The look on Dev’s face was heartbreaking. She was truly in shock. She was completely clueless. Hell, so was I, for that matter. I was normally the expert detective, but even I did not see any of that coming.
The street crowd stood around looking in awe. It was clear that she wasn’t a threat to anyone except Mel. His boys ran over to try to de-escalate the situation before the club bouncers had to step in. A few of Mel’s friends looked after him. He was in a daze. The others attempted to get control of the woman scorned and hustle her down the street. She was still screaming and yelling venomous obscenities at Mel as they pushed her away.
Dev was visibly disturbed and rightfully so. The man that she had grown to like and spent so much time with had a woman, and he had been blatantly deceptive. She and Nikki linked arms and walked toward Mel’s friend’s car. In the midst of his disoriented state, Mel tried to call out to Dev, but she kept walking. She would no longer acknowledge him. He not only had disrespected her by making her the other woman, but he’d also put her in harm’s way for the second time and embarrassed her publicly. She was completely done and she did not even have to say a word. We all knew it.
Everyone had just climbed into the car and shut their doors when Mel’s boy—the one driving us home—started going off. “Yo, he’s a dumb-ass motherfucka, son!”
We all looked around in silence. But then I couldn’t resist, as always, and I chimed in with a simple, “I agree.”
“Yo, Dev, I’m sorry you had to be a part of all that,” his friend continued. “Shit is crazy.”
“Thank you for taking us home. I really appreciate it,” Dev said, and that’s all she offered. I could tell that her anger was starting to set in.
The remainder of the car ride was silent. Once we were in the apartment, tension and anxiety were filling the silence.
“Dev, you cool?” Sydney asked.
“No, I’m not. I’m fucking pissed off!” Dev said as the veins bulged from her neck. “I want to call his trifling ass and curse him the fuck out, but what good would that do? He already knows that he ain’t shit. No, what I really want to do is clock his ass upside the head like his chick did. Blocakah!”
It wasn’t funny at the time, but now that we were home safe and sound, we could laugh our hearts out about that blitz, Rambo-style attack. She got him good.
Nikki shifted the energy back after we had a good laugh. “I heard one of Mel’s boys asking how the girlfriend knew where we were. There was speculation that one of the trophy girlfriends must have called her.”
“Now that’s a trip,” I said.
Nikki continued, “So that’s probably why she was outside ready and waiting because she had already gotten the play-by-play from inside.”
“Dev, I don’t know if you remember, but there was a girl by Mel’s table that kept breaking her neck to be in your face. She was with the guy who had on the white linen outfit,” I explained. “I would bet money she knew what was about to go down.”
“Vaguely, I remember thinking that her breath smelled horrid. I wasn’t really trippin’ off of her, though.”
“That goes to show you, never know who’s watching,” Nikki said.
“Ummm, I know this may not be…uh, perfect timing,” Sydney chimed in. “But I still want to know who won the game!”
We all gave Sydney the side eye, but of course we wanted to know as well. So in a state of exhaustion after a chaotic night, we went through our phones and purses to tally up the numbers.
“This is hilarious,” Dev said. “After all of the mess that happened tonight, we are sitting here with the sun coming up counting phone numbers for points.”
“Well, we need to crown a winner. The girls leave today,” I said with a shrug.
“I guess I should be looking at seriously keeping and calling some of these dudes after tonight’s revelation,” Dev said.
“Couldn’t hurt.” I smiled.
We were all huddled up on Dev’s queen-sized bed when we compared our totals to figure out that Nikki was the winner. We were working off of the honor system and Nikki claimed to have made twenty-three “transactions,” so she won by a slight margin.
She squealed with excitement and way too much energy, but we let her have her moment. I was ready to crash so I headed to my boudoir. I threw myself across the bed and lay there exhausted. What a night.
Chapter 11
Baller Times Two
My spirits were in a better place since the girls’ visit. I had not been as gloomy and emotionally burdened. The last few weeks were eventful and I wanted to try to keep that momentum going. Realizing that I was in a positive space, I made a conscious decision to make every effort not to go back to the negative slump that I had been in.
I’m in New York, a city that people from small towns are dying to experience. I have this opportunity in the palm of my hands, so it’s up to me to squeeze it tightly and make the most out of it. Go hard or go home.
Motivation was in the air. I treated myself to a trip to my favorite place for inspiration and clarity, the Brooklyn Museum. It’s one of the largest and oldest museums in the country. The contemporary art spoke to my yearning to create. I would stare at contemporary pieces for hours on end. The use of different mediums to make the works come alive always left me feeling joyous. I felt like I could create anything with my hands and conquer my goals.
Working in public relations allowed me to create in a slightly different way, whether it was crafting press releases or coming up with fun promotional ideas, I think that is what drew me to a life of PR. I was wholeheartedly ready to get back in the game.
