Preseason Love

by Ahyiana Angel

  “If I hear anything else, I’ll be sure to let you know,” Latina said.

  “Thanks again, girl,” I said as we rushed off the line.

  When I got back to my desk, I started clicking around on the computer screen to appear busy, but I could not concentrate. I was furious that someone was blatantly lying on me. I was told when I got to New York that I would report to Barbra and work on her team. I was never supposed to be reporting to anyone else. However, I had heard the day prior that the company had lost one of its largest entertainment accounts to a competitor. I was sure that somehow it was all connected. I did not know if I should mention what I’d found out to Barbra or wait a day to see how things started to play out.

  I sat at my desk for about thirty minutes, ultimately doing nothing, when my phone rang. The caller ID showed a Los Angeles phone number. I answered. I heard a male voice on the other end.

  “Hi, Scottie. This is Roger.”

  Roger was one of the partners in the agency. I spoke to him in passing whenever I saw him in the Los Angeles office, but I never worked with him directly. Out of all the partners, I knew Steve the best and I worked with him the most. So I was a little confused as to why Roger would be calling me and why Steve was talking to VP’s about me behind my back. The day was getting stranger by the minute.

  “Hi, Roger. How are you?” I said.

  “I’m well, thank you,” he said, before delving straight into the reason for his call. “I know that you recently relocated to the New York office and I’m not sure how things have been going, but I’m calling you because some changes have been made and we will no longer be in need of your service.”

  I couldn’t believe that he called me to deliver this type of news. I was sitting at my desk, which was out in the open with no walls, no doors and no privacy. I had never been fired before, but I couldn’t imagine that this was a standard way of it happening.

  My eyes bugged out, and I did the only thing that I could do. I said, “Okay.”

  Roger continued to talk and I started to sweat. My stomach felt uneasy again and I wanted to hang up. He went on to say that I could finish out the day and work through the remainder of the week.

  Is this mothafucker crazy?!

  I politely told him straight up, “No thank you. My last day will be today.” Then I hung up.

  As soon as I got off of the phone with Roger, I walked out of the office and headed downstairs to call Dev.

  “Guess what the fuck just happened?” I said to Dev in an exasperated roar.

  “What?”

  “Roger, one of the partners from the Los Angeles office, called to tell me that I’m being let go.”

  “What?” Dev exclaimed. “Are you joking? Can they do that? What happened?”

  Dev sat on the other end of the line silent as I recalled the story. Once I finished, Dev said, “I’m coming up there. Let’s pack up yo’ shit and you out.”

  Dev had a calm to her voice before we hung up; she meant business. In the meantime, I went to talk with Barbra. She claimed that she did not have any prior knowledge as to what was going on. She said that the Los Angeles office called her right before Roger called me and that she had no say-so in the decision as it had already been made. According to Barbra, the powers that be didn’t even ask her about my performance on her team.

  Everything seemed overtly shady, but then again, this was a company that didn’t even have a real Human Resources department. What more could I expect?

  Dev showed up about twenty minutes later and we did as she’d said. We quickly packed up my minimal belongings and got the hell out of there. It was funny, though. While we were packing up, I told Dev that I actually felt good, and I did. For a brief moment after the initial call, I got in my feelings. My pride and my ego had been wounded, so I let a few salty tears stream down my cheek. But soon after, I had a moment of clarity and I felt free. Like a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. Working at a PR agency was too much stress for not enough money. It’s not like we were saving lives. Images maybe, but lives not so much.

  When Dev and I hit the streets, we didn’t have a plan. We had no clue where we were going or what was next. We let the cool evening breeze take us downtown on Eighth Avenue while we chatted about all of the drama that had unfolded in our lives over the past few days.

  She gave me the update on Mel. He had a court date in the coming weeks. She still wasn’t exactly sure what they’d found in his car since he refused to tell her anything. He said that he did not want to involve her. I cut my eyes at Dev.

