupid sport of baseball. What's it to you? I don't like it. Why do you care?"
"Uh, because he plays for the Washington Nationals team in the MLB." Randall s
aid as Mindy and Tricia cringed.
"Damn, well I won't apologize. I meant what I said." She looked at him and said, "I just wouldn't have said it to you."
Ethan's eyes cut to her as he picked up the box of pizza off the floor. Then he said, "You have a lot of opinions about something you know not of. I'd like to see you put your money where your mouth is. Come see our lazy asses first hand at practice."
Mindy started to get a tingly feeling and squeezed Randall. He simply shook his head and held his woman. He had the love of his life and that was all that mattered.
"Uh, no. I'm in a doctoral program and I don't really have time to fraternize with sports players," Tricia quickly answered him.
"Well, Ms. Doctoral student. It would be in your best interest to study qualitative methods and maybe you can do a case study about your initial perception of the baseball league versus the truth. Now, I'm not sure what committee would turn that down if you did it right, of course," Ethan probed.
"Ha. What makes you think I'd want to spend years working my time and energy on something like the stupid sport of baseball?" Tricia laughed. "There's no way."
"You're scared then." He stepped to her. "Scared to find out you're wrong."
Ethan knowingly nodded his head and turned to face Randall. "Alright, man. We going?"
Before he could answer, he made his way to the door.
"I'm not wrong," Tricia called.
"You'll never know," he called back.
"Fine, I'll go to your stupid practice, just to prove you wrong."
"Good," Ethan called. "It's a date."
"And that," Randall looked down at Mindy, "is how it’s done."
"Yeah, I think I got bated too." She chuckled.
"Oh, yeah, little one. You did."
They laughed as they headed towards the door behind Tricia who was still going back and forth with Ethan. That was a story waiting to be told.
Thanks for tuning into Mindy and Randall's story. I hope you enjoyed their short tale of love. Speaking of love, it would be great if you left a review while you’re here.
As you can tell, we will make our way through the different kinds of sports and next up is Tricia and Ethan in the game of Baseball! The best way to stay tuned in via my mailing list! Keep flipping to sign up!
If you liked this story, you’ll love the new, updated and clean version of Love Under Attack. It’s an AA novel that takes deals with the complex nature between a feisty woman and her boss. Keep scrolling to read the first two chapters!
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Love Under Attack: New Regime
Imara Winters:
“Class dismissed,” I announced as the clock struck 1:15 PM.
The first-year students quickly grabbed their books, while those who already had their bags ready twenty minutes ago, left the class without any acknowledgments. This was typical of the first-year students, as they just recently graduated from high school. They were trying to navigate this new collegiate atmosphere by either going unnoticed or attempting to be noticed. Some were scoping out their territory or just looking for potential partners to be intimate with before the semester was over. This was my third year as the Writing Adjunct or part-time Professor at Far Rockaway University. In my previous life, I worked as an English teacher at a middle school. My departure there was bittersweet because I loved my students, but the administrators were crazy as hell.
The leap to become an Adjunct at a University was an attempt to make my resume more diverse. Now that I was no longer teaching full-time anymore, I had the flexibility to become a tenured professor if I wanted, but I was not sure that would be in my best interest at this point. I liked the flexibility of not having to be at work at 9:00 AM every day. It also appealed to me since my classes were split up and sporadic each week. Besides office hours, I did not have to be on campus, allowing me to conduct my business how and when I wanted. This was important, but apparently being an Assistant Professor could have some of the same benefits. My master’s degree was in English Literature, but some colleges required a doctorate degree in the selected content along with extensive experience. I had some classes beyond my masters, but I never applied for a doctoral program. Other schools required published works, which I had, but nothing as of late.
Still in the midst of my thoughts, one of my students lagged, making his way towards the desk. This was only the second class of the semester and the weather was nice. The sun rays beamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, as the warmth from the natural light balanced with the blazing central air unit that kept me in a sweater through the summer. It was early September, which meant student rarely stayed behind unless there was some sort of emergency.
“How may I help you, Mr. Chalmers?” I asked as I gathered my things to head to my office.
“I was just wondering what you were doing this weekend,” he replied with a smoothness about him.
“Excuse me?” My answer was curt.
