by Love Belvin
“Nah, I’m still gonna be there. It’ll be too late to eat, but I’ll call before I pull up.” I found myself backing away again, feeling too raw this close to her. This shit was weird. “Just don’t fall asleep without me.”
For the first time, as distance grew between us, Parker looked mad shy and lonely. It was like she had so much to say, but as two people who were talking walked between us, scary ass Parker ain’t say shit.
“So, to sum this up,” I sat up in my chair, tired as hell. We were downtown, at a restaurant I was underdressed for but didn’t give a shit. I was ready to go and hoped Parker hadn’t fallen asleep. “We’re gonna go with the two grand openings but on different weekends.”
“Yes.” Jeremy nodded. “The one in Center City…Philadelphia will happen first. Then we’ll hit the Trenton location.”
“Okay. And that one, in Trenton, is going to be like the one in Princeton?”
Princeton was the first sneaker boutique we opened three years ago. It was killing in profits, and since our inventory had just opened more, we decided to open two new boutiques.
“Yes. It’ll be a block party opening like you suggested,” Jeremy answered.
“But the Philly location will be limited to inside the store?” He nodded. “And the place ain’t ready?”
“Correct.”
“And they’re saying it won’t be ready until the week before?”
“Correct.” He nodded again.
“Bullshit. You know the game. That shit won’t be ready till like the day before, if we lucky!”
“It’s what he assured me, Rut.”
“Assure these nuts, man,” I groaned, sitting back in my chair. “I ‘on’t want no bootleg shit like we had in Princeton. We got them white boys in there and they took their precious time, not giving a fuck about our schedule. I told you we shoulda used my cousins and them.”
Jeremy rubbed his face with his hands, pushing his thick, black plastic frames up as he grumbled. It was usual for me to unload a lot on him, but he typically kept his cool about it. It was just tonight I’d been in a foul mood for many reasons and had no tolerance for getting fucked over.
And we probably looked like a pair. Where I was over six feet tall, Jeremy was hardly five feet seven. I weighed over a hundred pounds more than him, was a shimmering, fine ass toffee hued brother while Jeremey was a vanilla bean crème frapp—at least, that’s what I would say when clowning his ass. My dawg was a straight up geek in appearance: dark thick, unruly curls, glasses, dingy ass Steve Urkel cardigan sweater, and scuffed up ass saddle shoes. For a sneaker head, he only wore two pair of those oxfords. These he wore tonight were purchased six years ago. Jeremy was your classic cheap ass Jew, but he was my G; one of few I could depend on. Even if he came with the bitter and sweet tonight.
“Rut, you know we had to go with contractors from Pennsylvania. They’re locally licensed.” He groaned again.
“Fuck that. We could’ve snuck my cousins and them in.”
“For how long? Day two when someone heard the construction and decided to call the city?” He shook his head. “This isn’t the Rut Show. We can’t do everything your way—legal or illegal.”
I took a sip of my brandy. “And those Jordan 11 Concords been delayed?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “Dawg! You know those are a staple. We can’t have a fucking sneaker boutique without that design; fuck a grand opening. We’re gonna get clowned.”
Jeremy’s arms swung in the air. “I’ll leave you to deal with Eugene from over there about that matter. He never takes my calls no ways.”
“Oh, he’ll take my fuckin’ calls or I’m going to that warehouse and fuckin’ shit up.”
“Totally unnecessary.” He rubbed his eyes behind his frames. “We’re legit now, Rut. Our ammunition is the contracts we have in place. No need to go The Town on any of these vendors. We’ll get the shipment.”
I took a moment to stare at him. Jeremy was tired. He rarely slept. All he did was mind the business of Rubber Soles and play video games. He was my brain, and I was the muscle of the company. Don’t get me wrong, the brand was built on my vision and strategic moves, but Jeremy made shit happen on paper. He was instrumental in legitimizing the company. Because the NFL draft he’d been pulling most of the load all year, especially for these two boutique openings. I remembered the hoops we had to jump through for the first, so I understood the stress of it all. All that aside, I still needed him to go hard on our affiliates.
