by Angela Blake
Keith had always admired his parents and the way their relationship just seemed so effortless, but he often wondered why he was nothing like them.
He had inherited his father’s dark skin and his mother’s hazel eyes, but beyond that he got nothing else. Not their old fashioned romantic notions on love, nor their love for the ordinary. Keith knew from a young age then he didn’t want a quiet life raising a family. He wanted to be front and center, he wanted the glory and the fame that came with being in the spotlight. He wanted girls to scream his name, and he didn’t want to stick to just one woman.
While his father tried to teach him about romance, Keith was too busy trying to figure out how to make it big. He knew that he had a tough time ahead of him because of his skin color, because although black people had come a long way in the States, he knew they still had a long way to go.
White privilege was still very much alive.
Growing up with two different cultures as his environment meant that Keith had a talent that very few people possessed. He had the charm of the English, and the tenacity of the Americans, paired with his winning smile, and his confidence, he knew that if he played his cards just right, he’d make it big.
And he was right.
He managed to graduate top of his class with a degree in the media arts, but he soon began pursuing a different passion, something he had a knack for since he got his first basketball at the age of five.
The second he opened the present and held the ball in his hand, he understood why Michael Jordan wanted to get where he was, and from that point on, he did everything he could to make sure he got there too.
When he graduated from college, he moved to the States full time to pursue a career in basketball. At first, he worked odd jobs here and there. Three days a week he did some free-lance work for a marketing firm, and the rest of the week, he trained with a coach who let him play in a small scale basketball team. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Two years later, a talent scout happened to be walking by when he spotted Keith play, and the rest fell into place. His parents had just flown out to celebrate, and they took him out to dinner at a nice restaurant. They began prepping him with questions about the sport, his team mates, particularly Blake Hamilton and Mark Hummel. They were legends in the NBA, and even though he played alongside them in some of the games, they only knew him from afar, so he hardly ever interacted with them.
But he knew all about their lifestyles, they were considered royalty on and off the court. Women flocked to their side; or at least they used to until they both discovered that they were fathers.
Keith inwardly snorted at their bad luck, knowing that he’d never make that mistake. He knew that he wanted to be at the top of the food chain in the team, and once he got there, no one would take that away from him.
Not a woman nor a child.
He knew that having one or the other or both would be distracting and would make him unable to stay ahead of the game, so he avoided it as much as he could.
He half listened to his parents chatter on about how proud they were, and how they were thinking about moving to the states, so they could be close to him.
“Wait, what?” Keith had only been half listening, so he wasn’t sure he’d heard them right.
“Move back here?” He repeatedly looked from his father’s shy smile to his mother’s beaming face.
“Well, honey, why not? Your father and I have lived in Britain for quite some time now, and I know your father misses America, so I figured we could move back here for a while.”
Keith loved his parents, he did, but he was twenty-five, and just getting started on his big plans to live large, so he didn’t want to have to worry about disappointing his parents.
“Don’t worry, son. We’re still talking about it, we wouldn’t want to ‘cramp your style’ or whatever the kids call it these days.”
Keith was surprised to find himself chuckling. “Okay, Dad.”
Cramp my style he thought to himself with an amused grin, he shook his head as his parents continued to tell him a story about his grandparents.
He absent-mindedly scratched his back, wondering how long the tattoo would itch. The tattoo artist had said that it was normal for it to feel itchy and uncomfortable for the first few days, but that after a week of using cream, he wouldn’t be able to feel a thing.
He had gotten two tattoos, one on his shoulder of a Game of Thrones quote ‘Valar Morghulis’, and the other on his back that was a picture of Rocky Balboa.
He hadn’t been quite sure of the second one, but his team mates had assured him that women not only loved tattoos, but that they loved manly tattoos, what could be more manly than a boxer?
He took a bite out of his dessert, and absent mindedly watched a petite waitress with short black hair and a nose piercing clear the table next to them.
She was bent over the table as she cleared away the dishes, and Keith found himself fantasizing about a different kind of bending.
He shifted uncomfortably as he felt himself begin to grow aroused. He hated that his parents were sitting right across the table from him because he didn’t feel comfortable doing his own thing with them around, but he’d figure out a way around that.
He continued to watch the waitress out of the corner of his eye, and once she caught him staring, she smirked at him and gave her hips an extra shake.
One eyebrow went up in surprise as she gave him a saucy wink before sauntering off, knowing full well that he was staring at her backside and wondering how to get her over.
Keith made a comment at something his parents said as he continued to think of the black haired mix who just walked off.
He noticed that she emerged a while later, and she made eye contact with him as she gave him a small seductive smile. He signaled her over, and as he watched her strut to the table, he wondered how he could make his move with his parents sitting across the table.
