She watched Monique step inside Tiffany’s office. Naomi got back to her desk only a few seconds later; she figured she wanted to be close by to try to hear what was said and defend herself, if need be. She could overhear Monique telling Tiffany how Naomi had shown up shouting in her doorway while she was in the middle of a meeting. Meeting? Yeah, right—sharing more gossip, Naomi thought. Monique went on to say how she didn’t appreciate what Naomi had done, and if she weren’t a professional businesswoman, she would have told her off. She said Tiffany needed to handle her staff. The words that heightened Naomi’s anger were when she heard Monique say, “This isn’t a club.” As soon as she realized that she had nothing much to lose, Naomi walked over to Tiffany’s office.
As soon as she arrived in Tiffany’s sight, Tiffany sat up and folded her hands. She probably hadn’t expected Naomi to come confront her or Monique at this time, but from her body language and expression, it seemed she preferred that it be addressed.
“Tiffany, I am sorry to have this childish issue in your office because I know you have a lot of important work to tend to,” Naomi started off.
Sensing the butt-kissing intro, Tiffany waved her hand in a “get on with it” motion.
“It was brought to my attention that rumors had been spreading about the building that concerned me and my reputation. I was also told that these rumors were being started by Monique here, and upon hearing these false rumors about myself, I reacted by confronting Monique and asking her to please refrain from spreading stories about me. Maybe it wasn’t the correct time or place, but I felt as though it needed to be stopped immediately, and I reacted.”
Tiffany turned to look at Monique as if to ask her if she had anything to say about it. From the way Tiffany turned without a response, Naomi got the impression that she agreed that Monique should’ve been confronted.
“Well, listen, that it came from me is a rumor as well,” Monique said. “I could care less what you thought or what you heard, but if your sexual escapades can’t be kept in your personal life, don’t bring that to me. The next time you come to my office waving your hands and raising your voice, I won’t be so nice.”
Tiffany didn’t stop her or assure her that Naomi would be reprimanded, and that must have pissed her off even more.
“The next time you put my name in your mouth, I won’t be so nice either,” Naomi said.
“Whatever,” Monique said as she turned out of Tiffany’s office.
Naomi looked back at Tiffany, and instantly her anger subdued some and she became nervous again that Tiffany might lash out at her.
“Where did this little fireball come from?” Tiffany asked.
“I apologize, Tiffany. I just really didn’t appreciate what she was doing.”
Tiffany laughed a bit and shook her head.
“You are surely not the little girl I hired from Texas, I tell you that,” she said.
Naomi smiled, trying to relax for just a second. “I am the same girl,” she said.
“I don’t know about all that, but I do hope that you’re just as angry with Tyreek as you are Monique because she isn’t the one who told me,” Tiffany said, dropping her head but raising her eyeballs.
“Hmmm,” Naomi said. She was very appreciative of Tiffany’s ability to treat her as an equal at this moment and not belittle or berate her. However, she didn’t feel comfortable enough with her yet to admit that those rumors were true. At this point she figured she would be better off just denying anything had ever happened and let it be her word against the rumor mill.
Chapter 31
Sereeta wasn’t sure what to expect when she pulled up to Corey’s house. They had been back from Los Angeles for three days now, and aside from the night before when he had asked her to attend the Cîroc party with him, she had been off work. The entire time in LA, they had pretended almost as if what had happened on the plane never had happened—just like Corey had said. Her hotel room was down the hall from his, and after the long days of meetings, sneaker stores, and press, they were in their hotel rooms the entire night. On the ride back to New York, Corey didn’t seem to mind that Sereeta watched MTV on her side of the plane.
He had called earlier that morning and asked her to come by his house to gather some of his belongings to have them shipped to his cousin in Detroit. There was no car sent for her or any specific time given, so she figured she would just get there as early as possible. After she spoke to him, she got dressed and headed on over. When she got there, only two of Corey’s cars were in the driveway, and it looked pretty quiet as usual in the neighborhood. The houses on his block were huge and far apart from one another; it was a beautiful neighborhood.
Sereeta parked her car and went up to the house. She rang the bell once and then used her key. She walked inside the house and instantly noticed a few things were out of place. She saw a gym bag in the corner that was open and some sneakers in another corner. Sereeta locked the door and began to walk farther into the house. She saw a few bottles of Grey Goose and Hypnotic on the coffee table and glasses by the end tables.
“Corey!” she yelled, unsure where he was or if he was even still home.
“You can come up!” he shouted.
She walked past more disheveled clothes and a pink overnight bag. She realized then that this was the site of a party of sorts the night before or that morning. She walked up the stairs, and voices became louder as she got closer to the top. She reached the top and saw a brown-skinned young lady with just her panties on run down the hall and into one of the guest bedrooms. Sereeta stood where she was at the top of the stairs, afraid to walk any farther and see any other private parts. The girl closed the door behind her, and then Sereeta was standing in the long hallway alone. A few seconds later, Corey turned the corner, coming out of the master bedroom.
