Authors: Zuri Day
Love on the Run (11 page)
17
Shayna squinted as her eyes adjusted from the bright outdoor sunlight to the subdued lighting of the downtown warehouse. When Michael told her where she'd be meeting Choice for the track suit fitting, Shayna had been a bit surprised at the location. After Googling Chai Fashions on the Web, she was sure they'd be meeting somewhere in Beverly Hills, possibly Rodeo Drive or some other street in the 90210 area. Instead she'd traveled down a familiar road near her alma mater, Olympic Boulevard, until she'd reached Santee Street, where she'd made a left, drove a few blocks, and parked her car in front of a nondescript corner building on the right side of the street.
Walking down a short hallway, Shayna turned into a fluorescent-lighted room filled with row after row of fabric bolts. Two long tables sat flush against the far wall, weighed down with various books, fabrics, and what Shayna guessed to be sewing accessories. Neo-soul flowed out of an iPod perched on the receptionist's desk. A voluptuous Latina with long thick black hair, sparkling black eyes, and a pleasant smile greeted her. “Hello. May I help you?”
“I'm here for a meeting with”â
Choice or Chai?
â“Chai Fashions.”
Choice or Chai?
â“Chai Fashions.”
“Sure.” The receptionist nodded, reaching for the phone at the same time. “And you are?”
“Shayna Washington.”
“Choice, Shayna's here.” The receptionist pointed toward a hall. “All the way down that hall, last room on your left.”
Shayna walked in the direction the receptionist had pointed, noting that the rooms on both sides of the hall were filled with sewing machines, sewing accessories such as thread, buttons, zippers, and the like, and mounds and mounds of fabric. As she neared the last door on the right, she heard the sound of Michael's laughter.
“Hey, guys,” Shayna said upon entering the room. She was a bit taken aback at Chai otherwise known as Choice's markedly different appearance. Gone was the long hair (which Shayna now knew was a wig, not a weave), the oversized shirt, skinny pants, and clunky jewelry. Chai had obviously left the building. Today Choice wore a simple, formfitting jean dress with flat gladiator sandals. Her hair was short, natural, and dyed a shade of auburn that nicely complemented her skin. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, hoping that she'd successfully hid her shock at Choice's transformed appearance. “Traffic was crazy.”
“No worries,” Choice said, from behind a table where she was draping a shiny fabric over a dummy bust. “And yes, I'm the same woman you met the other night. Well, kinda sorta. You met my alter ego, who the world knows as Chai. She's out there so I can still enjoy my anonymity in my own skin.”
“You can definitely do that,” Shayna replied. “There's no way I'd know you two were the same person.” And then, “I like your hair color.”
“Thanks, girl.”
“Hello, Shayna.” Michael got up from his seat, walked over to where Shayna stood, and gave her a hug. “Wait until you see your new look. You're going to make a fashion statement on the track and start a trend in the streets.”
“I don't know about all that,” Shayna replied, not trying to hide her skepticism as she eyed the array of rhinestones and other flashy colors laid out in front of Choice. “I don't want to be out there looking like Cee-Lo Green at the Super Bowl!”
“Ha!” Choice stepped away from the bust and walked over to another table. She picked up two pieces of what looked to be a lightweight nylon fabric in understated gold, and motioned to Shayna. “Come try these on. You'll see that I incorporated your ideas about mixing fabrics. It works. The changing area is there in the corner.”
Once inside the room, Shayna made fast work of shedding her drawstring pants and cotton tee. She liked the style of the outfit Choice had designed, the way the top cropped to just below the bust, and the boy shorts curved upward to expose more thigh. They looked comfortable and nonrestrictive, and the meshlike fabric gave the sexy illusion of showing more skin than was actually being exposed. The panels of Spandex added to the design's uniqueness. She put on the garments, turned to look in the mirror, and almost gasped. The material hugged her booty in a way that gave the effect of a neon sign. “Booty here, it's Shayna's boooooty here!”
Oh. My. Goodness.
The voice of Shayna's mother, Beverly, rose up in her mind.
That girl has a ghetto booty. Her ass is huge!
The neighborhood children had added to the teasing and by the time Jarrell tried to convince her that having a large gluteus maximus was a blessing, not a curse, it was too late. Beverly's damage had already been done.
Oh. My. Goodness.
The voice of Shayna's mother, Beverly, rose up in her mind.
That girl has a ghetto booty. Her ass is huge!
The neighborhood children had added to the teasing and by the time Jarrell tried to convince her that having a large gluteus maximus was a blessing, not a curse, it was too late. Beverly's damage had already been done.
After a few moments, Choice's voice interrupted Shayna's unplanned and unwelcomed walk down memory lane. “Shayna, is everything okay?”
“Yes, it's fine.”
