by Vera Roberts
Dean shot Rebecca a glance that caused her to purse her lips and turn away. He regretted even entertaining Rebecca again. “I gave her a sit down interview a few weeks ago.”
“It was a nice one!” She butted in. “You should’ve been there, Syd. He was shirtless and out in the sun, wearing nothing but his finest skivvies.”
“Oh,” Sydney kept her composure. “That’s nice.”
“Isn’t it?” Rebecca eyed Sydney, studying her reaction, and relishing in the fact she didn’t know about her meeting with Dean. “Why weren’t you there? I thought you would be!”
“I was busy,” Sydney turned to Dean, who had remorseful eyes, “doing something to secure our future.”
“Oh, that’s lovely.” Rebecca mentioned. “Say, Syd, do you mind if I get an exclusive interview with you? It will really help my show a lot!”
“Are you kidding?” Sydney asked. “After you tried to ruin me and now you want me to help you?”
“Is there a problem?” Sarah and Jameson joined everyone. She recognized Rebecca and smiled. “Well, well, well…how do you do, Rebecca?”
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes.
“Hey, no hard feelings, okay? I mean that’s what I love about you. You don’t care what people think of you and you certainly have no feelings towards anyone else. You can go on-screen, in millions of homes, and not care that you’re wearing clothing that shows how heavy you are around the middle. Most women would be horrified that they’re carrying an extra ten pounds but you show your pudge off like that boxing champ. What was his name? Butterball! And I love you don’t mind that you’re not as smart as your castmates, who keep tricking you by not using big words but regular words anyone can find in the dictionary.” Sarah beamed. “You have some self-confidence I would love to have! I mean, for a woman to be pushing thirty and realizing that her competition is mainly twenty-year-olds who are thinner, smarter, and could probably do a lot more in the bedroom than she ever could to get jobs she’ll never get…you’re amazing!”
Rebecca’s tears threatened to ruin her makeup job and she ran off before anyone could see her. Sarah turned to everyone and smiled. “What did I say?”
****
“A sit down interview?” Sydney asked Dean. “What the hell was that about?”
After celebrating with family and a few close friends in their home, the couple retreated upstairs to their bedroom. Though Sydney was royally pissed at Dean, she played the part of supportive fiancée in front of everyone. Dean didn’t know if he should be impressed at how well she acted or scared for what was waiting for him.
“Rebecca showed up on set when I did the underwear shoot and I told her she could have an exclusive.” Dean justified. “It was all professional.”
“How did she know about the shoot, Dean?” Sydney asked. “Did you tell her beforehand?”
Dean let out a small sigh and sat down on the bed. She fisted the sheets as he braced Sydney’s reaction. “I saw her before. She saw me at the Five Star and we met up with Kyle and his new girlfriend. They want us to go on a double-date and…”
Sydney remembered the picture Sarah sent to her. She waited on Dean to finally tell her about the circumstances before she confronted him, to see if he would be honest or lie about it all. “I don’t give a damn about that,” she interrupted, “how long has this been going on?”
“How long what’s being going on?” He asked. “You don’t honestly think I’m seeing Rebecca, do you?”
“Actually, yes,” Sydney folded her arms, “she shows up at the bar you’re at and now she shows up at your game with a fucking camera crew? What am I supposed to think?”
“Nothing is going on between me and Rebecca, Syd. I promise you that.” He pleaded. The anger in Sydney’s eyes told him she didn’t believe a single word of his shit. “I was telling Rebecca about the shoot and she showed up. I gave her an interview but all I talked about was you.”
“And I’m sure that part won’t air,” she sneered.
“It won’t air anyway because I didn’t sign the release. She missed that part and I didn’t bother to correct her.” Dean looked up and saw how heated Sydney still was. “Look, I’m sorry, Syd. That was a stupid decision on my part. Nothing happened and nothing will happen. Rebecca is my past.” He got up and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her. “I only want a future with you and only you.”
“I guess,” she looked away.
