Preseason Love

by Ahyiana Angel

  In that moment, I decided that I would respond to Byron. I wasn’t going to overthink it. I would write what came to my mind and let it flow. I logged in to my Gmail, found the forwarded email from my work address, and hit “reply.” I switched out the receiving field and began to compose my message.

  I followed his lead and responded in a similar fashion—no salutation. I went in.

  “Clearly you are accustomed to getting your way and doing whatever it takes to ensure that things work out in your favor. I won’t front. I’m flattered and I like the shoes, but you can stop sending things to my office. I’m not quite sure what you think you want from me. Do you even know?”

  Short and simple, then I hit “send.” I purposely hit “send” quickly so that I could not rethink my response and overanalyze my words. I was straightforward, and I told him I wanted to know what his angle was. Essentially, why me?

  I knew that he wouldn’t respond in the next five minutes, so before I could play that game with myself where I continuously refreshed the inbox page, I logged off. Next up was Kari. I was still confused as to why he’d showed his ass the other night, but now I was ready for an explanation so I called him. He answered damn near on the first ring as if he had been waiting by the phone.

  “Hi—Hello? Scottie?”

  “Yup, it’s me.”

  “I’m so glad that you finally called me back.”

  “Is that right?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Yes. I was a complete asshole to you the other night and…I…I apologize.”

  “That’s for sure.

  “It was misdirected anger. I’m sorry.”

  “Look, why don’t you start from the beginning? I’ll be honest, I was super pissed at you, but now that I’ve had a chance to calm down, I want to hear exactly what the hell was going on.”

  “I can respect that,” Kari said in his mellow, nonconfrontational voice. “I had a bad day and I was in a foul mood, then I realized that I had not heard from you all day. My thoughts were going crazy and getting the best of me. I started thinking that most of the time, I’m the one that always calls you first. There I was having a bad day and my girl had not even called to check on me—not once throughout the day. I thought that you were being selfish. But now I realize that it wasn’t really about you. I was already pissed, but since I couldn’t go off on my client, I tried to take it out on you and that wasn’t fair. I know it wasn’t.”

  “You damn right it wasn’t fair!” I interjected, feeling a rise in my blood pressure. “I guess you totally forgot that I had a big event at the office that day. I’m sorry that I wasn’t around to cater to you and kiss your ass, but I was busy working too.”

  “No! That’s not what I was saying. Don’t blow this out of proportion any more than you already have.”

  “Oh! So now it’s on me!”

  “No, no, no…I apologize for initially even coming at you the way that I did the other day. I fully admit that I was in the wrong. I don’t want to keep fighting with you. Can you please accept my apology and let’s move on?”

  “You know what…I’ve had some time to think over the few days that we were apart…and…I’m not sure about us anymore. I think that we should take a break. I liked feeling like I was completely and totally on my own. Since the beginning of my living in New York, I’ve been with you. I need to try this on my own now. I really do care about you and I don’t want to lose you as a friend…but I need some space.”

  “Damn, all of that over a minor misunderstanding…really, Scottie?” I could hear the stress in Kari’s voice. “I mean do you even care about us? Do you love me like I love you?”

  “That misunderstanding made me realize how much I care about me…and right now I think we need to chill for a little while and see where our relationship will go from there.”

  “You’re a cold piece of work. You know that?”

  The phone line was silent. I had no response since that wasn’t the first time I’d heard that accusation, but I wasn’t about to confirm his statement.

  Kari continued, “The way that you were acting…I thought that you were never going to talk to me again. But then I figured that I was being dramatic. Now you tell me you want a break?”

  “I’m not saying that I want you out of my life. I need to fall back from the intensity of the relationship for a bit.”

  “Is there someone else? Tell me if that’s what it is. Don’t try to play me for a fool, Scottie.”

  That wasn’t what I expected him to say.

  My voice was a little squeaky as I quickly responded, “No, don’t even go there.”

  “If you say so.” Kari responded with a twinge less bass in his voice. “Look, I’ll play by your rules, so you tell me how you want this thing to go. But for now, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Perfect.”

  I heard a familiar click. I sort of felt like he hung up on me again, but this time it was warranted, and honestly, there was nothing left to say.

  Chapter 18

  Hip-Hop Heart

  I heard rumors that Kari had been hitting the streets heavy. I even caught wind of him being spotted with a blondie. That was totally out of character for him, but I wasn’t his woman anymore so I had no right to be concerned. We had only spoken once since the break and I didn’t ask him any questions in an effort to respect his feelings. I wanted him to take time to do his thing because I had definitely planned on doing mine.

  Speaking of doing me, Byron didn’t email back right away; it took him two long agonizing days to respond. I checked that email account religiously wondering what could be taking him so long. When he finally responded, I was relieved. I called my Jolie to give her the play-by-play. I had already told her that Kari and I were taking a break. She had no reservations about telling me how big of a mistake she thought that I was making. Kari was such an ideal guy in her eyes.

  “Well, he finally responded,” I’d said to my Jolie.

  “And?”

  “He’s coming to the city for a commercial shoot and he asked if he could take me out.”

