Any Man I Want (10 page)

Carter—Monday, June 14—11:40 a.m.

 

 

I
'd been back from my trip to the Caribbean and Vegas with Katrina for two weeks and I was still playing catch-up at work. The eighty-hour workweeks I was used to putting in didn't hold the appeal they used to. My vice president Gina and I were already talking about bringing on extra help at the executive level to take up some the slack. The company was stable and profitable enough that I didn't need to have my hands on the wheel every second of every day.

Watching Beau settle into married life as he and Belle balanced work and home had opened my eyes to a few things. I'd spent so many years concentrating on getting to where I thought I needed to go that I hadn't taken a moment to sit and reflect on the end game. I spent high school and college working my ass off to be the best athlete I could be, knowing that was my ticket to some level of security for me and my family. Not saying I didn't have some good times along the way, but I never played as seriously as I worked.

I was 75 percent talent and 30 percent raw hunger and ambition. That extra 5 percent was my saving grace. I was only a year or two into my professional football career when I realized I was going to need a fallback plan. I watched guys who were more talented than me getting hurt or cut or traded—out of the league with no idea what to do next. The average pro football career is three years. The average life expectancy for a black male is sixty-seven years. If your playing career was over at the age of twenty-five, that was a lot of retirement to deal with on very little income. I wasn't going to be that guy.

I'd put the same dedication and drive into making Parks Properties a success as I had in my ten-year playing career. I considered myself a combination of blessed, lucky, and smart.

The only area where I hadn't really put in the effort to be successful was in my private life. Family I kept close. Friendships I cultivated. But focusing on one special lady and giving her all I had? This was the first time I was with someone who even inspired those kinds of thoughts.

As expected, the physical aspect of my relationship with Katrina was enthusiastic, energetic, and intoxicating. Put plainly, we were combustible in bed. Physically compatible in every way. Sexually, we brought out the best and wildest in each other. Katrina had a deep pool of stored-up fantasies from the simple to the seriously sexy and I had both the desire and innate ability to bring those fantasies to life. It was chemical synergy.

The surprising thing was the way we seamlessly integrated into the other areas of each other's lives as if we'd always been there. When we got back from Vegas two weeks ago, we swung by her place, picked up some of her stuff from her condo, and she'd been at my house ever since. No discussion, no drama.

I bought the large, remodeled Tudor a few years back, hoping to fill it with a family someday. I felt a jolt when Katrina walked in my door and set her bags down. She instantly belonged. Clearly, I'd underestimated just how much I wanted someone—her—there. It was like finding the last piece to a puzzle. She waltzed in and took in the open-concept first floor with its mixture of dark antiques, light hardwoods, traditional furnishings, and muted walls, and nodded.

“I like it. The blues and greens are little too Carter Parks corporate, but I can work with it. Bring in a stronger shade of that ocean color here, maybe wine-colored accents over there.” She gestured. I wondered if she realized she had started redecorating my home without being asked.

“Carter Parks corporate?” I asked.

“Yes, buttoned up. Grown-up. Smooth. Deceptively easygoing and congenial.”

I crossed my arms and raised a brow at her. “As opposed to?”

“My Carter Parks. A little untamed, deep thinker, still with a few rough edges, down for whatever, and doesn't mind cutting a little loose from time to time.”

She had been paying attention. I reached out and pulled her to me. “All that, huh?

“Ya know, so far, so good. For all I know, you could have a dungeon with whips and chains in the basement,” she teased.

I leaned down and brushed my lips against hers. “You would love that, wouldn't you?”

“Don't start. We have things to do today that require us to be clothed.” She pushed away from me and backed up a step or two.

“I could work around that.” I crooked a finger.

“I'll just bet you could.” She shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “You don't really have some sort of bondage room, do you?”

“No. But I can scare up a thing or two to get your freak flag flying,” I promised and took a step toward her.

“Carter!” she shrieked and whirled away running.

“Bedrooms are upstairs,” I called out, giving her a head start before I took off after her.

Don't get me wrong: In the two weeks we'd been living together it wasn't all slap, tickle, and giggles. Katrina and I were two strong personalities, so we bickered and we battled. We were two people who were used to getting our own way. Neither of us liked to concede a point, but at the end of the day we either agreed to disagree or deferred and moved on.

Katrina was a high maintenance woman and I was a hands-on kind of guy. If the relationship was to move forward, I had to steer us there. That sort of relationship upkeep required dedicated time and attention. Not to mention patience. And sometimes my patience ran short. I knew Katrina was worth it in the end. Getting there was going to take the best I had to give.

I stood at my office window near the Galleria in Dallas and watched the noonday traffic on the Tollway. I was considering calling Katrina to see if she had time for lunch when the intercom buzzed on my desk phone.

“Mr. Parks, your brother is on line two and your grandfather is on his way up.”

“Thanks, Shawn. Are you ever going to call me Carter?” I teased.

“Maybe, one day,” he declared before putting the call through.

“What's up, Chris?” I switched the call to speakerphone and leaned back in my office chair.

“I am calling to say thank you!” he chirped enthusiastically.

I frowned down at the phone and waved my grandfather in as he appeared outside my door. Collin Parks marched into my office like the former military man he was. Back straight, salt-and-pepper hair trimmed low, looking fit in a pair of khakis and a polo shirt with a lightweight jacket over the top. I pointed at the phone and mouthed, “Chris.” Gramps nodded and sat down in one of the two chairs I had placed in front of the desk. “Thank me for what?”

“Sending your girlfriend and some of her friends out to practice today. They definitely brighten up the sideline.” Chris had decided to defer enrollment to business school and pursue football instead. He signed with Dallas and was attending minicamp in the facility across town. He was renting an apartment in Las Colinas and I enjoyed seeing him regularly.

