Take A Knee

by Xyla Turner

  “I, uh, was supposed to get an externship.” He started then paused. “I fucked up, Zor. Like, fucked up.”

  His voice was rising signaling it was about to go into panic mode.

  “Calm down and tell me what happened,” I said in a stern tone.

  “Yeah, uh, in order to pass my final colloquium, I had to secure an externship. I did, but it wasn’t clear about the type of work. Since my major is sports management, they stated that my externship couldn’t be reporting to the manager of a fast food restaurant.”

  “You did that?” I gasped. “Holy hell.”

  “Well, I didn’t know what to do,” he exclaimed. “The rules are so strict. Nobody we’re related to could work at the establishment. So that counted you and the Vikings out. Then who else is there?”

  Sometimes, I think the boy smoked too much weed.

  “Morris!” I exclaimed. “There are dozens of other sports in the city of Philadelphia. Fuck, you could have even traveled to New Jersey or upstate. Shit, anywhere.”

  “Fuck, knew I shouldn’t have called you,” he sighed.

  “Don’t start that shit with me.” I snapped back. “You called me because you knew damn well, I could help you so you suck it up buttercup and grow some balls.”

  He was cursing under his breath but I didn’t give a good goddamn.

  Then I started to rattle off the teams where I knew people. I withheld mentioning the Warriors out of the eight teams I knew. However, when he said, “I’ve contacted all of them and they don’t have room. None of them.”

  Fuck.

  “If I don’t get a placement by this Friday, I won’t be able to graduate.” I swear the boy was whining. “Do you know anyone? A favor you could call in or something.”

  My mind went straight to Mr. Black. But, it would be a cold day in hell I’d ask him for a damned thing.

  “Have you tried the Warriors team?” I asked.

  “Yeah, they’re not taking anyone either,” he exclaimed.

  “Who did you speak with?” I asked.

  “Some lady. Everyone in our program already has the city on lock,” he sighed. “You don’t know anyone?”

  Goddamnit.

  “Try the Warriors again and ask for Mr. Harvey Black. He’s the owner,” I said. “I don’t know, though, but we met at an event a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Okay, okay. Shit, I’ll try that. Thanks so much Zor. Means a lot.” His voice was back to normal.

  What have I done?

  “Don’t thank me yet. He may not be able to,” I said. “You still may want to think of non-pro or the college league if that doesn’t work out.”

  “Yeah, but let’s try this. Non-pro or college won’t give me what I need for my career. But I’ll let you know.” He was ready to get off the phone. “Thanks again.”

  “Aight, Morris,” I said. “Keeping my fingers crossed.”

  “Thanks, going to need it.”

  I hung up.

  This boy was so spoiled, it was crazy. Trying to get over by doing his externship with his friend Girard at the Chicken Shack.

  Wow.

  What I didn’t know was how wow, my life was about to get.

  Chapter 4

  Harvey

  Wednesday was like any other day. Meetings, meetings and more meetings. Negotiations leverage, chess skills and nothing but playing the business game all damn day.

  I loved it. The hunt, the kill, the glory. Beating people who underestimated me as I came up through the ranks. No one expected me to come up and take all. They didn’t think I had the capital, the people or network. I showed all of those bastards and now I was on the come up and everyone knew it. More importantly, they knew they’d tried to blackball and denied me access, so I marveled in the fact they could eat shit. I’d forgotten not a fucking thing or one of them.

  “Sir, your four o’clock is here,” Janice’s announcement bounced off my office walls from the intercom.

  “Great, send him in.” I said after pressing the call button.

  In walked a young, strapping man, looking like every bit of a twenty-year-old with a black suit and a crisp expensive shirt.

  “Mr. Black,” he said with a smile.

  “Mr. McCoy.” I stood. “How can I help you?”

  Waving him to sit in the leather chair on the opposite side of my larger-than-life desk. I sat as well.

  “Well, as my email stated, I am a senior at the University of Pennsylvania and I need to acquire an externship in order to complete my degree,” he said with a strained tone.

  “Yes, I’m aware and we already have our three students from UPenn.” I stared at the young man. “They were also obtained three months ago.”

  He shifted in the chair and nodded.

  “So what brings you in here and more importantly, how did you get my email address?” I asked since I was curious to meet the student who had balls enough to email the owner directly.

  He shifted again, then his eyes leveled on me.

  “I came here because I’m desperate. I have a three point two-five GPA, it’s my last year and one day I want to sit in the owner’s chair. Despite my tardiness, I have the ability to work hard and a love for this work. I will have to wait until next year before I can take this course again. I have nowhere else to go.” He continued to meet my eyes.

  Stubborn.

  “The answer is no,” I said simply. “If you really wanted this job, you should have beat everyone else to it. That means you didn’t want it. You wanted to graduate more than the job, so you’ll deal with those consequences,” I answered him. “Thank you for coming.”

  My gaze turned to my laptop since he was effectively dismissed. When there was no movement, I lifted my head to see he remained seated.

  “You can go.” I urged.

