And This Too Shall Pass

by E. Lynn Harris

  “So, that’s who you practice racquetball with,” Sean smiled, making a mental note to ask about brother number four later.

  “Yeah, sometimes. Actually he plays at about the same level as yourself,” Zurich said.

  “So, he’s not that good,” Sean laughed.

  “You’re a nice size, Sean. Did you ever play any sports?” Zurich asked, changing the subject.

  “Yeah. I played a little baseball and ran track,” Sean said.

  “Where did you attend school?”

  Before Sean could answer, he had a brief flashback to his Stop and Stab encounter. He smiled to himself.

  “I attended the University of Georgia in Athens,” Sean said.

  “Were you any good at baseball?”

  “Average,” Sean replied. “What about your parents? Are your mother and father still living?”

  “My mother is dead,” Zurich said abruptly. He had hoped he had been clear about not wanting to talk about his family.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Let’s move on and talk more about your education,” Sean said as he realized to probe further might be hazardous to his health. Brother four would have to wait. “Did I read somewhere that you majored in Communications?” Sean asked.

  “Yes,” Zurich said proudly. “I want to be a sports announcer one day, and the opportunities for former players are usually in larger cities like New York and Chicago,” he said.

  Sean started to point out that Zurich was not alone in his desire to move to the announcer’s booth, but he decided not to burst his bubble. Besides, he thought, Zurich just might be able to make the transition. He was handsome and well spoken, but Sean thought he might have to grow his hair back so he would look less threatening to Middle America.

  “Is Gina gonna help you with becoming an announcer?”

  “I know it’s up to me, but Gina is well connected. But I don’t know if I want to live in Chicago forever. I really want to live in the South,” Zurich said.

  Sean looked through some of his notes and the press information Gina had given him. The night before, he had noticed that there was a year missing from Zurich’s resume.

  “Zurich, I see from the information I have that you stayed at SFT an extra year. Was that to complete your degree?”

  “No, not exactly. I was scheduled to graduate on time, because my father had stressed the importance of education. When I wasn’t drafted, I decided to stay an extra year and work on my skills. I thought about going into coaching, maybe on the high school level.”

  “When you weren’t drafted, did you think about giving up?”

  “No. I knew one day I would get my chance,” Zurich said confidently.

  “What about 1992?”

  “What about it?” Zurich asked with that terse tone.

  “Well, I see you were with the CFL in 1991 and in 1993. It doesn’t say anything about you being cut. Did you go back to SFT?”

  “No, I took a year off. I had some things I needed to work out,” Zurich said.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “About what?”

  “The year … shall we say, of reflection,” Sean said.

  “No,” Zurich said. He looked away from Sean, finishing off the glass of juice. Sean felt that Zurich was slipping away, but he was not quite ready to let him go, he still had a few more questions.

  “I didn’t see it in the information, Zurich, but are you married?”

  “No.”

  “So, you’re enjoying all the extra benefits of a single professional football player … huh?”

  “Not really. But my teammates are making up for it. I mean those guys can practice all day and play all night. But not me. Right now, I’m concentrating on being the best quarterback I can be. To win as many games as possible, with the help of my teammates, of course.”

  “Understood. Is there anything else you’d like to share with our readers? Maybe something reporters haven’t asked that you’ve wanted to comment on?”

  “No, I really haven’t had that many interviews, but I think with Gina that will probably change,” Zurich said.

  “I think you’re right. Thanks a lot for your time and if you’re ever in New York, please give me a call. I’d like to show you around,” Sean said, handing him a business card. Zurich took the card, studied it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that. And the same thing if you’re ever in my neck of the woods, maybe we can hook up.”

  Sean and Zurich both stood up and shook hands. Sean couldn’t help but notice the rounded curve of Zurich’s muscled arms as he pulled the sleeve of his red polo shirt in place. Zurich suddenly placed his finger to his lips and said, “Sean, I do have something I’d like your readers to know.”

  “What’s that, Zurich?”

