Preseason Love

by Ahyiana Angel

  I heard a noise coming from the kitchen and I looked at Byron. “Is someone else here?” I whispered.

  “Yeah. My chef.”

  “Chef?”

  “Yes, chef. He’s making us lunch. It should be ready soon. I called ahead.”

  Byron kissed me on the shoulder and started walking toward what I could only guess was the master bedroom. “Make yourself at home and relax, love.”

  I followed his lead and put my things down in his room. While I got myself situated, he left me alone to marvel at the room and its splendor.

  Wow, now that’s one hell of a bed.

  The gigantic bed in the center was clearly the focal point of the bedroom. It had to have been custom-made.

  “Babe, lunch is ready!” Byron called out from the distance.

  “Coming!”

  We sat down to a gourmet lunch complete with hand-rolled sushi as a starter. I felt like I was on an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.

  “I made dinner reservations at a restaurant that I’m sure you’ll love.”

  “Is this one of your regular spots?” I asked.

  “Not regular. I like to go when I’m in the company of someone special.”

  “Don’t try to make me blush.” I smiled.

  After lunch, we explored every inch of his bed. I crossed my fingers that the chef made a quick exit and didn’t hear my screams of passion. Although, the curtains were wide open—if the chef didn’t hear me, surely the neighbors could see me, but I didn’t care.

  Movies watched us and we watched them on and off for the rest of the afternoon. Our dinner reservation was for eight o’clock, so we began getting ready about an hour prior—starting off with a dual steamy shower. Byron couldn’t keep his hands from probing my body and that slowed down our progress. My sweet lover popped a bottle of Armand de Brignac champagne to start the night off right while we dressed.

  I already knew that my new burgundy mini dress fit like a glove, so I snapped the tags and laid it out on the bed while I slathered cocoa butter on from head to toe. Byron, to no surprise, walked out of his dressing area the size of a studio apartment and was fitted in Dolce & Gabbana looking like he was about to walk a red carpet. The suit fit him well. He looked as sexy as the first day that we met.

  “Somebody is looking pretty dapper.”

  Byron dusted off the shoulders of his jacket. “Thanks, love. I put on a lil’ somethin’-somethin’.”

  “You are a mess!” I said with a giggle.

  “But you like it,” he said, as he walked over, grabbing my naked body and pulling me to him for a soft kiss.

  I slipped into my dress and took the last sip of my “Ace of Spades” before we headed downstairs hand-in-hand to the waiting chauffeured car. Byron thought it better to call up his driver since we had already been drinking. He didn’t want any trouble with the law or The League. When behind the wheel, intoxicated athletes were like a magnet for police.

  The driver pulled up to a luxurious steakhouse at the east end of the West Loop. He held the door open as we exited the SUV. Byron offered me his hand. I stepped out in my gold embellished stilettos with a six-inch heel.

  The host showed us to our table immediately. The dining area was filled with patrons. From my peripheral view, I noticed a few people take a second glance as we passed their tables.

  “So, is this your first time?”

  I looked at Byron with confusion written all over my face. “Excuse me? First time for what?”

  I knew that he couldn’t be talking about my first time at a restaurant, or a high-end restaurant, or a steakhouse, or on a date, or anything else of that nature so I needed him to tell me what the hell he was talking about. His vague question came off a tad strange.

  “First time dating someone like me?” Byron replied, very matter-of-fact.

  I wasn’t expecting this. Now I felt a bit silly for my initial thoughts.

  “Interesting question,” I noted. “Yes…this is my first time.”

  “So…”

  Byron was mid-sentence when I spotted a well-dressed black woman in what looked to be her mid-twenties entering the dining area. She entered alone, which I found odd. This restaurant was not the type of establishment where you readily dined alone.

  Where is her date? Maybe he’s not far behind. Sometimes I’m too nosey for my own good.

