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Quarterback's Surprise Baby (Bad Boy Ballers Book 2)

Page 22

by Imani King


  Probably the best thing to do would be to ask her what she would like.

  I go and grab my phone from my jacket and see a text. "From my love," I think, and immediately blush, even though I am alone. Rowan would give me such grief over something like that.

  "Nicholas, I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me and my family. You've been so kind. The driver took me home and I found the BMW where you said it would be. I've never driven one before! In any case, I think we should put off our special plans for Saturday until my dad's condition gets more settled. I hope you understand."

  "Of course - I was thinking the same thing," I text back. "I'm glad everything worked with the car. Let me know when you feel like talking, no rush."

  Maybe I will stop by on Saturday, and surprise them with the special cookies I ordered. It might brighten their day. I hope her eyes brighten and she gives me a huge hug, and presses her body against mine, even for a moment. Of course I don't want to impose so I'll just drop the cookies off and leave. Unless she invites me to stay...

  What a beautiful woman she is, that Adisa. Through and through. Like an angel.

  I feel the tightness in the front of my pants again and have to shift my focus before I burn this filet.

  17

  Adisa

  "Adisaaaa!" cries Chikae and buries her face in my hip. "Where were you? In the hospital?"

  "They say daddy's in the hospital and he's going to die," says Darius, so solemnly it almost makes me cry-laugh. Poor little man, my sweet Darius.

  "No honey, he's doing quite well, the doctor says, and he should be coming home very soon. He just has to get a bit stronger and then he’ll soon be as good as new.” I kneel down on the floor so I can hug both of them, and the fierceness of their embraces makes me remember once again how small and vulnerable they both are. "Don't you worry, my little birdies," I coo in their ear. "How was it at the neighbors? Did they treat you right?"

  "Ronnie has an X-box," Darius says, leaning back and looking me in the eye, his own narrowed. "Can we get one? Maybe for my birthday?"

  "Yeah, maybe for our birthdays, or if not I will ask for one from Santa next Christmas," Chikae says airily as I do some mental gymnastics to figure out any possible way to stretch the budget to include such a thing from either myself, or from next year’s ‘Santa.' At least next Christmas is a long way away and I hope this whole situation will have calmed down by then.

  "Well we'll see I suppose," I smile. "So did you behave yourselves at Ronnie’s house like I told you?"

  "You know it," yells Chikae. She's already off and running around the house. It's a good sign, I figure, that she isn't taking things so hard. But before I can completely relax, she runs back. "You're OK, right, Adisa?" she asks breathlessly.

  "What do you mean?"

  "You're feeling healthy and strong? Nothing wrong with you?"

  “Of course Chicky Boom Boom," I reassure her.

  “You aren’t going to have a hark-attack?”

  “That’s heart attack sweetie, and no, I won’t. I am young and strong and healthy, and so are you and Darius.” I pat her on the butt and she runs off again, mollified.

  "What's for dinner?" asks Darius. "I'm hooongry!" his little brown eyes glow. He rubs his stomach in an exaggerated parody of hunger. "Ronnie may have an X-Box but his mom can't make mac and cheese anywhere near as good as you!"

  "Well thank you, Darius," I say, surprised. “It's nice to be appreciated now and then."

  He continues to prattle on, telling me everything that Ronnie's family did, and grinning, I go into the kitchen to search for something - anything - that could be made into a dinner that will guarantee that I don't get demoted to lower status than "Ronnie's mom." Even if I’m only Darius’ sister. A girl’s got her standards, after all.

  When the kitchen is finally cleaned, dishwasher humming it's way through a cycle, and the kids in bed kissed and tucked in with stories read, I realize for the second time that day just how flippin’ tired I am. After trudging up the stairs I quickly swipe my face with a facial wipe and take my phone to bed, which I see is still a little rumpled from this morning. My insides pleasantly turn over a little as I remember how Nicholas' body felt against mine, his strong shoulders, thin hips, and those delicious lines that led down to his belt buckle (and beyond), slung low on his hips. My cowboy, I think, and I feel myself throb. But unfortunately for me, I'm too tired to even think about taking care of the warm, dull, tingling ache that Nicholas always awakens in my core.