  “So is this going to be like a date?”

  “I’m not even trying to entertain all that at this point. It’ll be our first time hanging out so we’ll see how it goes.”

  “As I said before, I trust that you know what you’re doing.”

  “I do…I do. All right, I’ll talk to you later!”

  • • •

  I couldn’t find an outfit to wear to work. It was crucial that I pick the right look since I was meeting up with Byron after work. The plan was to meet him at his hotel around seven o’clock, which meant that I wouldn’t have time to run back home and change. My excitement made it impossible to concentrate and come up with a fly-ass outfit.

  That night, after sifting through everything that I owned and trying on countless outfit combinations, I finally settled on the old faithful: all black everything. Even though I had no clue where the night would take us, it was impossible to go wrong in all black.

  The following day I could barely look my coworkers in the eyes. I felt like they would be able to read my secret thoughts. I stayed glued to my desk as much as possible. A few people made comments about how cute I looked, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary on a typical workday.

  As six o’clock finally crept around, I ducked into the women’s restroom to freshen up.

  Teeth crisp and clean? Check.

  Fresh coat of mascara? Check.

  Lipstick? Check.

  Bronzer and blush? Check.

  Smell goods? Check.

  I covered all of the majors. Now I was ready to embark on my adventure.

  Since I was rocking my sexy heels, I thought it best that I pass on the train option and simply hop in a cab. Byron’s hotel wasn’t far from my office, but a girl could not get her mean strut on in the city streets, in turn, messing up the taps on her thousand dollar heels. No ma’am.

  The cab driver stopped directly in front of the hotel lobby en
trance. I wasn’t ready. I could see the doorman standing outside of the cab waiting to greet me. This was all too real and now the fear was starting to kick in.

  I extended my hand with the money in it toward the cab driver, and I noticed that my entire arm was shaky. I almost stepped on the doorman’s foot as he was trying to open the door for me. I was a paranoid wreck. I was such a mess that I quickly decided one of two things would happen: either I would pull it together and fake it like I was that bad chick, or I would turn my ass around immediately and head to the Port Authority and catch a bus back to Jersey. I stood in the lobby for two seconds to decide. The next thing I knew, a burst of confidence came from some mysterious place in my body and I was energized. I strutted through the lobby with a steady stride and my heels click-clacked as I approached the front desk.

  “Hello, I’m here to see William Reid,” I said to the tall brunette with piercing, blue eyes at the post behind the front desk.

  “Sure, one moment,” she replied with a strong accent, possibly Russian.

  “Mr. Reid will be down to greet you shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  I walked over to the lounge area to take a seat. I figured I should save all of the feet time that I had left—unless I planned on having him carry me at some point. It felt odd asking for a fictitious name at the front desk, but I did as instructed. I knew the deal. He was a well-known athlete. Lucky for me, he wasn’t the type that the paparazzi followed around regularly.

  “Hey, sexy.”

  My stomach dropped like I was going down the first major dip on the Goliath roller coaster at Six Flags Magic Mountain. I recognized the voice, so I stood and turned around to greet Byron. He looked good. Actually, damn good. Oh the wonders of what a little money and excellent grooming could do for a man.

  I smiled. “Hi, Byron.”

  He leaned down to embrace me and the whiff of his cologne was mesmerizing. I tried to play it cool, though.

  “Ready?” Byron asked.

  “Sure,” I quickly responded.

  We headed outside to the awaiting car service. The doorman swiftly opened the door to the SUV and as I got in, he winked at me. I smiled back. I imagined that he was telling me “Get it, girl,” since I knew that the little old man with the white hair was not trying to be fresh. Once we were settled in the car, Byron put his hand on my knee and asked if I was hungry. I wasn’t starving, but I knew that I could eat a little something so I said yes.

  “My man, take us to the Waverly Inn, please.”

  Oh hell no. I looked at Byron and he was totally clueless.

  “Byron,” I said in a soft tone, “We can’t go there.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not sure if you are aware of this, but since I work for The League…”

  In an instant, it became clear. “My fault, I wasn’t thinking. I don’t want to put you in an awkward or compromising situation.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Give me a second. Where else can we go?”

  “How about The Stanton Social on the Lower East Side? Have you been there before?” I asked. The paparazzi would not be staked out there.

  “No, let’s do it.”

  We arrived at the restaurant with no reservation and no entourage, but the manager seemed to be quick on his toes. He politely interrupted the hostess and informed us that he would show us to our table. Maybe it was Byron’s height or his familiar face. Either way, the special treatment we received was something I could get used to. The manager led us upstairs to a cozy booth just big enough for Byron to squeeze into.

  “What type of food does this place have?”

  “They serve a variety of tapas dishes. The food is really good. If you like seafood, I would recommend the red-snapper tacos.”

  “So you brought a man of my size to a place that serves small plates?” Byron said.

  I laughed. I hadn’t even thought of it that way. He was a good sport about it, though.

  “I guess I’ll have to order ten of everything.”

  “Okay, now you’re being excessive.”