“What’s up, Sereeta?” he said.
Inside she felt let down that he had had no thought as to whether her feelings were involved after what had happened on the plane. She was hoping he would be a little more caring than he was. No apology given for her having to see that, no explanation, no anything. She knew if she said anything she would sound like a jealous or nagging girlfriend, and she wasn’t going to lose her job over this. Still, the look on her face couldn’t hide how disappointed she was feeling that Corey had called her upstairs while a half-naked girl was in the hallway.
He knelt down to tie his sneakers and fix the bottom of his sweat pants.
“Nothing,” she finally replied.
“Cool, I just received three shipments from And One and Nike. I wanted you to take one of everything and package it in a box and ship it to my cousin,” he said.
“OK, boss,” she replied.
He looked up at her and tried to make eye contact, but she turned to walk down the stairs.
“Sereeta!” he called.
“Yes?” she said.
“The boxes are in the third bedroom to the left, and I wasn’t done,” he said as he stood up.
“OK.”
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
Sereeta figured she wasn’t doing a good job hiding her attitude. “Not at all. Why?”
Corey shrugged his shoulders as though he was in no mood for any side conversations. “When you’re done, go in the bottom drawer in the small closet and take out a few packs of the socks and shorts and put that in the package.”
“No problem,” she replied.
Corey didn’t bother to acknowledge the sarcastic undertone in her voice that time.
“A’ight, and call me when you are done. I have a few more things I need you to do,” he said before he headed down the stairs.
Sereeta walked down the hall to the third bedroom to the left. She heard a male and female voice coming from the second bedroom to the right but kept walking. How many people are in the house? The young lady she had seen had gone into a different bedroom, and the rooms didn’t connect. Corey’s master bedroom was closed, and she couldn’t see inside to make sure
he didn’t have any sleeping guests. She walked straight ahead to the room she’d been sent to and tried to mind her business. She realized that just because she had grouped out and fucked Corey, she had no rights to him or any right to know any of his business.
She walked into the room and headed straight for the closet. She heard a loud noise, and she jumped. She turned and saw Corey, who seemed to be tickled by the light scream she had yelled out.
“I forgot something,” he said.
“Where are you headed?” she said.
“I have to go get a haircut and handle some things,” he said.
“Who is here?”
“A couple of my teammates, and they have company,” he said, tossing his keys in the air as he headed toward the door.
“Oh, they have company, OK.”
Corey stopped and looked at her.
“Oh, you’re funny, huh?” he said.
Before she could reply, he was walking out of the room. She wanted to take something and just throw it at him. Damn, she thought. How did you let yourself even get in this situation? Did she really think he was going to make her his girl or something just because she’d had sex with him? For some reason, she had been hoping it had meant more to him than just that. She didn’t want to admit it, but it had meant more to her.
She tried to come home from LA and talk to Mark, but her mind had been on Corey. She had even hung out with Mark, and he had spent the night with her. The last thing she had wanted to do was fall for a man she couldn’t have. Mark was fun, smart, handsome, and not an unattainable NBA player. Still, even while she and Mark were fooling around, she was enjoying every second it, but her mind would drift to when she had been with Corey. She wanted to know if Corey had thought about it for even a second after it was over or if it was just all business for him.
She pulled out a few pairs of socks and shorts from the bottom drawer in Corey’s closet and brought them with her into the bedroom. She placed the socks and shorts on the bed and walked over to the six large boxes in the bedroom. She noticed one was open, and when she peeked inside, she saw a bunch of shorts with AND 1 logos on it. She began to open the flaps on the box so she could see what was inside, and she began to separate the items. She heard a noise from the hallway and stood still so she could hear better. She recognized the sound of someone vomiting. Sereeta went to the door, and she could see someone bent over the toilet bowl in the bathroom. She could see it was a male, but all she could see were his size-thirteen flip-flops and bottom end. She went back into the bedroom to continue what she was doing.
Corey needs a wife. He lets his house get treated like a hotel or something. She knew it wasn’t her place, but it was way too common for the team to utilize his house as a place to get drunk and bring their groupies. Sereeta found it a bit distasteful. Although she hadn’t seen him in the mix of it yet, she knew he was. It was pretty likely that they were using his house because they had girlfriends or wives at home. Sereeta reminded herself that it was best she just listen to Corey’s advice and stick to trying to get to know Mark. As much as it would be dreamy to be Mrs. Cox, there was just too much hard work and baggage with that package, and she wasn’t up for trying to create a miracle.
She began to pull some of the items out of the box when she heard some bumps in the hallway. She figured it was the same guy trying to make his way back to the bedroom. She placed three pairs of shorts, one of each color, on the bed and then went back over to the door, and stood still. The noise was closer, and when she looked up, there was a guy in the doorway. It was France Thomas, one of Corey’s teammates.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked.
“Corey asked me to take care of something for him,” she said.
It was obvious he was out of it. He reached over to the top of the tall dresser closest to the door and grabbed a condom out of the box.
