“Maybe he’s just not the sharing type,” I thought to myself as I clicked the tab to see what pictures he had been tagged in by other people. And while the first few were all pictures he had taken with fans, I gasped out loud when I recognized one set of fans in particular
“Oh my God,” I whispered when I enlarged the picture to confirm it was actually him in bed asleep with the two women who were hassling him after the fight.
Clearly it wasn’t as much of a hassle as I thought since they had gotten what they were after.
The caption read, “This man goes so many rounds, it took two of us to put him down...” making me gag and intriguing me all at once since it pretty much confirmed what I had thought from the beginning after watching him train. But having my suspicions confirmed was as far as things were going to go since the picture had also given me reason to stay in my lane when it came to Princeton Lattimore no matter how charming he was.
Besides, I had my own fish to catch.
As if I had thought him up, my phone buzzed with a text from the guppy himself.
“You up?” - Chris
“Seriously?” I groaned as I typed out a response that didn’t show how annoyed I felt. But I was definitely annoyed by him hitting me with the generic booty call text.
“Gotta start somewhere, Bella,” I thought to myself as I pressed send.
“I am. You comin’ by?” - Bella
I was already grabbing my things to hop in the shower when my phone buzzed on the bathroom counter with a reply.
“Depends on what you got for me…” - Chris
Hmm…
Since sending him a nude was off the table until he made it clear he was serious about us, I did the next best thing, snapping a picture of the lingerie I planned on putting on after the shower and sending it to him with the message, “You like?”
“Damn, girl. Send me your address.” - Chris
I gnawed on my lip, biting back my grin as I typed out my address along with the door code to get into my building. And after seeing that the message had been read, I finally hopped in the shower, scrubbing away any leftover smells from being in Princeton’s gym all afternoon and giving myself a quick touch-up with the razor. But I was only a foot out of the shower when there was a knock on the door, startling me since I hadn’t expected him to arrive so quickly.
Not that I was complaining. In fact, for whatever reason, I felt especially sexy answering the door in my towel with beads of water on my shoulders and my hair still a little ruffled from the steam of the shower. And I could tell Chris appreciated the sight as well the second I opened the door, ogling me as I invited him in with a nod.
I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he slipped past me, his eyes moving from me to my place as he said, “This is nice, Bella. We’re clearly taking good care of you up at Fullest Disclosure.”
“Could be better if you’d knock Sharon off her high horse and take her spot so I can take yours,” I joked as Chris made himself comfortable on the couch.
He only offered me a half-hearted smile when he replied, “Ahh. I guess I better watch my back then, huh?”
“Always,” I answered with a wink before telling him, “There’s some liquor in the cabinet. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Nah, Bella. I want you just like that,” he replied, giving my towel a tug as I bit my lip and clenched it tighter against my chest teasingly. But that only made him tug again, this time pulling me with it onto his lap.
His lips against my bare shoulder made me groan as he slipped his hand under my towel in search of what he had come over here for. And since I was already warmed up from the wine I had consumed earlier, I didn’t mind, trying my best to go with the flow until his groping became… awkward. Or maybe I was just thinking too hard.
I mean, things hadn’t been anywhere near off that night in his office so it didn’t make sense for things to be off now. But before I could put my finger on what didn’t feel right, he slipped from under me, leaving me on the couch and putting himself on the floor as he groaned, “Let me taste you, Bella.”
Of course I nodded since… why the hell not?
But when he buried himself between my thighs, I was grateful that he was also under the towel so that he couldn’t see me giggling at his attempt to satisfy me.
Just like his touch had been awkward, the strokes of his tongue were sloppy. And not in a good way, but in more of a, “I can’t wait for this to be over” kind of way. He even had the nerve to ask, “You like that, huh?” as if I had given him any reason to be cocky with it.
While I wanted to laugh, I gave him a moaning, “Mmhm” thinking he just needed a little encouragement to figure it out. But my encouragement only had the rhythm of his tongue even more offbeat, making me wonder why I was still wasting my time.
“Gina might’ve been right after all,” I thought to myself as Chris began to grunt against me, his breathing becoming ragged until he finally rested his head against my thigh. And it took me a moment to figure out what was going on until I replayed the pattern of his moves in my head.
Wait… did he just…
His face was mostly covered with his own spit when he crawled from under the towel and said, “Damn. I guess you tasted too good.”
“I… guess I did. Wow. Uh… the bathroom is down the hall if you want to clean up,” I told him, glancing at the wet spot on his pants that gave proof to what had just happened. Something I honestly didn’t even know was possible, especially since he hadn’t even given me enough to do the same.
It seemed as if the liquor he had consumed before he came was finally wearing off, the embarrassment settling in as he swiped his face clean with the back of his hand and said, “I think I’m just gonna head home.”
And now I was experiencing secondhand embarrassment in the worst way when I pushed out, “Oh. Okay. Well… thanks for coming by. I’ll uh… see you on Monday?”
Monday honestly seemed too soon to face him, especially since this experience was probably the only thing I’d be able to think about when I saw him again. But I suppose I didn’t have much of a choice, and it was clear he knew the same to be true when he replied, “Yeah. See you then.”
