I'll Catch You (Kimani Romance)

by Farrah Rochon

  Cedric pulled into a parking slot and Payton pulled in next to him.

  She got out of her car and rounded it. Cedric was leaning into the back of his SUV. He came out with the alligator duffel bag that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe.

  “What happened to my Chinese food?” Cedric asked. Payton winced. “I’m only teasing you,” he continued with a chuckle. “I called in the order on our drive over. It’ll be here any minute. Come on.” He tipped his head toward the bank of elevators.

  When the elevator doors closed, Payton said, “I’m trying to figure out if that’s allowed.”

  “Chinese food?” Cedric asked, hefting the bag over his shoulder.

  “No. Teasing.”

  “Last time I checked it wasn’t against the law.”

  “We’ll need to establish some boundaries, Cedric. I don’t know how close you were with Gus Houseman—”

  He cut her off. “There was no teasing with Gus.”

  “So there shouldn’t be any with me.”

  He stared at her across the mirrored elevator, and the space seemed to shrink to half its size. He conceded with a simple nod. “Fine. This is a strictly professional partnership, right?”

  “That’s right,” she declared, despite the voice in her head lobbying a protest against her words.

  She ignored the confusing twinge of disappointment that edged along the perimeter of her brain. From the very beginning Payton realized that one of the most important things she would need to establish with her clients was boundaries. Being the ultimate football junkie, she knew she’d have to curb her fan-girl tendency of gushing over her favorite players. The fact that just being near Cedric sent her pulse into overdrive was even more reason to adhere to her vow to remain professional.

  They took the parking garage elevators to the fifth floor, exited and slipped right into an open elevator directly across the hall. There were two people inside, who both immediately started hammering Cedric with questions about today’s game. The elevator stopped several times to let residents on and off, then finally dinged its arrival at the thirty-eighth floor.

  Cedric motioned for her to go first and then guided her down the hallway. Payton tried not to gawk at the plush carpet that swallowed the heels of her simple black pumps, or the avant-garde artwork that decorated the soft gray walls.

  Cedric opened the door to his unit and again motioned for her to go ahead of him. Payton’s jaw dropped as soon as she entered the apartment. She quickly shut it but the astonishment remained as she took in the spectacular home before her.

  The entryway was done in a beautiful cream-andtan marble with streaks of bronze and gold swirling throughout. Payton followed Cedric from the marble dais, down three steps and into a spacious living area. The kitchen, den and bar were all part of one wide-open space done in the same understated cream and tan with splotches of dark brown, bronze and gold.

  A doorbell sounded.

  “That’s probably the Chinese,” Cedric said.

  She went for her purse but Cedric stopped her. “I got this.”

  “I should pay.”

  He shook his head.

  “At least let me cover my half,” Payton argued.

  “I’m going to eat way more than you will anyway,” he said. “You can start picking up the tab once you land me a fat contract.”

  The doorbell rang again. Payton watched as Cedric stepped over to it and opened it for the delivery guy. She was uncomfortable with him paying for her dinner. It should be the other way around; she was the one still trying to woo him.

  She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of the entire space. The corner apartment had one of the most amazing views Payton had ever seen. In a slow span from right to left, she could see the Jersey end of the George Washington Bridge, along with the ridiculously high-priced condos along the Hudson, to the skyscrapers of downtown and midtown Manhattan.

  “It’s gorgeous at night,” Cedric said, coming up behind her. She stiffened in shock at his undetected approach. “Last year, when the Sabers made it to the playoffs, the lights on the Empire State building were teal and white. I’d just sit here and stare at it for hours while running plays over and over in my head.”

  “This place really is incredible,” Payton said, her eyes making another trip around the tastefully decorated space. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected—mirrors on the ceiling, a stripper pole—but never such understated elegance.

  “I like it,” Cedric shrugged. “Pretty decent living for a kid from South Philly.” His brow lifted in a wry arch. “It’s up to you to make sure I keep it.”

  “You’ll have to do your part,” Payton said.

  “I will,” he stated with a seriousness Payton had yet to see in him up until this point. “It’s been an eye-opening couple of weeks. I didn’t think I’d be in this position after only four years in the league, but this is real. I’m putting a lot of faith in you, Payton. You’ve got to get me a new contract with the Sabers.”

  “I’m putting just as much faith in you. If I can’t get you that contract, my career is over too. We’re on the same team here, Cedric. We’re going to need to work together. That’s why when I lay out this plan I need your buy-in.”

  “Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s get started. Do we want to eat first?”

  “We’ve got a lot to cover. I say we multitask.”

  They moved to the dining area that was tucked into the corner of the den. Cedric picked up a remote control the size of a hardback novel and a flat-screen television that was no fewer than seventy-two-inches came to life. Cedric pressed a couple more buttons and commentators announced the start of the game Payton had just watched at Sabers Stadium between New York and Detroit.

  “You won’t have to watch the entire game,” Cedric said. “I’ll fast forward through the plays when Detroit is on offense.”

  “Except when their running back had that sixty-eight-yard run,” Payton said, watching as the punter kicked the ball. “That spin move he made to get away from his defender was awesome. You should add it to your arsenal.”

