Business of Love

by Hodges, Cheris

  “And who is on your ‘do call’ list?”

  “Darren Alexander and that’s it, unless it’s someone from inside the company. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said sarcastically.

  Jill slammed the phone down and tried to return to the document that she was working on. The phone rang immediately.

  “Yes?”

  “Hard day?” Darren asked.

  “Very much so. How are you?”

  “Okay, but I’ll be much better when you’re better. Let me take you away from all your stress, at least for a couple of hours.”

  “And go where?” Jill asked as she twirled the phone cord around her finger.

  “Lunch and a little workout.”

  “Workout?”

  “That’s the best way to relieve stress, a vigorous workout, clothing optional.”

  Jill blushed like a teenager seeing a naked man for the first time. She rose and closed the door to her office. “Mr. Alexander, I do believe you are propositioning me.”

  “I am. Oh, do you want to join me and my brother and some friends to watch the game this weekend? It’s a tradition that whenever the Falcons make the playoffs we watch the championship game, eat, drink and be merry.”

  “Are you sure you all want a girl to crash your testosterone party?”

  “You’re going to be a welcomed addition. Now, back to my propositioning. Can you leave in the next twenty minutes?”

  “I sure can, I’m not getting much work done right now anyway.”

  “See you then,” he said.

  When Jill hung up, she dashed into the bathroom and freshened up, brushed her teeth and fluffed her hair. Then she dabbed a bit of jasmine perfume on her wrists and behind her ears.

  As she walked out the door, she told Madison that she would see her the next morning.

  “Well, well,” Madison replied. “Have fun for me too.”

  Jill winked at her. “I will.”

  By the time she made it downstairs, Darren was walking into the building. “Perfect timing,” he said.

  “Yes. Let’s get out of here.”

  They strolled out onto Peachtree Street hand in hand. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I figured we’d have lunch at the Madison Grill,” he said. “You wouldn’t happen to have some gym shorts handy, would you?”

  “Up in my office,” she said, eyeing him with questions dancing in her eyes.

  “Sneakers too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go get them.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you we’re going to work out and,” Darren looked down at her heels, “I don’t think you can perform in those shoes.”

  Jill folded her arms across her chest. “What kind of performance are we talking about?”

  “On the court. You do have basketball skills, don’t you?” he asked.

  “You are asking for it now, buddy,” she said as she turned and headed back into the office.

  Jill dashed passed Madison who said, “I thought you were gone.”

  “I am,” she said. “You’re not seeing me.”

  Jill walked into her office and grabbed her gym bag. She always kept one in her office, but rarely had time to use her midtown gym membership at Gold’s. I’m going to cream him, she thought as she hoisted her bag strap over her shoulder.

  * * *

  After lunch, Darren took Jill to the city’s workout facility where all of the firefighters and police officers worked out and played. But at this time of the day, Darren knew the place was going to be deserted.

  “You can change over there and prepare to take this whipping like the Eagles on Sunday.”

  Jill kicked off her shoes. “Please, I’m Michael Vick and you’re the Eagles secondary, about to get scorched.”

  Darren looked at her feet. She was definitely a woman who believes in pedicures. Her toes were so perfect and were also about the only part of her body that he hadn’t sampled lately. He reached into her bag and pulled out her socks. “Let me get those for you,” he said, then eased each foot into the white socks. Next, he put her gym shoes on.

  Jill stood and headed for the locker room. “Hope you’re ready to lose.”

  Darren couldn’t help smiling at her confidence, but when she got on the court, he was going to show her no mercy. Seconds later, Jill walked out of the locker room dressed in a pair of Lycra shorts that hugged her luscious curves like a second skin. The tank top that she wore pushed her breasts up and made him want to kiss them until she begged him to stop.

  “No fair,” he said.

  “What? We haven’t even started playing yet,” she said.

  “And I’m supposed to concentrate with you looking like that?”