Just as she was approaching the table, she tripped and fell and landed directly at his feet. The water she was carrying spilled all over the front of his pants, and he gazed at his parents in dismay wondering what had just happened. He glanced down fully intending to help her up before he noticed that she was gesturing for him to be quiet.
“I’m so sorry, Sir,” she began as she picked up a napkin and began to rub his legs.
He opened his mouth to say something before he noticed that she had spilled some water on the front of her shirt as well, and now it stuck to her body in a way that accentuated her breasts. His parents both got up and mumbled about finding him a spare shirt from a shop nearby, and they exited the restaurant.
Aware that some of the staff was staring at them, Keith tried not to make it too obvious that he was turned on and staring at her.
She leaned over, so he could get a peek at her lacy black bra, and Keith gulped as he felt himself growing more and more turned on.
The waitress continued to tut and apologize as she attempted to make sure he was ‘dry’.
She knew exactly what she was doing and soon Keith was so aroused he was sure everyone in the restaurant would be able to see.
The waitress ran his fingers lightly over it as she smirked. “I think I’d better take you out back and find you a spare pair of pants, Sir. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold on my account.”
“Yes,” his voice came out sounding hoarse. “Yes, quite right. I’ll also need to speak with your manager about your behavior.”
The waitress’s eyes widened in mock fear. “Please, Sir. Don’t get me fired. I’ll do anything.” She emphasized the last word by licking her lips.
Keith tried to look nonchalant as he stood up and glowered at her. She gestured for him to follow her, and she kept her head down as she led him to the back.
“We’re very sorry, Sir.” The rest of the staff hurried to apologize as he moved past them. He waved their apology away with a tight smile, feeling bad about the deception mo
mentarily, before realizing that they had all probably done something similar.
The waitress led him to the back and through a set of double doors that led to what looked like the employee staff room.
There was another man there, so the waitress pretended to look for a spare pair of pants before she finally produced them and handed them to Keith.
The man left the staff room, and the waitress wasted no time in pushing Keith backwards and into the ladies bathroom. She looked the door and turned around to face him with a smile that made it clear what her intentions were.
“I’m Fiona, and I’ll be your waitress. Anything you need, anything at all, I’ll be happy to oblige.”
Keith pretended to think. “Well, Fiona, I believe you’ve gotten water all over my pants, and I’ll need you to find me a new pair and help me put them on.”
“Of course, Sir.” A small smile played on her lips as she reached for the button on his pants.
Keith grabbed her wrists and yanked her closer. “But first, we must talk about your very inappropriate behavior.”
Fiona gazed at him innocently. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Keith raised an eyebrow. “No?” He began to trail his hands over her body lightly, making sure not to touch her anywhere she wanted to be touched.
“Perhaps I can refresh your memory,” he whispered in her ear as he nibbled on her earlobe.
Fiona nodded eagerly. “Yes, I think you should.”
Keith chuckled as he began to pat her down much like she did with him earlier, only far more slowly, and he didn’t have to be subtle since no one could see them.
“Ringing any bells, yet?” he inquired casually as he let his hands rest on her breasts.
“Maybe a little.” Fiona’s voice came out sounding breathy.
She’s as turned on as I am Keith thought to himself. Good he thought as he moved his hands and began to massage her shoulders.
“Now, about those pants you were going to help me change out of…” He trailed off as he gave her a smirk.
Fiona leaned over and bit her lips suggestively. “As you wish.”
***
Keith emerged a while later and hastily ran his hands through his disheveled hair, he ran his hands down his pants and smoothed out the creases before he straightened up and made his way back towards their table.
“Oh, honey.” His mother stood up and handed him a button down blouse. “We went to the nearest store, but we couldn’t quite find your size, so it took a bit of searching. I do hope you won’t get sick.”
Keith shook his head as he took the shirt that was being shoved into his arms. “Don’t worry, mother.”
“Young Lady,” his mother gestured to the black haired waitress. The waitress froze before she put on a professional smile and walked over. Keith tried not to stand too close to her lest he smell himself all over here and become tempted to do it all over again, even if his parents were watching.
“Yes, ma’am?” The waitress smiled politely.
“ I do appreciate you helping our son find a spare pair of pants, it really is quite hard to manage that.” His mother patted her hand gratefully.
The waitress gave her a warm smile. “Of course, ma’am. Anytime, I’d be happy to help with anything I can.”
The waitress gave him a look that let him know what she meant, and Keith tried not to gulp as he felt himself begin to grow aroused again. He tore his gaze away from hers and stared at the china on the table on the far right until he felt he was in control again.
He let his gaze wander back to hers, and he casually looked at her. “Yes, you’ve been most helpful, you really do put the customers’ needs first, don’t you?”
The waitress gave him a slow, Cheshire cat kind of smile. “We do what we can, Sir.”
Keith gave her a pleasant smile. “I know that very well now.”