  “That athletes are human. We make mistakes. We have the same type of problems other people have. Football, basketball, on the professional level is a job and people just get to see us do our job,” Zurich said. “They’re really not seeing the whole person,” he added.

  “Is there anything else?” Sean was a little mystified by Zurich’s sudden shifts in mood, from terse to tender.

  “No, just make sure you get in the human part. Make sure they know that.”

  “I will, Zurich. I’ll make sure they get it.”

  CHAPTER 11

  TAKE A LOOK

  The work week was over. Early Friday evening, Mia Miller scooped up her diamond stud earrings from the glass surface of her vanity and placed them in her ears. She pressed her lips together to make sure her lipstick was still in place and dabbed her wrists with Donna Karan perfume. The coolness felt good against her skin and calmed her. In less than an hour she would be meeting Zurich Robinson for dinner and an evening of light jazz. She also hoped that she would end the night in his arms. It didn’t matter if that meant her place or his. But just in case, she had bought new polished cotton purple and black sheets and lightly sprayed them with the same scent she was wearing. She had her paisley silk robe and a nice red silk camisole resting on the back of her bathroom door. Her dress was a sexy, black-and-white Barbara Bates silk dress with tiny spaghetti straps, from a boutique on Oak Street. Her hair was pulled back with a burgundy and black velvet ribbon, studded with tiny pearls. She had on a burgundy handmade silk brassiere with matching panties. The ribbon, panties, and bra were all gifts from Tanya, who had sent them from Paris. Mia slid her hands over her breasts to make sure they were secure in the special bra. She was proud of her breasts. For most of her life they had been small and elfin, ensuring her membership in the i.b.t.c. (itty bitty tittie club). But when she reached twenty-eight, suddenly, and without the help of a surgeon, her breasts developed, bountiful and full, among the best in Chicago television or in Chicago period, for that matter. She didn’t mind that she had also gained weight in a few other places, because with a trainer’s help she was able to shift the extra pounds to their proper place, rounding her once slim hips.

  Mia took one final twirl in the mirror before heading to the downtown restaurant where she was to meet Zurich. Right before she got ready to bounce downstairs, she lifted her dress and sprayed perfume on her panties, rubbing the scent on her inner thighs. After she finished spraying, Mia had a horrible thought—maybe she had overdone it. She didn’t want to smell like a whore with too much perfume. Mia started to jump in the shower, to remove the expensive perfume, but realized she didn’t have the time. Besides, she thought, the combination of perfume with her own scent had driven grown men crazy in the past. Why would tonight be any different?

  Mia had convinced Zurich to agree to an evening on the town, under the guise of talking about a position as a commentator on her station. She had talked with the general manager about Zurich and felt that when he met Zurich, he too would be impressed. There was no way he could not be bowled over by Zurich Robinson. Initially, Zurich had declined her invitation, saying he needed to rest for his upcoming game with Atlanta. But Mia had been persistent and had placed a call t
o Gina DeMarco. Zurich had finally called the night before and agreed to meet with her, after Gina told him she thought the meeting might help his future broadcasting career. Mia assumed that Zurich really did want to spend the evening with her and was just playing hard to get. If that was the way he wanted to play, then Mia Renee Miller was game. She was the queen of playing hard to get.

  While Mia searched for her car keys, the phone rang. Mia wasn’t going to pick up but thought it might be Zurich, calling to say he was running late.

  “Hello, this is Mia Miller,” she said, forgetting for a minute that she was at home and not the station.

  “Mia,” the familiar male voice said.

  “Yes.”

  “How you doing?”

  “I’m fine, Derrick. How did you get my number?” Mia said coldly. Mia thought, What does this fool want and how did he get my number?

  “I have my ways. Didn’t you get any of my messages?”

  “Yes.”

  “Looks like Chicago is treating you right,” Derrick said.

  “Yeah, right, I’m doing fine. Look, Derrick, I was on my way out the door,” Mia said.