  “You need to be careful being around Mel.”

  “I know, I know.” She nodded. “I spoke to The Clique and everyone else said the same thing.”

  “I’m serious. You don’t know what he is into. You have a lot to lose if you get caught up on a drug charge dealing with his bum ass,” I said. “He is cool to party with but nothing more.”

  “I get it, Scottie. Speaking of losing it, someone has been prank calling my cell phone lately,” Dev said. “It’s been happening more frequently now, and I have no clue who it could be.”

  “Really. Are you scared?”

  “Not really. More concerned.”

  Dev was the type to remain cool with most of her ex-lovers, so she highly doubted that it was one of them playing games. She had a likable personality and in all of the years that we had been friends, I never met a single person that did not like her. I didn’t have any suggestions for her.

  “Enough about me. What’s up with you and Kari?”

  “I’ll cut to what you really want to know, yes, we finally had sex.”

  Dev gave me a pinch on the cheek and in true girlfriend fashion, I gave Dev the entire juicy scoop on the unexpected developments between Kari and me. She was so excited and didn’t hesitate to pat herself on the back for suggesting that I take charge.

  “Okay, now that we’ve walked and talked our way through solving the problems of the world, where are we going?” I asked.

  “What do you want to do?” Dev said, “It’s pretty much your call since you had the roughest day.”

  “At this point I think I need a drink.”

  “Well, let’s do drinks and wings. Are you down for Buffalo Wild Wings?” Dev blurted out.

  “Let’s do it!”

  “Brooklyn, here we come!”

  Dev was such a sweetheart and a supportive friend. Before we got on the train to Brooklyn, she arranged an impromptu call with The Clique. All of my girls offered their encouragement and tried to assure me that things would work out for the best. I needed to hear their sweet voices.

  Once at Buffalo Wild Wings, we ate and drank and drank a little more. We called Dev’s dad before we were too tipsy to tell him about my getting fired. He was, of course, shocked. He gave us a pep talk and told us not to let the big bad city bring us down. He also told us to put our food and drinks on his tab, which was beyond nice. Dev knew what to do since her American Express card was under his account. When major changes in life occur, whether expected or unexpected, they help you to see who’s in your corner.

  When I got home that night, I was tipsy, but as long as I didn’t slur my words, I had to call my Jolie and fill her in. I couldn’t bring myself to call her earlier because she was a feisty little lady, and I knew that the news of my layoff was sure to rile her up.

  My Jolie answered the phone in her usual form. “What’s going on, honey? How you doin’?”

  Shockingly, my voice showed no signs of distress. Maybe it was the alcohol. “I’m okay. So let me get right to it. I got let go today.”

  “What! From your job?” she asked. Like I could have possibly been talking about something else. But I got it. She was in shock.

  “So what the hell happened?”

  I told her to tell Dad to get on the line, too. Then I proceeded to run down all of the shady events from the day. As I suspected, they wanted to come to New York and inflict pain on someone. After the initial anger died down, the
y let me know that they would help me however they could.

  I loved talking to my parents. They were always encouraging and offered amazing advice when I encountered tough situations. That night, I sat on the line and talked to them for more than an hour while they both reminisced on stories about their past work histories. Talking with my parents always eased my worries and gave me a renewed positive outlook. At that point, I wasn’t sure what type of help I would need, as I was still in a daze. But I knew that they always had my back.

  As the next few days went by, I got in touch with the unemployment office in California to request my dollars and cents. As I felt more comfortable with my reality, I slowly began to tell people about my situation. It was kind of awkward at first and slightly embarrassing, but I was not exactly sure why. It wasn’t like I’d been terminated for poor performance or doing something illegal.

  Almost a week had passed before I finally got around to telling Kari. We were on our way to a movie. While we were riding in the car, I sort of just said it. He was pissed that I had not mentioned anything sooner.

  “Why would you wait to tell me?” Kari asked. “You know I’m here for you and no matter what happens, I have your back.”