  Jill walked over to him and took the ball from his hand. “Don’t make excuses for why you’re going to lose.” She dribbled the ball between her legs as if she were Allen Iverson.

  Despite what a sexy distraction she was, Darren knew it was game time. “Take the ball out,” he said. “First one to ten.”

  Jill tossed the ball to him. When Darren began to dribble, Jill stole the ball from him and shot it in the hoop.

  “Two zip,” she said as she tossed the ball to him.

  “All right, you think you got skills,” he said as he dribbled the ball, keeping his eye on her so that she wouldn’t be able to steal the ball this time. Darren went up for his shot, but Jill altered his shot by putting her hand in his face. The ball bounced off the rim and Jill chased down the rebound and hit a shot from behind the arch.

  “Five zip, where’s the D, baby?” she asked slapping him on the behind.

  Darren took the ball and drove to the hole, nearly knocking Jill over. “Two points, in your face, boo!”

  Jill took the ball and dribbled around him, taunting him by hiking her booty in the air. “Come get it, baby, come on.”

  Darren wrapped his arms around her waist and brushed his lips against her sweaty neck.

  “Foul,” she said as she turned around to receive his full kiss.

  Darren devoured her lips, sucking her tongue as if he were trying to suck it dry. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and he lifted her legs around his waist. They backed on to the bleachers, clawing at each other’s clothes as if they were in the privacy of their own home. Darren swelled with anticipation when he reached between Jill’s legs and felt her body throbbing.

  “Ahem,” a voice said.

  Darren and Jill looked up at a group of kindergartners and two police officers who were obviously giving them a tour. Jill covered her hand with her face. “Oh my God,” she muttered.

  “Uh, sorry,” Darren said as he and Jill gathered their things and slunk out of the center.

  Once they made it outside, Darren and Jill looked at each other and burst out laughing. “That was crazy. I just knew no one would be there today,” he said.

  Jill held on to his shoulder as she laughed. “I still beat you and if you hadn’t distracted me with your lips, then I would have gotten to 10 first.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, I was just getting warmed up,” Darren replied as he took her by the hand. “Let’s find some place else to play.”

  “We can go to Gold’s Gym. I have a membership there and I think they have a basketball court. I know they have a private sauna. The key is in my bag.”

  “I like the sound of that, but I don’t think I want to play with you any more. Losing to a girl would bruise my ego beyond repair.”

  “I guess I should have told you, I played ball in school and I was an All American,” Jill said proudly.

  “You learn something new every day,” Darren said as he led her to his car.

  “Still want to play me?”

  “No, Miss All American. I’m going to have to look up your stats on the Internet and see what other secrets you’re hiding.”

  “I don’t have any secrets, just ask me what you want to know,” she said in a clipped tone.

  “Calm down,
baby, it was just a joke.”

  She sighed and squeezed his hand. “I’m not trying to be difficult. But you can’t believe everything that a computer spits out and you have the source right here.”

  Darren kissed her hand but wondered why she’d reacted so strongly to his joke about the Internet. He had to wonder if she were hiding something. What could it be? Maybe I’m just being paranoid. No one wants to have his or her privacy invaded.

  “We’re off to Gold’s, right?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Darren looked at her, wondering why she couldn’t open up to him completely. He felt like she was still holding a part of her life back from him. Was it that she didn’t truly trust him? Darren knew he’d never do anything to hurt her or make her feel as if she couldn’t put her trust in him. He gave her a little smile, wishing he could read her mind and see what she was hiding.

  “What’s that smile for?” she asked.

  “Being with you makes me smile. That’s not a crime, is it?”

  “No,” she replied. Heat rose to her cheeks. “I don’t know what to make of you sometimes. You seem too good to be true.”

  “I’m no mirage. What you see is what you get.”

  “Darren, I-I…” Her voice trailed off as if whatever she had to say pained her.

  He reached out and stroked her arm. “What is it, Jill?”