The waitress opened her mouth to say something before she paused she heard her name being called out. She gave them all an apologetic smile before she hurried off to find her next clients.
As they walked out into the brusque night hair, Keith tried not to be overwhelmed by New York City’s neon bathed lights. He’d lived here for about a year now, but he still couldn’t quite get used to the hustle and bustle of New York City. When he lived here with his parents, they had stayed with his grandparents in Charlotte, a nice quiet little town.
Keith’s mother answered the phone and began prattling away as she stepped a little to the side.
“A word, son?”
“Sure, Pop. What’s up?”
His father looked pained, as if he didn’t quite know what to say to his only son. He finally took a deep breath, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I know you’re a grown man now, but must you really flirt so blatantly in front of your mother?”
Keith had the grace to look chagrined. “Right. Sorry about that, Pop.”
“What you do with your time is your business, Son, and who you do it with.” At this he grimaced before he continued. “Well, that’s your business as well, but airing it out like that in front of your mother.”
Keith held up his hand in mock surrender. “Are we really going to pretend mum is a prude who had no clue what I was talking about?”
Keith’s father looked at him carefully before he burst out laughing. “No, I suppose we can’t. Your mother is one hell of a woman, son.”
He gazed over at his wife who gave them a small wave as she continued to chat intently on the phone. Keith rolled his eyes and pretended to gag. “No offense, Dad, but I’d really rather not hear about you and mum in those terms.”
“Eh?” His father turned around to face him, and a wicked grin crossed his lips. “Sure you don’t want to hear the details then?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Keith shuddered. “I’m good, I’ll pass.”
Roger laughed as he patted him on the back. “Whatever happened to that girl-Liesel, was it?”
Keith Roger hadn’t thought about Liesel in almost five years. Not since they were both eighteen and in love. He remembered her clearly now that his father had mentioned her. It was as if by saying her name, he had conjured her up, and Keith could almost see her there, standing right in front of him in her summer dress with her blonde hair reaching her waist, her blue eyes shining as she laughed at something he said.
“Liesel? Dad, I haven’t seen her since we were eighteen.”
“Really? That’s a damn shame. She was a fine one.”
Keith gave him an amused grin. “We were so young back then Dad. How would you know?”
“When you know, you know son, and believe me even at that age, you can tell.”
Keith knew his father was right, but he would never admit it because admitting it would mean that his father was right with his old fashioned notions about love, relationships and intimacy. But Keith knew, of course. He knew it from the minute he set eyes on her. His heart had skipped a beat that day, and he knew he couldn’t rest until he found out who she was, and how he could make her his.
“Do you guys want to come and stay with me?” Keith wisely changed the subject as the memory of Liesel still lingered in his mind.
“Oh, no that’s alright. Your mother and I, we got a room at this very fancy hotel-your mother will remember its name-and we’re staying there.”
“You sure you don’t want to stay with me?” He finally spotted a cab, and he hailed it down.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure. I want to treat your mother to a nice vacation with champagne, and chocolate covered strawberries.”
“Too much information again, Dad.”
Keith’s mum walked towards them as she finished the phone call. “Alright, boys. What did I miss?”
“I was just telling Keith all about my plans to ravish you tonight.”
Bridget looked absolutely appalled as she slapped his arm away. “Roger, not in front of Keith.” A sma
ll blush tinted her cheeks as she shook her head at her husband’s antics.
“He’s old enough darling.”
They slid into the back and continued their playful banter. Roger was torn between wanting to wrench the cab door open and race down the street to forget he ever heard his parents flirting and wanting to listen to them just a while longer because despite his insistence that they should stop because they were disgustingly cute, he actually quite liked hearing them.
Even though he didn’t want, nor did he believe he could have that love himself, he was happy that his parents managed to find it together. His mother was a fantastic woman, and his father was an amazing man, and they both deserved happiness together.Even if it made Keith sick to his stomach.
They stopped outside the hotel a while later, and his parents waved goodbye as they got into the big brass double doors.
When Keith got home, he groped around for the light switch that illuminated his spacious bachelor pad. He walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer, which he downed in one gulp. He checked his watch and realized he’d better get to bed because he had a meeting with his manager the next day.
He wanted to discuss his public image, and his need for a publicist.
Keith didn’t see what the point was, all he wanted was to hear people chant his name. He wanted the women to go crazy for him on the court, and he wanted to make them chant his name over and over in the bedroom.
So far, he was doing a fine job of that, so he didn’t understand the point of a publicist.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tossed his beer into the bin before making his way to the bedroom. He kicked off his shoes, took off his shirt and pants and slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt.
He plopped down onto the bed and drifted off to sleep with thoughts of a blue eyed blonde dancing behind his eyelids.
Chapter 2
“Remind me again, why do I have to do this?” Keith asked the next day as he poured his coffee into a travel mug and searched for his keys.
