Long Pass Chronicles 02 - Canning the Center (5 page)

Jamal smiled back. He wouldn’t be getting too friendly with Boogaloo’s sister, period. End of story. Jesus, was there a back door to this situation? He followed the big guard out of the locker room.

On the short drive to the restaurant in Boogaloo’s Range Rover, they listened to 50 Cent, and Jamal stared out the window. What could he do?

Boogaloo pulled into the parking lot beside a low-rise building. “You hear anything about what’s going on with Shields?”

“No. It’s like he vanished. One day biggest center in the sport, next day poof.”

“Yeah, but I think ‘poof’ is the right word.”

Shit.
Watch your mouth, Jamal.
“He sure is gone.”

Boogaloo turned off the car and got out his side. Jamal slid out the other.
Find a new line of conversation.

Boogaloo wouldn’t let up. “They must have said something.”

“What? Oh, just what I told you. Too busted up to play.”

They walked toward the building. Boogaloo paused and stared at Jamal. “What I think is Shields had a hard-on for West and Jet complained to Coach. Got the fag tossed off the team.”

Jesus, could that be true?
“They always seemed like good friends to me.”

“Yeah, well, I think Jet finally got the deal. At first I thought Shields was on the down low, but he’s a regular fruit.”

Jamal frowned. “Whether he is or not, he’s gone, so let’s go meet the women.”

“There’s my man.” Boogaloo looped an arm around Jamal’s neck and pulled him toward the door, but when he got there, he stopped and pulled a plastic pill bottle from his pocket. He popped one, swallowed dry, then put it away.

Jamal frowned. “You okay, Boogie?”

“Oh yeah, man. Just for the pain, you know. I don’t like to worry Lavinda, so that’s why I took it here.”

“Did you get hurt bad?”

Boo grinned. “Hell, every damned day. Come on.”

Inside the small upscale restaurant, Boogaloo walked past the hostess and looked around until an arm went up from a booth in the back. “There they are. Come on. You’re gonna love Lavinda.”

It wasn’t fair to the women in the booth, but Jamal felt about as much like meeting them as facing the Inquisition. As they got close, one of the girls stood up and extended her arms. “Hi, darlin’.” She was medium height and gave new meaning to “curvy.” Boobs, hips, booty all over the place and very pretty.

Boogaloo stepped in and gave her a kiss on the lips, then turned back to Jamal. “This beauty queen is my girl, Sasaundra.”

Jamal stuck out his hand, and she took it with a little simper. “Oh my, Boo, where you been keepin’ him?”

“Jamal’s the new starting center on the Diablos, honey. I told you.” Boogaloo seemed to have missed the rhetorical nature of her question. He turned to the other woman at the table. “This is my sister, Lavinda.”

The girl—she wasn’t more than twenty or twenty-one, probably—stood and extended a graceful hand with long fingers and zero nail polish. Beside Sasaundra’s inch-long red claws, she looked like a nun. “My pleasure.”

Jamal took her hand. She must have been six feet tall, with a slim body if you didn’t count the round hips and thighs that spoke of beauty queen. Her hair was as simple as her nails, cut close to her head, and her long neck was set off by huge hoop earrings that looked expensive. He told himself he liked girls as much as he liked guys—almost—and this woman ought to prove that theory, because she was gorgeous. “I’m pleased to meet you. Your brother speaks so highly of you.”

Boogaloo slapped him on the shoulder. “See, what’d I tell you? Classy.”

She smiled and let her eyes travel over him. In another woman, it might have been sexual, but this was a lot more appraising, like she wanted to burrow under his skin to see what color his blood was. He fought a shiver.

Jamal sat next to Lavinda on her side of the booth, facing Boogaloo and Sasaundra. He nodded at Boogie. “You and I are no different. I’m just a lower-middle class dude who was lucky enough to go to college on football scholarships.”

“Yeah, man, but you grew up in some beach town while I was trying to get out of South Central. And you went to SCU. Shit, that takes brains and talent.”

Jamal turned to Lavinda. “Tell your brother he’s a classy dude too.”

