“Yes, you did.”
“I know I can be…well, a bitch at times, but I hope now that you know my story, you understand why I didn’t want to get close to a man. But you never faltered. Why?”
“Because I think you’re worth it. I could tell that when I first met you,” Sylvester said.
“So you’re saying you could see right through me?”
“Well, sorta. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship, because I’m always working,” he said.
“You said you were married once. What happened?”
Sylvester was silent for a moment. He looked up at me and started playing with my hair and said, “Do we really have to talk about my ex tonight?”
“Not if you don’t want to,” I said.
“This feels so nice. Just lying here looking at you.”
“Very nice. May I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Would you like to go to Brady’s last game? It’s Senior Day and it’s time you two met,” I said.
Sylvester looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language, then asked, “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes, I am. Do you think you can get off work?”
“That’s not a problem. That’s really nice, Carmyn. I’d love to meet Brady.”
“He’s still not talking to me, but I’m going to surprise him. Brady has had enough time to sulk.”
“I think you did the right thing by giving him some time to think things over. When are you going to introduce him to Woodson?”
“After the season’s over.”
“Why are you waiting so long?”
“Do you think that’s too long?”
“Carmyn, this man has missed his son’s entire childhood. I say the sooner you get them together, the better.”
“I still don’t know how you were able to find Woodson. I mean, I know it had to cost a lot of money. I’d like to pay you back,” I said.
“No, Carmyn, I just got one of my employ—” Sylvester suddenly caught himself and stopped speaking, then looked around the room like the next word he wanted to say was on the wall.
“What’s the matter?”
Sylvester looked at me and started rubbing my arms in an up-and-down motion like he was trying to keep me warm.
“Come on, now, we’re heading in a new direction, but you’ve got to talk to me,” I said. “Don’t worry. I can handle it.” But could I? What if Sylvester was getting ready to tell me that he wasn’t divorced but had a wife and five kids?
“Carmyn, I haven’t been totally honest with you,” he said, looking down at the floor.
“About what?”
“Well, about who I am.”
“Why not? I know you don’t have a lot of money, but I’ve decided that doesn’t matter to me. You’re a good man, and that’s what I’m going to focus on,” I said.
“So even if I don’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out, that’s cool with you?” Sylvester asked. I thought about it and braced myself to hear him tell me he lived in a homeless shelter or an SRO hotel and that’s why he’d never invited me to his house.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. You were right when you said I might pass up a good thing. I make enough money for the both of us,” I said.
Sylvester smiled and touched my face. Then he said I would never have to do that.
“You can’t be too proud,” I said. “Let me help you. Look what you’ve done for me.”
He looked at me and shook his head and started laughing. I was being serious and didn’t understand what was so funny. When he finally stopped laughing, he moved his body so he was sitting next to me. He took my hands and said, “Carmyn, I haven’t been totally truthful with you. You don’t have to take care of me. I’m really doing okay financially. In fact, I’m doing damn good. I don’t just work at Croissant Corner. I own it.”
“What?” I asked as my mouth dropped open.
“I started the business. I own the franchise and also Playa Rental Cars,” he said.
“Playa Rental Cars? Are you kidding me?”
“Playa Rental Cars is a company I started after the Croissant Corner was really running itself. We rent luxury cars like Benz, Lexus, and others. We even have a Rolls we lease out provided folks put down a hefty deposit.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I didn’t know where this was going, and most of the ladies I met before you were…how shall I say it? Gold diggers. I was even set up on a date once with your girl Kellis. I don’t think she realized it when we met the other day.”
“She said you looked familiar.”
“She drank a lot of Dom that night.” Sylvester laughed.
“So you’re telling me you’re rich?”
“I ain’t got Bob Johnson and Bill Gates money, but I do okay,” he said.
I shook my head and said, “I must be dreaming, because I don’t believe this.”
Sylvester pulled me close to him and whispered in my ear, “Believe it, baby.” Then he gave me a long and tender kiss.
CHAPTER
43
Brady Prepares a New Defense
I walked to my truck after practice and there was a man standing nearby. He walked up to me and extended his hand and said, “I’m Nico Benson and I’m looking forward to making a lot of money for the both of us, Brady Bledsoe.”
What was this fool man talking about? My mother had told him over a year ago I wasn’t signing with him. I ignored his hand and prepared to unlock my truck.
“Did you hear me, Brady?”
I didn’t respond. I needed to get in my truck and out of the steady drizzle that was coming down.
“You can ignore me now, but you’re still going to be one of my top clients.”
“That ain’t never gonna happen,” I said.
“Well, this says quite the opposite.”
He handed me what looked like a signed contract. I looked at the heading with “The Great Ones,” Nico’s agency, and then, at the bottom, I saw my signature. I stared at him in disbelief, then Barrett’s face popped into my head—the day we were in the restaurant when I thought I was signing a contract for training with The Thoroughbreds, not representation by Nico.
“I didn’t sign that,” I said.