  I fall into bed. My phone is the only thing that vibrates and I just barely catch his 'Good night, Adisa" message before my eyes shut and I barely move until the next morning, waking up in the exact same position I collapsed into.

  Darius is incredibly impressed with the company car.

  "This is one smooth ride!" he says, nodding his head approvingly. "Is this our new car?"

  "Not really, it's just a loan," I explain as I merge into the traffic on the main road that leads to the school.

  "From who, the government?" pipes up Chikae from the back seat.

  I burst out laughing and quickly stop myself. "No baby, from my boss," I explain.

  "That white dude? Santa Boss?" asks Darius. "Does he have more money than the government?"

  "No way," I say, and this time I am completely unable to stifle my laughter. "But sometimes I wonder if he has more money than God."

  Darius nods approvingly. "Nicholas is da man!"

  My cheeks grow hot as I think of the way he took command in the bedroom yesterday, and I have to agree. "Mm hm," I answer vaguely.

  "He da man!" echoes Chikae in her squeaky voice. She tosses her pigtails.

  "I'm glad you guys like him," I say, trying to bring my concentration back to my driving, where it should be. But it's not hard to let my mind wander to such a delicious topic. Those beautiful eyes, leading down to a gorgeous set of shoulders, pecs, and abs… I have to shake my head to bring myself back into the moment. Darius is right though, the BMW is one smooth ride. I glide up to the school and shift into park, to drop the kids off.

  Maybe this ride is a little too smooth. The moms are staring pretty openly. One of the other kids' moms gets out of her car and looks at the Beemer, a sneer of interest on her face.

  "Look at you girl," she says enviously, drawing out the last syllable. "Where'd you get this fine machine?"

  "From her boss! He rich!" yells Darius, before running off toward the big green doors of the school.

  "He da man!" Chikae repeats. I blush furiously, thanking heaven for my dark skin. At least I can pretend to be taking it cool.

  "It's a company car, temporarily on loan," I explain, in a way I hope doesn't sound to prideful, or too hasty. Super. Now I have the school moms' opinions to deal with.

  "Is he single? Adisa, you better lock that shit down," she whispers the last out of earshot of the kids, but I am still mortified.

  "He's my boss," I explain again, but I can barely meet her eyes. The vision of us in bed yesterday is still flashing in my mind, but with her words it seems a lot more... tawdry or something. Should I be ashamed? Is he just lending me this car because we slept together? Am I some kind of gold digger?

  "Well you must be one good employee!" her laugh sounds more like a cackle as she walks away, and I jump back into the luxury vehicle and pull away as quickly as is safe. I don't want to get some kind of strange reputation. But surely she was joking.

  I wouldn't have expected it, but in some ways I'll just be glad to have my old hoopty back. That way there will be no inopportune questions, and no awkward moments. But as I step on the gas and the car purrs into life, I know at least I am gonna enjoy this car while it lasts. This is a sweet ride, and so is Nicholas. And who cares what these silly mommies think - I am not one of them, not yet at least. I am a sister and I am allowed to date who I want, when I want.

  And what I want to do now, is to grab a couple of coffees and go visit my dad in the hospital.
/>   Saturday morning I am out at the hospital again, this time with the little ones, though they’ll spend most of the time in the playroom. It’s all a bit much for them to spend the whole visit in a hospital room, as concerned as they are. Their pursed mouths and knitted together eyebrows are almost comical in their earnestness. They're worried about their—well, our—daddy, but he is really doing so much better. His scar is healing well, he's walking—well more like shuffling, but it counts—down the hall and back, and the doctor thinks that he might be able to get out of the hospital as early as a couple weeks. I'm thrilled, because I finally see some life in the poor man since mama died. And we still haven’t discussed the insurance.

  "Adisa," he confided in me last night. "I want you to know, during the operation, I saw your mother." His voice is low, confidential. "Keep this to yourself, baby."

  "What do you mean you saw mama, daddy? How so?"