“Here, let me see.” Shayna heard footsteps and soon Choice was pulling back the curtain. “Whoa, baby. You are rocking that outfit!” She entered and adjusted the bottoms. “Those shorts are on point! Come on out so Michael can have a look.”
Shayna battled feelings of being modest, a new experience. Showing skin on the track field was something that the athletes rarely thought about. But now, with Michael in the other room, waiting to peruse her body up one side and down the other, she suddenly felt as though she should be wearing more clothes. These thoughts were processed in the time it took her to follow Choice out of the changing room and into the main area where Michael stood.
For a moment, Michael swore that the air left the room. Shayna walked toward him. He was positive that she had no idea the vision she presented: tight, chocolate body, toned abs, muscled legs.
Wow.
The decision he'd made to stay far and wide away from any type of romantic liaison with any of his clients battled the desire he had to sex Shayna and thus get her out of his system. He forced himself to remember his ex-client, the female basketball stalker, even bringing to mind the last time he saw the woman. All flailing arms and kicking legsâ subdued by Troy, his brother who owned a security businessâshe'd spewed words that burned his ears and launched threats that though she didn't follow through on, could have warranted her arrest. He swallowed hard, found his power, nodded his approval. “Looks good,” he said, managing to adopt a properly casual tone of voice. That is, after he found it.
Wow.
The decision he'd made to stay far and wide away from any type of romantic liaison with any of his clients battled the desire he had to sex Shayna and thus get her out of his system. He forced himself to remember his ex-client, the female basketball stalker, even bringing to mind the last time he saw the woman. All flailing arms and kicking legsâ subdued by Troy, his brother who owned a security businessâshe'd spewed words that burned his ears and launched threats that though she didn't follow through on, could have warranted her arrest. He swallowed hard, found his power, nodded his approval. “Looks good,” he said, managing to adopt a properly casual tone of voice. That is, after he found it.
And then, at Choice's instruction, she turned around.
Damn.
“Perfect,” Choice gushed, walking around her muse and admiring her skills. “This outfit looks amazing . . . if I say so myself. What about the color?” she asked Shayna. “Do you like it?”
Shayna nodded. “There are some meets with more restrictive guidelines, however. So we'd have to have the more conservative navies and blacks as part of the line.”
“No problem,” Choice said, walking back over to the table where garments were strewn. She picked up two pieces of black mesh, like the material that Shayna wore. “Try on these.”
She obliged, for not only the black two-piece but for a bright yellow iridescent, and even a pinstriped version of the same design, along with a daring one-piece for which Choice had borrowed from 1920s bathing suits for inspiration.
“Which style do you think would best suit the relay team?” Choice asked, as Shayna stood in the last look, a deep burgundy two-piece with bright pink satiny stripes up the side.
“Definitely the black or navy,” Michael interrupted. “I want the bright flashy colors to be Shayna's signature, and that swimsuit-inspired design worn by her alone.”
18
Michael pushed away the plate containing a half-eaten steak as he leaned back from the table. Along with his ability to get to sleep last night, had Shayna taken his appetite as well? He hadn't been able to get her out of his mind, that's for sure. Last night, he'd tossed and turned as visions of the one-woman fashion show danced in his head: her coy smile, graceful neck, perky boobs, taut abs, svelte hips . . . and that ass.
Lord have mercy, that ass!
Lord have mercy, that ass!
The waitress came over to refill his tea. “Mr. Morgan, would you like to see the dessert menu?”
“No, just the check, please.” There was only one kind of dessert on Michael's mind and the restaurant couldn't deliver it. He reached for his wallet as the phone rang. “Yes?”
“Hey, boss. I've got Erin Bridges on the line. She wants to confirm your attendance at tonight's benefit, as well as the RSVP for two persons.”
“Dang, I'd forgotten all about that.” Since Shayna had become his client, Michael seemed to be forgetting about a lot of things. Not like him. Not good. Not to mention the women on his electronic address book that up until a month ago he'd sexed on the regular. But this event was important. Proceeds from it would benefit some of the inner city sports programs. And his date was the marketing director for XMVP, the newest player in athlete shoes and sportswear giving Nike, Jordan, and other classic companies a run for their money. He planned to use the evening to pitch Shayna as the next spokesperson for the company and model for their running shoes. “Yes, tell Erin I'll be there, along with a guest.”
Later that evening, Michael arrived at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, squiring an extremely attractive woman on his arm. Dina DeVore was a known force to be reckoned with in the world of retail, with clout that went far beyond Fifth Avenue and Fashion Week. Like Erin Bridges, Dina DeVore came from a wealthy, influential family. She was a strong, powerful woman who knew whatâor in this case more specifically
who
âshe wanted. They were less than an hour into the evening when Michael got the memo. Figuring he'd use this obvious interest to his advantage, he steered their conversation into the reason for their meeting.
who
âshe wanted. They were less than an hour into the evening when Michael got the memo. Figuring he'd use this obvious interest to his advantage, he steered their conversation into the reason for their meeting.