“But that’s your signature, isn’t it?” Nico said. “Take a look at the date you signed it. And if you don’t intend to honor it, I need to call the NCAA and your compliance director about your breaking the rules, or better yet, talk with your coach. Your team will have to forfeit all the games you played and they’ll be fined heavily. That would be so sad after the season the Jags have enjoyed this year.”
“I haven’t broken any rules,” I said.
“You don’t consider accepting gifts and money against the rules? You don’t think signing with an agent before the season is over is against the rules?”
“I haven’t signed any kind of contract with you.”
“So why don’t you call your mother and tell her you’ve found your agent.”
“I’m not doing that,” I said, looking at him with a brooding gaze.
“I know your mother is doing well, but I don’t think even she can afford that ten-thousand-dollar Rolex watch you’re wearing,” Nico said as he looked at my wrist.
“This isn’t a violation. I checked. It was a gift, and at the time I was under the impression that Barrett was my girl,” I said.
“How could she be your girl when she’s been fucking me since she was eighteen? I’m sure when they audit your checking account and see all the unexplained money, that will at least get you suspended. The hair business is good, but not twenty-five thousand in your son’s bank account good. Like I said before, your team will have to forfeit all the games you’ve played in. No Senior Day, no bowl game, and you end your career tarnished. Nobody likes a cheater, Brady. Didn’t your mother teach you that?”
“You do what you want. But you and your company won’t ever
see a dime of my money,” I said. The fine drizzle had turned to rain, and my face was now covered with raindrops.
“Be smart, Brady. Even if you can prove that I did a few unsavory things, you’ll still be suspended while they investigate. All I have to do is make one phone call. You’ll miss the bowl game and that invitation to New York for the Heisman Awards will never arrive. Besides, I’m going to take good care of you.”
“In case I haven’t made myself clear, you can do whatever. My coach and teammates know me. I have my good name to stand on. What do you have, Mr. Benson? Some girl that’s good in bed with anybody you tell her to lie with. I wouldn’t brag about that.”
“I have a whole lot of money to look forward to thanks to you, Brady,” Nico said. “Despite the few bad games you’ve had lately, you’ll still be a first-round NFL draft pick.”
I pressed the button on my key to open my truck door, pushed Nico out of the way, and said, “We will see about that.”
When I got home, Delmar was walking out of his room with a black leather duffel on his shoulders. I figured he was going to do another one of his strip shows, but first I had to tell him about my visit with Nico.
“Man, you want me to bust that nigga up?”
“Nah, I’m not worried about Nico. Don’t need to have your butt in jail. We need you for the last two games if we’re going to make it to a bowl game,” I said.
“I heard some of the coaches talking that we might be going to the Cotton Bowl to play Nebraska if we win the last two,” Delmar said.
“That would be nice. A New Year’s Day bowl, and in Dallas, a place where I never been,” I said.
“Son, I can’t believe all the shit that bitch Barrett has caused. You think she’s done this before?”
“I’m pretty sure she has,” I said, recalling the guy in the restaurant talking about Chris Johns.
“What are you going to do if you run into her or hear from her?”
“I don’t know. I doubt if that happens,” I said.
“You gotta admit, she did do a few things that were good,” Delmar said.
“Like what?”
“Now you know how good pussy is, and she got you to loosen up,” Delmar said. “So are you going to tell Coach?”
“What do you think?”
“If he doesn’t know, then shit won’t happen. People do stuff on the team all the time and Coach don’t find out. I hope you’re gonna keep the watch and money,” Delmar said.
“If Nico does go to the coach, I’ll just tell Coach what happened and return the stuff.”
“I think old dude is bluffing. Word will get out on an agent doing stuff like that. We both know schools do that stuff when they recruiting players, but I ain’t never heard of this type of shit.”
“You really think I shouldn’t say anything to Coach? I mean, he might suspend me, but I could get reinstated before the game when I prove I didn’t know what was going on.”
“Don’t be a Boy Scout. Just let things flow. This might hurt your draft position and getting invited to New York for the Heisman finals.”
“You think so?”
“I don’t know for sho, but I think you should chance it. What time you got?”
I looked at my watch and said, “Nine-thirty.”
“I got to bounce. Hey, why don’t you let me wear that watch? I mean, unless you’re sentimental about it.”
I took the watch, gave it to Delmar, and said, “This don’t mean nuthin’ to me.”
If only that were true, I thought as Delmar headed out the door, admiring the expensive gift.
CHAPTER
44
Barrett Leaves the Building . . . Raquel Returns
Dear Diary,
It finally occurred to me that I don’t need to use brute force with Nico. Despite what’s happened, I’m a survivor, and I still have my brains, as well as all the secrets about the wrong he’s done to so many college athletes.
I have receipts. And more important, I have you, my faithful diary.
That night at Nico’s home, all of my dreams disappeared like melting ice. There won’t be any Buckhead mansion, fancy cars, unlimited charge accounts, and private planes. No more kisses filled with tenderness and desire. Nico isn’t coming back. He isn’t going to call and beg my forgiveness. Like all the people in my life, Nico used me, and I still feel chills at the nape of my neck when I remember the look of disgust in his eyes.