  "When I was under, I felt myself rising up over my body and I watched the operation, for a moment, and then I saw a very bright light. I went toward it, but before I reached it, your mother was there. I felt her presence very strongly. I wanted to go with her." He coughs and I give him his glass of water, which he drinks too slowly for my curiosity, but what can I do. When he's finished I wipe the few droplets away from his mouth, and he continues. "Anyway, she told me, no. You can't come with me yet. It's not your time. You need to take care of the little ones."

  My heart leaps at his words. And not only because he believes that he’s seen my mother. Which I get. After all, I imagine that I talk with her all the time. Could it be, that he will resume his fatherly responsibilities?

  "I tried to tell her no," he says. "I told her I was ready to join her, and I couldn't live without her, but she was adamant. Just like your mother, isn't it."

  I laugh. "Yes, when mama wanted something she was pretty serious about it," I say with a grin. "So she told you you have to take care of Darius and Chikae?" I prompt.

  "Yes," he says with a faraway look in his eyes. "And she told me one other thing," he says and now he is focused intently on me. "She said, Nicholas is a good man."

  Now it's my turn to sputter and cough. "She said what?"

  "That's all she said, she didn't explain. After that, I found myself floating back to my body, back to the table, and that's that." His eyes are questioning. "Who's Nicholas, baby?" He asks finally.

  "He's just my boss, daddy," I say, noticing that my voice has become unnaturally bright.

  "Your boss?" He shakes his head. "No, from what she said, sounds like he's much more than that. Do you know another Nicholas?"

  "I'm afraid he's the only one," I say. I look down at my hands, a little embarrassed. "But maybe one day he'll be more than that."

  "Your boss at the restaurant?"

  "No, he's the boss at Cor Industries. Nicholas Corbett."

  "That so? I think I saw him on the cover of one of the business magazines in the waiting room."

  "Could be," I admit. "He's pretty high up in the business world."

  "Handsome white man," he says.

  "Yes, that could be him, or one of his brothers. The whole family is pretty powerful."

  There's a moment where he digests this information. "You didn't mention that you got another job," he says suddenly.

  "It's just a temporary thing." I hadn't wanted to make daddy feel guilty, but we needed money when he stopped, well, functioning. And to be honest, the money would count for more than just a birthday, but it’s easier to think that we’ll just need it for something nice. "It'll be over in a couple weeks. It came up and I thought I could use something to tide us all over for a bit."

  "Well, you hold on to him," says my daddy. "If he's the one your mother likes, and he's set up in the business world, then you hold on to him and don't let go!" His lips form a line and he looks away, a pleased expression on his face.

  "Oh daddy," I say, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. "It's just not that easy sometimes." I stare at my hands, suddenly feeling shy. How to explain my situation with Nicholas? We don't know each other too well, he's my boss, we've had sex, and he is the kindest person I have ever met? None of this is something I want to tell my dad.

  But it doesn't matter. When I look up I see he is already drifting out of consciousness into a light sleep saving me from explaining the situation. To him, or to myself. Just better take it one day at a time. Still how did my dad pick up on him, if he didn't see my ghostly mom? Maybe one of the kids told him about Nicholas. Speaking of the kids, I should get them from the playroom, take them for a quick snack in the cafeteria, and then for their visit. Daddy will have a chance to rest. I kiss him on the cheek.

  "Hey kids, I need you to listen for a minute," I say as I dole out some yogurt and some spoons. "Can you be good listeners?"

  They bounce up and down in front of me.

  "I can be a better listener than Chikae," says Darius.

  "No way, I can be a better listener!" She's angry now. "Adisa, who's a better listener?" Her bottom lip is beginning to protrude, which is what happens just before the tears start to flow.

  "You're both good listeners. But I need you to listen now!"

  "Ok ok," they grumble, but then settle for a moment, big eyes staring up at me.

  "Did either one of you mention my boss to daddy, at any time?" I ask.

  “Boss man? Nope," says Darius. His brow is furrowed. “I wanted to tell him about the car today.”