  Byron was still talking, but he couldn’t keep my attention. The well-dressed woman was headed directly toward our table and there was no mistaking her eyes, which were fixated on Byron. He seemed oblivious.

  Fuck me! This has to be a joke! Is this his fucking woman? I will not participate in an embarrassing hoodrat scene in this restaurant. Oh HELL, I forgot my mace in New York.

  This wasn’t my first time at the hoodrat, baby momma rodeo. I looked to the right of Byron as the woman walked up and stood next to him. His eyes rapidly shifted from mine as he looked over at her statuesque frame. I could tell that he knew her. I watched as he stood and greeted her. “Sava, I’m glad that you could make it, babe.”

  Babe! What kind of babe is this? Babe like Hollywood-schmoozing babe, or like “I sleep with you on a regular basis” babe, or like “I want to sleep with you on a regular basis” type babe?

  My face contorted into an obvious quizzical expression.

  “Scottie, this is Sava. She’s going to join us.”

  “Join us?”

  “Yes, join us. Don’t be rude, love.”

  This dude had me twisted. He had not seen rude. I was roughly two-point-five seconds away from overreacting in a major way, which would likely turn into a scene that this restaurant had never seen before.

  Byron shifted to the middle of the booth while Sava, dressed in a scarlet-red, plunging neckline dress, took her spot at our table. Byron attempted to spark up small talk and Sava ate right out of his hand. Her squeaky voice responded to his every comment. I sat silently. I was overwhelmed.

  “How do you two know each other?” I questioned.

  Byron placed his hand over Sava’s and she looked down. He turned to me and tried to use his free hand to grab my hand.

  Who the hell is this dude? Money Mike the pimp?

  “Scottie, don’t…” Byron tilted his head and stared into my eyes as he calmly said, “Go with the flow.”

  I got up abruptly from the table, grabbed my bag and excused myself. I needed two seconds alone to try to process this new reality that I was currently being tricked into. I walked outside of the dining area. “Where is the restroom?” I asked the host.

  “First door on the left.”

  As I rushed down the hallway, I held back tears of anger, which burned my eyelids and begged to be released.

  How did I get myself caught up in this mess?! How could I have been so stupid and naive?

  I walked into the last stall and sat down on the pristine white toilet seat. My head fell into my hands and my palms were wet with tears.

  “Scottie?” I heard a squeaky voice call out.

  No this broad did not follow me into the fucking restroom!

  “Get the fuck out and leave me alone!” I yelled.

  “But Byron told me to come and check on you.”

  “Fuck you and fuck Byron, you sick and twisted freaks!” I screamed. “You can tell him to find another fool.”

  I heard the doorknob click. I realized that I was truly an even bigger fool than I knew for sitting in the restroom crying like a baby. It was time to get the hell out of there.

  I opened the bathroom stall and turned toward the door to leave, but to my shock Byron was blocking the door. My legs froze as a rush of fear came over me. I hadn’t heard him come in. This shit was getting crazier by the moment.

  “What the hell are you doing in here, you fucking sicko?” I played off my fear and projected my voice as loudly as I could.

  “Lower your voice,” Byron demanded as he walked toward me.

  With my right index finger extended in his direction and rage in
my eyes, I walked right back at him. “Get the fuck out of this damn bathroom! Now! Who the hell do you think you are? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Calm down and stop overreacting. Now, me and my girlfriend are going to sit down and finish our dinner and I suggest that you join us.”

  Byron backed up against the door as a woman on the other side pushed the sturdy slab of wood into his back and attempted to walk in. “Hello? What’s going on in there?”

  “Don’t make this worse than it already looks,” I said to Byron as I took my opportunity and pushed past him to walk out of the restroom door.

  I bolted out of the restaurant like a woman fleeing for her life. My heels clicked across the pavement as fast as they could move. I scurried down the street, but I didn’t get the feeling that Byron was behind me. I flagged down a cab and looked over my shoulder as I got in.

