First and Ten (14 page)

“I don’t know what the hell we are,” Rome
said, still looking a bit befuddled.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, see I don’t want to
live at home and the only way I can get out on my own is to build
my business.”

“Yet you’re not taking on new clients,” Rome
accused. “Because you wouldn’t take me on as a client.”

“I can’t now. And well.” Dani stood there,
exposed in just a button down blouse that fell just low enough to
cover her. She chewed on her bottom lip and looked up at Jerome
Speed getting the same rush she had the first time she laid eyes on
him. Only this time he wasn’t sporting a tacky suit. Now he was
standing naked with a gold towel hugging his hips with his hands
together and his lips pursed. “Honestly, I knew I wanted to sleep
with you the second I saw old whorezilla brushing fake lint off
your shoulder.”

Rome’s hands dropped to his side as a broad
smile lit up his face. “Did you now?”

“Yes, okay, and I couldn’t take you on if any
part of me wanted to…well take you on in other ways. Trust me, the
last thing I wanted to do was turn you down as a client. Even with
finals around the corner, I would have loved the commission from
you this summer.”

“Well we’ve done it, you want me to be your
client now?”

“Yeah, see that won’t work.” She smiled and
stood on her tiptoes and took his face in her hands to bring him
down for a good long kiss. “I can get over physical attraction
easily. And if you would have been a moron or a conceded asshole, I
could have totally taken you on as a client, but no.”

Rome reached up and took the phone that was
pressed to his face since it was still in her hand and tossed it on
the bed.

“I need that.”

“Well, if we’re gonna be talking about needs,
I have a couple left.”

“Where exactly are you heading off to?”
Dalton asked as they were getting dressed after practice a few
weeks later.

“When did we start fucking?” Rome joked as he
buttoned up his shirt.

“I’ve noticed a trend over the last few weeks
with you.” Dalton pulled his t-shirt over his massive six-ten
frame. “On Tuesdays you dress up.”

“Jealous they don’t make this shirt in ogre
size?” Rome fussed with the cuffs before snatching a tie that was
hanging on a hook in his locker.

“I know a certain woman who doesn’t pick up
her phone on Tuesdays.”

“Your point.”

“My point is this woman keeps said phone on
her twenty-four seven and yet a few weeks ago I couldn’t reach her
for a significant amount of time.”

“Who gave you the word a day calendar?”

“Are you a client of Danika Albright, Mr.
Speed?” Dalton asked as he held an imaginary microphone in front of
him.

“No, I am not,” Rome replied with a smirk as
he held in the fact that she doesn’t sleep with clients.

Bringing the fake mic back to him, Dalton
continued his probing questions. “Now what other reason would have
said Danika Albright, multitalented, sexy as hell stylist to the
stars—”

“And in your case, burnt out meteors.”

“Have to be in your house?” Dalton thrust his
hand in front of Rome’s face.

“Who said she was in my house?”

“Come on, no one’s paying attention to us,
are you hittin’ that?”

Rome looked over his left shoulder, then his
right. For once Dalton wasn’t pretending. The locker room was a
ghost town. How long had he taken in that shower? “When did you
turn into a twelve-year-old-girl?”

“Girls don’t ask that.”

“Gossiping dumb ass,” Rome lowered his voice
for the few stragglers. “Look, we’ve been seeing each other,
okay.”

“That’s such bullshit. I’ve been trying to
get in that forever. Tell the truth? You think it’s my size?”
Dalton smoothed down his shirt.

“Maybe it’s because you refer to her as
that.”

“Just tell me one thing,” he began.

“Not with her.”

“That’s fucked up. My job is to make you look
good and you can’t even tell me if I’d been wasting my dirty
thoughts on her.”

“Let’s not talk about the fantasies you have,
it will extend your life expectancy by a few decades.”

“Holy shit,” Dalton yelled then put his hands
around his mouth to make it a bullhorn as if he needed any help.
“Jerome Speed is pussy whipped.”

“Wow, you’re twelve.” Rome slapped Dalton
upside his head. “I’m going now to have an adult conversation with
an adult.”

“You know she’s like barely twenty.”

“Twenty-six has her closer to the thirty then
twenty.”

“Damn, I thought it was black that don’t
crack. I need to get on Dani’s skin regime.”

It had been decided that any relationship
between Rome and Dani would have to be limited. Neither wanted it
that way, but he was just hitting his last few days of freedom
before camps started and she had finals coming up in a few weeks
when they had met. Timing was a son-of-a-bitch. Followed by her
finding a new place to live. Had it not been for Candace, Rome
would have offered up his bed if for no other reason than to wake
up next to Dani each morning. Candace hadn’t burned him, she
scorched him and left his carcass for dead. At least with Danika,
he was secure in the knowledge she wasn’t holding out for a
million-dollar sperm donation. Nope, she had little interest in
anything besides moving out and finding her passion.

Tuesdays had become his favorite day of the
week. Three or four hours with Dani before she had to go home. His
schedule wasn’t helping when it came to limiting time. OTAs had
started so he could barely make it back to the city. Meeting
halfway gave them a chance at new places, her normal Tuesday rule,
but it limited the physical connection he not only craved, but
needed.

“Jerome,” Candace’s voice grated on him as he
left the practice facility. Why couldn’t it just be a fan needing
an autograph. “I know you hear me.”

“And yet—” he was ready to give her is
patented I don’t give a fuck speech when he turned and saw DeMonte
standing next to her with his tiny hand wrapped around hers. This
wasn’t the first time she’d been there at the end of his day, but
it was the first time he’d seen his son in real life. She’d brought
a trump card he couldn’t ignore.