  She smiled softly and said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I really care about you and I don’t want to lose you in my life. Being with you has given me the chance to dream of love again.”

  “Sounds like there’s a but in there somewhere,” he said.

  “No, there’s not. I’m just not that great at expressing how I feel sometimes.”

  “And I thought women were supposed to be the emotional ones.”

  Jill folded her arms across her chest. “In the shark pool of corporate America, a show of emotions is like dropping blood in the water. It’s hard to turn that on and off, especially after David, even though I know you aren’t him.”

  “That’s right, because I would never do anything to hurt you. The rules of business don’t apply to romance.”

  Jill made a grunting noise as if she were remembering everything David did to her and everything that Darren was going to have to undo to truly have her heart. “I think I know that in my heart, but my head doesn’t want to have my heart broken again.”

  “And it won’t be.”

  Jill rolled her eyes. “You can’t say that.”

  “With certainty and deliberation and even premeditation, I promise not to break your heart.”

  She beamed at his proclamation. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she said as they slid into his car.

  “Just let me sign my name across your heart.”

  She eyed him quizzically. “And how do you plan to do that, Terance Trent D’Arby?”

  “That song was the jam, wasn’t it? And I thought I was being clever.”

  Jill leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t ever try your hand at comedy.”

  “That was cold.”

  “But honest.”

  They rode in a peaceful silence to Gold’s Gym and when Darren tuned the radio to an urban oldies station, Terance Trent D’Arby’s song began to play. He and Jill looked at one another and broke out laughing.

  “See, there’s the confirmation. We’re meant to be,” he said before turning into the parking lot of the gym.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The agony of defeat was etched on every face in Cleveland’s living room. Three minutes were left in the game and the Atlanta Falcons were down by 10 points. Michael Vick, usually Mr. Magic on the field, looked like an over-hyped quarterback and Donovan McNabb showed why he was making his third appearance in the NFL’s Pro Bowl.

  Jill chewed on her bottom lip, crossed her fingers and legs, and stared at the TV, hoping that Vick would create a miracle and the Falcons would win the NFC championship.

  “Vick’s pass is picked off,” the commentator said.

  “Ah! Man!” the small crowd said. Jill uncrossed her fingers and legs and stopped biting her lip. Darren rubbed her thigh.

  “You all right, baby?” he asked.

  “This sucks!” Jill said. “I was ready to go down to Jacksonville and cheer on Vick!”

  Cleveland’s friend Roland looked over at Jill and smiled. “You really like football, sista. I thought you were just trying to impress Darren.”

  Jill flashed him a fake smile. She’d had to check Roland the moment she walked in the door.

  “Oh, halftime entertainment,” he’d said when he spotted her.

  “Man, chill with that,” Darren warned.

  Cleveland smacked Roland, who was short, round and bald, on the back of his head. “Jill knows more about football than you do.”

  With that comment, the battle was on. Roland threw out some trivial statistics about the NFL and some of the most popular teams, like the Dallas Cowboys and Washington Redskins.

  The other men who had been in the kitchen began gathering around Roland and Jill.

  “Emmitt Smith is the league’s leading rusher and he made most of those yards with the Cowboys,” Roland said.

  “But Barry Sanders was on pace to break Walter Payton’s record and had he not retired or had the O-line that Smith had with Dallas all of those years, he would have broken that record before Emmitt,” Jill said. “And let’s talk Payton. When the Bears won the Super Bowl in 1985, how many touchdowns did he score in that game?”

  “One,” Roland replied confidently.

  Jill wagged her finger in his face. “Wrong. Walter didn’t score one touchdown in the Super Bowl.”

  Ooh’s and ah’s were emitted from the small gathering. “Damn, took down by a woman,” Cleveland ribbed.

  “Now, Roland, can I sit down before kickoff?” Jill asked. “Or do you have some other football questions I can clear up for you?”

  Darren proudly placed his arm around Jill’s shoulders. With his free hand, he tapped Roland’s cheek. “And she’s an All American on the basketball court.”