  “You started playing in little league, was cut from your middle school team and moved on to become All Catholic in high school. You have a career high school record that has yet to be passed for points and rebounds. You played division one basketball, did not start your first two years but was counted on as the sixth man scoring more than starters. Your last two years, you started and broke records the University of Minnesota still hasn’t had a player who can come close. You played pro ball for four years, quit then started coaching at the college level and despite your unorthodox ways, your teams were successful. You didn’t take into account the political arena. You were blackballed from pro coaching and now you’re the goddamn owner of semi-pro team and your team will probably go to the chip, but fate will tell if they win. So, when you say no to me, it makes me wonder how many people have said no to you and you said fuck them.” The little shit stood up in one fluid motion.

  “So you visited Wikipedia? What’s your point? Are you saying fuck me?” I asked.

  “I hope not,” he remained standing. “I think things happen for a reason, so the fact I’m in your office could mean this is my greatest opportunity or my next fuck you.”

  Now this made me laugh. Out loud no less, which I can’t remember the last time that shit has happened.

  “Fuck, I should hire you for the comedy alone. Have a seat.” I waved toward him to sit down.

  “Who are you kid? How’d you get my email?” I asked again.

  The tension left him almost instantly, then he said, “My name is Morris McCoy and one of the receptionist gave me your email.”

  “My receptionist doesn’t give out my email,” I replied to the lie.

  His eyes lowered, when he said, “I might have name dropped and told them my sister was the coach for the Vikings and they might get fired if they didn’t give it to me.”

  Fucking shit!

  “Zora McCoy?” I know my eyes were wide with absolute shock.

  Not the woman I had been obsessing over for weeks now. The one who ran through my mind on autopilot. The one that had me coming like a teenager in my sleep and fucking with my head when I was awake.

  What were the damn odds?

 
“Yes, she mentioned she’d just met you and I should inquire,” He told me.

  Oh she did, did she?

  “What’s her number?” I asked, and he readily gave it to me.

  My fingers were calling right then and there.

  “Zora,” I picked up the receiver when she answered.

  “Yes,” her smooth husky voice replied.

  “Harvey here with your brother, Morris. Smart young man, he is.” I was smiling. “He was inquiring about an externship here and says that you gave him my name.”

  There was silence on the other line.

  “Zora?” I called because I knew she’d probably smack the shit out of me again if we were in the same room.

  I could give a good goddamn. That shit turned me on any fucking way.

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “Babe, we’re coming over to celebrate. Do you have food or do you want us to bring some?” I asked.

  “No you are absolutely not coming over here. Harvey, I am not playing and this is not funny.” Her voice was rising.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” I say louder. “Morris can show me the way.”

  “Harvey, I swear to God if you bring your tail over here, I will kick your ass.” She was outright yelling.

  I laughed and said, “Sweetheart, no worries. We’ll stop by that little place you like. Medium well for your steak, right?”

  Her words became garbled as she sent all sorts of threats about cutting my dick off and putting it in a grinder, so it could never be reattached.

  “Okay, Babe. We’ll go over his contract when I get there. You’ve been in this business for awhile, so you’ll also have a better idea about where his focus should be.” I smiled at Morris. “See you at five.”

  Then I replaced the receiver on the phone.

  “Was she yelling?” Morris asked with his brows pushed together.

  “Yeah, something about having no food.” I laughed. “Women.”

  He relaxed and said, “Oh, okay. Zor doesn’t usually get worked up about stuff like that. She’s a tomboy, always has been.”

  “Yeah, I thought it was weird too.” I stood up. “Let’s go get this food. Don’t want to keep her waiting.” I nabbed my laptop and said, “We’ll draw up your contract there.”

  “So you’re going to give me a chance?” he asked.

  “Yeah. This will be the greatest opportunity.”

  He smiled wide and so did I.

  We stopped by Bartolommeo’s, ordered our food to go from the exclusive restaurant, and he showed me the way to his sister’s house.

  Zora McCoy.

  What were the damn odds this would fall into my lap?

  When I arrived, I let the boy take the lead because she would cuss me out but probably not in front of him. She was private, and I knew that, but I was definitely going to take advantage. What man wouldn’t?

  We came up on a small community on the outskirts of Philly where the grass was green and there were actual white picket fences. Her house was on a small hill with a two-car garage, more parking outside of the car port, and a mini mansion that was too big for her but perfect, none the less.

  She was standing in the door, black pants on, a white blouse and those arms crossed with a look that could kill whoever came across those laser beams.

  It wasn’t until Morris jumped from my car, bags in hand with the brightest smile on his face that she melted into a tentative smile.

  “Thanks so much, Zor.” He dropped the bags and lifted her up in a bear hug. “You’re the best sister in the universe.”

  She laughed loudly for her brother to put her down but my eyes were on that smile. The fucking woman was nothing but beauty.

  Pure and simple.

  That wild curly mane was not tamed, and neither was she, just yet. I planned to change that.

  “Sweetheart,” I stepped toward her after her brother disappeared in her home. “So good to see you again.”

  “You are a piece of work!” she spat. “Do you think that you can just—”

  I did what I had in that bar closet, pulled her to me and kissed the hell out of her. And, just like she did before, the woman melted into me, because that’s where she belonged.