  "Not me," says Chikae. "When you dropped us off from school with him, that's when we found Daddy and he went to the hospital." She screws up her face. “He was uncon- uncon-" Chikae tries. "Uncon-stipated!"

  "Unconscious!" Darius corrects, and then laughs until he falls over on the ground, rolling around clutching his stomach. “Unconscious!”

  "It's a mistake anyone could make," I say, trying not to let my own amusement show. No need to embarrass the poor little one.

  But that is true—Daddy was unconscious. And I’m pretty sure that he wasn't aware of his surroundings. So could that really mean—does my mother really know what's happening with me, with my life, with Nicholas? Could it be possible that my father really did see her during his operation? My mind boggles. I'll have to talk to the doctor if I get a chance. But of course, maybe dad was somehow aware and could hear people when he seemed completely out of it. Hard to know. I don’t want to sound crazy.

  But I do feel like she’s with me sometimes.

  "So are we gonna see Daddy now?" Darius says.

  "Can we jump on his bed?" Chikae begs. At this, Darius shoots Chikae a superior look, eyebrows raised, brow furrowed.

  "I don't think so, sweetie. This is the first time you're seeing Daddy since his operation and I just want to let you know that he's tired, and weak. And he might not look exactly like his usual self. But he's getting a lot better every day and I want you to focus on that." Poor little one. In some ways it’s hardest on her, since she’s got so little experience with this kind of thing and the experience she’s had isn’t good.

  "We will," the two say in unison.

  "Good." I gather them both in a quick hug, and I’m not entirely sure who it’s meant to comfort -- them or me. I guess it doesn’t matter, I think as I breathe in their scent.

  When we get back to the corridor I see that they’re rolling him out of the room and to a new one down the hall. It’s been upgraded. It’s a single, there’s a TV, and a view of the city.

  “Has there been some mistake?” I ask. “This looks expensive. You kids, stay here with daddy and I am going to talk to the nurse and get to the bottom of this.” I quickly walk back to the door. “No need,” croaks Daddy from the bed, which has been adjusted into a seated position. Extra pillows prop up his back. “Looks like we got ourselves a friend. Someone named Nicholas, says he knows you.” He winks, and then his eyes close a bit. “That the Nicholas that I heard about before?”

  I gasp.

  “Apparently there was a problem with my insurance,” D
addy continues, before taking a sip of water. “And this Nick person called up to check on me, and he paid the bill. I guess he must have got a deal on the room, because they wheeled me in here.” He takes another sip and clears his throat. “I hope that’s ok with you, Addy. I honestly wasn’t in much of a position to protest.”

  “Well, sure, I guess,” I say. “But I’d like to know more about it. What’s this about a problem with your insurance?” I prompt him, but he doesn’t take the bait. “There’s a problem, but we’ll talk about it later hon.” I guess that’s fair, as he’s just recovering from a heart attack, but at the same time, Nicholas shouldn’t feel obligated to take care of everything that’s gone wrong with this family. And why is there a problem with the insurance? Daddy must have lost his job. I don’t see any other possibility there. Nicholas

  “Saint Nicholas,” says Darius knowingly, nodding his head, and I silence him with a look.

  Chikae scrambles up onto the chair-bed and snuggles in beside our dad, who grimaces a little in pain before giving her a little kiss on the top of the head.

  “Easy with daddy, now, Chicky,” I caution her. “He just had an operation. You need to be very still and careful with him.” “I am!” she protests, but his twisting face says otherwise. I go to remove her from the bed but daddy shakes his head weakly.

  “I need the hug,” he says, and along with the pain, there’s a little twinkle in his eye. Or maybe a tear.

  “Ok,” I say, and I hug him myself. My poor daddy’s been through a lot. But I still have to admit to myself that my head is swimming. Why did Nicholas do that? What does he expect for such a grand gesture? How does he see me? I hope he doesn’t feel sorry for me, or that he can buy his way into my pants. Or my life. I adore the man, maybe even love him—but I can’t pretend that this doesn't put a lot of pressure on our relationship, if we even have one. I also can’t say I am not uncomfortable at the idea that he could want something from me for this.

 

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