He sauntered closer to my desk, in what I guess he thought was his sexy strut, then he put both hands on the desk to lean in towards me. “What are your plans for this weekend?”
Granted, the boy was a looker and would certainly be a contender if I were ten years younger, but I was not and the thought of him just seemed like literally robbing the cradle. He was my student, who was probably nineteen years of age. I was pushing 34, so there was no way in hell that would ever happen.
“Mr. Chalmers, what I do with my weekends are none of your business,” I leaned towards him. “Actually, what I do outside of this classroom will never be any of your business. So, I suggest you keep to the topics on your syllabus and we will have a great semester.” I calmly, but meticulously shut that down.
He smirked, then shook his head. “Can’t be mad at me for trying. You are sexy as hell with your pinned-up hair, flirty blouse and tight skirts.”
I gaped at him. This boy was serious. “Mr. Chalmers, please.”
He lifted his hands in the air like he was surrendering for a crime. “My apologies, Professor Winters, I’m just not sure how I’m going to make it through the semester with you as a distraction to my education.”
Taylor Chalmers shook his head, then left.
WOW.
My student just hit on me. Well, you must give the boy credit, you can’t say he did not lack confidence. That took some big kahunas and apparently, he had plenty of them. Hopefully, he could maintain his focus for the semester. My other thought was that might have worked on a professor or two.
Every semester, one of the students tried to hit on me. I looked okay at five-feet, six-inches, chestnut complexion, and shoulder length relaxed hair. My face was usually bare, except for the occasional burgundy lipstick and I always wore earrings that dangled. People were attracted to me, but the feeling was not always mutual. Except for my on and off partner– who was rarely around half the time, Doran. Besides him, I am, for the most part, an old maid. Well, not old or a maid, but I just might die one.
As I walked across campus, I saw a few of my students, who eagerly waved to me. Noticing there was a lot of commotion in front of the library, I kept walking. I really wanted to get to my office and come down from all the energy that I had to exude in class. It really takes a lot out of a person to be ‘on’ for extended periods of time. You have to hold their interest and your interest, and when their energy starts to get low, you have to rally around them again.
Stepping outside, I heard someone addressing the crowd using the loudspeakers, causing me to stop. It sounded like a melody. They were not singing or rhyming, but talking about a better Far Rockaway University (FRU). I started walking towards the library because the person’s voice was hypnotic, causing me to want to hear more. The closer I got, the more I was drawn to the man's words. I would have been surprised if it were a student speaking because the speaker seemed very intelligent and articulate. Not to take anything away from of our students because they
possessed that sort of charisma as well. However, this man spoke from experience, he was passionate and held real conviction that only came from pain.
The features of the speaker started to become clearer as I grew closer. He was definitely over six feet, with a mahogany complexion, and he was bald. His face was chiseled like someone carved him out, with brown eyes and a powerful physique that was only maintained by strenuous sessions in the gym. From his presence, one could determine that he was charismatic. He used hand gestures, fluctuated his voice and anyone and everyone who was near the library was fully in tune with his words. As I surveyed the area, I noticed that I was not the only woman drawn towards the speaker, every woman in sight had eyes for him. He spoke about a better community, how he wanted to prepare students to not only excel in FRU, but in life as well. I could not have agreed more with his passionate statement, but I just wish it was not him.
FRU’s newest president, Dr. T. R. Matthews, was just hired six months ago. Since that time, according to the lunch ladies who call him a slave driver, he apparently had fired most of the staff when he took office and even some of the professors. He was also known to not like the adjuncts because they were not consistent and considered hired help. Therefore, I was not on his side. The man had made enemies quickly, and the word on the street was that you either liked him or not, and he either liked you or not. If it were the latter, you would be gone soon.
Even though Dr. Matthews did all of these things, he still tried to raise morale by doing these little impromptu sessions in the breezeway, outside the cafeteria, the library, or at the FAR Nest (grill/deli). He would always draw a crowd, mostly students who loved him and some curious staff members. I always assumed the good President wanted people to hear his plan for the campus, his motivation behind it and do it in an unconventional way besides emailed memos or letters in a mailbox. It was a smart move on his part because he always stayed after to answer questions. The man recently took over a dormant position, fired a lot of people, was visible and literally had an open-door policy. Anyone was allowed to come in and share their legitimate complaints and from what I have heard, he would always address them.