Day after day I kept pounding the pavement and scouring the Internet to find the perfect job. My little fingers would tap away at the computer’s keyboard keys researching prospective companies, looking for freelance writing opportunities, and checking my email. Sometimes I would get slightly discouraged with all of the auto replies waiting in my inbox. I was dying for a real live person to respond at least once.
Chatting with my Jolie every other day really helped me stay encouraged during the job search. She was very spiritually in tune and always had positive things to say. She would offer up great ideas. Sometimes I wished that I could be more like her, but much of her positive energy and optimism had come with age and learning as she’d gone through life.
During the next couple of weeks, I received interest from mediocre companies and great companies alike. I examined every potential opportunity with a critical eye and took meetings with those that truly caught my interest. Things were starting to pick up.
One random Tuesday I was flicking back and forth between CNN and HGTV when my cell phone rang. Typically only three people called me during the day: my Jolie, Dev, or Kari. I ran to the phone and realized that it was a New York area code but not a number that I knew. I cleared my throat.
“Hello, Scottie speaking,” I said in my professional voice.
“Hi, Scottie, I’m Caroline Stinger with Human Resources and I’m calling from The League regarding your application for the publicist position.”
You are fucking kidding me. Get a grip and don’t scream. This is one of the leading sports leagues; don’t act pressed.
“Hi…hi, how are you?”
“Excellent, is this a good time for you?” she asked.
“Sure.”
She didn’t know that most recently, I had been curled up on the bed watching TV. Of course I could talk. I had nothing but time to talk. She probably expected that I was in an office setting at the moment and needed to slip away into a conference room to chat. Not!
“We would like to bring you in to meet with the hiring manager, Joel Tumblin, and me before the end of the week. Would you be able to come to our office on Thursday at ten?”
“Sure, that works great.”
“Terrific. I’ll email you shortly to confirm and supply you with all of the details.”
“Perfect, thank you so much,” I said, trying to temper my excitement.
“I look forward to meeting you on Thursday.”
After I hung up the phone, I started pacing and talking myself through the excitement. I was elated at the thought of the opportunity. I needed to call my Jolie, then The Clique and Kari—in that order—to let them know the good news.
Thursday came around, and I was beyond prepared. When I arrived to meet with the HR lady at The League’s office in midtown, she was ready and waiting for me. Caroline was a petite woman wearing what looked like a JCPenney suit with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. She offered a stern but pleasant smile, then led me to a very drab and basic meeting room off the lobby. You could tell that the space was designated strictly for Human Resources interviews.
Once we were locked in the room with no windows, we discussed a bit of my background and the position. Sports had never really been my main interest, but I thought that it could be fun to give it a try. I did all the proper research to make sure that I didn’t make a complete ass out of myself in the interview.
After a successful meeting with HR—that luckily did not involve much grilling on the sports side—Caroline took me to meet with Joel Tumblin, the hiring manager. He seemed like a very genuine guy. Clearly, he was not a recent former athlete. His waist-line made his navy blue shirt look as though it were grasping for air. He was a big teddy bear. He offered me a glass of water, which I respectfully declined. Then we went through a range of questions as he told me more specifically about the position.
“Just curious, what are your top three daily go-to sources of news?”
I looked him in his eyes. “New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today.”
Joel must have liked my answer. “I think you are a great candidate so I would like to bring you back in to meet with one of my colleagues.”
“Okay, fantastic!” I had to give him the extra enthusiastic voice.
As Joel walked me to the lobby, he let me know that Caroline would be in touch to schedule my next meeting.
Like that, I was out of there. Dev’s office was not that far away in the Fashion District so I decided to stop by. It was lunchtime so we went to Chipotle to grab a salad. Over grilled chicken, corn, salsa, cheese, and sour cream creations, I ran down every detail of the interview.
“Wow, I hope you get this job,” Dev declared. “Man, if you do, we are gonna be in there!”
I chuckled. “Why are you so crazy?”
“I’m so serious!” Dev exclaimed, with almost more excitement than me. “If you get hired, then we have the inside track and I’ll finally get to snag me a baller! I better start up my Kanye Workout Plan ASAP.”
“Please stop. I really can’t take you right now,” I said. “Look, even if I get the job, which I don’t have yet, I doubt that I’ll ever have a chance to hook anyone up. Plus, what would I say? Um, excuse me. Do you want to see a picture of my friend? She is really cute and looking for a baller to wife her. She’s been on the Kanye Workout Plan religiously.”
Dev rolled her eyes and I laughed. The thought of getting the job had me excited, though. The opportunity to have The League on my resume would be huge, but I didn’t want to get too worked up to get let down.
Caroline from HR was very on top of it. By the time that I got back to the apartment, she had already emailed me a proposed time and date for the second interview. As I continued to check my emails, I noticed an unfamiliar name buried among party invites and spam. It was an email from a record label that I’d applied to. The date indicated that it was two days old. They wanted me to come in for a meeting next week as well.
Things were definitely starting to heat up and I was thrilled. I called Kari to tell him the good news. He was equally excited for me.
“Babe, you are killing the game right now,” he said. “Who’s gonna be calling next? The White House?”