  “Thank you,” I said, not sure what else to say.

  “Do you need anything? Are you all right?” Kari asked, as he looked at me with concern.

  I nodded my head as I pretended to listen to him go on and on. But that phrase, “You know I’m here for you and no matter what happens, I have your back,” kept ringing in my ears. I honestly wasn’t certain what that meant coming from him.

  I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, but I tried my hardest not to let them fall. I guess I was so used to looking out for myself and taking care of myself that I couldn’t imagine a man who I liked having that much regard for my well-being and my feelings.

  Chapter 8

  Whose Life Is This?

  This was the life: party all night and sleep all day. The first few weeks of being out of work were reminiscent of my college days. I had no desire to look for a job. Lounging around the apartment was like a staycation. This was the first time in years that I’d had a significant amount of free time at my disposal.

  During the good days, I would sit around in my pajamas watching HGTV, entranced by every program on the network. I think the creativity and designs fostered nostalgia. Working with my hands was something that I learned from my maternal grandparents. When I spent time with them as a kid, they always had a project for me, whether it was helping my grandmother paint her patio furniture on a sunny afternoon, or sawing and sanding down two-by-fours of wood for a ramp that my grandfather was building at the church. They were old-school, Southern, do-it-yourself-type people, and I enjoyed every minute of the work because there was a connection and a bond that we established. The projects were a team effort and I learned what I came to know as valuable life lessons of independence, dedication, and accountability.

  I had no clue what my next move would be careerwise, but I would never work at an agency again. As the days turned into weeks and I found myself in similar, if not the same, routine, I began to wonder about the purpose of my existence. Then came the bad days. Where was my life going? There were times when I would lie across my bed in the silent apartment—pajama-clad with my hair uncombed and no desire to get dressed—wondering what was next, wracking my brain for answers.

  I wanted to call Kari every second of every day, especially when the boredom and stir-crazy feelings would set in. But I had to restrain myself. I didn’t want to come off as a lifeless stalker. Although he had been extremely supportive, I could not be in the business of depending on any man. It wasn’t like he had to be there for me. We were not married—hell, we weren’t even officially together for that matter. I needed to be realistic with my expectations.

  Over the next few weeks, we met in the city on occasion for dinner, art gallery openings, the occasional concert, or a movie night, but eventually I came to realize that my trips to the city had to be rationed. The costs of commuting in and out of the city were out of my budget. The unemployed life quickly became less than glamorous.

  Some nights I would stare at myself in the mirror looking for answers, only to realize that I was alone and extremely lonely. The reality was that I was scared. I was in a place where I did not have any of the comforts of home, and even if I desperately needed to cry on my Jolie’s shoulder, she was 2,000 miles away. I regularly ran short on covering my monthly expenses so I rationed dollars like it was the Depression era. Despite my best efforts to scale back, I still had to lean on my parents for extra cash. I felt like a dependent teenager again.

  Snacking and surfing the web became my new best friends and we spent way too much quality time together. Some days, I wouldn’t even allow the sun’s rays to shine through my bedroom window. The dark days matched my spirit. It was hard for me to express my emotions to those close to me. I wore my strength like a badge of honor. People say that we all go through a quarter life and a mid-life crisis, but I think there are many more crises in between that we don’t ever hear about.

  My emotions stayed unpredictable. Dev was constantly back and forth between our place and Mel’s, but she never questioned my employment situation. By the time I hit the three-month mark of unemployment, self-help and empowerment books had become a staple in my daily routine. However, that didn’t stop people from offering their advice and sending me crap jobs to apply for. That got old really quick. Didn’t they understand that I did not ask them for their help? Every single person that I knew in California asked when and if I planned on moving back. It was as if they thought that moving would be the answer to all of my problems. Hell no I won’t go! That’s what I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue and let them know that I planned to stick it out. I wasn’t a quitter.

