Summer Fling (Love 101 Book 3)

by J. Nichole

  “We can talk about it more when I’m not so busy.” She giggles and I don’t hesitate to bid her farewell.

  Chapter Four

  When I get to my desk there's a cup sitting near my keyboard. I lift it up to my nose and I'm pleasantly surprised by the smell of green tea. The morning after each of our dates, Isaiah has had a nice cup of tea waiting for me. They've varied in flavors, and I have loved them all. I take a sip and let the heat run through my body, awakening my senses.

  “Another cup, huh?” Timmy leans against my cubicle with a smile on his face. “He is racking up on these brownie points. What I wouldn’t do for a thoughtful guy like that.”

  Ignoring Timmy’s comments, I turn my monitor to him and read out the response from the Jacksonville Jaguars’ public relations department. I squeal after reading that my proposal for a story with Dante Jones, their star running back, had been approved. The magazine is running a Celebrities of Jacksonville edition, and Jacksonville doesn’t have many celebrities. Timmy has been trying to catch up with an actress from the Twilight series but hasn't had much luck.

  “Good for you. I wish this Twilight chick would respond. If not, I’m not sure there are many other prospects.” He groans. “If I were the editor of this magazine I’d realize we are in Jacksonville and not Hollywood.”

  I look at him and nod. “I know the pickings are slim here.”

  “You know you could always bring me along. A football team has a slew of celebrities.” I look at Timmy and shake my head slowly. “Or maybe I can get a baseball player to grant me an interview.” Timmy continues on a tangent about possible sports stars the running back could connect him to if I let him tag along.

  I kick Timmy out of my cubicle and start drafting interview questions. I jot down questions about the star running back’s life off the field. When I try to write questions about his career I don’t understand any of his stats on the Jaguars’ website. My dad is an avid college football fan, and I think that should correlate with the NFL.

  My dad answers the phone as if he were in the middle of running a mile. “Hello.”

  "Hey, dad. Exercising?" I try to hold back my smile while I imagine my dad in his too short running shorts and a tank top that he is infamous for wearing during his mid-summer runs.

  “Just came in from mowing the lawn. Not as easy as it used to be.” I hear my mom in the background complaining about my dad tracking grass through the house. “I don’t know what you expect me to do. If you had brought water to me outside we wouldn’t have had this problem. Laila, how are you dear?”

  “Better than you I suppose. I have an interview with Dante Jones, and want your help on questions about his career.”

  “Dante Jones.” He repeats his name again. “Ah, for the Jaguars, right?”

  “Right. I’m interviewing him this weekend.” I still hear my mother in the background.

  “I’ll call you back after I finish up the yard.”

  "Laila, you weren't even going to speak to me?" My mom whisper-shouts into the phone. "I don't know anything about football, but I'd still like to talk to you about how your internship is going."

  “Sorry, mom. How are you?”

  “I’m doing good.” She continues telling me about her job, the neighborhood, and the family.

  “Alright, mom. I’ll chat with you later. I should get back to work.”

  “Oh Laila, just a second. I saw Josh the other day.” She pauses for me to respond. “He’s looking good, Laila.” My mother has been team Josh for a while now.

  “Good to hear, mom.” She tries to continue telling me how well he is doing now, but I have to cut her short. “Okay, as soon as I leave work I’ll give you a call so you can tell me all about it. Love you, mom.”

  I try to concentrate on the interview but thoughts of Josh invade my headspace. After a few attempts at finishing up the interview questions I decide it’s time to call it a day. On my way out I stop by Timmy’s desk. When he sees me a smile spreads across his face and he says, “I have my interview!”

  I’m honestly thrilled for Timmy, and I clap my hands in excitement. “Great, who is it?”

  His smile fades into a smirk and my eyes narrow as I wait for him to tell me whom he’ll be interviewing. “Ashley Greene.”

