by Chanta Rand
“Thank you. That really means a lot to me.”
“And since you believe in giving second chances, how about giving me one?”
She was taken aback. She hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. In her world, people were polite and always politically correct. Tristan was so raw. “Why do you even care?” she asked
“Because I want to get to know you better. I want to know the nice lady I met in the elevator. I thought we had a connection.”
She shook her head. “That was when I thought you were a doctor.”
“Was that why you blew up in Viola’s office? You’re mad ‘cause I’m not a doctor?”
“I don’t like deception, in any form,” she explained. “Your occupation has nothing to do with it. And yes, I do believe in second chances, when I meet someone worthy of one.”
“I am worthy, Alexa.” He gave her a determined look. “Look, let’s start all over.” He extended his hand to shake hers. “I’m Tristan Rexford, quarterback for the California Predators.”
She returned his handshake. “Nice to meet you.”
“I think you’re a classy lady and I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”
Alexa felt the warmth of his palm spread through hers. His touch was strong, yet tender. His hand completely enveloped hers and she couldn’t help but marvel at the size and strength of him. They were alone in her office, just the two of them. He looked good and smelled good. Hell, he even sounded good. The man was definitely charming. And if she weren’t careful, he’d charm the skirt right off her. She had to stop this game before it went too far.
“You don’t need to take me to dinner, Tristan,” she said, pulling her hand from his. “It’s really not necessary. I believe you’re a good guy.”
“Then let me prove it. Let me take you out tonight,” he persisted.
When she hesitated, he playfully teased. “Is this how you handle your sponsors? Don’t I at least get wined and dined?”
Alexa held her breath. Tristan had to be the handsomest brotha she’d ever laid eyes on. He’d been blessed with talent, good looks and a body that would make most women blush from head to toe. But she was not here to be tempted by him. She had a job to do. “I don’t think …”
“Besides, I’m in need of medical treatment,” he added.
“I only specialize in burns,” she reminded him.
He gave her a smoldering look. “I’ve been burned before. I’m still feeling the effects.”
She didn’t miss his double play on words. Jesus, how would she be able to make it through dinner with him? Her spacious office suddenly seemed claustrophobic. She felt trapped like a small animal. Tristan was entirely too close to her. She slowed her breathing and forced herself to calm down. She weighed her options. If she refused to go out with him, the Board might not like it. On the other hand, if she agreed to go out with him, she could be done with him once and for all.
“Okay,” she finally relented. “Meet me at The Library at eight o’clock tonight.”
“The Library?” he asked. “You worried about your overdue books?”
She forgot he was not a Dallas native. “The Library is a bar located inside the Melrose Hotel. We can meet there for cocktails.”
“I’ll be there,” he promised. His dark eyes sparkled with unhidden desire.
Before she could change her mind, he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. Damn, what just happened? She was normally self-assured and in control. She rarely backed down and she was never bullied into doing something she didn’t want to do. Yet, in the span of a few hours, she’d let herself be manipulated into going on a date with one of the world’s most desirable athletes. And she didn’t even like football!
Lord, what have I done?
Chapter Three
Back in his hotel suite, Tristan stood in the spacious shower. Hot needles of water pelted his skin from multiple directions of the six showerheads. The water felt good. Just what he needed after his long day.
It had only been eight hours since his tour at Mercy. After he’d left the hospital, he’d gone to Northpark Mall to pick up a few souvenirs for his family. A diamond bracelet for his mom. A pair of ostrich boots for his father. Baccarat crystal for his sister. A pair of Salvatore Ferragamo loafers for his brother. And a half dozen iPods for his nieces and nephews. He walked unrecognized through the stores thanks to the quick thinking of his bodyguard, Lou, who had the good sense to bring a baseball cap and some dark glasses when he picked him up from the hospital.
Tristan rarely went anywhere without Lou. Lou also served as his personal driver, sporting an eight series Beemer that Tristan bought him as a Christmas gift a few years ago. He wasn’t the typical looking bodyguard. The average person wouldn’t even notice him. He always hung a few steps back, acting just like a regular guy in the crowd. But if any crazed fan got too close to Tristan, they would have to answer to Lou. He was a former marine, trained in Jujitsu, and he wasn’t scared of a damn thing.
Tristan emerged from his brief shower ten minutes later. It was already ten past seven, and he didn’t want to be late meeting Alexa. He opened the shower door and grabbed a thick towel from the heated towel rack. He shook his head. Texas was too damn hot for those types of luxuries. He didn’t know how anyone survived here. The temperature today had almost hit the century mark. He longed for the cooler climate of California. It was true L.A. had its own problems, like smog, but at least you could walk outside without catching a heatstroke. He splashed on some cologne and wrapped the towel around his waist. When he opened the bathroom door, he saw Lou sprawled out in the living room area, watching ESPN on the huge flat screen TV. Tristan always booked two suites, and Lou always slept in the adjoining suite.
“Hey T,” Lou said, never taking his eyes off the screen.
“Whaz up, Louie?”
“Nothing.”
“Who’s playing?”
“Red Wings.”
“Again?”
“Yeah.”
