Table of Contents
From UNTITLED:
Chapter 1: Talk That Talk
Chapter 2: Walking on Thin Ice
Chapter 3: Beast of Burden
Chapter 4: Changes
Chapter 5: The Hurt
Chapter 6: Broken Hearted Girl
Chapter 7: In the Meanwhile
Chapter 8: Through the Motions
Chapter 9: Picking up the Pieces
Chapter 10: All The Way Home
Chapter 11: Poker Face
Chapter 12: Back & Forth
Chapter 13: Anytime You Need a Friend
Chapter 14: Here I Am
Chapter 15: The Closer I Get To You
Chapter 16: Confessions
Chapter 17: Understanding
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Contact information
Copyright © 2016 by Jackie Chanel
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From UNTITLED:
Roxy, Delilah, Sunny, Erica, and Paulie were already having breakfast when Ramey and I walked into the restaurant and slipped into the two empty seats at their table.
“Hey guys,” I said when I sat down. “How was everyone’s night?”
“Me and Erica won five hundred bucks on the slots at Caesar’s,” Delilah answered happily. “Today, we’re going to get tattoos.”
Roxy nodded. “I had to convince Dumb and Dumber to sleep on that idea. They were way too drunk after the party to even think about getting tattoos.”
Both Erica and Delilah laughed like they were still a bit tipsy.
“Sunny, I thought you were leaving first thing this morning. What happened?” I asked.
“I have to stay a couple more days,” she answered. “Vibe is doing a photo shoot and I’m doing wardrobe. I called you after the party when I got the word, but you didn’t answer.”
“He was busy,” Ramey answered possessively.
“Really?” Delilah said. “Did you win big at the blackjack table?”
Before I could answer, Ramey answered for me.
“That wasn’t it,” she said.
“What were you doing?” Delilah asked.
Everyone at the table looked at me anxiously. Ramey sat her hand on the table so her ring was clearly visible. My hands were under the table. Erica was the first to notice. She let out a very loud gasp.
“No...you...didn’t!”
“Yes, we did,” Ramey said proudly. “We got married last night.”
A chorus of “Oh my God!” and “Are you crazy?” followed by “Have you lost your damn mind?” rang out like the backup singers at my shows.
“Were you drunk?” Paulie asked.
“Not that drunk,” I said. “I knew what I was doing.”
“Geez, Aiden,” Delilah moaned. “Why’d you do that? We were so close to being done with her. Her apartment is finished and everything. Now she’s never gonna leave.”
“I cannot believe this.” Roxy lowered her face into her hands. “This is a disaster. Tracy is going to kill you. She’s literally going to murder you.”
This is exactly the reaction that I was expecting. I knew that Ramey and I would be the only ones happy about our marriage. Judging by the anguished expression on her face, Ramey hadn’t expected the backlash. She never does.
“What is the problem?” she screeched. “What is so wrong with us getting married? I love him and he loves me.”
“Ha,” Sunny snorted. “He doesn’t love you.”
“No, honey,” Ramey snapped. “He doesn’t love you. That’s why you’re pissed.”
The entire table went silent. If I had one wish at that very moment, it would have been for a nice sized piece of duct tape to cover Ramey’s mouth.
“Everyone knows that you’ve been pining for Aiden since the day you met,” Ramey continued. “But he chose me. He loves me. You are barely a part of his life now. Deal with it.”
We all braced ourselves for Sunny’s response. Whatever she says isn’t going to be nice, but Ramey deserves it. Her relationship with Sunny is volatile at best. Only an idiot would bring up Sunny’s feelings for me, feelings that she doesn’t even have anymore.
“First of all,” Sunny said through clenched teeth. To say her voice seethed with venom would be an understatement.
“Don’t get your little situation with Aiden twisted, sweetheart. You call it love; the rest of us call it a fucking photo-op. He didn’t marry you because he loves you, believe me. He married you because he was drunker than he’s admitting and it’s going to do wonders for his career. Believe me, honey, Aiden doesn’t do shit out of love. Everything he does is only for his career.”
Ramey’s face tightened so much that she looked like she was in pain.
“Sunny-”
“Shut up, Aiden,” Sunny snapped. “I’m not talking to you.”
Ramey glared at Sunny. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. He wouldn’t have married me if he didn’t love me. You’re just mad because you don’t know Aiden as well as you think you do.”
Sunny smirked. “That’s where you’re wrong, Ramey. I know Aiden better than anyone at this table. You might think you hit the jackpot because you snagged Aiden Tyler but you will never be the woman that he loves. You will never be first in his life. The best you can do is fourth or fifth. Aiden doesn’t love you because he can’t love you.”
Ramey’s ice blue eyes darkened. “And why is that?”
Everyone was looking at Sunny but Sunny’s furious hazel eyes were only focused on me. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and looked away from the hurt that was shooting out of Sunny’s eyes.