“As you know,” Michael said to Dina after they'd settled into dinner, “Shayna Washington made quite a name for herself at the London Olympics. I represent her now, and think she'd be a great addition for the XMVP brand.”
“I don't know, Michael,” Dina said, flirtatiously twirling a fiery red lock around her finger. “We're interested in showcasing new faces and the track world is definitely a place to look. But our research has shown a larger popularity among male athletes. Currently, we're considering Usain Bolt, of course, along with Tyson Gay, Richard Thompson, and others.”
“Great choices,” Michael quickly agreed. “But what if I told you that a couple Hollywood execs are eyeing her for a breakout role in an upcoming movie, and what if I said that in Tinseltown one of them is the number-two man? In less than two years, Shayna Washington will be a household name. And when she takes all the gold at the next Olympics, what if she's locked into a multiyear lucrative contract and your company appears genius?”
“I'd say that you're living up to your reputation.” Dina placed a suggestive hand on Michael's thigh.
“Darling,” he drawled, deftly moving her hand by lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “You have no idea.” Then he tried to summon up the Morgan Mack, the kind he would use to seal the deal. Michael wasn't for sale, but in business deals he'd often given off the suggestion that he could be rented. That possibility alone often helped seal the deal, before the associate learned that he never mixed business with pleasure. But tonight, beyond the perfunctory kiss on the cheek upon greeting and this kiss on the hand before it moved to places off-limits, Michael couldn't seem to drum up a flirt for the life of him. With a sigh, he thought about long, toned legs, a tight, high booty, and a coy smile. Shayna. And he knew the reason.
Man, you're not going to be able to get that woman out of your system until you take her and do what comes naturally.
And just like that, it was decided. He would make sure she understood the parameters, could handle a casual fling, and then he'd scratch the itch that had been bothering him worse than a poison ivy rash ever since she'd graced his home. Michael would break his own rule. He'd sleep with America's next sports sensation, Shayna Washington. That was the bottom line.
And just like that, it was decided. He would make sure she understood the parameters, could handle a casual fling, and then he'd scratch the itch that had been bothering him worse than a poison ivy rash ever since she'd graced his home. Michael would break his own rule. He'd sleep with America's next sports sensation, Shayna Washington. That was the bottom line.
19
“I wouldn't sleep with him if we were the last two people on earth, it was subzero, and he was my only source of warmth.” Shayna paced the room as she presented a convincing argument to her audience, the girls. The roommates who were acting crazy, and daring her to seduce her manager. Why? Because she'd finally let them in on her crazy attraction and increasingly frequent fantasies. She admitted to them that for the last week she simply hadn't been able to get him out of her mind. “He's too arrogant, too used to having everybody run when he snaps his fingers. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.”
“Forget about
him,
” Talisha argued. “Sounds like you need to give
yourself
some.”
him,
” Talisha argued. “Sounds like you need to give
yourself
some.”
“You've admitted that you like him,” Brittney added, “and that you're feeling rhythm between the two of you. He's also single, gorgeous, and powerful. What more reason do you need?”
“I don't want to be like all the other women he's met. I'm sure most throw themselves at him.”
“Then don't throw yourself,” Talisha calmly replied. “Walk over to his ass all ladylike and request an appointment with his penis. I'd do him in a New York minute, faster than Trell Kimmons could run the one hundred.”
“That would be some quick nooky,” Shayna countered, “since brother man Trell is keeping it one hundred in less than ten ticks.”
“I doubt anything about a romp with Michael Morgan would be quick. . . . ” Brittney's dreamy expression made Shayna get up and deliver a playful punch to her friend's shoulder. “What?” Brittney continued in mock chagrin. “He looks like one of those long and strong kind of brothers. . . .I'm just saying.”
Talisha leaned against the bar stool. “Shayna, you keep saying that you need to get over Jarrell, that you
are
over him, right?”
are
over him, right?”
“I am over him!” Two pairs of eyes showing skepticism held her gaze. “I've forgiven him, but I haven't forgotten him,” Shayna admitted. “I've known Jarrell over my whole life, dated him for almost ten years. We were best friends forever, and I'd be lying to say that words he's pounded into me over the years aren't still playing in my headâthat no one would love me like him, treat me better than him. Just before we broke up, he reminded me of the promise I made him when we graduated high school.”
“You were just a kid,” Brittney insisted. “We all make promises when we're in puppy love. But as a woman, you should know that you have the prerogative to change your mind.”