  Fucking hell.

  I reluctantly let her go and stepped around, so I was inside the door.

  “We have hot food, contracts and a lot to discuss,” I said as I moved farther into the house. “Love your place.”

  She huffed but eventually, I heard the soft click of a door closing. Morris already had our food laid out on the island that surrounded her stove and marble countertop grill. The kitchen was the shit. I wondered if her cooking was too.

  “Thanks.” I nodded to Morris. “Let’s eat.”

  Zora slowly walked over, grabbed whichever container was left and looked inside. At first, I thought she was going to decline but once she scanned everything, she hesitated then sat down behind the platter.

  “This is good,” Morris said with a full mouth. “Wow!”

  “Eat,” I urged Zora. “Don’t want the food to get cold.”

  She threw a glare at me but grabbed the fork and started to eat. There was some talk between the siblings and I chimed in a few times until we finished and it was contract talking time.

  “What area in sports management do you want to focus on?” I asked Morris once we settled in the main room.

  A large flat screen was mounted above the fire place, which had a black gate encased around the opening. That was the only wall in the house that was actually made of brick. This was a Baltimore trait, but it was her.

  Zora sat in the love seat across from me while Morris and I shared the long couch. My laptop was up with the contract and we would list his areas of focus.

  “I want to learn every aspect because that will help me as I climb the ranks. There won’t be any one thing I’m not familiar with or can see my way around,” he answered rather smartly.

  “Yes, that’s good, but you do not want to be a jack of all trades and master of none. You need to have a specialty. Meaning when someone calls your name they know you’re known for dot, dot, dot.” I waved my hand toward Zora. “For instance, in our league, Zora is known for her team’s stamina, tenacity and her guidance of players. Soon she’ll be known for winning championships and breaking down barriers from semi to pro. You must have a specialty. What is that?”

  Morris looked between his sister and I, then he said, “Closer. I am good at closing.”

  I nodded. “That, you are. So, you want to hone in on the salesmen, contracts, law and understand the ends and out of the business. You land good clients, keep them happy, out of trouble, you’ll be sought after and you’ll rise.” I turned to face Zora, whose face was a ball of confusion, so I focused on her brother. “But you don’t want to rise too quickly. Things and people that are quick to go up, also are likely to get quickly deflated. Those fuck you’s that happen in life, we were talking about earlier. Are probably the best teachers and also keeps you grounded.”

  Morris nodded his head as if he understood. “Makes sense,” he added. “So, what do you think Zor?”

  We turned to look at her but her eyes were still on me. “Uh?” she asked, as if she was snapping herself out of a daze. “Yeah, I agree with Harvey. I’m not sure what the ‘fuck you’s’ are about, but once you get your niche, you’ll be able to pave your own way.”

  “Okay, okay.” Morris clapped his hands together as I typed the final line on the contract. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yeah, we’ll go over your schedule on Monday, so we can figure out work hours. You should know I’m a stickler for time. It literally is money and I don’t accept tardiness. You’ll report directly to me, glean from me and no other extern will have this opportunity. You fuck it up, it won’t be you saying fuck me, it’ll be me saying, fuck you. We clear?” I tell him in front of his sister, so we all heard the same thing.

  Seriousness passed over Morris’ features and he nodded. “We’re clear. I
won’t let you down.”

  He looked at his sister and he said, “Or you.”

  She gave him a small smile. I saved the contract and turned it around so Morris could read and sign his signature using the touch screen. When he finished, I emailed it to him and my secretary.

  “The contract has been emailed to you and my secretary. Send me your schedule and we’ll go from there.” I stood and shook Morris’ hand. “Welcome aboard the Warriors.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Black. I really appreciate you taking a chance on me.” He held my hand and then let me go, to give his sister a hug. She remained in the seat. “I have to go, my friend is waiting for me outside but thanks so much. Seriously, sis.”

  “I didn’t do anything but okay.” She smiled. “You be safe and I’ll see you later.”

  Morris left with his phone in his hand, almost running out the door, leaving me with his sister.

  My obsession.

  “Well, I’m not sure what to say.” Zora stood up, attempting to get me on my way, I was sure. “Uh, thanks for helping out my brother.”

  She made two steps toward the door but my voice caused her to pause.

  “Stop,” I commanded but followed her. “Sit down.”

  “Mr. Black, I’m not sure what you think is about to happen but I can assure you if you think for one fucking second, you’re going to blackmail me for helping my brother, I not only—”

  “Zora,” I whispered as I stood behind her. “Why do you keep fighting this?”

  She sighed and her shoulders visibly rose and fell with the action. I touched one of her shoulders and the other one rose with tension. I put my other hand on that one and slowly turned her around, so she was facing me.

  “Explain to me why?” I said in a low voice. “I just want to know why?”

  “I just can’t, okay.” Her breath left her with a sharp release.

  “You can’t, or you won’t?” I asked, moving a hand down her arm.

  “Both, okay.” She was getting agitated. “Come on Harvey. There are many women out there that would love for you to run them down. Okay. I’m not her. I’m not interested. I’ll never be.”