&
“Bella, I know you’re playin’. You gotta be playin’. I don’t believe you.”
I was sitting on the edge of my desk, my feet dangling as I shook my head at Gina who was hanging over the wall of my cubicle with a grin of disbelief. While I planned on keeping the incident with Chris to myself, I couldn’t help blurting it out the second Gina asked about my weekend. But even with all the details, she was still too blown away to accept it as the truth, forcing me to defend, “I swear I’m not lying, Gina. I mean, I could see a little pre-cum maybe, especially if we’re both really, really into it. But a whole ass nut from a subpar performance that had me laughing at his ass? I mean, I didn’t even touch his dick. He didn’t even touch it.”
“Over-Rated,” Gina chanted, even adding the claps which had us both cracking up laughing just as Sharon approached. And while I usually wasn’t the most thrilled about seeing her, this particular morning I didn’t mind since I had the news of my exclusive interview with Princeton to share with her.
Before I could acknowledge her, she acknowledged me when she demanded, “Bella, I need to see you in my office. Now.” already taking off in that direction before I even got a chance to respond. And while my first move was to look at Gina as if to ask what this was about, Gina only shrugged, forcing me to find out on my own.
I followed her down the hall and into her office, shutting the door behind me as I asked, “What’s up, Sharon? I actually wanted to talk to you about this...”
But I didn’t even get to finish my spiel when she interrupted to say, “Bella, I need you to go and pack up your belongings. Security will see you out when you’re done.”
“Excuse me, what?” I asked, peeking up to find her eyes along with another set behind her, my blood already beginning to boil when he
decided to avoid looking at me.
“Chris and I were reviewing your file, and we’ve decided to let you go,” Sharon stated with a smirk, almost arrogantly as if this was her greatest move to date.
Still, it didn’t make enough sense for me not to question, “What? Why? Did I do something wrong?”
Sharon glanced at her fingernails like the conversation was already boring her when she replied, “Long story short, your overall performance here just isn’t meeting our expectations.”
“Oh, hell no,” I thought to myself, knowing good and well this had nothing to do with my performance. And Chris knew it too, which was exactly why he was avoiding looking at me. But if he thought for a second he was only going to be embarrassed back at my place, he had another thing coming as I shouted, “That’s impossible! Three of the five most-viewed articles this year have come from my desk and now I’m not meeting expectations? You need to ask your little sidekick about not meeting expectations!”
Chris had the nerve to shoot fire my way with his eyes as if this wasn’t all his fault while Sharon shouted, “Bella, that’s enough! You have thirty minutes. And make sure you leave your badge on the desk.”
Instead of doing like she asked, I pulled it off right there and tossed it on hers before storming out of her office back to the desk I had called home for the past year. And I was already busy packing up the little bit of belongings I kept at work when Gina finally noticed what was happening, quickly crossing the space between our cubicles to ask, “Bella? Bella, what’s the matter? What happened?”
“They’re letting me go,” I answered shortly, unable to explain anymore since I was technically on the clock.
Still, that didn’t stop Gina from reacting as she shouted, “What! You’re shittin’ me!” Lowering her voice to inquire, “I know it better not have anything to do with…”
I stopped packing my things just long enough to give her the explanation that was given to me. “Sharon said my performance isn’t meeting their expectations.”
“That’s bullshit! You’ve been killin’ it, especially with that article you did on “The Prince”.”
Since I knew the same, I could only roll my eyes, stuffing a few files into my purse and stacking the others to carry as I replied, “Well apparently that along with everything else I’ve done here just wasn’t enough anymore.”
While I could tell Gina was just as upset about the news as I was, she still managed to offer me sympathy, putting a hand to my shoulder when she said, “Bella, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you’ll find new work in no time though.”
Even if I wasn’t sure how true it was, I still nodded to agree, tossing my purse over my shoulder and biting back the tears I refused to give Sharon and Chris the satisfaction of seeing as I pushed out, “I guess we’ll see soon, huh?”
She’ll pulled me into a hug that threatened to crack my tough facade before stepping away to give me another regretful look. And I tried to force a smile as I told her, “Don’t worry about me, Gina. Seriously. I’ll be fine. You keep up the good work around here. Hold it down for us.”
Her nod of a response caused a tear to slip from her eyes and I knew I had to get out of there before I did the same. And by the time the security guard I was beyond familiar with escorted me to the car, I was barely holding on, sucking in my bottom lip as I gave him a nod goodbye. But once I was alone, in the confines of my car, I let it all out, the mix of anger and sadness pouring from my body in the form of hot tears and snot strings as the reality of the situation hit me.
I was an unemployed journalist all because I had gotten involved with a superior who was far from superior when it came to his head game.
“Maybe I need to write about my damn self,” I thought with a messy laugh as I cleaned my face up so that I could pull out of the parking lot without looking crazy. But once I was out on the street, I realized I didn’t really have anywhere to go besides home, though I had a feeling that would only make things worse since I’d more than likely end up sulking on the couch.