“I need a pair of those shorts,” he said.
Sereeta picked up a black pair and tossed it to him. He caught them and looked at her as though he wasn’t too pleased that she had thrown them instead of handing them to him. Sereeta began to remove another black pair from the box as if she didn’t notice him still standing there. She looked over at him again to see if anything was wrong.
“I need a shirt, too,” he said.
She began to sift through the box for a T-shirt. She had seen some in there a few seconds ago. As she pulled out a shirt and went to check the size, she noticed France removing his shorts. She assumed he had boxers or something underneath, but when she looked she saw a clear shot of all his business. Sereeta quickly walked toward the door in hopes of getting by him so she could exit the room while he changed.
“Here you go.” She handed him the T-shirt as she tried to pass.
“Don’t run,” he said as he grabbed her arm.
“I’m not running, I’m just going to get something to drink,” she said.
“You’re just scared of my big dick, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not looking at your penis. I just want to go downstairs.” She tried to wiggle her arm free, but he had a firm grip on her.
“Get your ass back to work,” he said as he pushed her back in the room.
Sereeta flew back a few feet and then looked up at him in fear. Instead of challenging him, she began folding the shorts on the bed while she tried to keep him in sight. She could see through her peripheral vision that he was removing his T-shirt, which had vomit on it. He was drunk, his eyes were bloodshot, and the smell of liquor and vomit was permeating. Sereeta began to hear a female voice down the hall, and she was hoping he would leave to tend to her. Instead he stood there. Still.
Sereeta went over to the box to remove more items. She was taking deep breaths, trying her best to remain calm. She turned to place some of the shirts and wristbands on the bed. Just as she turned around to get more items and see if France had left, she noticed something directly behind her. France was standing a few inches from her.
“France!” she screamed. “What are you doing?”
He was standing there buck-ass naked with some socks on, and he had this look in his eyes, like he was a street gangster and not the familiar guy from the basketball games.
“You know you want this long dick,” he said.
She looked down and noticed he was placing on his penis the condom he had just taken from Corey’s dresser.
“No, really, I don’t,” Sereeta said.
He was directly in front of her, and his large frame blocked her view of the door or anything beyond him. However, she took a step to the left and tried to walk past. As soon as she thought she was home free, he grabbed her shoulder and tossed her back on the bed.
“What did I tell you about running? You have work to do,” he said.
“Stop,” she said. “I’m leaving.”
“No, you aren’t.”
She tried to get up again, pushing him back with all her might and trying to jump off the bed, but by the time she made a little distance from the bed, he pushed her right back. She began swinging her fists against him and trying to kick him in his balls, but he moved out of the way just in time. He took one of his large hands and pinned her down by her neck. He took his other hand and lifted her skirt up over her waist. Sereeta was regretting at that very moment that she had worn a skirt this particular day, trying to be cute for Corey, only to lead to easy access for France. She was screaming, and almost nothing was coming out—his hand on her neck was blocking her vocal cords.
“Corey told me this pussy was right. I’ll be the judge of that,” he said.
Sereeta’s body tensed up even more when those words resonated throughout her body. Did I bring this on myself by opening my legs in the first place? Now the entire team thinks I’m a groupie? When she felt him pull her panties to the side and begin to probe his penis around for her opening, she went numb. Her mind went blank. It was as if she passed out and became unconscious, but in reality she was right there underneath two-hundred-thirty
-five-pound, six-three France. She was looking up at the ceiling, asking the angels or someone to come help her out of this situation. She saw glimpses of France’s face, and she could slightly hear him groaning, but it was all like part of a blurry dream.
“Stop it! Get off her!” she heard someone yell.
It was a female voice. When Sereeta looked down, she saw the same brown-skinned girl with no bra pulling at France’s arms.
“Get off her! What are you doing?” the girl screamed.
France must have realized from the shocked look on the girl’s face that he was bugging the hell out. He jumped off Sereeta and pulled her up by her arm.
“Are you OK?” the girl asked.
Sereeta placed her hand around her neck as she began to breathe heavily, trying to catch her breath.
“Are you fucking crazy?” the girl asked France. “Isn’t she Corey’s assistant? How the hell you go and do something like that to her?”
Sereeta could tell from the look on the girl’s face that she was extremely pissed off and disgusted, but definitely not more than Sereeta was.
“Are you OK?” France asked her. He had knelt down some to look in Sereeta’s face.
Sereeta took all the strength she had left in her body and slapped the shit out of him, and before he could react, she darted for the door. When she reached the end of the hall, she looked back and saw France trying to come after her.
“Wait—I’m sorry!” he yelled. He stumbled and almost fell, and by the time he gained his balance, Sereeta was running down the stairs. She grabbed her purse off the table and headed for the front door. She walked as fast as she could to her car and began trying to find her keys. Her hands were shaking, and she was trying to slow down enough to get her keys into her car. She felt the metal keys and began to pull them out of her purse when she heard footsteps walking up close behind her.
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