  I roll my eyes up as I try to recall this name from my memory, but I come up short. On a whim, I guess this is the girl from Twilight. Timmy looks at me knowingly and confirms. “Are you ready? When is it?”

  Timmy starts packing up his bag, and as we exit the building he fills me in on his line of questions. He doesn’t sound like he had as difficult a time as I did. I see Isaiah across the parking lot and I leave Timmy to catch Isaiah before he leaves.

  “Hey there. Where are you headed?”

  Isaiah looks down at me and although he tries to smile it’s more like a smirk and his eyes are hardly open. “To the house. I have to get some sleep.” He sighs. “There’s this girl who has been keeping me up at all times of the night.”

  With my hand on his arm I say, “Oh yeah?” We walk towards his car. “I thought you had all this youthful energy. Could stay up all night and wake up early in the morning without a problem.”

  He yawns and points to himself. “Did I say that? I must have been trying to impress you.” He leans on his car. “I realized today, after my third cup of coffee of course, that I’m no longer in college.”

  I'm tempted to invite myself to his house, but I'm not ready to be in his space. Instead, I lean in for a hug and look up at him and say, "I'll let you get some sleep tonight. I have my interview tomorrow but maybe after, we can get together?"

  “Sounds like a plan.” He grabs my hand and rubs his thumb across my palm. “Are you ready for the interview?”

  My nose scrunches and I hesitate. Isaiah pulls back and looks at me with a concerned look. “Are you nervous?”

  My face eases and for the first time I accept that I am nervous. Interviewing students on campus, and doing research to come up with content are different from interviewing a celebrity. A guy who is sexy and single at that. "Yeah, I'm nervous."

  Isaiah wraps his arms around me and gently squeezes. “I can’t even imagine. I only deal with machines. But I believe preparation transcends every facet of life. Take tonight to get ready.” He leans down and kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you when you finish and can’t wait to hear how well it went.”

  On my ride to the field where I'll be meeting with Dante Jones, I blast my music in hopes to get out of my head. I had another call with my dad this morning where he peppered me with information. He gave me a brain dump last night, but when I started crossing facts he offered to call me in the morning with only a few facts that were important.

  The parking lot of EverBank Field isn't packed, but the cars that are present are impressive. There are fair shares of convertibles, which are appropriate for the weather here in Jacksonville.

  The public relations office directed me to the field where I see a few players stretching near the sideline. When I make it to the field, a guy whom I recognize as Dante smiles and jogs towards me. He stretches out his hand for me to shake and I’m drawn to his flexing bicep that is bulging from his Jaguars t-shirt. “Laila, right?”

  I release his hand and look into his dark brown eyes and nod my head. “Nice to meet you, Dante.”

  He points to the seats and I follow behind him. My questions flow, starting with his alma mater, University of Florida, his love of water sports, and his philanthropic work for underprivileged youth. “You’ve done your research.” He gazes at me then says, “Impressive.”

  My stomach turns a few loops as I know I have a line of questions that isn’t going to come out as impressive. “Last season, you had a career high record in …” I look at my notebook as I try to recall the stat.

  Dante laughs and says, “Rushing yards. A career high in rushing yards.”

  “Sorry.” I sigh. “I am not well versed in football terminology.”

  “I
t’s cool. I’ll forgive you for that.” He places his hand on my pen that is tapping continuously on my notepad.

  "Let's just say you are an excellent running back. I'm more intrigued by your life off the field. How do you feel about Jacksonville? Do you spend the off season here or somewhere else?"

  “As long as you promise you won’t go into sports journalism, I’ll let you divert the conversation.” He smiles widely. “Jacksonville is okay. I’m just glad I’m still in Florida.”

  Dante tells me about some of his favorite restaurants in Jacksonville and then tells me about his favorite after hour spots. As we wrap up, I stand and he offers to walk me to the entrance, so I'm not lost in the maze of walkways through the stadium.

  “What are your plans after you graduate?” Although Dante is making more money than I could even know what to do with I remind myself that he is only a couple of years older than me.