“We’ve come a long way, man,” I sighed, feeling accomplished for something I did with my first and only real passion.
“Sure have, dude!” Jeremy took a long sip of his beer. He turned to look at something on the other side of the restaurant. A smile topped his face out of nowhere. “Remember how we started?”
I thought for a minute. “Yeah. Witcha scary ass!” I laughed.
“Dude! I didn’t want Foot Locker coming after me for fraud.”
“Ain’t no fraud if you ain’t doing nothing wrong!”
“Taking advantage of their employee discount isn’t fraud?” I thought for a second then smiled. Jeremy rolled his eyes, not knowing where my mind was going. Remember Neeka?” With a big ass smirk, I nodded as Jeremy rolled his eyes even harder this time.
Back in tenth grade, when Jeremy and I had discovered the only thing we had in common outside of the school we went to, he told me he had a friend that worked at the sneaker store in the mall. Her name was Neeka. I asked him if he could get her to let us use her employee discount. Jeremy choked, saying he’d never have the balls to ask her for it and he didn’t want to get her in trouble. I said, ‘fuck it’ and approached her the best way I knew how. Neeka was older than me but the skinniest girl I’d ever put my dick inside of. It took three long ass weeks, but I finally got her after three movie dates, four dozens of roses, and sitting with her every day in the cafeteria. Painful, but worth it.
We were in business and Foot Locker was the plug back then. When a sneaker didn’t perform well, in terms of profit, the retailer would put them on sale. We’d then buy as many as we could through her and sell them. For two years, we bought shoes from that sneaker store then sold them from our book bags and even crates on the weekend.
When Neeka left town after her parents’ divorce, she secured a relationship with a coworker of hers. Not only was I grateful for the hook up, I was happy as hell Neeka didn’t try to hit me up after she left. She’d actually stopped a few months before she left and I understood why. Neeka needed me for clout around the school like I needed her discount for my budding business. I understood the game. All females had it.
“Yip.” Jeremy nodded. “And after Foot Locker was eBay.”
“And we slaughtered the sneaker game on there!” I whistled, recalling making sometimes five thousand a week.
“After eBay was StockX,” he reminded me.
I stretched my arm across the table. “And that’s when we couldn’t hide the money no more.”
Jeremy gave me some dap as he sat up in his seat. “Yeah, man. You were right. We’ve pulled it off—are pulling it off.” He shook his head, looking a bit dazed. “You were right all this time.”
I found myself nodding. He spoke truth. One of the many things Divine taught me over the years was to develop multiple streams of income. When he saw I was focused on the sneaker game, he gave me a few stacks to boost our wholesale inventory. He sat with Jeremy and me on a few occasions when in town and gave us mad jewels. But this baby was mine. It wasn’t like football; something my pops dreamt up for me and had Divine enforce.
“So, what’s next?”
Jeremy looked my way. “What?”
“After these two grand openings. I told you I wanted a few sneaker stores. We got that.” I shrugged. “What’s next for you? Or for us?”
With his index finger, Jeremy rubbed the area between his nose and top lip. His eyes circled around the way it did when he was thinking or plotting.
“A family,” he d
idn’t exactly speak clearly.
My face dropped. “A what?”
“Family.” His eyes dribbled again.
“For who?”
Jeremy slapped his hands on his lap, making a loud whack of it. “Me.” I could feel the muscles in my face go tight and my forehead lift. “Gracie and I want to—” His eyelashes began to flutter. “Ummmm… Trying. We’re trying for a baby.”
“Fuck you mean, a baby?”
Jeremy wouldn’t look at me, but I caught those black eyes rolling toward the other side of the restaurant. “It’s not a big deal, bro.”
“The fuck it ain’t. Jeremy, we talking about a fuckin’ kid. A lock down maneuver!”
Finally, he looked me dead in the eyes. “Who’s locking down who, Rut?”