  “Can you take me to…to…it’s a huge condo building by the water. I’m sorry…I’m…”

  “Miss, I can’t understand where you want to go,” the little shriveled up old man said in a raspy, two-packs-a-day type of voice.

  “I know…I know…just a second.”

  Think, Scottie! How the hell do you not know where you’re staying? Pull it together.

  “I think it’s on Lake Shore Drive.” My mind was scrambled. My vision was cloudy and I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach.

  “You know what? Can you take me to O’Hare airport?”

  Chapter 21

  Reality Slap

  Monday was a welcome thrust back into the reality that I was familiar with. I couldn’t sit down at my desk and get situated before the phone rang. Not bothering to look at the caller ID, I answered.

  “Scottie speaking.”

  “Hi, Scottie, this is Caroline Stinger from HR. Do you have a moment to stop by my office?”

  “Sure, when?” I asked.

  “Now would be fine. Thanks, see you soon.”

  I headed to the elevator unsure of what the meeting with HR could be about. My gut told me that something was up though. The elevator chimed. As the doors opened, Britney the bitch walked out.

  “Good morning, Scottie!” she said.

  I felt like I was being Punked, but I offered a dry, “Hey.”

  I could hear her laughing in the distance. Shaking my head, I pressed the elevator button to close the door and proceeded to HR.

  • • •

  I was a spaced-out wreck after my meeting with HR. I tried to maintain a composed exterior, but it was challenging. Around midday my desk line rang and I answered, although it was an unidentified number. “Scottie speaking.”

  “Scottie, stop acting childish!”

  It was Byron. I slammed down the phone. I had already been called into a meeting with HR and legal first thing in the morning on account of my stupidity for messing with his trifling ass. They wouldn’t tell me who tipped them off, but I suspected Britney the bitch.

  “Hey, girl,” Lydia said, interrupting my thoughts as she sauntered up to my desk with a chipper smile. “How was your weekend?”

  “It was cool…low-key,” I lied, fighting every temptation to disclose the sheer trickery that I had been a party to.

  My phone rang again. I looked at the caller ID. “I have to take this.”

  “All right, I’ll holler. Let’s catch up and do happy hour after work if you’re free.”

  “Sounds good,” I responded to Lydia’s back as she walked away.

  “Hello?”

  “Scottie, can you meet me in twelve B?” Joel asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Five minutes ago, Dean called an impromptu meeting. Something about a star player and his concerns about his image.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  The last time Dean called an impromptu meeting, we were thrown into a last-minute situation which resulted in my meeting Byron. I wasn’t sure that I was ready for another impromptu Dean meeting.

  As I approached the conference room, I noticed that the door was closed. I had no clue what I was walking into, but I figured that they had started without me. I gave a slight double tap on the door before twisting the handle.

  “Scottie, come on in,” Dean said, with so much enthusiasm in her voice that it instantly made me uncomfortable. “I was just introducing Byron Stalling to the group.”

  Maybe I should slap myself. This has to be a bad dream. She couldn’t be introducing me to the slimy, sex orgy-having motherfucker that I just left in a Chicago restaurant with his little freak nasty chick one day ago! No, this cannot be happening!

  Shit just got real.

  I nervously turned to my left, in the direction that Dean motioned toward. I tried to internally prepare myself for what I was about to see. Get my emotions in check to face a recent former lover who was now toying with my career. A lump the size of a boulder constricted the vocal cords in my throat and my voice was barely recognizable as I tried to drag out the words, “Hello, Byron.”

  At that moment, I realized that I had been playing a game that I was not prepared to win. If I could have turned and made a lightning speed exit to the nearest door, I would have done so. I felt like the room was closing in on me and my hand trembled with fear and anger when I was forced to extend it and shake the hand of the man that I now upgraded to the level of dangerous and insane.

  “Hello Scottie, pleasure to see you again,” Byron said, his raspy voice reminding me of Darth Vader. “We have met before, correct?”

