“August, I—”
“Just . . . it’s okay, Iris.” He walks toward the door, stopping only to drop a kiss on the top of my head. “Let’s talk later when we’re both . . .” He shakes his head, pulling his cap lower over his hair. “Let’s just talk later.”
The door closes behind him.
45
Iris
The client Jared asked me to follow up with decided not to sign. I received an email reminding me that the money for the online sports certification is due today, and I don’t have it. The daycare called me out of a meeting because Sarai bit some kid. I had to review a fifty-page contract Jared needed “like yesterday” . . . in five minutes.
It’s a day from hell, and it’s not even noon yet.
My email alert dings, distracting me from the branding strategy Jared asked me to tweak for a soccer player who recently signed. I open the email from human resources, and my blood pressure soars. I’m up and charging down the hall, knocking on Jared’s office door before I give myself time to cool off.
“Iris, hey,” he says, glancing up from his laptop. “Come on in.”
“Can I ask you . . .” My words falter. “Did August . . .” Shit. I know he did this, but it sounds ridiculous saying it aloud, and if I’m wrong, it will make things awkward between my boss and me.
“The email from human resources,” I start again. “It said all entry-level employees are receiving a raise, effective immediately. That our next check will reflect the increase.”
“Yes.” Jared sits back from his desk and links his hands on top of his head. “What about it?”
“Did August do that?” I rush the question before I change my mind. “For me, I mean?”
“I’m not in the habit of discussing high-level financial and human resources decisions with our entry-level employees.”
“Of course.” Embarrassment heats my cheeks and twists my insides. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
I back out of the door, but his voice stops me.
“Iris,” he says. “Wait a second.”
I force myself to meet his eyes.
“I’ve never seen my brother like this about anyone.” He rests his elbows on the desk. “Not just since you’ve come here, but even before, when you were still with Caleb.”
“Oh, well, I—”
“Don’t hurt him.”
I search the stern expression on his face. “Me?” I touch my chest. “Hurt him?”
“When he asked me about increasing the entry-level pay at five o’clock this morning,” he says, pausing to give me a pointed look, “thanks to you both for that, by the way. Because who needs more than five hours of sleep?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“When he called,” Jared continues, blasting past my apology, “he seemed to think it was going to piss you off but said it was the only way to help you, and he won’t stand by watching you struggle.”
Tears spring to my eyes. How much did that cost him? Or this company? I said I didn’t want anything all the other entry-level employees didn’t have, and he gave them all raises so I’d feel better about accepting his help? Would a man who secretly meant me harm do that?
No. And it’s no secret August loves me.
There are many things that may always have to remain a secret between us, but how I feel about him shouldn’t be one of them.
46
August
“Good run,” Kenan says, slamming his locker closed. “You’re getting better, Rook.”
“I’m pretty sure a player in his third season,” I say, closing my locker, too, “is no longer considered a rookie.”
“It’s got such a ring to it, though.” Kenan’s deep chuckle rumbling in that massive chest of his coaxes a grin to my lips.
“Why were you in a shitty mood today, West?” Valdez, the back-up point guard, asks. I suspect he resents me at least a little. He’s been in the league for a decade and probably doesn’t appreciate playing behind me.
Oh, well. It’s like that sometimes.
“It’s a chick, huh?” Valdez asks with a taunting grin. “That tennis player? Pippa Lee?”
“I doubt Iris would appreciate that.” Kenan laughs and hefts his duffle bag on his shoulder.
“Iris?” Valdez’s eyebrows rise dramatically. “I heard Caleb Bradley’s baby’s mama, Iris DuPree, lives here now. You don’t mean that Iris?”
My teeth clench. I already know this conversation’s gonna go to shit if he starts with Caleb. I just look at him and walk past, deciding it’s better not to respond. Iris won’t even tell me half of what happened with Caleb. I’m certainly not discussing their relationship with this motherfucker, and there’s even less of a chance I want to discuss our relationship with him.
“Wasn’t trying to start nothing, Rook,” Valdez says behind me.
I ignore the name. Kenan teasing me that way is one thing. He and I have an understanding. I’m the face of the team, but he is the heart of it. His maturity and accomplishments have earned my respect, and he leads so well from behind. This dude—not so much.