“At first, I thought you was locking her down for her disability check.” He sucked his teeth and looked away from me again. “Then I realized the girl was already locked down, seeing she’s in a wheelchair and all.”
He groaned, stretching his neck before his head whipped over to me. “Would you stop your shit for once!”
“What?” My palms turned up at my sides.
“She’s not confined to the wheelchair, Rut. She only uses it outside of her apartment, and you know it!”
“I don’t! I don’t go to Gracie’s place, man.”
“Because you don’t accept her invitations to.”
“I haven’t gotten an invite in a minute, man.”
He leaped toward me in his chair and grated, “Because she stopped inviting your misogynistic, ableist ass to her events.”
“Able what?” I shook my head, not even caring what that meant. “I’m good with not being invited. What I don’t want is her trying to trap you with no baby because you on the come up!”
His laugh was bitter as he looked away from me. “On the come up…” was all he said for a while. “You think I give a shit about money, Rutledge? I can understand you came up with all the fly gear, money in your pocket, and could afford private schools. I get your popularity was based on what you wore and the legacy of your father. But that’s not my story. You think I care she has a minor disability—”
“Missing half a leg ain’t minor, bruh.”
“And what does that have to do with starting a family?”
“She gotta spinal injury, dawg. And she’s a cancer survivor. You gone put all that on that girl’s poor body?”
“Fuck you, Rut!”
I lifted my hands in the air. “I’m just looking out for you, J.”
“Like hell you are.” He shook off the argument. “Let’s just drop it. We’ve discussed everything concerning Rubber Soles and even my personal life. I think that’s about enough for one night.” He pulled out his wallet.
I had no argument on that.
As I checked my phone, I asked, “So where you staying in town?”
“Your place.” He stood from his seat.
“Cheap ass.” Of course, he would. “You sleeping in Sharkie’s room. I ‘on’t care if I ain’t gone be there. My bed is off limits, my G.” Jeremy sighed, shaking his head again. “Where ya things? I can drop you off there.”
“This is all I brought.” He pointed to the small tote on the empty chair. “I have a flight out first thing in the morning.”
“Why so early?”
“Gracie’s—” He placed his fist over his mouth, guarding his words. Then he dropped it and took a deep breath. “Gracie’s ovulating. You may not know, but there’s a small window of opportunity involved in that. I need to be back there.”
I pretended to gag.
“Fuck you,” he spat before walking off.
I didn’t take it personal. Lately, he’d been more sensitive about Gracie. I didn’t get it but didn’t get mad either. I caught up to him to make sure he was good.
“Yo, man—” From the side of my eye, I caught two chicks behind the bar, beaming my way. I smiled at them and waved. Without hesitation, they waved back. One even winked her eye. If I only had time, sweetheart… Maybe a different night when I wasn’t rushing off to something I didn’t understand. “Slow down.” I finally caught up to Jeremy. “You know I spit the truth and my truth is you my peoples. I just want what’s good for you.”
We made it outside to the valet when Jeremy turned to me.
“But you don’t want what’s best for me. And that’s the problem, Amare.”
“Fuck that mean?”
“It means you project your bullshit about women onto me. You know, deep down inside I think you know there are good women out here.”
“I know there’s some decent females—”
“No. Women. We’re almost in our mid-twenties now. We’re well-earning men. Don’t you think it’s time we act like it? You’re not in college anymore. I’m not in my parents’ basement, playing video games, eating pizza, and scratching my nuts anymore—”
“Well…” I pushed my hand in the air. “You just moved out of your moms’ crib a few months ago. And I’m quite sure you still do video gambling and scratch your paper bag colored sac.” That made me laugh even if it didn’t Jeremy.
It was the truth!
“Are you done?” he asked as I howled, handing the valet guy my ticket.
“Hold up!” I croaked out, hooting. “One last second!”