She chuckled and looked back at Ramey. “Because Aiden always has and always will be in love with me. You’re just his poor choice for a backup plan. It will do you good to remember that.”
Sunny pushed her chair away from the table and walked out of the dining room. The entire table burst out laughing.
“Looks like she just set your ass straight, honey,” Erica jeered.
“Oh my God,” Delilah laughed. “I can’t believe she called you his backup plan!”
“Shut up,” I told my little sister. Against my better judgment, I got up from the table and went after Sunny.
“Sunny!” I yelled. Thankfully, she stopped walking.
“What? I have work to do,” she snapped.
“You’re engaged,” I said and instantly regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.
“What does that have to do with you? Don’t tell me you married her because I’m engaged.”
&n
bsp; “No. But you’re happy. You’re over me. You said so yourself. Why can’t you be happy for me?”
“I never said I was still I in love with you, Aiden. But don’t play with me. We both know who’s in love with whom.”
“What are you saying?”
She sighed. “I’ll let you figure that out.”
“Whatever, Sunny. Just be happy for me. Is that so hard for you?”
“If you say so.” Sunny slipped her sunglasses on. Even through the dark shades, her eyes still questioned my decision. Her eyes still hurt.
“Just a bit of advice,” she spoke after a half a minute of total silence.
“What?”
“Your wife is a selfish attention seeking whore and you’re not. Don’t let her ruin you. And by you, I mean your career.”
“Chill out Sunny,” I groaned in frustration. “I know what I’m doing. Ramey is a good person. Maybe if you took the time to get to know-”
“I don’t want to be around her!” Sunny yelled. “I don’t want to get to know her. You married her. You get to know her! I’m outta here.”
Sunny started walking again. This time I didn’t follow her. I’m happy with my decision, just like Sunny’s happy with her decision to marry her lame ass basketball player. I wish her the best. I wish she could do the same for me, but she won’t. Maybe she never will.
Chapter 1: Talk That Talk
I stepped out of the shower still feeling every bit as unnerved and unbalanced as I felt when I turned on the hot water. Two massaging showerheads and enough space to fit me, my NBA boyfriend, and possibly two other people just wasn’t enough to bring me out of the funk I’ve been in since I returned to New York from Vegas.
Xavier was stretched along our bed, on his back with his hands folded behind his head. Shirtless, in just a pair of red sweatpants, his lean muscles were relaxed as his chest rose and fell with each breath. He had a fresh haircut and the diamond in his ear was just a little smaller than the rock in my engagement ring.
Anyone walking into our bedroom would have assumed that he was sound asleep. He’s scared many a cleaning lady like that. I knew otherwise. The thin red cord of his earbuds was a dead giveaway. He’d been lying there for at least forty-five minutes, his pre-game ritual. I tightened the towel around me and slid into the bed, wrapping my body around his long 6’6” frame. Without opening his eyes, my fiancé curled his arm around me and kissed the top of my head.
While the hard bass of whatever rapper he was listening to thumped in Xavier’s ears, I did a mental inventory of my jam-packed closet in order to choose my outfit for tonight. As much as a chore it was to push all thoughts of Aiden and his new bride out of my head, I have to. I do not even want to get dressed, do my hair and makeup, and go to another basketball game at Madison Square Garden, but I am. I’m a celebrity stylist but I’m a basketball wife first…at least I’m going to be.
I’m a fiancée with a set wedding date and an In Case Shit Happens bank account. That means I’m already a three in the ladies of the NBA hierarchy. Amongst the players’ women, the hierarchy must be respected and adhered to. Nothing will get a girl locked out of the wives’ suite or out of Madison Square Garden all together quicker than pissing the Queen off for not following the spoken and unspoken rules of the players’ wives club.
Daniela Adriani-Tate is a tried and true basketball wife. She is the wife of Garrett Tate, five time NBA MVP and scoring champ. The Knicks built their franchise around him ten years ago and he’s not retiring any time soon. That makes Daniela the Queen. Her hierarchy is simple. As the wife of the franchise player, she’s pretty much on equal footing with the owner and coach’s wives. After her come the wives of the starters. The wives of the bench players come next. Then the fiancées of the starters. However, in New York right now, none of the bench players are married. That’s makes me a three. After me come the girlfriends of the starters. Last are the other players’ girlfriends. I’ve also learned that if your man wasn’t a first round draft pick, marital status really doesn’t matter. You’re going to be treated like a girlfriend anyway.
With our wedding practically paid for and everything else Xavier and I have going on to solidify our future together, combined with the fact that Daniela is one of my closest friends, I’m quickly moving up. I’m practically a two. When I speak, the other wives listen. It’s a weird sort of power that I didn’t know I’d enjoy.