  “Oh shit. I was hoping I could take you to dinner tonight. I made reservations at Mason’s,” Derrick said. The same restaurant where Mia was going to meet Zurich, she thought. Since it was too late to change, Mia prayed Derrick wouldn’t show up there and make a fool of himself.

  “So you’re in Chicago?” Mia asked. She could tell he had not lost his nerve.

  “Yes. I thought I said that in my messages,” Derrick said.

  “Oh, did you? Look, I’ve got to go. I hope you enjoy your dinner,” Mia said sarcastically, as she playfully stuck her finger in her mouth in a gagging motion.

  “What about later on tonight? Maybe we can meet somewhere for coffee,” Derrick said. “I could come by your place.”

  “Gotta go and I’m going to be out real late,” Mia said and hung up the phone slightly flustered.

  Mia had resumed the search for her keys when the phone rang again. Annoyed, she reached down and yanked the phone plug from the wall, but she could still hear the upstairs phone ringing. She marched upstairs to pull out the plug, but by the time she reached it the phone had stopped ringing. Mia took a deep breath and decided she was not going to let Derrick ruin her evening. But how had he gotten her number? Mia picked up the phone and dialed LaDonna’s number. After a couple of rings LaDonna answered the phone and before she could say hello, Mia said, “LaDonna, please tell me you did not give Derrick my phone number.”

  “Hold up, Miss Thing. Now you know better than that. I would never give out your number, especially to that no count Derrick,” LaDonna said. Has this bitch lost her mind? Here comes Miss Thing’s inappropriate behavior, she thought. But she would remain calm—somebody had to.

  “Then how did he get it?” Mia shouted.

  “Mia, now hold up. Get a grip on yourself. Derrick’s a businessman. He could have gotten your number from several places. You know how slick he is. Calm yourself down and let’s think about this,” LaDonna advised.

  “I know you’re right. I’m sorry. It just sort of shocked me when I picked up the phone and there he was on the other end of the line,” Mia said. She felt bad when her temper flared up like an overly sensitive car alarm and she directed that fury toward her friends and family.

  “I know, but Derrick is just country stupid. Just tell him you don’t want to be bothered. And if push comes to shove, then you can just get your phone number changed.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Mia said.

  “I thought you had a big date tonight with that football player. What’s his name?”

  “Zurich. Yeah, I was on my way out the door when Derrick called, but I need to calm down. I am not going to let Derrick spoil this night for me,” Mia said.

  “I know that’s right. Listen, have yourself a glass of wine and chill out and then go out and dazzle that man,” LaDonna said.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Are you still thinking about coming up here soon?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to talk to my travel agent first thing Monday. I can’t wait to see you, darling,” LaDonna said.

  “Me, too. Bye.”

  “Bye, Mia. And, Mia …” LaDonna paused.

  “Yes?”

  “Please have fun tonight, okay?”

  “I will,” she said as she hung up the receiver.

  Mia looked in the mirror and touched up her makeup. She saw the tension in her face and quickly made a conscious decision to calm down, relax, and return to her former good mood. She dabbed her underarms dry and went downstairs and poured herself a glass of wine. As she drank the wine she thought about what LaDonna said about Derrick being just stupid. Maybe she was right, there had only been that one incident of violence, but she still wanted him to stay out of her life. Mia gulped down the last of her wine and found her keys. As she was walking toward the door, she stopped, made a U-turn, and plugged her phone back in. She dialed LaDonna’s number once again.

  “Hello,” LaDonna said.

  “Hey, girl, it’s me again. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for accusing you of giving out my number. I know you wouldn’t do that. Will you forgive me?”

  “There is nothing to forgive. I know how you are and I know you’re uptight about this big date. Just get on out of that house and have a good time,” LaDonna said, amused by her friend’s occasional hissy fits.

  “I will. I love you,” Mia said.

  “I love you too, doll,” LaDonna said.

  Mia hung up the phone and was thankful that LaDonna always had a way of making her feel better. And the wine didn’t hurt either.