“Hey, you’re the only one I want.” He turned her chin to face him. “We’re getting married in a few months. I want to see you walk down that aisle as I declare my love to you in front of our friends and family.”
Sydney softly bit her bottom lip. “Speaking of which, we need to postpone the wedding.”
“What? Over this?” Dean pleaded. “Come on, Syd, I know what I did was stupid but not that serious!”
“No, it’s because of my show,” she clarified, “the show opens in October and I won’t be able to concentrate on that and wedding plans, so I need to push back the wedding until next year.”
Dean wanted to ask if Ian had anything to do with Sydney’s idea but decided not to chance it. “Okay.”
“Or…” her eyes twinkled. “…we can just go to Vegas and elope? Then we can have a huge wedding next year!”
Dean felt his stomach twisting in knots. Maybe he wasn’t ready to marry Sydney after all. He knew a big part of his hesitation was the prenup but he honestly wondered if that was truly the reason. “We can wait until next year, baby girl.” He picked up Sydney and carried her to the bathroom. “I think we need to celebrate our victory tonight.”
“You still have energy?” She asked.
“Yep.” Dean set her down as they both peeled off their clothing. “So let’s hurry up and do it before I can’t walk tomorrow.”
They walked into his large, open shower and turned on the showerhead. They let the warm water rain over them before washing each other down with the soapy loofah.
“Remember that Love & Hip Hop porno we saw the other night?” Dean huskily asked. “Let’s recreate.”
“You really want me hanging from the shower rod?” Sydney asked.
“Yeah,” Dean smiled, “why not?”
“For starters, we don’t have a shower rod,” Sydney looked around, “and two, our mothers are here!” Sydney reminded.
“Well, I guess you have to be quiet.”
“Me?” A smirk grew on her face. “You’re the one sounding like Maria Curry.”
“It’s Mariah Carey and no, I don’t sound like her.” Dean reminded.
“What? You don’t?” Sydney began to mimic her fiancée in a high-pitched voice. “Oh Sydney! Sydney! Oh, oh, oh!”
Dean laughed. “Okay, whatever. Now you, however, sound like you’re going through an exorcism.”
“I do not!” Sydney laughed.
“Yeah, you do,” Dean joined in. “You start all soft and quiet, then you get a little louder, and you start cursing at me. Oh fuck me! Beat it up! Give it to me, Daddy!”
“What can I say?” Sydney shyly smiled. “You bring out the best in me.”
“And I hope I keep bringing out the best in you.” He crushed his lips against hers. “Again. And again. And again.” He picked her up and carried her to the nearby bench. He sat down and adjusted his position so Sydney sat down on his shaft. Their eyes flew open as they took a brief moment to relish the moment. Love, passion, and intensity coursed through their bodies as they were joined as one.
Sydney set the pace, tortuously slow, as she guided herself up and down, feeling every inch of him – the ridges, the smoothness, the soft curve. Her small breasts softly brushed against his chest with each movement as Dean guided her. They stole kisses in between moans and grunts, silently pledging undying love to each other in their shared home.
Sydney began to ride him faster and harder, straining to keep her moans to a minimum while trying to remain some control. Their bodies slapped against each other, hot and slick
, and echoed off the shower walls. Sydney’s heart pounded so fast she heard the sound in her ears. She no longer wanted to wait; she needed the release. “Fuck me,” she panted, “now.”
Dean’s eyes went dark and ravenous as he picked up Sydney and carried her to the nearby wall. She wrapped both legs around his waist and he powered hard into her. The climax crept upon her like a thief in the night. Her breath quickened, she gripped Dean tighter, before she finally exploded with him joining her a short time later.
As they came down from their highs, they locked lips again. “That’s the only way I would like to celebrate a victory.”
Sydney smiled, hoping the sadness in her eyes wasn’t present. Despite the engagement, it was clear Dean wasn’t ready to marry her. She wondered if the wedding postponement was a blessing in disguise, after all.
The picture he took with Rebecca told her everything she needed to know.
Eleven
The drawing was simple.