  “Uh-um, yes…I think so.”

  “Scottie?” Dean called my name.

  “Yes.” I snapped back into reality. This was happening and now I had to deal with it.

  “Are you all right?” Dean questioned with judgmental eyes.

  “I’m…I’m…fine. Thank you.”

  “Great. I wanted the team to meet Byron as he has come to us with some great projects that he will be working on in the future, and you all may be called in to assist at some point.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Thanks for dropping in,” Dean said.

  “It was my pleasure,” I replied with a smile. I managed to make my face tell the same lie as my words.

  The conference room door closed and my feet carried me as fast as they could to the women’s restroom down the hall.

  Was this a set-up?

  I pressed my back up against the cold gray steel of the bathroom stall grasping for air. Tears of stress and fear filled my eyes. That was one of the toughest acting roles in the made-for-TV drama that was my life. I had to sit there in Byron’s face—in front of my department head—and act like I vaguely remembered him knowing that we had been sleeping together. I wanted to slap the taste out of his crazy-ass mouth for coming to my office and putting me in such a compromising position.

  Sitting at my desk, I couldn’t stop staring at the digital numbers counting down the seconds to 6 o’clock. It was like a buzzer. As soon as the clock struck six, I dashed out the door on a mission. Predictable Byron was probably staying at his usual hotel under the same alias, so that was my destination.

  The front desk clerk called up to his room and before I knew it, I was on the elevator. I rehearsed what I would say all day leading up to this point, but now my thoughts were blank. I didn’t have a script so I would let my anger be my guide.

  The door opened as I raised my hand to knock. Before he could part his smug lips to let a peep come out, I went in.

  “What kind of deranged idiot are you?”

  He opened his mouth as if to respond.

  “No, you let me finish. You think the world revolves around your arrogant ass, but not this chick’s world. And furthermore, I thought I made it pretty clear that I’m done with you. D-O-N-E. You keep calling my job, then you show up in a meeting with my boss like a crazy-ass stalker. What the fuck is up with that?”

  I held my hand up to interrupt his attempt to speak again and he looked shocked.

  “Contrary to popular belief,
you can’t buy everything that you want. The only way that I better ever see your face again is if it’s on TV. And if I do, I’m turning that shit off.”

  I spun on my heels to walk away, but I could feel Byron’s eyes piercing my back. Before I could put enough distance between us, his beastly hand yanked my left shoulder causing me to stumble backward and almost hit the ground.

  “You crazy motherfucker!” I hollered out as I tried to get up, hoping that someone would hear my yelling before this scene got any worse.

  “No, you’re crazy for trying to play me and leave me!” Byron yelled.

  I could feel the spit from his rage raining down on my face. I had to think quickly.

  I remained crouched low as a protection stance. When I felt him hovering over my back, I gripped my purse handle until my nails dug deeply into the leather and I swung my arm in the air with all of my might aiming straight for his head. When I heard the thump, I knew that it was time to run. I couldn’t wait around for a reaction. I was happy that the bottle of vino that I’d picked up around the corner from the office had come in handy. I took off running as fast as I could.

  I heard a plea in the distance. “Scot…Scottie, wait…I have your things…your suitcase!”

  He was pitiful in his one last, high-pitched cry for attention. “Do you want it?” was the last thing I heard him call out as I fled.

  I rounded the corner toward the elevator like a track star and let my silence do the talking. I pounded on the buttons as hard and as fast as I could. It didn’t matter which elevator came first, up or down. I was shaking and my adrenaline was rushing. I needed to get off his floor.

  Chapter 22

  Try Me

  I was wallowing in the sorrow of my horrible choices in men and my phone started vibrating like crazy. It was Kari. “Hey, Kari! I’m glad you called. Before you say anything…I want to admit that I’ve been acting silly and careless lately, but I miss you. I miss having you as my constant, my person, and my friend.”