  Now Roland seemed to have a newfound respect for Jill and her sports knowledge.

  “You look familiar to me,” he said.

  Jill inhaled sharply. “Really? Maybe I have one of those faces.” Please God, don’t let this man know me.

  “Maybe so. Did you go to Clark Atlanta?”

  “Spelman.”

  “Maybe that’s where I’ve seen you. I went to Morris Brown, before they lost their accreditation,” he said. “You played ball for Spelman, right?”

  “Sure did. Led the school in scoring, a record that has yet to be broken,” Jill said proudly.

  Darren returned to the living room with a platter of hot wings. “Roland, leave my woman alone.”

  “Aw, man, you caught me. I was trying to steal her away. Jill, you have got to be the perfect woman. Not only do you like football, you know your stuff,” Roland said, then kissed her hand.

  Louis, one of the firefighters that worked at the station with Cleveland and Darren, chimed in. “Most women spend half the game asking stupid question. ‘Baby, what’s a first down?’ ”

  “Or,” Cleveland added, “‘How come they hit so hard?’ ”

  Jill stood up, “Hey, hey, I can’t let you all bash the sisters, because there are a lot of women out there who love football and get into it just as much as I do.”

  “Where are they hiding,” Cleveland asked.

  “You got sisters?” Roland inquired.

  “Don’t you want to leave Darren and run away with me?” Louis said.

  Darren tossed a celery stick at him. “She’s not going anywhere.”

  Jill wrapped her arms around Darren’s waist. “That’s right.”

  “So, who’s hosting the Super Bowl party?” Roland asked, looking at Jill and Darren.

  “Was that your not-so-subtle hint that Jill and I should throw the party?” Darren asked.

  “I’m
saying the two of you are the new power couple of the group,” Cleveland said. “Besides, I’m tired of having your rusty Negroes all up in my house.”

  Darren looked at Jill as if to say it was up to her.

  “Fine,” she said. “We can all get together at my place for the Super Bowl and I’ll even order some wings and stuff.”

  Roland stepped back and eyed her. “Order? You mean you can’t cook? I knew you were way too good to be true.”

  Darren plunked him on the forehead. “You don’t need to worry if she’s perfect or not. She’s perfect for me.”

  Cleveland held up the remote. “Does anyone care about the AFC championship game?”

  “Of course,” Jill said. “I hope the Steelers can take down New England. That way the Eagles will definitely win the Lombardi trophy.”

  “Man, whatever,” Roland said. “Philly doesn’t have an answer for that hamburger boy.”

  “Hamburger boy?” Louis said.

  “He means Roethlisberger, the rookie quarterback who has never faced this kind of pressure. The Eagles will cream them,” Jill said matter of factly.

  “I got to agree with her,” Darren said.

  “You saw what the Eagles did to Michael Vick,” Louis said. “Burger boy wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “So we’re cheering for the Eagles now?” Roland asked.

  “No, but I don’t want New England to win again, because I hate dynasties unless there is a star or a falcon on the side of the helmet,” Jill said.

  “A star? As in the Dallas Cowboys?” Louis asked. “Man, I thought you were cool, Jill. I was about to give you a nickname and all of that. But you’re a closet Dallas fan.” Louis mimicked a kung-fu stance. “You are my mortal enemy.”

  Darren whispered in her ear, “He’s from DC and only cheers for the Falcons because Washington, like the Cowboys, won’t see the Super Bowl again in our lifetime.”

  Jill pinched Darren’s arm. “Whatever.”

  Louis yawned and excused himself from the second game. “Some of us have to work tomorrow.”

  “That’s right, you do,” Darren laughed. “You’ve only had two weeks off, how sad.”

  Louis flicked his hand and headed for the door. Jill glanced down at her watch. She would have loved to spend some time alone with Darren, but he didn’t look as if he was in any hurry to leave as he took a seat and a plate full of wings.