  Kari picked up on the negative energy that I was giving off and he requested that I meet him in the city. I decided to get super cute for our date, even though I had no clue what we were doing. Kari was guaranteed to show up looking fly, so I had to stay on point. He had a very mature, GQ style and I couldn’t have women giving my date the eye while I sat there looking like a sack of rotten potatoes. I may have been unemployed with my life in shambles, but that didn’t mean that I had to look that way when I went out.

  Spring was in the air, so I slipped on a pastel-colored spaghetti strap dress that I had been longing to wear. It being my first spring in the city and a beautiful day, I arrived a bit early for my date and strolled around by myself. Since my trips to the city had become less frequent due to budget cuts, I missed roaming around. Groups of friends and couples alike were frolicking around and enjoying libations at restaurants with sidewalk seating, people were biking through the streets, and there were fewer layers of clothing on everyone. Manhattan was alive with free and happy inhabitants.

  Time slipped away from me as I wandered the streets daydreaming. I put a-pep-in-my-step and headed crosstown on Forty-second to meet Kari. He wasn’t the type to get pissed about me being a little late, but I did not want to be rude. I zigzagged through the crowded streets as fast as I could. Having already changed into my heels, my pace was slightly limited, but my dress flowed with every movement making it easier to maneuver swiftly.

  In finding your way about the city, you get used to physical contact with strangers. People were always bumping into you or sideswiping you as you walked down the street, but when I felt what seemed like a hand actually grabbing at my butt, I almost lost it. This is so out of line! Before I could rationalize how to react, my anger turned me around with my fist in motion. Kari jumped back to avoid my first swing and he chuckled a little as I stumbled. Luckily, he caught me. I felt slightly foolish.

  I gave him a smack on the chest for scaring the crap out of me, then we leaned in for a hug and his athletic build consumed me. It felt so right to be in Kari’s arms. He kissed me on the cheek and we strolled up the street hand-in-hand. He told me that we were headed to the Dream h
otel, which was in midtown. Getting there would be a bit of a hike in my heels—twelve blocks—but it was spring and they were wedges so I would survive. On a nice day it was kind of romantic to walk with your man friend through the city streets looking at the sights and letting the sounds be your soundtrack to life.

  This was my first time going to the Dream, but I’d heard great things about the rooftop ambiance. I came to appreciate hanging out with a man who took the time to explore new locations with me or introduce me to those that he was familiar with. Kari was thoughtful in that way.

  When we walked into the hotel lobby, it was stunning. Everything about the place was sexy or maybe I felt sexy.

  Kari took my hand in his and we headed to the rooftop. The scene wasn’t too crazy, so we snagged a table nestled in a corner. While I got situated, Kari ordered drinks at the bar. From across the room, I watched a woman with jet-black hair down to her butt and legs like a goddess saunter over to Kari. She tried to spark up a conversation. From what I could tell he politely responded to her and proceeded to collect the drinks that he ordered. As he walked back toward our table, I had a silly smirk on my face. Clearly, he realized that I saw the exchange. Kari was very respectful when it came to our situation, so I never worried about his eyes wandering or him being too flirty with other women in my presence. This was a dramatic difference from my previous situation with Ivan.

  After we finished our drinks on the rooftop, we decided to head to SoHo to shoot pool. I liked shooting pool with a man whom I was attracted to. The game allowed for a woman to be a bit seductive which could lead into some sassy flirting and serious sexual foreplay. If you were planning on going home together, the stage was then set for a nightcap full of fuckery and fun. On our way downtown, I may have talked up my pool game a tad bit, but as it turned out, I only won one out of four games so my shit-talking had to be kept to a minimum.

  The pool hall was blasting light-rock songs from a jukebox on the far wall, however, that didn’t prevent me from hearing my purse vibrating on the stool to my left. I reached in to grab my phone. When I saw the name on the screen, a rush of nerves filled my stomach. Telling Kari briefly that I would be back, I slipped away to the restroom.