So I kept driving, taking in the city as if it was unfamiliar territory and observing the daytime crowd I didn’t get to see on a regular basis since I was usually either holed up in the office or out on assignment. Just the thought had me thinking back to my last unofficial assignment, the interview with Princeton that would only remain a document on my computer since I no longer had a place to publish it. And that only made me feel worse since he had opened up so much about things I hadn’t read him disclose with anyone else, as if he was trusting me to be the first to share it.
While a text explanation seemed a little impersonal for the circumstances, I figured a phone call could probably suffice. But when I looked up and realized I wasn’t too far from his gym, I decided I would just stop by and tell him in person.
Princeton
My body was still aching from last week’s work, but that didn’t mean the show got to stop as I laid out on the ground after finishing my latest set of one hundred crunches, Tony standing over me with the stopwatch in his hand as he kept the time for my break that was only supposed to be a minute long. But I was grateful when that minute got extended with Tony asking, “Yo, P. You expecting somebody today?”
“Nah, why?” I asked, sitting up so that I could see who was coming in. And it felt like I caught a second wind once I realized who it was, looking as good as I remembered though I instantly became curious as to what had prompted her visit.
Tony helped me up from the ground just as she was approaching us. And while she was wearing a smile, I could see a hint of something else etched under her eyes when she said, “Hey Princeton. Is this a bad time?”
I dusted off my hands, watching Tony excuse himself as I answered, “Nah, you’re good. What’s going on, B? You coming to play Iyanla Fix My Life again? Or you on your Oprah interview shit today?”
It was only a joke intended to get her to smile a little harder. But she didn’t, her face turning into more of a frown when she replied, “Actually, I just wanted to stop by to tell you thanks again for letting me interview you. I honestly think it might’ve been my best work yet even though it’ll never see the light of day.”
Now I was the one frowning. “Wait, what? Why not?”
Truth be told, I was looking forward to reading the interview, excited to see how she pieced it all together. But instead of answering, she turned away from me, biting her lip before turning back with glossy eyes to explain, “I uh… I got fired today, Princeton.”
There was a tremble to her voice and I had a feeling the gloss was going to turn into real tears at any minute. But before they could come out, I tried to stop them by telling her, “Nah, Bella. Ain’t none of that cryin’ in here. You gotta box that shit out or somethin’.”
She sniffled out a laugh as she asked, “You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all,” I replied, grabbing the roll of wrapping tape nearby as I told her, “Here. Let me get you wrapped up.”
“Princeton, I can’t. I mean, I’m not exactly dressed for all that,” she said, reminding me of the fly ass dress she had on. It was bright as hell, free and flowy like a summer day, and I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra with it even though her breasts still looked perfectly perky.
But the dress was also loose and flexible enough for me to tell her, “Just take off your sandals and you’ll be aight. Now give me your hand.”
While she didn’t look completely sold on the idea, she still stuck her hand out to me, allowing me to get them wrapped and get the most obvious question answered. “So why’d you get fired?”
She released a heavy sigh, keeping her eyes on my handiwork as she replied, “Well… according to my boss, I wasn’t meeting expectations.”
“Which I know is bullshit cause everything I’ve read of yours is golden,” I assured her, securing the first wrap and waiting for her to give me the other hand.
But when she didn’t right away, I peeked up to find out why and found her face pulled into a su
rprised expression. An expression I didn’t understand until she asked, “You’ve read my stuff?”
I shrugged, snatching her hand as I told her, “Every article I could find. Along with every Facebook status, every tweet, every love letter…”
“Oh, stop it!” she said with a laugh, smacking me against the shoulder with the hand that was already wrapped as I secured the wrap on the other.
“How’s that? Comfy?” I asked, watching her nod before going to grab a set of gloves for her to use.
When I returned, I found her wearing the cutest smirk. And I suppose my ogling was enough to get her to say what she was thinking out loud. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
The whole point was to see her smile, hear her laugh, help her realize things would be alright even if it didn’t feel like it in the moment. And now that that mission seemed to be on the right track, I felt confident telling her, “You’ll feel better afterwards. Trust me. Now put your hand in.”
She shoved her hand into the glove, waiting for me to secure it before slipping the other on to do the same. Then I helped her into the ring as she continued to explore her gloves, lifting them in the air, tossing them around, and throwing air punches that made it clear she had never worn any before. In fact, I couldn’t help but laugh at her as she explained, “They just look so much heavier than they feel.”
“The ones I fight with are a little bigger, but these look good on you,” I told her, watching her nod in understanding before I instructed, “Now give me your best shot.”
Since I knew this exercise would only be effective if Bella could really blow some steam off by throwing actual jabs, I had no problem offering my body as a sacrifice. But that didn’t mean she would take advantage of the opportunity, her face scrunching as she asked, “What? No way. I can’t. I mean, I don’t wanna hurt you.”
The laugh I let out in response didn’t exactly please her, her face turning into more of a pout when I explained, “Bella, no offense. But there’s not a single punch you can throw that’ll hurt me.”
In His Corner Page 4