  “I’m hoping I have at least an offer here at the magazine, but not sure I’ll be returning to Jacksonville if I have other options.”

  He nods his head and says, “Well I hope you have options but Jacksonville wouldn’t be that bad off if you returned here.”

  I thank him again and turn to take the exit out of the stadium. He grabs my hand and I turn around and look at him with anticipation.

  “Laila, I’d like to take you out before you head back to school.”

  I breathe and try to compose myself as I consider his offer. In all my digging into his background I didn’t find anything about a recent girlfriend. “Sure, I’d like that.” His hand leaves mine and reaches around to my back, roaming as he starts to lean into me. His other hand goes up the front of my shirt and when it finds a place under my bra he kisses me. He deepens our kiss and as I get lost in the moment I hear a camera flash.

  He shouts, “What the fuck.” Turning to me, he apologizes, then whispers in my ear, “I’ll get your info from our PR department. Let me take care of these dudes. When I turn around, walk through that door.” He nods towards a door and I walk away as soon as he turns his back.

  Chapter Five

  “How. The. Hell. Did you manage to snatch a kiss from Dante Jones?” Nicole shouts into the phone. Dante’s effort to rid the image of him kissing me was an epic failure.

  "I interviewed him and he was polite. We may have been flirting.” I roll my eyes as I think about how Isaiah will feel after he finds out about the kiss.

  “Being polite my ass. Being polite would be complying with the interview. Flirting would be shooting his shot. Getting your phone number.” She laughs. “Kissing you as if y’all were alone in a bedroom is a bit different.”

  “I know. But this story that they printed is much worse.” I stare at my computer screen trying to understand who would write a story with little to no truth.

  “They make you sound like a kid. Like he was molesting you on the playground or something.” Nicole sighs. “Have you talked to him?”

  “No, but I’m sure he’s seen this story.”

  My phone is beeping with text alerts and I can only imagine what everyone has to say about the image splashed across social media. I’ve yet to hear from my parents, but I should probably give them the story before they find out about it on their own.

  “Guess there isn’t anything to say. But how was that kiss?” She gaffs into the phone. “Hell, it had me hot and bothered.”

  “Girl.” I hang up the phone with Nicole, promising to call her as soon as I hear anything else from Dante, and I take a deep breath before dialing the number to the intern coordinator.

  “Hello.” Her singsong voice turns apprehensive after she realizes it’s me. “Laila. I’m glad you called.”

  The explanation I had prepared falls short and I can only say, “I was not expecting him to kiss me.”

  "Listen, your life outside of the magazine is your business, and for this assignment, it isn't that big of a deal. But just know, one day, your relationship with the subject of an article could call into question your integrity and perspective." I hear her typing before she says, “And Laila, do you have any idea who would want to ruin his reputation?”

  “No. Not at all.” I’m sure the fact that he works with underprivileged youth caused them to exaggerate our age difference.

  “And Laila be careful. There are only a handful of celebrities in this town. Whoever has it out for him obviously was able to get the attention of the newspaper. It’ll stay newsworthy till it’s debunked." I hear her warning loud and clear. It's not my intention to date Dante. Going out with him will be a one-time thing.

  I place my head in my hands as I dial home to speak to my parents. My dad answers the phone, “Laila Jackson.” My full name? Guess he’s heard already. Then my mom is in the background praying to God.

  “Dad. The kiss was nothing. But there was someone nearby who took a picture. And you know how people are these days. Before I could even get back to the dorms the picture was on social media.”

  “What do you mean the kiss was nothing? I damn near blushed when I saw that picture. And didn’t you go there for an interview?”

  “Yes, he kissed me as I was leaving.”

  "Not professional, Laila. You are supposed to be at that internship to have a place to work when you graduate. When you graduate, you will be out of my pocket, and need to make your own money." How could he possibly turn this around to talk about money? Wait. Of course, it's my dad. Everything is about money.