It was a dark-skinned woman with fluffy hair. She was topless and wearing only white capris. One arm was crossed over her chest, but just enough to cover the areola. The woman looked off to the distance with an assured smirk on her face.
The picture title was simple and straight to the point - “Bad Motherfucker. God Complex.”
Sydney sat back on her chair and smiled. It was perfect. It took a lot of time and she second-guessed what she was doing at times, but with some inspiration from King Bey, she found what she was looking for.
She was going to debut the painting at that night’s preview.
It’d been a whirlwind summer for her and Dean, as they went on vacation to Italy and celebrated his Stanley Cup victory. It gave them time to refresh and decompress without the pressure of the playoffs or any potential records he was breaking.
It was just them, the universe at their fingertips, and nature.
Sydney returned home more excited and refreshed than ever, ready to tackle on her fears and silence her critics once and for all. She wanted to prove she was more than just Dean’s fiancée, and she had a life of her own.
She needed to worry about her preview first. The Gallery had promoted her to all over town with press releases and various promotion items. Several A-listers RSVP’d and a well-known international DJ, Sugah Bear, was going to spin tunes. Her official opening date was set for October 10th and the preview was scheduled six weeks in advance so word could travel. It also gave the Gallery plenty of time to properly promote Sydney.
Nothing could ruin her night.
“You look so absolutely sexy when you’re focused,” Dean sat behind Sydney and kissed her shoulder. He looked over at her drawing and was quite impressed. “Lemonade, huh?”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Sydney giggled, “I’m going to debut her tonight.”
“Sounds amazing,” he nuzzled against her neck and softly kissed it, “you have time for a quickie before you leave?”
“I wish I could, babe. I need to meet Ian at the Gallery in about an hour.” Sydney glanced up at the clock on the wall. “He hired someone to style me for tonight.”
“Oh?” Dean inquired. “That was generous of him.”
“It was. Personally I think it’s a waste of money,” Sydney shrugged, “but I guess he wanted me to look a certain way. Many big names are going to be there tonight so it’s a huge deal. But after the preview, though, we can go through every room of this home.” She turned around and winked at her fiancée. “There are a couple of new positions I wanted to try.”
“Looking forward to them,” Dean got up and went into his walk-in closet, “just out of curiosity, you don’t have a thing for Ian, do you?”
Sydney put the finishing touches on her drawing and softly blew on it to remove excess. “What do you mean? Like a crush?”
“It’s okay if you have one,” Dean mentioned, “I just want to see if nothing goes beyond that.”
Sydney remained silent as she processed the information. Did her fiancée accuse her of having an affair? “What are you saying, Dean?”
He walked back inside the bedroom. “Okay, I’ll make it very clear: are you sleeping with Ian?”
“What?” Sydney turned around in a whiplash fashion. “You can’t be serious?”
“Chris told me how close you two were while I was playing during the Finals,” Dean mentioned, “so I figured I would just ask before pretending to be a fool about it.”
“You honestly think I’m sleeping with Ian?” Sydney didn’t know if she should laugh or be angry. “And you have your family spy on me? Wow, that’s rich.”
“Like, you don’t have my teammates report back to their wives and girlfriends about my behavior,” he shrugged.
“I don’t,” Sydney stated. “Wow, I can’t believe you actually accused me of sleeping with Ian given your history.”
“My history?” Dean sat down on the bed next to her. “What history is that?”
“Okay,” Sydney pulled up the infamous photo of Dean and Rebecca on her cell phone. She tossed the phone to Dean. “That one.”
Dean remembered the photo. A fan recognized them and wanted a photo with them. Kylie then asked the fan if he could take a photo of all of them together. It was that time Rebecca made a silly joke to Dean.
“What do you call an unpredictable, out of control photographer?”
“What?”
“A loose Canon.”
The memory faded into the background. “She told me a stupid joke at the time they took the photograph and that’s why I smiled down at her,” Dean defended, “it wasn’t like I was looking at her all googly-eyed.”
“Oh, it appears that way to me,” Sydney replied.