“Please hush,” I said, shunning his ludicrous notion. “You are so silly. But really, thank you for being so supportive and enthusiastic about all of my minor wins.”
“You are an amazing woman. I want to see you succeed and do major things.”
“Thank you, baby.”
“You’re welcome. Now enough with all of that,” Kari said. “Let’s celebrate this win. I’ll come over and cook you dinner tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan to me!” I felt a happiness that was new and scary at the same time.
Kari was such a sweetie. After working all day, he went to the store and picked up the groceries for his special meal. I offered to go food shopping for him, but he declined my offer. He wanted to keep the ingredients a surprise. I respected his wishes and told him to plan to make enough for Dev as well since I knew that she would be home.
Dev had been around the apartment more since things with her and Mel had crumbled. Mel still tried to call her every now and then. She would never answer. At one point, he even got slick and tried to call from other people’s phones, but once she identified the voice, she would always hang up just the same.
She hadn’t been in a complete funk, though. She had a few dates here and there but nothing serious. She wanted to lay low on the guy tip for a minute. Hence, she found herself home with Kari and me on our dinner date. It was cool, though. They got along well so the three of us always had fun together.
Kari was serious about his meal. He moved around the kitchen like a madman sweating and even talking to himself in short whispers. He didn’t want us to get too close to his kitchen and his recipe. So he slaved over the stove while Dev and I sipped on wine and chatted him up from the other side of the room.
“Dinner is served, ladies,” Kari finally said, complete with a cheesy grin.
“Thanks, babe. You are too kind to us.” I jokingly smacked him on the butt and gave him a thank-you kiss. “You know I like a man who knows his way around the kitchen.”
This was one of maybe five meals that he could make. His presentation consisted of smothered chicken breasts, sautéed vegetables, and yellow rice. It was so cute how extra proud of himself he was. As for me, this was more than any man had ever cooked for me. I appreciated the time and effort.
Over dinner, we talked about the potential job opportunities that were now coming my way. Kari and Dev both gave me their feedback as to which job they would prefer me to have. This was all premature, though. I did not have an offer from either company and furthermore, I had not even met with the record label yet.
After dinner, Kari and I cleaned the kitchen before heading to my room for some quality time. I really liked that Kari never had any expectations when it came to sex and me. Sure, he wanted it like any other man, but he was always so easy breezy about things. I never felt like every time we were alone, he was going to put in his best attempt to sex me up.
He liked to cuddle as much as I did. He would hold me close in his diesel arms and whisper in my ear. It always made me feel like I was in a fairy tale. I loved the time that we would spend together and the intimacy that we shared. I also liked the idea of being his girl, though sometimes I would get anxiety about my relationship being too good to be true. I had never had this before. I had a man who cared about me and was always there when I needed him. He had no problem telling me, heck the whole world, how he felt. Our relationship was never a secret to anyone; not his friends, my friends, colleagues or even strangers. Kari had nothing to hide. He would do little things to try to reassure me that he was serious about us, but because of my past, I still had my reservations.
Chapter 12
A Woman With Options
After a month-long interview process with The League and completing multiple writing samples for both positions, I had two offers on the table. With one offer from The League and the other from the record label, I was elated. Only two months prior, I was unemployed, depressed and unsure of my future.
The toughest part was still to come. I had a decision to make. I liked sports, however, I loved music. But The League was willing to pay a higher salary. This would not be easy. I called my Jolie to talk it out. She sugg
ested that we go over the pros and cons of each opportunity. After speaking to both my Jolie and my dad, I had a better idea as to which position I would select. When I met up with Kari, he was very supportive and surprisingly, contrary to personal interests, he did not try to sway me one way or the other.
“Go with what your gut is telling you, baby,” Kari said. “You are the one that has to do the work and be happy with it.”
If anyone knew the realities of doing the work, Kari, a fellow publicist, did.
“I think I know what I’m going to do, but I want to sleep on it before making my final decision.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
I smiled as my head rested on Kari’s chest. I wasn’t sure what I was smiling about exactly, but I was in a good space in the moment and I could get used to the feeling.
“What do you think about a trip to Atlantic City to celebrate?” Kari asked.
“I’ve never been,” I said. “That would be a perfect getaway weekend before I start the new gig!”
“That’s what I was thinking, a nice relaxing trip to start you off right.”
It was settled. We were going to Atlantic City.
The next morning, I awoke with a clear head. I was focused on what I needed to do. I called The League to accept the position and my second call was to the record label to respectfully decline their offer. A sense of calm flowed through my body and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Once Kari finished up with his client, we were on our way to mini-Las Vegas. The drive to Atlantic City was not as long as I imagined it would be, maybe two-and-a-half hours at most. When we arrived, I felt like we were in a sleepy, small town, but as we moved closer to the action, I got more of the Vegas, high-rise casino feel.
To my surprise, Atlantic City was situated along a beach board-walk. A casino on the beach was a completely new concept to me.
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