“I know, and I agree that I'm tripping, y'all. I'm messed up! Still trying to please a mother who isn't looking out for my best interests, still thinking about a man who scratched up my face. We've only been broken up since June. That's hardly time to get over what he and I had.”
“Considering that his controlling, possessive, insecure ass cracked your ribs and bruised your face up, I'd say it was more than enough time.”
“Not to mention that he seems to have moved on.” Belatedly, Talisha realized that she may have just delivered a little TMI. “At least that's the word on the street. That he's dating some chick from his job.”
“I don't care,” Shayna said, in a voice that suggested she cared very much. “I know who she is and also know that he's been sleeping with her for months, from way before we broke up.” Which pissed her off. That she knew, that he knew she knew, that he was trying to get back with her while still sleeping with one of the women who helped break them up!
How can I still have feelings for an abuser? And why can't I seem to get past this relationship and move on?
But Shayna knew the answer to that. Her mother, Beverly. As long as she was married to Larsen, Jarrell would be in Shayna's life, as a brother-in-law at least, even if one only recognized from a distance. The situation was jacked up, but it was what it was. “Maybe y'all are right,” Shayna said with a sigh, walking over to the couch and crushing a throw pillow against her chest as she sat down. “Maybe I should have Michael Morgan sex me real good, pump Jarrell Powell, and this crazy hold he and Mom have on me, right out of a sistah's system.”
How can I still have feelings for an abuser? And why can't I seem to get past this relationship and move on?
But Shayna knew the answer to that. Her mother, Beverly. As long as she was married to Larsen, Jarrell would be in Shayna's life, as a brother-in-law at least, even if one only recognized from a distance. The situation was jacked up, but it was what it was. “Maybe y'all are right,” Shayna said with a sigh, walking over to the couch and crushing a throw pillow against her chest as she sat down. “Maybe I should have Michael Morgan sex me real good, pump Jarrell Powell, and this crazy hold he and Mom have on me, right out of a sistah's system.”
Brittney jumped off the bar chair and slapped Shayna a high five. “Check out that Master P, girlfriend,” she said with unabashed relish. “That's what I'm talking about!”
Shayna laughed at Brittney's use of their code word for penis. “Okay,” Talisha said, her natural planning skills bubbling to the surface. “Since we've decided that you're going to do the damn thing, let's make some plans. Where and how are you going to seduce him?”
“Geez, Tee, I don't know! It was only five seconds ago that I decided that I would.”
“Well, a woman has to know these things.”
“And like Brittney says, a woman has a right to change her mind. Which I think I'm doing right now.”
“Why?” Talisha demanded.
“Because I don't want to be like every other woman he's met and been able to get in his bed. I think my not giving in to him is what will make me different.”
Talisha gave Brittney a surreptitious wink. “Hmm, and you want to be different because . . . ?”
“Because I'm his client, and I don't want to cross that line. I told you guys that and now, instead of helping me be strong and stand my ground, you're trying to turn me into a . . . a . . . a floozy!”
“Ha! That's Big Mama talking right there,” Brittney said, having spent enough time at Shayna's grandmother's house to know when the dear woman had gotten in her friend's head. “Big Mama wouldn't be mad at your trying to be happy,” she continued in a softer tone. “That's all Tee and I want for you, Shay. We want to see the smile that these days is so rarely on your face. We want our girl back!”
“So if she was going to seduce him,” Talisha continued as if Shayna hadn't changed her mind, “where would it be?”
“Why not his house, after a scrumptious meal created by the
chef
?” Brittney shrugged. “Sounds like the easiest, most logical choice.”
chef
?” Brittney shrugged. “Sounds like the easiest, most logical choice.”
“Not at all,” Talisha argued. “You never want to meet the man of your mission on his home turf. You want to choose someplace neutral and impersonal, where you can be in total control.”
The room was silent as each woman pondered alternatives. Then Brittney spoke up. “Shay, didn't you say that Michael was going to the Cape Cod Classic?”
A squiggle went from Shayna's core to cootchie as she answered. “Yes, he's supposed to come and bring a potential sponsor, someone from XMVP Shoes and Sportswear.”
“Hey,” Talisha sang, dancing around the room. “Michael's going to the Cape Cod Classic and the brother's going to get some Cape Cod cootchie!”
Shayna deadpanned at Talisha. “Shut. Up.”
“Cape Cod cootchie,” Brittney sang, joining in with Talisha and dancing across the living room floor. “Some Morgan booty and some Cape Cod cootchie.”
“Y'all have no sense,” Shayna said with a frown. “I told you that I changed my mind. I'm not going to eff that man.” But she could only hold it for so long. Soon, she was laughing along with her roommates and later, thought about “Morgan booty” and “Cape Cod cootchie” well into the night.
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