  When Cedric didn’t respond for several moments, she looked up to find him watching her with a curious smile.

  “What?” Payton asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m just not used to a woman who knows football so well. On the rare occasion I can get one to watch a game, I usually have to spend all my time explaining what’s happening on the field. You are my kind of woman, Payton Mosely.”

  His words sent a tremor of desire cascading across her skin. The thought of being his kind of woman was all too enticing.

  “So, are we going to work and eat?” she asked in an effort to remind herself that she was here in a professional capacity.

  That smile at the edge of Cedric’s mouth tipped up even more, but he didn’t say another word, only nodded. Soon, the glass-topped table was covered with cartons of steaming noodles, beef and vegetables, sweet and sour chicken, spring rolls and stir-fried rice.

  “This is enough food to feed a football team,” Payton remarked.

  “Or one very hungry football player,” Cedric said, heaping rice onto his plate.

  Payton passed on the wine he’d offered, sipping from a can of soda and loving every minute of it. Cedric didn’t have diet and Payton had forgotten just how good a regular soda tasted.

  “Okay,” she said, unzipping the leather binder she’d brought in with her. “I took a two-way approach when coming up with this plan, for both on and off the field.”

  “I’ve got the on-the-field stuff covered.”

  “As far as executing plays,” Payton said. “But you’ve got to work on your behavior on the field. Incidents like the one in Baltimore cannot happen again.”

  “That wasn’t my fault,” Cedric said. “One of the fans threw a bottle at me.”

  “Because you taunted them. You can’t do that. Make your touchdown, celebrate with your teammates, then go back to the sideline. Lea
ve the fans out of it, especially at hostile stadiums like Baltimore.”

  Slouched back in his seat, he twirled lo mein noodles around his fork. He glanced up at her. “I know it was stupid. I let my emotions get the better of me. I’ve been trying to work on that.”

  Sympathetic to the vulnerability she heard in his contrite tone, Payton nearly reached for his hand, but caught herself at the last minute and picked up a packet of soy sauce instead. His tone was likely to change with what she had to say next. Payton took a deep breath. This was the part she hadn’t been looking forward to.

  “As far as off the field, a whole lot will have to change.”

  “Like what? Wait.” He held a hand up and raised the volume on the television. “Did you see how I got away from that middle linebacker? That was sweet.”

  “Yeah, but it would have been sweeter if you had cut to the right.” She pointed at the TV with her chopsticks. “Look at the hole your offensive line made for you. The tackler wouldn’t have taken you down if you’d run to the other side.”

  He used the remote to jump back a couple of frames and they watched the play again. “I’ll be damned. Why didn’t I see that?”

  “Running backs tend to favor a certain side of the field,” Payton said with a shrug. “Just remember to trust your offensive line. Those guys are there to protect you.”

  He shot her a smile. “You talk like a coach.”

  She couldn’t help her own smile. “Thanks,” she answered. “That’s what I really wanted to do.”

  His brows peaked. “Coach?”

  She nodded. “Just like my dad.”

  “He must be some kind of coach.” Cedric laughed.

  “He was,” she answered. Payton pulled in a deep breath and held tears back by sheer will. “He died a little over a year ago. Heart attack, right in the middle of spring football practice.”

  Cedric sobered. “I’m sorry.”

  “If you’re going to go, might as well go doing what you love, right?” she said, overly bright. She motioned toward the flat screen. “This was pretty hard to watch.”

  She and Cedric both winced as the Sabers quarterback threw his first of three interceptions.

  “Let’s get back to work,” she said, turning back to her Chinese, even though her appetite had exited stage left at the thought of her dad.

  “Okay.” Cedric bit into a spring roll, his appetite obviously still hard at work. “Off the field. What do you have in mind to turn me into the Dudley Do-Right of the league?”

  Payton cut her eyes at him but didn’t give him grief over his mocking. She shoved her plate to the side and opened the binder she’d brought in. “First things first,” she stated. “Your entourage? They have to go.”

  “My what?”

  “Your band of merry men who always seem to be around when there’s trouble. Sound familiar?”

  “I don’t have an entourage. A few of the guys from my old neighborhood in Philly make the trip out here for a couple of games a season.”

  “Cedric, think back over the last four years. And if you can’t remember that far, I’ve got proof here in black-and-white.” She held up a copy of just one of several news stories she’d found online about Cedric’s off-the-field shenanigans. “Every time there’s been trouble, these guys have been there. They’re not helping your image.”

  “But those guys are me,” he insisted with an indignant frown. “I can’t sell out just because I’m making a little money.”

  “Give me a break,” Payton said with a disgusted snort. “I’m so tired of you professional athletes trying to cling to the same lifestyle you worked like crazy to leave behind. Look around you, Cedric. How many of your friends from back home live like this?”

  Payton tried to infuse as much understanding in her voice as possible. “I know it seems as if you’re turning your back on your past, but if your past is getting you into trouble, then it’s time to let it go. They’re no good for you, Cedric.”