It was an argument Dean was steadily losing and it just began. “Sydney, if I wanted to cheat on you with Rebecca, you would never know about it.” It was after the words escaped Dean’s lips he’d realized his mistake. “Shit, that’s not what I mean.”
“Oh, I think that’s exactly what you mean. You’re here accusing me of sleeping with my mentor when you’re pulling shit like this?” Sydney grabbed her purse and keys. “Stay home tonight. I do not want you there.”
****
“I want the flowers sporadic. I don’t want this to look like a funeral or a wedding. I want it to look like a celebration. Lots of color and dramatic displays,” Ian instructed the Madre’s employees as they walked through the Lula Jean room. “The flowers should be funky, they should scream rock ‘n roll, they should scream hip-hop. They need to scream feminist movement and not barefoot and pregnant. Now go.” The employees hustled amongst each other. When the space cleared, Dean saw Sydney standing in the shadows.
“My Sydney Rose…” He quickly walked over to her and kissed both cheeks. “Where’s Dean? I thought he would be here with you.”
“I don’t care where he is,” she replied with anger seething through her words, “I really, truly don’t.”
Ian leaned against a counter and stared at his muse. She looked particularly ravishing when she was pissed off and he loved seeing that fire inside of her. “Trouble in paradise?” Sydney’s eyes sharply glanced towards Ian and he met her challenge. “You can run from him but you have to deal with me. And if you’re going to be in a foul mood tonight, I need to know this so I can get you in a better one. Come with me.”
Ian led Sydney to a private patio at the Gallery. It overlooked the Los Angeles skyline. Sydney could point out downtown L.A., Santa Monica Pier, and possibly Marina del Rey. The patio had freshly-cut grass, a couple of tables with umbrellas and seats, and small area for the bartender or DJ.
They walked over to a bench that faced the city. It was silent between them for a long moment before she spoke. “We had a huge fight,” Sydney stared out into the distance, “I think he cheated on me with his ex-girlfriend. He denied it, but I don’t know. There’s a picture of them together, looking all cozy like a couple.”
“Do you have that picture?” Ian asked and Sydney pulled it up on her phone.
He stared at the picture for a brief moment and nodded. “Her name?”
“Rebecca MacDonald,” Sydney huffed, “you know, when Beyoncé once spoke of Becky with the good hair, she was speaking of thirsty-ass bitches filled with mediocrity like Rebecca.”
Ian stifled a laugh. “What do you want from him, Sydney?”
“I don’t even know anymore,” she stared down at her engagement ring. A cushion-cut center sounded by numerous smaller diamonds stared back at her. Sydney briefly wondered how many other bitches of Dean’s received the same Cracker Jack prize. “I told him I wanted to postpone the wedding and maybe, we could just elope and have a big celebration next year. And you know what he said? He wanted us to wait to have the wedding. I guess what made me different was I wasn’t the type that wanted his attention all of the time. I didn’t squeal over every little thing. I was happy being at home and being boring. I guess that wasn’t good enough for him.”
Ian sat next to her on the bench and stared into the Los Angeles skyline. Athletes weren’t known to be faithful but even Ian had a hard time believing Dean would be that careless. Still, taking a picture with an ex-girlfriend while he’s engaged to another was a surely stupid gesture. “You deserve the right kind of love, Sydney. The kind of love that makes you feel needed and wanted. The kind of love you read about in novels and see on TV. You need someone who supports your passion and understands your sacrifices. You need to fall in love with someone and realize why it never worked out with the others.” He caressed her hair. He could faintly smell the coconut-infused curls. “But I need you to focus on your preview tonight. I’ll handle everything else. I’ll make sure there’s a blank canvas for you to draw so everyone can see your work and know you’re the real deal.” He stood up and buttoned his blazer. “I’ll let you be but I need you to be ready.” He began to leave.
Sydney turned around. “Ian?”
He turned back. “Yes?”
“Thank you,” she mouthed.
Dean smiled. “Eres mi todo,” he replied. You are my everything.
Sydney chuckled. “I don’t understand Spanish.”