When I was able to slow down, he stepped closer. “I used to want to be just like you. Yeah, the awkward Jewish kid from Ewing wanted to be like the swaggered out prince of Trenton. From the first day you tried to clown me in front of your ‘cool guy’ friends sophomore year in high school and I had to tell you, you weren’t wearing the latest Air Max and how they were two seasons old, I said I wanted to be just like you. It didn’t matter that you were big, black, athletic, with street cred, and already with money. I wanted to be you.” He stabbed my chest with his finger. “Now, I find myself almost neck and neck with you in money and with so many of the same connects, and you know what? I’d be sick if I woke up one day being Rut Amare.”
My head shot back.
What the fuck?
“You’re a lonely motherfucker. And so was I. But you…” He sucked in a breath. “You don’t fully trust anyone.”
“I did, and now he’s dead!” I shouted in his face, fist balled at my side.
Jeremy flinched, swallowed, and inched his chin higher to meet my glare. “That’s bullshit. You hardly brought him on your college campus. You don’t cross social lanes, Rut, and you know it. A few years ago, I realized you compartmentalize all your relationships, believing that laughable ‘skill’ makes you the master of people.” He scoffed, “Well, that’s where I got off the train. I may be a natural introvert, but unlike you, I can open my mind and heart to love a woman. I can marry her and blend our worlds. I can make babies with her and give her fidelity. And you know what, Rut? That’s when I didn’t feel lonely anymore.”
I cocked my head to the side, not believing he put feeling lonely on me. When I met this dude, he didn’t have one physical friend. They were all virtual; online, all over the globe. But I made him lonely? I always had friends…family!
“I feel…” He turned his head as he thought. “Free! Free to breathe and to trust. And to lay down at night and speak freely to a warm body, who I know has my best interest at heart. Someone I know would give me sound advice. Someone who believes if I lose, she loses. Someone who doesn’t scheme on my vulnerability but values it.” He backed away. “Same body, one heart, the set of legs from yesterday, the day before, and the day before that.” He was out of breath at his last words.
My whip pulled up and I turned to acknowledge it with my eyes only. Then my attention went back to Jeremy.
“Three quarters of a set.”
His face went tight, glasses lifting as his nose raised. “Pardon?”
“Gracie. She got three quarters of a set. You know… With the bottom half of the right one being gone.” I moved to the car. “And don’t forget her back that goes out. You can’t fuck her hard
enough to put a baby in there. Good luck with that.” I went on and on busting his chops. Jeremy’s whole face turned red as he hopped into my ride, slamming the door behind him.
~Eleven
“I don’t blame him, you know?”
“About what?”
Rut showed up close to thirty minutes ago, went straight into the bathroom, stripped down to his boxers, and climbed into bed with me. He told me about his day and how he’d just left a meeting with his business partner. It was also when I learned about his side business—or primary, according to him—as a sneaker retailer. I was sorry to hear that meeting ended in a fight between the two.
“About changing his stance on his future as it concerns a family. I told you I wanted a husband and a family since I began to understand soap operas, but now I’d be perfectly fine with half that. People change. It’s a fact of life,” I susurrated under the sound of the creaking ceiling fan.
“Yeah,” he snorted softly. “Your plan don’t make much sense either. How you gonna have a baby without the father?”
I shrugged with one shoulder, though I doubted he could see it. “It happens all the time. I’m sure you know.” I sighed, not wanting to travel into that topic. “Anyway… It’s cool that you have a legit business outside of football. I’m constantly hearing the finance people in the front office snicker and sometimes complain about the way players lack financial intelligence no matter how much the Kings put into educating them.”
“Yeah,” he yawned, the tantalizing scent of mint mixed with a nutty brandy puckered my nipples. “We’ve been killing the game. The company hit four million this year and we’re looking at seven next year.” Rut rubbed his nose. “I had to learn way before the league. My pops been down since I was in grammar school. He may have left us sitting on something, but he made it clear that was more for my moms than me. Said real men are made from hardworking, hustling boys.”
“How were you supposed to earn money that young?”
“By figuring it out. He said he’d give me a few years, but I was on the clock.”