“I’d be careful if I were you is all I’m saying,” Valdez persists. “She already trapped one baller. Now she’s fucking you. Better wrap it up or you’ll be paying for some pussy for the rest of your life. Not worth it, no matter how good it might be.”
His voice, his words behind me pause meaningfully.
“And I’ve seen her,” he continues. “That looks like some good pussy.”
I turn before I even realize it. His T-shirt is bunched in my fist. His face only inches from mine.
“You crossed the line, motherfucker,” I grit out. “You ever talk about her like that again, you’re gone.”
“What the—”
“Don’t act like it can’t happen.” I drop him but don’t step back. “You are here at my discretion, Valdez. One word to Deck and you’ll be traded, cut, whatever I say, and you know it.”
“You son of a—”
“Your game is adequate, at best, on a good night,” I snap. “You’re lucky to be drawing base pay, but if you ever talk about Iris again, you won’t even have that. Not here.”
Resentment and bitterness twist his features. “Glad, tell this kid he better back up.”
Kenan shrugs, adjusting the strap of his duffle as he stands by the locker room exit.
“If he doesn’t follow through on the threat,” Kenan says, “I will. You don’t talk about a teammate’s girl like that. That’s how you get your shit messed up.” He cocks one dark brow. “And it’s the quickest way to ruin a team’s chemistry. That I can’t have. Not in this locker room.”
Kenan would know. He’s still haunted by his ex’s affair with a teammate on his last squad. Valdez glances between the two of us, muttering and scowling, before stomping out of the locker room.
“Thanks for having my back,” I mumble, my hands stinging with the need to punch a hole through that son of a bitch.
“Nothing to it.” Kenan pauses. “But he might have a point. Chicks can make you believe anything when your dick is in their mouth.”
I wheel on him, angry words queued up and ready to slice.
“You better learn how to handle your shit better than that, Rook,” Kenan says calmly. He walks down the hall toward the exit, and I follow him. “If you can’t even take it from me, I’d hate to see you when we play Caleb and the Stingers on Thanksgiving Day.”
My anger ebbs as I realize he’s testing me, and I’m failing.
“You think there won’t be speculation when people find out you’re dating Caleb’s girl?”
“She’s not his girl.” She’s mine.
“She had his kid. I assume he’s still in their lives and supporting them financially.”
“He’s not.” The opposite actually, which I still don’t understand and Iris still won’t tell me. We reach the exit and head toward the parking lot of the training facility.
“For real?” He turns his lips down at the corners. “What’s that about?”
“I don’t know. She . . .”
Iris’s piece-of-shit car, the one we argued about this morning, is parked beside my truck. She’s leaning against the hood, watching us walk up.
“Speak of the devil,” Kenan says under his breath, then speaks loud enough for her to hear. “Hey, Iris. Good to see you again.”
“Hi, Kenan.” She glances between the two of us quickly, biting her lip when she meets my eyes. “Hey, August.”
“When’s your cousin coming back in town?” Kenan asks before I can speak.
Iris and I both turn shocked looks on him. Since his wife showed her ass cheating on him and is putting him through hell in custody court, Kenan is notoriously gun-shy when it comes to women. I mean, I’m sure he’s getting ass somewhere. A baller bouncing from city to city—that’s not hard to do. But for him to ask about a girl? A real girl? Unusual.
“Um, you mean Lotus?” Iris asks, just to make sure.
“Yeah, I think that was her name.” He shrugs as if he’s not sure, except Kenan is always sure of everything.
“I guess . . . I’ll probably see her at Thanksgiving.”
“Cool,” he says with a nod.
“Should I, um, I don’t know,” Iris says, “tell her you said hi?”
“No.” He looks at her strangely. “Why would you do that?”
Iris and I exchange a look, and I give a subtle shake of my head, telling her not to try and figure out Kenan.
“I’ll see you on the plane tomorrow, Rook,” Kenan says, walking toward his truck. “Don’t be late.”
Once he’s gone, Iris and I stare down at the same patch of concrete. I assume she found out about the raise and is here to rip me a new one. What-the-hell-ever. There’s no way I’ll stand back and watch her struggle raising Sarai by herself on that measly paycheck.