“This crap with the lawyers has to stop,” she
said as she walked toward him and he waved off security. DeMonte
stayed silent with wide eyes as he looked up at Rome’s massive
frame. “Look, I found someone else who’s willing to raise him. Why
can’t you let him go?”

“You’re the one demanding child support.”

“So, if I drop that part you’ll stop your
case?”

No, in no uncertain terms. He could see
himself in the eyes of his child. His father had abandoned him
until he started showing out in high school ball. Then suddenly he
was around again. This baby didn’t have his father and whoever was
his stand in would have hate and resentment for the child of Jerome
Speed. He’d seen it before. These damn jersey chasers getting their
baby then going back to the man they love only to have him feel
less than the father. Jerome wasn’t some god, but in the world they
live in athletes were, especially ones that were franchise
players.

“Now what are the chances you’d give up the
money?” Jerome asked, tamping down his feelings and wanting to
scoop up his kid and take him away. “Because, Candace, in the last
two years I haven’t seen you walk away from a dollar bill.
Something tells me this won’t be any different.”

“At least let me move out of state. It’s
bullshit that I have to get your approval to leave.”

“You want to move to Georgia. That’s not
across the toll way to East Chicago. That’s a time zone away. He’s
starting school soon. I want to be there for that.”

“You haven’t been anywhere for him since the
day he was born.”

“Now we’re back to this. I’m a bad dad
because you won’t give me access to my son. Didn’t even tell me he
was coming. No, you can’t throw that on me. I’m not psychic. I
can’t just feel a shift in the weather and know, a whor—” Rome
caught himself. DeMonte may be standing quietly and only three, but
he heard every word and no matter what she called him, Rome wasn’t
going to disparage his mother in front of him. “And know that
Candace is pregnant.”

“You don’t even know him. You might not want
to deal with him.”

“He looks uncontrollable,” Rome said as he
held out his fist for the boy to bump which he did, then curled in
closer to Candace’s leg. “Can we set up a time to have me meet him?
Go out to dinner or to a park?”

“What about now? I’m free, he’s here.”
Candace looked down at DeMonte and pulled him from her leg. “Boy,
knock that off. Say hi to your daddy.”

“Hi, sir,” he replied softly.

“He’s a little shy when he meets new people.”
She pushed him toward Rome. “Give him a hug. That’s your daddy not
some stranger, geez, child.”

Rome knelt down, but kept his hands at his
side. DeMonte sized him up and stepped closer only to fall on him
when Candace gave him another shove. Rome wrapped his arms tight
around his child and the connection he made just from looking at
his picture was nothing like holding his boy in his arms. Standing
up with DeMonte, the boy didn’t do the normal wrap the legs around
the belly. Instead he let his legs dangle, but did put his arm
around his shoulders.

“What do you think, little man? You think you
look like me?” DeMonte nodded then snuggled in a bit tighter. “Want
to see what an NFL locker room looks like? You like football?’

“I don’t know,” DeMonte replied meekly and
Rome’s heart ached.

“How about I show you around for a minute and
then we go out to dinner? What do you like to eat?”

“McDonald’s,” DeMonte said as Rome put him
down and took his hand.

“MickyD’s, I don’t know about that, son, but
we’ll find a good burger place.”

“This mean you’re gonna let me move out of
state?” Candace asked with her hand on her hip and attitude on her
face.

“You can move whenever you want,” Rome said
as he looked back at her and kept his voice light enough to not
scare his kid, but still get his point across. “He, on the other
hand, ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“You could be traded and then who’d have the
upper hand.”

Rome turned and balled up his fist. “You’ve
had the upper hand from the second you got knocked up. Don’t act
like some innocent victim here. I want to know my son. You can be
part of the problem or the solution. Either way, don’t play it off
like you’ve been Mary Sunshine and Mother Teresa all wrapped up in
the Madonna’s cloak.”

“Maybe we’re too busy to hang out with you
today. Let me check with my lawyer.”

“I had stuff to do tonight, but I’m willing
to pass on it to create a relationship with DeMonte.”

If Candace could even understand what he was
giving up maybe she’d cut him some slack. As he looked into her
dark brown eyes, he realized she had no comprehension of love or
loyalty. Whoever she was following to Georgia was not only a fool,
but a damn fool. She was out for herself and no one else. As he
looked down at the little boy standing next to him, he wondered how
much money it would take to make Candace go away forever. Right
now, DeMonte had the potential of being a monthly paycheck. Even
though he was dressed in a white polo shirt, khaki shorts, and a
pair of Jordan’s today, Rome doubted this was the child’s usual
dress. Today he looked like he belonged to one of the players.

“Candace, I’m going to play as nice as I can
with you. What you did to DeMonte and me is foul on so many levels
I lost count. Three years of random photos sent to me at your
leisure can’t make up for the fact this kid looks at me like a
stranger.”

Candace crossed her arms and glared at him.
“I did what was best for my son. To keep him safe.”

“My lawyer says he’s been off and on
assistance since birth. How did you manage that with me as his
father?”

“I didn’t list you. In fact, if it wasn’t for
the state demanding I try to go after a father, I wouldn’t have
even started this shit. I have a real man now.”

“A real man, huh? And you’re still livin’
with your mama in Roseland and using state services?”

“My mama is good people.” Candace’s hand flew
in emphasis. “Don’t worry, she won’t be living in Roseland
soon.”

“She movin’ to Georgia too?”

“No, but your child support should be more
than enough to buy her a nice house somewhere else.”

“You know what the most f—” Rome caught
himself as he looked down at DeMonte. “I tried to buy her a home
and you said no. I’m not with you for the money. You lie like it’s
an Olympic event. You’re probably moving to Alaska not Georgia. Has
anything you’ve ever said been true?”

“DeMonte’s your son and there ain’t no more
truth I owe you than that.”