“Katrina is out there?” I realized I had no idea what her schedule was today.

“Oh, yeah. We are definitely TeamKat around here.”

“Doing what?”

“She and some of the models she knows brought lunch out for the team and staff. They are also wearing some league gear that's been designed for women.”

I knew BellaRich had turned in a bid to create clothing for the NFL for Women line but I didn't realize it came through. “Oh, yeah? What's for lunch?”

“Mexican. Turn on NFL Network; your girl is doing you proud.”

“I hope you are spending as much time working as you are looking at models,” Gramps cautioned his youngest grandson.

“Of course, Gramps. You know how I do,” Chris said.

“Yeah boy, I do. That's why I'm reminding you of what you're there for.”

“Yes, sir. Um . . . later Carter.” Chris hung up.

I picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV hanging on the far side of the room. When it powered on, I punched in the channel number for the NFL Network. They were showing a commercial.

“What brings you down, Gramps?”

He crossed his arms. “We gotta do the speech over at the First Chance Foundation.”

Gramps ran two of my charitable foundations. One worked with businesses across Louisiana and Texas to provide jobs and scholarships to young teens who may not have the opportunity otherwise. We also offered some tutoring and counseling to the kids. I'd named it the Carter First Chance Foundation. The other worked to reintegrate returning vets into the workplace. We also offered advanced training and counseling for the vets as well. That one we named the Carter Second Chance Foundation. “What's up?”

“We've got a couple of knuckleheads in there talking mess. Stuff like they don't need to worry about their grades because they're going pro.” In order to participate in the First Chance programs, we held all the kids to a grade-point average. If they dropped below the average two grade periods in a row, we had them leave the program. Education was stressed as a cornerstone for advancement.

Every year we had a few kids come through with so much real athletic talent they thought that was going to be enough to see them through. They didn't think about what might happen if they didn't make it or got hurt. Those were the ones I worried about the most. “Okay, I'll come out after-hours in a week and bring some of the fellas with me. We'll serve a dinner and get the real story told.” I had a few former players who came out with me and we did our own version of Scared Straight.

“Bring your shiny new girlfriend with you, she'll make an impression,” Gramps joked and pointed at the screen. “Ooo-wee boy, she is looking fancy.”

Sure enough, there was my shiny new girlfriend looking fancy in a sparkly tank top and tight hot pants with sky-high heels, smiling widely into the camera. I turned up the volume.

“Miss Montgomery, you've been in the news a lot lately. In light of some of your recent troubles, do you think it's a good idea for the NFL to partner with your company to design sexy clothing?”

Katrina smiled even wider. “First of all, I don't have recent troubles. I have an ex-boyfriend who plays dirty, which reflects poorly on him, not me. Secondly, what is wrong with sexy clothing as long as it's well made and flattering?”

“You have to know that your ex is going to say that you slept with someone to get this contract. Are you sleeping with someone affiliated with the NFL?”

Gramps and I exchanged a look. A mischievous grin crossed Katrina's face and her eyes twinkled. She tossed her hair over her shoulder in a gesture I was familiar with. “Uh-oh, this means trouble,” I muttered.

She leaned in closer to the interviewer. “Actually, Mark, I am.”

Mark's mouth fell open and the other reporters standing around scrambled to get closer as they sensed a story brewing. “Um, I beg your pardon? You are admitting to sleeping with an NFL official?”

She shook her head. “That is not what I said.”

“What are you saying?”

“Mark, I don't know why it's any of your business, but I am exclusively enjoying the favors of Carter Parks, retired NFL player and current real estate mogul. He has nothing to do with sexy clothes unless you count the fact that he loves taking them off me. And I don't mind letting him. Hey, babe.” She blew a kiss from her glossed-up lips into the camera.

Gramps snickered. “Boy, your business is in the streets.”

“Yeah. It is.” I couldn't stop my grin from spreading if I tried. I knew I should feel some sort of way about it, but I was kind of proud she claimed me.

“You gonna keep this one, son, or throw her back like the others?”

“C'mon now, I don't do that.”

“Sure you do,” he scolded me.

“Does that look like a woman who gets thrown anywhere she doesn't want to go?”

“Son, I raised you since you were a puppy. You think I don't know when you're ducking a direct answer?”

“I don't know, Gramps. I'd like it to work out for us, go the distance. I don't know if she's ready for that. Either at all or with me. I don't know.”

“You know what? You've fought for and won everything you ever wanted in life. This is no different. You make a plan, you execute, and you win. That's who you are.”

I'd never heard my granddad talk to me like this. It was quite a day of revelations. “Well, thanks.”

“Don't thank me for telling the truth. Now what's your plan?”

“About that . . . I don't really have one yet.”

Gramps got up and sent me a disapproving look. “Get on it. Woman like that doesn't come on the market but once in your lifetime. If she recognizes you for the good man you are, you need to do like that singer says.”

“What singer?”

“That hot number from Houston that never wears pants, married to the rapper, sings pretty good.”

“Beyoncé?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “That's the one. She says if you like it, then you need to put a ring on it. That's what you need to do, Carter, you put a ring on it.”

He'd been watching VH1 again. “All right, Gramps. A ring on it. I'm going to work on that.”

The intercom on the office phone buzzed again. “Ms. Montgomery on line two,” Shawn announced.

“Tell her I'll be one second.” I got up and went around the desk to hug my grandfather.

He slapped me on the back. “I'm going to head out, go to that pretty townhouse you bought for me, and watch your life unfold on
SportsCenter
.”

“You're having a little bit too much fun with this, Gramps.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, I am. Gonna get me some great-grandkids before too long. I'd like a girl the first time out if you can manage it.”

I was at a loss for words. “You might be getting a little further down the road than Kit-Kat and me. But I'll keep that in mind.”