  Instead of putting up the fight Payton had anticipated, he nodded and said, “I know. I’ve been feeling that way ever since they let me take the fall for the vandalism incident at that club on forty-fifth a few months ago. Mike and Damian were the ones who sprayed the place down with the fire extinguishers. I was on the other side of the club when it happened.”

  Cedric scrubbed a hand over his close-cut hair and let out a long sigh.

  “I don’t go searching for trouble,” he continued. “I’m not trying to make excuses here, okay? I know I’m not a Boy Scout.” He glanced at her with another one of those grins and winked. “At least not yet. But I’m not the bad boy the media has made me out to be, either. I’ve done some stupid things but they haven’t all been my fault. It just seems as if the finger gets pointed at me whenever I’m around.”

  Payton shrugged. “You’re an easy target.”

  His lips had thinned into a rigid line. Staring straight ahead, he said, “I’m tired of being the fall guy.” He glanced over at her. “I guess it’s time I start considering the consequences before I act, huh?”

  “Yes,” she said, relief washing over her at his willingness to be accountable for his behavior. “I know dropping your friends seems as if you’re selling out—”

  “It’s not selling out.” Cedric shook his head. “It’s moving on.”

  Payton couldn’t contain her smile. “And I’ve got the perfect new gang for you to hang out with,” she said, sliding a homemade flyer from her binder.

  “The Linden Avenue Recreation Center?” he asked with a hint of incredulousness that caused Payton to grit her teeth.

  “This one is a no-brainer. Everyone knows the quickest way to clean up a bad image is to start giving back to the community. I want you to hold some type of football thing at this rec center. You could get some of the other Sabers players to join in, and the mascot. Kids love mascots.”

  His eyes roamed over the flyer. “I don’t know about this. It seems like a big time commitment.”

  Payton tried to keep the exasperation from her voice. “I’m not asking for you to recreate the Sabers off-season training camp, Cedric. I was thinking along the lines of a one-day event—a mini-football camp.”

  He mulled over the flyer for a few moments more, his expression hesitant. Tossing the flyer on the table, he said, “I’ll consider the camp. I guess it wouldn’t be that much of a hassle.” He took a sip of his wine. “What else is on your list?”

  “Second thing, endorsements.”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Cedric said. “Gus and I knocked heads when it came to endorsements. He never thought the time was right. Said I needed to wait until my breakout year.”

  “That’s one strategy,” Payton agreed. “But we don’t have the luxury of waiting for your breakout year. This is it. We need to get you a deal.”

  “I want Reliant.”

  “You lost Reliant.”

  “I want them back.”

  “Cedric—”

  “I’m willing to fight to get them back,” he said.

  “It isn’t as easy as you think.”

  “I know that,” he declared. “Gus wouldn’t discuss endorsements. I’m the one who went after Reliant.”

  “You’re also the one who lost them.” He started to speak but Payton stopped him. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make promises.”

  “Fine,” Cedric relented. “So, we have the entourage, endorsements and giving back to the neighborhood. What else makes a model citizen in the NFL?”

  Payton pointed to the television where Cedric was scrambling for what had turned into a forty-yard gain before being brought down at the Sabers five-yard line. On the next play, he’d run it in for a touchdown.

  “You just continue to do that, Mr. Reeves, and we’re in business.”

  Chapter 4

  “Is this all you’ve got, Stokes? I could have stayed home for this,” Cedric said as he smacked another domino on the table.

  “I called the Orego
n game yesterday. My brain’s still functioning on Pacific time,” was Theo Stokes’s excuse.

  “Looks as if you left your game back on the West Coast along with your brain,” Torrian muttered as he sipped from a longneck beer bottle.

  Theo flipped off his old teammate, garnering chuckles from the table’s other two occupants.

  Cedric felt a certain comfort as he took in the guys seated around the gaming table in Torrian’s basement. Even though two of them were no longer playing ball—Theo by choice and Torrian by necessity—whenever possible they still got together for dominoes, food and beer after Sabers home games.

  Cedric was the motivation behind the ritual. After he’d pissed off the Sabers offensive line during his rookie season by suggesting they were playing for the opposing team, hanging out at the team’s official postgame spot had become hazardous to his health. To keep Cedric out of trouble, Torrian had offered his home as an alternative.

  Even though things had improved between Cedric and the rest of the team after that first season, no one wanted to give up the domino game. It had become somewhat of a postgame ritual.

  The basement of Torrian’s Manhattan brownstone was the ultimate Man Cave, equipped with a card table, pool table, several full-size arcade games and a gigantic flat-screen television. The rest of the Sabers could have their sports bar; this space, along with the guys who occupied it, was all Cedric needed.

  Jared Dawson had joined them because he claimed he disliked crowds. Cedric had a feeling it was due to the under-the-table betting that went on at the bar. Jared’s gambling issues were well-known around the Sabers locker room. If he were caught in anything that even seemed like gambling, Jared could kiss his NFL career goodbye.

  “What’s this?” Theo asked, picking up an oblong shaped hors d’oeuvre wrapped in bacon. Cedric had no idea what they were either, but those babies were off the chain. He’d eaten four already.