After three years, I’ve come to learn what’s expected of me in this league. Marrying an athlete is like marrying into a family. Our lives are centered on the team and the game of basketball. Never will I ever watch another professional sport and question why the athletes get paid so much to play a game for a living. The focus Xavier has, the abuse his body takes, and the commitment to the game makes my job of taking care of him and supporting him very easy.
When I first moved to New York, I didn’t think this life was for me. Brunches, charity events, sitting in the suite for every home game...it seemed too much like my mom when she used to follow my father around with his band. However, I assimilated to the life because Xavier needed me and ultimately, he was the reason I left my home in Georgia and moved here. I’d do anything for Xavier. I love him that much. He’s the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, for better or worse. I’ll deal with worse because our better is the most incredible thing in my life.
After glancing at the clock, I patted Xavier’s chest and lifted one of his earbuds out of his ear.
“Time to get up, Xavier. You need to get ready for the game,” I said in flawless French, my fiancé’s first language.
“You’ve been practicing.” Xavier smiled. He sat up and took his earbuds out and his phone out of his pocket. “Are my-”
“Your clothes are in the dressing room,” I finished for him.
We go through this every game. I spend hours getting his look together and he asks where his clothes are…every time.
Xavier is a stylish guy without me. I don’t spend a lot of time shopping for him alone. However, he knows there aren’t many people who can style an outfit like I can.
A few minutes later, Xavier came downstairs wearing a pair of black 7 jeans, a light gray John Varvatos dress shirt, a black sports coat, and smelling like Gucci cologne. I checked his gym bag to make sure he had all of his necessary pre-game essentials then kissed him and sent him on his way. No less than two minutes after he left, Daniela was Facetiming me from upstairs in her penthouse.
“What’s up, Daniela?”
In the background, I could see her hairstylist working on her massive tresses of honey blonde hair. Her makeup artist was probably there too, waiting for her client to hang up the phone. Daniel is the worst type of client to have in the makeup chair. She thinks that any minute that she is sitting is a minute when she can be doing something else. Multitasking while trying to get your face beat doesn’t really work but she doesn’t care.
“I can’t decide what to wear tonight. What are you wearing?”
“That belted jumpsuit I got from Anne Taylor last week.”
“What color is it?”
“Gray since X is wearing black and gray.”
“Oh God.” She let out a loud puff of air. “Do you always have to coordinate with him?”
“It looks better in pictures,” I reminded her. “And there are always cameras around.”
“Don’t I know it? Garrett wore all black today so I can wear any color, right? I was thinking of wearing that purple chiffon blousy thing I bought the other day and those black pants Christian made for me, the ones with the purple tuxedo stripe.”
“Pair it with a slim pump then.”
“Girl, I just got three new pairs of Prada pumps sent over earlier! You know I love me a good Prada pump!”
“I know.”
“Ewww, what’s wrong? Did you and X have a fight? Sunny, you know you can’t be fighting with your man before a game!”
“We didn’t fight,” I told her. “Xavier and I are
good. I’ll tell you about it in the car.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour.”
The screen flashed then went back to my home screen.
Unlike most other wives, Daniela and I are always at the arena before tip-off and stay the entire four quarters. Since we live in the same building, we ride to Madison Square Garden together, chauffeured in her Bentley. That part I don’t mind at all. I hate driving in New York City. It’s a hundred times worse than driving in Atlanta. I’m on a first name basis with all the drivers at the service Xavier hires for me.
***
“We have to do something about this piece of shit buffet,” Daniela frowned as she speared a piece of rock shrimp onto her plate. “It’s the same food every game. Honestly, I’d rather we order from the menu. Remind me to bring that up at the next meeting. I’m sure Jenna or one of the other girlfriends can be in charge of taking our orders before the games.”
She laughed snottily and looked at Jenna who was sitting in her usual spot not speaking to anyone.
“Isn’t she a waitress?”
“You are acting very stuck up and snotty today,” I warned my friend. “Don’t even act like you didn’t wait a table or two before you married Garrett.”
“First of all,” Daniela laughed loudly. “I didn’t wait tables. I worked the counter at my dad’s butcher shop in Brooklyn until I graduated from college. I smelled like raw meat every day from age twelve until Garrett got drafted. Believe me, I know about humble beginnings. These players are marrying these girls that they met on Twitter. They need a little work ethic.”
“Jenna is in law school and they didn’t meet on Twitter. Make someone else do it.”
“Are you volunteering?”
I sat my plate down and held up my ring finger in Daniela’s face. My six-carat engagement ring was almost as big as hers.
“I think my ring says no.”
“I knew you’d pull rank eventually,” Daniela said with a smile. “Speaking of fiancées,” she said as we took our seats. “Did you hear what happened to Leilani in Philly while you were in Vegas?”
Sunny's Song (Friends Lovers or Nothing Book 2) Page 1