  "I know dad. It was out of my control. Can I talk to mom?"

  My mother grabs the phone and says, “Laila. You need to be careful. You don’t want to be connected to a football player. Do you?” She calls out to God a few more times and then says, “Laila, what are you going to do? I know that you are not a kid, but anyone else in the world may think you are some hormone-raged kid. Worse, that he is some pedophile.”

  “I don’t know, mom. I’ll have to try to figure out who would put out that lie.”

  “Well call me later. I need to keep tabs on you.”

  “Mom, Dante Jones is not a serial killer. I don’t have some stalker following behind me.”

  “Laila…”

  Before she can call me by my full name, I interrupt her and say, "Alright, mom. I'll call you later tonight. Love you."

  I check my many text messages and disregard most of them until I see one I wasn’t prepared to see.

  Josh: Dante Jones? Is that the guy you are dating?

  I should give him a call, but instead, I type out a text reply. After reading it, I realize a call would be easier to explain.

  "Hey, Josh."

  Although I'm sure he is upset I can't tell by his voice. I think he could be smiling.

  “Laila. I thought hearing your voice would make me upset. But strangely, I’m not.”

  “I tried to text you back. But it was harder than I thought. Anyway, I’m not dating Dante Jones.” Which doesn’t sound much better than me randomly kissing him. “I interviewed him, and after the interview he kissed me.” Sounds innocent.

  “I’m not worried about that. Honestly. I’m more worried about how I felt when I was thinking you could be getting serious with someone else right now.”

  "I feel like our timing is always, always, off. Right now I'm not trying to be serious at all. Especially not with any of these guys here in Jacksonville."

  “You’re right … our timing is always off. I was hoping this time we could sync up, but it looks like we may miss the boat again.”

  A lump catches in my throat and I feel tears threatening to fall. “I wouldn’t count us out just yet.”

  “Thanks for calling. I should get going though.” I hang up the phone and close my eyes. That conversation was almost as tough as my last conversation with Chris. To think I still haven’t even spoken to Isaiah yet.

  In the midst of all this drama, I almost forgot I have to draft the interview in preparation for the magazine. Turning off my phone I zone into my computer and review my notes from the interview.
Thinking about Dante's life off the field, he seems like a decent guy, and he certainly had a humble spirit. He could have easily been overly cocky and conceited, but instead he was easy-going.

  As I begin to type, I focus on his life as a Jacksonville resident, mentioning his favorite eateries and party spots. I wrap the article up with what Jaguar fans can expect from him next season. I can only hope by the time this article is released whoever planted the story is ousted and the truth revealed. I’m tempted to update my article byline with my age.

  Someone knocking on the dorm door snaps me back to the here and now. When I open the door, a delivery man is standing there with an armful of stuff blocking his face. He pokes his head around a vase full of roses and says, "I'm looking for Lala Jackson."

  I raise my brow and correct him by saying, “It’s Laila, and that’s me.”

  “Where’d you like me to sit this? I need you to sign.”

  The dorm furniture is scarce but there is a table near the door, and I point towards the table as I take the clipboard to sign the receipt.

  After he finishes I close the door behind him. I dig through the flowers and find a card. I rip open the envelope, being careful not to tear the inner card.

  Thanks for the interview.

  Sorry about the story.

  Not sorry about the kiss.

  Dante

  How’d he get my address? I open the box of candy and eat a milk chocolate truffle. The chocolate melts on my tongue and I close my eyes as I enjoy the piece of heaven disguised as candy. This candy alone is enough to bribe someone into giving Dante my address. Looking down at the box of candy I ignore my desire to scarf down each of the eleven remaining pieces at once.

  Instead of indulging I sit on the bed and dial Isaiah’s number before I lose my sugar induced strength. “I take it the interview went extremely well.”

  “It did go well.” This is the reason people text instead of call. Discussing this with Isaiah is awkward.