“You bet on it?”
He saw Lou grin. “You know I did.”
Tristan smiled to himself. Lou was born and raised in Detroit. He rarely missed a Red Wings game. It might seem weird to some people that a black man enjoyed hockey so much. But anyone who’d ever been to Detroit knew that there were two teams people loved there: The Pistons and the Red Wings. But to Lou, it really didn’t matter what sport was being played. He was addicted to sports. Little League Baseball could have been on the tube for all he cared.
“For your sake, I hope they win,” Tristan said.
“Me too. Anything you need me to do before your date?” Lou asked.
“Nope.”
“Anything you need for the lady?”
Tristan turned to the mirror and began brushing his goatee. Most of the women he kept company with didn’t expect much, other than to be seen on his arm. He never gave them gifts or anything. If he did, they would think they were special. So far, none of them seemed to mind when he arrived empty-handed. “Nah. I’m good, Lou. Thanks anyway.”
“All right then. Let me know when you’re ready.” A commercial came on and Lou stood up, stretched like a big cat, and then retreated to his own suite. He’d drive Tristan to the restaurant tonight and keep an eye out for any nutty fans.
Tristan retrieved a pair of white slacks and a matching shirt from his closet. He was almost finished dressing when his cell phone rang. He knew by the “Funkytown” melody that it was his younger brother, Nick.
He picked up the phone smiling. “Whaz up baby brother?” Nick was only five years younger than he was. But at six-foot two, three hundred and twenty pounds, he could hardly be classified as a baby anything.
“Playa, playa, what’s up?” Nick’s deep baritone filled the air.
“Nothing much,” Tristan answered. “Just chillin’ in Dallas.”
“Shit, sweatin’ is more like it.”
“Nah, you know I’m too cool for that.”
Nick laughe
d. “Yeah, right. You better get your six million-dollar ass back to Cali before it melts. You ain’t a free agent yet.”
Tristan grinned. Nick wasn’t talking about the old TV show, The Six Million Dollar Man. He was talking about Tristan’s contract amount. It was thirty-six million over six years, which had affectionately earned him the title of the Six Million Dollar Man from his family. He’d also gotten a twelve million dollar signing bonus and the option to be a free agent in the seventh season. Next year, he knew the scouts would come hounding him. He was still young and everyone wanted a piece of him. But he had no plans on leaving the Predators. He was happy and well paid.
He heard a child yelling in the background. It was one of his nieces. He couldn’t tell which one. Hell, no one could tell any of Nick’s daughters apart. They were triplets. “How are the girls?” Tristan asked.
“They’re asking if you’re coming to the party.”
“The party?” Tristan asked.
“Tomorrow.” Nick paused. “Aw man, don’t tell me you forgot.”
“You know I didn’t forget,” Tristan lied. There was no way he could remember all the birthdays in his family. Tristan’s older sister, Debra, also had three kids. He relied on his mother to keep him up to speed. Good thing he’d already bought the iPods. He didn’t know what else to get for three six-year olds. He already knew Nick didn’t want them to get too spoiled, so he’d probably just put some extra money in their college fund. “Whatcha got lined up? Pony rides for the whole neighborhood?”
Nick chuckled. “No. We booked that clown from the Disney Channel.”
Tristan didn’t remember the clown’s name, but he’d watched the show a few times with his nieces. “No sweat. I’ll get there early so I can check this dude out.”
“Good. You flyin’ in tonight?”
“Uh, no. I have plans tonight. But I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
“Let me guess. Some southern belle gonna give you a taste of her blackberry pie?”
Tristan laughed. “You are truly ignorant, you know that?”
“I’m truly jealous,” Nick laughed with him. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You get to travel and get all the booty you want.”
“It ain’t like that, Nick. This is business. It’s for the charity bachelor auction.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious. I’m going out for drinks with a representative from Mercy Hospital.”
“Is this rep fine?”
“Uh huh,” Tristan admitted. “She’s gorgeous.”
“I knew it! You landed yourself a freaky nurse?”
Tristan shook his head. “No, Alexa’s a doctor. She’s intelligent and classy. She’s compassionate. And she don’t take crap from nobody.”
“And she’s going out with you?”
“I told you, it’s business.”
“I don’t think so. I think you have a thing for her.”
“Whatever.”
“I can tell by the sound of your voice. You like her.”
Tristan didn’t answer right away. In a lot of ways, Alexa was just like the other women he’d known. She was beautiful. She was sexy. She was vulnerable. But in other ways, she was totally different from any other female he’d ever met. First of all, there was that attitude. She wasn’t afraid to tell him how she really felt. And she was smart. Not street-smart like some chicks he knew. She was an intellectual; the kind of woman he knew could represent him when he wasn’t around. She impressed him. Very few women had been capable of doing that.
When she took him through the burn unit today, her whole mood changed. He immediately sensed it. She was protective of her patients. He didn’t blame her. Even after he’d left Mercy, he kept thinking about that kid. He grew up worlds apart from Paul. His father had worked on the assembly line for Ford. His mother was a secretary. His parents had made good money and the family was well off. He’d gotten a football scholarship and had the sense to get a Communications degree. He knew he was fortunate. Paul was growing up without a father. And Alexa had grown up without her parents too. But she wasn’t bitter. She was tougher than concrete.