She smiled coolly. “I’d never stroke his ego like that.”

He swallowed. “So do you work or go to school?”

“I’m a senior at UCLA.”

“Great school. Of course, we tried to cream them in football when I was at SCU. But I gotta love UCLA now since my best friends are in art school there.” The words were out before he could grab them. The woman made him nervous. He sipped from his water glass.

She tilted her pretty head. “Really? What are their names? I know a lot of the art school students.”

He sipped again. “Not likely. They only go part time, I think.”

Boogaloo buttered a roll from the bread basket. “Yeah, I want to know who my man calls his best friends.”

“Uh, Will Ashford and Noah Zajack.”

He chewed slowly and glanced at Lavinda. “Ashford? That’s the guy that got hounded out of SCU, right?”

Jamal shook his head. “He got injured playing football and quit. He’d always wanted to be an artist, so he gave up football for art.” There was a fuckload more to that story, but he was so not sharing it.

Boogaloo nodded. “Yeah, but he was quarterback at SCU, right? Shit, who gives up that kind of position? Man, he’d have had it made. Your pal must’a got hit in the head too many times.”

Change the fucking subject
. “Yeah, he needed a better guard.” He turned to Lavinda. “Did you hear your brother’s going to be a center? About time he got a good position.”

She laughed just as the waiter came up, and they all ordered. One thing he really liked about being in the NFL was being able to afford steak.

When the waiter left, Boogaloo asked, “Who’s gonna train me? You?”

“I guess. Nobody’s told me.” He smiled at Boogaloo’s date. “So Sasaundra, what do you do?”

“I’m a hair stylist.” That explained the elaborate arrangement of braids she had decorating her pretty head.

He smiled. “You’re good at it.”

“Thank you.” She turned to Boo. “Tell us how the season’s gonna shape up so I know how to bet in the salon pool.”

Boogie took off on an elaborate explanation of the teams and their strengths and weaknesses. Pretty good evaluation, actually.
Wonder if Trixie’s appearing at the Cellar tonight?
Maybe I could get there after dinner?

“Jamal?” Boogaloo had a little crease between his eyebrows.

“What? Sorry, just thinking about the Broncos.”

“Yeah, so who do you think has the best chance this season—besides us, of course?”

“Seattle looks really good, but you can’t count out Phoenix.” The waiter brought their food, and they fell into casual conversation that bounced between football and hairdressing. Lavinda didn’t say a lot but appeared to be taking it all in. Jamal had to stop his damned leg from bouncing. What time was it? If Trixie performed, would it be late or early?

“Excuse me.” A middle-aged guy, casually dressed, stood beside the booth. “You’re Boogaloo Johnson, right?”

“Yeah, I am.” Boogie smiled big.

“I’m Harry Rayner. I’m a freelance writer. I do a couple columns on sports and a blog for the
Times
.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry. This here is my girlfriend, Sasaundra. That’s my sister, Lavinda. And, of course, beside her is the new starting center of the Diablos, Jamal Jones.”

The guy smiled. “I thought I recognized you from the press conference.”

Boogie laughed. “All us three-hundred-pound black guys look alike.”

Harry shrugged and tried to smile. “No, it’s just I’ve only seen Jamal one time. I don’t cover college sports.” He stuck out his hand, and Jamal shook it. “Do you all mind if I take a picture of our Diablos’ offensive stars enjoying an evening out? I mean, I won’t get you in trouble with the coach or anything, right?” He grinned.

Boogie glanced at his watch. “At only 8:30 p.m., you can assume this is a fully authorized event. Snap away.” He scooted near Sasaundra with a smile. She leaned across the table toward Lavinda, and Jamal wanted to hide under the table. They all smiled, and Harry took several shots with his phone camera.

“Great. That’s great. I’m looking forward to seeing you two in action at the preseason game.”

“We’ll be there.” Boogie chortled, and Harry laughed with him. The guy walked away, and Jamal let out his breath.

Boogaloo went back to his mashed potatoes. “Seems like a nice enough guy.”