I had stashed away a little money, but I knew it wasn’t going to last long. I had to come up with a plan for my future so I could continue to provide for Wade and then also maintain my lifestyle. I have to confess I also had a strong desire for revenge, so I picked up the hotel phone and got the number for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
I got the number and called and asked to speak to the sports editor. Instead of a real person, I got voice mail. At first I started to hang up, but then I decided to talk to the machine.
“I’m Raquel Murphy and I have a story I know you’ll be interested in…”
CHAPTER
45
Carmyn’s Final Tickets
Jaguar Senior Day was a beautiful, sun-dappled autumn day. Driven by his driver Cecil, Sylvester and I arrived in a Silver Shadow Rolls from his fleet of cars.
I was still getting used to Sylvester the businessman as he made phone calls and barked out instructions on the drive up. I nibbled on fruit and cheese and drank cranberry juice as we shared teasing glances, and I enjoyed the cool touch of his hand as he assured me that he was almost finished making calls.
After we arrived at the stadium, I showed Sylvester around the campus. We walked hand in hand like college students as I pointed out Brady’s first dorm and where he took most of his classes. We were having such a good time that we almost missed the players’ Jaguar Walk. The crowd for Brady’s last game was larger than any I had ever seen.
I couldn’t wait until the game was over and hoped I could hug my baby again and introduce him to Sylvester.
As we walked to the ticket window, my cell phone rang. I looked at the number and saw that it was Shelby.
“Hello, Shelby,” I said.
“Ms. Carmyn, I’m going to need to take you up on your offer. My mother said I can’t stay here if I don’t go to Chicago,” she said. It sounded like she was crying.
“Are you all right?”
“I will be fine once I get out of this house.”
“Okay, but I’m not in Atlanta right now. I’ll be there later tonight. If you need to leave now, just go to the shop and tell Zander to let you stay there until I get back,” I told her.
“I will. You sure this is going to be okay?”
“It will be fine. Everything will be just fine,” I said.
“Thank you, Ms. Carmyn.”
“No need to thank me, baby. Just take care of yourself and I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Okay.”
I was a little nervous when I approached the will call window to ask for my tickets. What if Brady was still mad at me and had changed our permanent arrangement? Just in case, I’d spoken to Lowell and he’d offered seats in the dean’s box.
“I’m here to pick up two tickets for Bledsoe,” I said nervously.
A middle-aged white lady looked at me and smiled and said, “Oh, you’re Brady’s mom. We sure are going to miss him next year. What a fine young man you’ve raised.”
“Thank you,” I said as I offered her a weak smile.
“I can’t find your tickets. Let me check with the manager.”
“Okay, but please hurry—I don’t want to miss anything.” Maybe Brady had given my tickets to someone else. This was going to be so embarrassing. Still, nothing and nobody was going to keep me out.
A few minutes later, she returned and said, “I’m sorry, Ms. Bledsoe.”
I didn’t let her finish. “What do you mean you’re sorry? Where are my tickets?”
“Here they are. I was going to tell you someone put them in the wrong place
.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just nervous about the game. You know, if we win we go to our first bowl game.”
“If Brady plays the way he usually does, then I’m not worried. Enjoy the game. We’ll miss you next year.”
“Don’t worry, I will be back. Once a Jaguar, always a Jaguar,” I said.
I left the ticket window and spotted Sylvester with his cell phone pressed to his ear. I walked over and stood directly in front of him and folded my arms across my chest. He got the message and said, “Got to run.”
“Promise me you’ll turn that thing off,” I said.
“I will. Are we all set?”
“Ready to go,” I said as I held up the two tickets.
We turned around and started walking toward Gate 5, when I heard a familiar voice call my name. When I turned around, there was Woodson about five feet from me.
CHAPTER
46
Run, Brady . . . Walk, Son
I slammed my locker door shut and then it just hit me. This was close to the end of college for me.
Last night, me and the team did our usual thing before a game. We all went to a movie, went to dinner afterward, ate like pigs, and then made it back to the hotel just before curfew.
Me and Delmar shared a room, and after he turned out the lights, he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling before he said, “After Senior Day tomorrow, that’s it. No more CGU, no more hangin’ out with our boys, no more college. It’s gonna all be over.”
“Look at you, getting all nostalgic. I’m not thinking about any of that. I’m only thinking about winning this game tomorrow so we can go to the Cotton Bowl.”
“You ain’t gonna miss all of this?” Delmar said as he continued to gaze at the ceiling through the dark room.
“Not really.”
“Nigga…quit playin’,” Delmar said, then rolled over and went to sleep.
I sounded crazy, but lying there at that moment, I truly thought I wouldn’t miss college football because of all that was happening. This was supposed to be about having fun and not business like the NFL. There would be plenty of time when playing football would be a job.
Just Too Good to Be True Page 27