Yeah, maybe he did have a thing for her. She damn sure turned him on. At the hospital, he kept catching little whiffs of her perfume. It was sweet and feminine. He couldn’t lie. The whole time, he was thinking about doing all kinds of kinky things to her.
But he wasn’t ready to share his feelings about Alexa. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t even sure what it was that he felt. Maybe it was just lust. “I like Alexa as a person,” Tristan said. “I respect her for what she’s achieved.”
“Well, I’ve never known you to kick it with a woman who’s fine and classy and smart. She must be something special. But tell me, ain’t she outta your league?”
“A woman is a woman. They all have the same parts.”
“Okay,” Nick warned. “You keep believing that and see just how far you get with her.”
“Mind your own business.”
“If you really want to score points with her, bring her a nice gift. Like chocolates. Show her the other side of Tristan Rexford that the rest of the world never sees.”
Tristan changed topics. “I think I hear one of the girls crying for a bedtime story.”
“No, they already know I’m on the phone with the Big Bad Wolf.”
“Aw, you got jokes,” Tristan chuckled. “But still, I can’t help but feel sorry for you. I only have one woman to deal with – you have four!”
“Can I help it if I have super sperm? When I do something, I do it right the first time.”
Tristan laughed. “I gotta go, fool. See ya tomorrow.”
“Peace.”
Tristan hung up the phone still laughing. Nick always had a way of lifting his spirits. He couldn’t have asked for a better brother. There had never been any hard feelings between them. Even when Nick broke his leg in football practice in the eleventh grade, effectively ending his chances at playing professionally. With Tristan already in his first year in the league, drafted straight out of college, everyone assumed Nick would follow in his footsteps. He tried, but after his leg healed, his performance was never the same. Nick met his wife a few years later and he gave up on the NFL altogether. He said one professional athlete in the family was enough. Now, Nick had his hands full taking his three little girls to soccer practice and karate classes each week.
Lou knocked on his door. “Ready boss?”
“Yeah. You know where this place is?”
“Up the street about twenty minutes from here on Oak Lawn.”
“Does this hotel have a gift shop?”
“It’s open ‘till eight,” Lou answered. “You lookin’ for somethin’ special?”
“Yeah,” Tristan nodded. “Chocolate.”
* * *
At seven o’clock, Alexa finally called it quits. She found herself rushing to beat the clock as she steered her Mercedes convertible through traffic. She liked her car, but she didn’t know what had possessed her to get a convertible. It was stylish, but not functional. She rarely let the top down. For one thing, it was too damn hot. She didn’t want to get fried in the Texas sun. Secondly, she hated taking the time to style her hair, then having the wind blow it into the shape of a large bird’s nest. The last time she let the top down, she got out looking like a hot mess.
She made it to her apartment twenty minutes later, peeled her clothes off and jumped in the shower, knowing full well she would not make it on time. She hoped Tristan wouldn’t think she was one of those divas who made it a habit of keeping people waiting. What do you care? This is the last time you’re going to see him anyway.
That was true. Her plans with Mr. Rexford did not extend beyond tonight. She was a busy woman. Last time she checked, she did not work at the Texas Chamber of Commerce. She had no more time to play tour guide to him. Thanks to him, her day had already been disrupted. She hadn’t even got the chance to check on her grandfather, the one person who mattered most in t
his world to her.
After she showered, she stopped to call her Pawpaw. When he didn’t pick up by the fourth ring, she frowned. It didn’t usually take so long for him to answer. Her mind started thinking the worst. Was he okay? Had someone broken in? What if he’d fallen again and he was lying on the floor helpless? He had taken care of her for so long; she couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him.
Finally, she heard the gruff voice that had comforted her for so many years. “Hello?”
“Pawpaw, are you all right?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I’m right as rain.”
Alexa bit her lip. “I was just worried about you. How are you feeling?”
“Feeling great. And you?”
“I’m fine. I meant to stop by today for a visit.”
“Oh, don’t worry about coming by. Greta’s here. She bought dinner over.”
“Dinner? I usually take care of that for you. And who is Greta?”
“My friend. She’s been bringing me dinner every Friday for the last couple of months.”
Alexa was confused. “What? Why?”
“Because she wants to – and I want her to.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Nothing to tell. You’re a busy woman. I don’t like to bug you.”
She immediately felt remorseful. She’d been so involved with her work she’d started seeing less and less of her Pawpaw. “You are not bugging me. I’m sorry I didn’t get to stop by today. I got caught up at the hospital. I promise I’ll be there tomorrow and we can have lunch.”
“Stop worrying so much. Greta is keeping me company. What are you doing tonight?”
“I’m having drinks with a …colleague.”
“Sounds nice. It’s about time you found yourself a nice young man.”
“Pawpaw, this is a business function. It’s something I have to do for work.”
“Okay, well you can tell me all about it tomorrow when you come visit. Greta has my dinner ready now. I’ll talk to you later.”