Jamal nodded. “Yeah.” Nice enough to give him a fluttery stomach. He hadn’t recovered fully from the incredible crap the press had given Will.

Finally, Boogaloo ordered cheesecake, and Sasaundra sneaked mouthfuls while maintaining she never ate dessert. They split the check between the two men, even though Boogie ate and drank twice as much as anyone else. Jamal reminded himself he could afford it now. But why the fuck hadn’t he driven his own car?

Lavinda’s soft voice interrupted Boogie’s monologue on the faults of San Francisco’s offensive line. “Why don’t I take Jamal back to his hotel while you take Sasaundra home, Boogie?”

Well, hell, what did that mean? She didn’t seem like the kind of girl to want sex on the first date.

Boogie flashed the pearlies. “The question is, do I trust this brother with my sister?”

She gazed at him levelly. “You have nothing to say about it. I’m trustworthy, and handsome as Jamal may be, I suspect he is resistible, so that’s the plan if he agrees.”

Jamal nodded. Which would get him out of there quicker? Definitely Lavinda. “Sure, that would be great, thank you.”

Boogaloo jumped up as Jamal rose and stepped aside to let Lavinda out of the booth. “Okay, well, be careful and, you know, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

His little sister seemed to fluster Boogaloo.
Easy to understand
.

She laughed. “That gives me more leeway than I plan on exercising this life, brotha. Good to see you, Sas. Come on, Jamal.” She turned and gave him a full-on view of one of the most awe-inspiring asses ever created. This woman could bring a line of brothers to their knees with a stroll across the room. Interestingly, he didn’t feel like one of them.

She drove a black Corvette. “A gift from Boogie.” With a beep, she unlocked the car, then gave him a glance. “It has more leg room than it looks like. Boogaloo tested it. Although I think you’re taller.” She walked around the car matter-of-factly and opened her door.
Okay
.

He folded himself into the passenger side. “You’re right. It’s pretty roomy.”

She turned toward him. “I want to apologize to you.”

“Why?”

“I know my brother cooked up this whole thing, and probably with zero agreement from you.”

Be diplomatic. “Not entirely.”

She laughed.

Jamal smiled. “Does he do this to you often?”

“No, not at all. He seems to feel we’re a match made in heaven.” Her cool brown eyes appraised him.

Shit
. “I’m not, uh, completely on the dating market.”

“Ah, I see. Boogie said you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

Boogie should keep his trap shut. “It’s a new relationship. Not quite in the girlfriend category yet.” Or at all, ever.

She cocked her head and started the car. “I see.”

The conversation slowed to zero as they drove out of the parking lot and toward the hotel. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “I came of my own free will—but he was pretty intent on getting me here.”

“We’ve taken you away from another engagement, I think?”

“Uh, not exactly.”

More silence and not totally the comfortable kind. Finally she pulled into the hotel drive and stopped in front of the entrance.

“I hope we didn’t mess up your evening too much.”

God, say something nice
. “No, I enjoyed myself. You remind me a lot of my sister.”

She laughed.

Shit
. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. But you’re beautiful and smart like my sister. There’s no higher compliment.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She raised an eyebrow. “So perhaps if this not-yet relationship doesn’t work out, we can get together again. Test out Boo’s theory about the match made in heaven.”

“Yes. Uh, that would be great. But I have to confess, I’m hoping for this relationship I have cooking to work.” He smiled, but it had to look nervous.

“Umm. Pity.”

Why did he feel like she was predicting the future?

She shrugged. “It was great meeting you.” She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Hope to see you again.”

The valet pulled open his door. “Good evening, Mr. Jones.”

“Uh, hi.” He looked back at Lavinda, who just smiled, but her dark eyes never warmed. Scarier than her brother. “Thanks again for a great evening.” And hopefully the last.

He got out and tried to look casual as he entered the hotel, crossed the lobby, and hit the button for the elevator to the garage.
Do not push down one more time.
He glanced at his watch. Was there any chance? When the doors opened, he ran to the Cadillac.
Be there. Be there. Be there
.

Chapter 4