  “I like being excessive sometimes,” he said with a smirk. “I thought you figured that out already.”

  Staying true to form, when he ordered, Byron instructed the waitress to bring us four of everything off of the food menu. By the time she came over to offer us dessert, we had a table filled with half-eaten plates of food and had no room for dessert. Instead, we continued our conversation about our favorite albums.

  “I rock with artists that are consistent, like Jay-Z and T.I.,” I said. “They never disappoint.”

  Byron said as he looked around like he was scanning the room for someone, “I feel you.”

  “Are you all right? Expecting someone?” I questioned.

  “No, not at all,” he said with a stern confidence. “So, how do you feel about Mary J. Blige?”

  “Love her. She’s like a big sister in my head. I can remember dressing like her and knowing the words to all of her songs when I was growing up.”

  Byron laughed.

  “Don’t laugh at me! You run this game about wanting to know more about me, I tell you, and then you laugh!”

  “I’m sorry, my bad. You’re right,” Byron said as he grabbed my hand. “How about this? Are you still down to keep the night going after we finish up here?”

  “That depends.”

  “Well, if you decline, then I’ll have to go see the Jay-Z and Mary J. concert solo.”

  He let the comment hang in the air as if he expected me to beg him like a little child who wanted a piece of candy. What he didn’t know was that I had already been to the show the other night with two of my friends. Of course I wanted to go again with him, though. Inside, I was geeked, but my response had to be cool and collected.

  “That would be absolutely no fun going alone, and since I’d hate to set you up for a miserable night…I guess I can accompany you.”

  “You’re feisty. I like it.”

  The driver was waiting outside of the restaurant as soon as we exited. We headed uptown riding along the Westside Highway listening to Jay to get us in the mood. I resisted every urge that I had to text Dev and tell her who I was with and where I was going. She knew nothing about Byron and now was not the time to let that cat out of the bag. So I sat back, bobbed my head to the beats and enjoyed what seemed like a fantasy ride.

  We pulled up to Madison Square Garden in the heart of mid-town Manhattan where gobs of people, cars, cabs, bikes, and buses were moving at a rapid pace. There I was on a secret date in one of the least discreet locations one could ever designate. This was one of the biggest hip-hop/R&B concerts to hit the Garden, so we knew that there would be paparazzi lurking around the VIP entrance. Byron told me to get out of the car first and he handed me my ticket. He said that he would have the driver circle the block before dropping him off and that he would meet me inside. As I went to grab the door handle, he called my name. I turned back to look at him. I blinked my long, black lashes and before I knew it, his lips were touching mine. It was one of the sweetest kisses ever.

  Byron found me once he made it inside. We grabbed drinks backstage before heading to our floor seats where the view of the stage was amazing. The show was about to start so the house lights had begun to dim. The Dream was the opening act and he was good, but I was ready for my girl Mary to hit the stage.

  “Are you okay?” Byron yelled into my right ear.

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, trying to keep it short and sweet since it was hard to hear.

  When Mrs. Mary J. finally stepped on the stage, she looked as fierce as ever. All black everything like me. She had on her fly, trademark, thigh-high boots, hair was styled in a blonde bob, and she started hitting her signature Mary moves.

  Jay and Mary on the stage together felt right. Byron and I both sang and rapped along like two teenagers at a B2K concert. I liked the fact that he did not zone out on me. He was into the music yet completely aware of the fact that I was
by his side. I didn’t want the show to end. I was having so much fun.

  Before the finale song concluded, we made our way toward the backstage area. I wasn’t used to this quasi-celebrity life, so I followed Byron’s lead.

  “I need to stop at the ladies room.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait right here,” Byron said.

  I left Byron standing in the hallway, which was filled with tons of people. Everyone who was anyone was at that show. I tried to make my restroom stop as quick as possible, but apparently, I wasn’t fast enough. By the time I walked out, there was a big-booty broad hanging all over Byron like they were old friends. I stood there and observed for a second because I didn’t know what the situation was. For all I knew, she could have been his girl or his plaything. Either way, I did not have claims to him, and I could not afford to get mixed up in any drama.

  The girl was smiling and rubbing up and down Byron’s chest. He wasn’t making enough of an effort to stop her either. Byron must have felt me staring at him because he looked in my direction and abruptly pushed the chick out of his way so that he could head toward me. I was annoyed as hell. I knew this was a bad idea, but I had to test the waters.

  “Scottie, I can already tell what you’re thinking. It wasn’t what you think, though.”

  I screwed up my face. “Oh really,” I said. “It doesn’t matter anyway because you’re not my man.”

  “She was some whack-ass groupie.”

  “I knew this was a bad idea. Let’s go.”

  As we were walking through the hallway toward the exit, I noticed what looked like a familiar face in the distance. It took me a second to process where I knew her from, but when it clicked, there was no mistaking. It was Britney, the stank-attitude-having bitch from work.

  Fuck! I can’t let her see me with Byron. She’ll suspect something and she has a big-ass mouth.

  We were about to pass the entrance to the side of the stage and I had to think fast so I looked back at Byron and said, “Thanks. I gotta go.”