  Mia pulled her royal blue Mercedes 190SL into the restaurant’s valet area and handed her keys to the young black parking attendant with an eraser-topped haircut. He gave her a big smile, like a kid with an all-day pass to Disney World and said, “Hey, ain’t you the sports lady?” Mia smiled and said, “You got that right.” He grinned. “I love watching you on the tube.” Mia made a mental note to give him a big tip when she picked up her car, especially after she heard him tell one of his co-workers, “Man, look at her. Look at that walk. She’s all that and a bag of chips. She is over.”

  When she walked into the elegantly designed Creole restaurant, Zurich was standing at the hostess station. He looked quite handsome in an eggshell white suit, carefully tailored to his massive body, and a black cotton turtleneck. When he saw Mia, he gave her a broad smile and extended his hand toward her. But Mia reached up, placed her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him quickly on the lips. Zurich looked a bit startled and they both seemed to pull away from each other awkwardly.

  “Mia, it’s great seeing you,” Zurich said. He was blushing something serious, as his dimples deepened in his face. Mia had never noticed his dimples before.

  “Thank you, Zurich. It’s good to see you. I’m not late, am I?” Mia asked as she looked at her Rolex while giving him a slow once-over.

  “Oh no,” Zurich said. “I just arrived.”

  The hostess came over when she saw Mia and said, “Mr. Robinson and Ms. Miller, your table is ready.” Mia loved the fact that people gave her special attention when they recognized her, like the valet parking attendant.

  Zurich pulled out Mia’s chair and waited for her to be seated, then gently eased her chair closer to the table. Having Zurich so close, and smelling his Joop scent, made Mia want to simply start kissing him from head to corner toe. When he was seated, Zurich glanced around and complimented Mia on her excellent taste in restaurants.

  “I love this place. The food is great and sometimes they have a jazz combo that’s super. But I thought we might go over to the Intermission Jazz Bar over in Printer’s Row after dinner,” Mia said.

  “Don’t forget I have to catch a plane to Atlanta tomorrow. I really shouldn’t have let you talk me into doing this until sometime next week,” Zurich said.

  “Oh, come on, relax. I
promise to have you tucked in on time,” Mia smiled.

  The waiter came over, gave Zurich and Mia menus, and placed a wine list in front of Zurich.

  “Not for me, thank you,” Zurich said. The waiter looked in Mia’s direction. “And you, miss?” Mia looked at Zurich and thought he wasn’t drinking because of his big game on Sunday. She was hoping he wasn’t one of those athletes who abstained from everything good for you before a big sporting event.

  “What kind of wine do you have by the glass?” Mia asked.

  “May I suggest one of the excellent California whites?” the waiter said, pointing to the list.

  “Let me have a glass of house white,” Mia said.

  “And for you, sir?” the waiter asked Zurich.

  “Just let me have an iced tea,” Zurich said.

  “Would you like to order an appetizer?”

  “Sure, why not?” Mia said. She leaned over, touched Zurich’s knuckles, and said, “Please get what you like. Channel 3 is paying for this,” Mia lied. Her general manager knew nothing about her dinner.

  “Oh, a beautiful woman, and with an expense account,” Zurich said as he surveyed the menu and tried to relax. He could feel tiny beads of sweat gathering in the small of his back, a sure sign that he was nervous. He didn’t know why Mia made him so nervous.

  “You are too sweet,” Mia giggled. She hoped her wine would arrive soon, so she could relax. She couldn’t recall being this nervous about a date before.

  Zurich ordered a cold shrimp appetizer and fried calamari and said to Mia, “We can share.” Mia smiled and was relieved that at least Zurich ate fried food. So he hadn’t given up all the good stuff.

  “So how has your week been?” Mia asked.

  “It’s been busy with practice, meetings, and more practice. Atlanta has a complicated defense, so I’ve been staying late and going over plays with our offensive coordinator. I’m really nervous because I think my father and his lady friend and my little brother are going to be at the game.”