First and Ten (22 page)

“I’ve got to fix some things.”

“As long as you’re here for mini-camp, I
don’t care.” Coach started up the video again. “I am impressed you
showed up for OTAs, most vets don’t do that.”

“I love the Grizzlies. I want to be here
until I retire.”

“Stop lighting up QBs and I’ll see what I can
do,” Coach said. “Is Guthry that big of a shit?”

“Guthry’s twenty-three and a millionaire
after being raised in an upper class suburb.” Rome stood. “This is
probably the first team his daddy couldn’t buy him the starting
spot. He’s got skill, but he’s had too many people blowing sunshine
up his ass when it comes to his ability.”

“What makes you say that?” Coach asked,
leaning back in his chair.

“He has no respect for the men who keep the
defense from killing him.”

Coach Marshall nodded his head as his lips
pushed out. “You think you’ll have him in shape by the first
pre-season game?”

“Marcum hits harder than most, but with him
on the bubble…I don’t know.”

“Keep it off the field and never leave a
mark.” Coach waved Rome out of the room, then casually added. “Last
time I checked, you didn’t get fined for putting hot sauce in a
man’s jock.”

Loading up her car on Saturday morning, Dani
had never felt less sure of herself. Going into the city to the
stores on Michigan Ave had been her weekly ritual long before she’d
taken up personal shopping. Her mother had been her guide
initially, then Tawny, and now she was the guide in a way. Back to
Reguletti’s, she parked her car for the day and made her way
through the early morning throngs of people. By the confused stares
and jerking stops outside the shops, Saturdays tended to be more
tourists than people going to work.

With a tug, she opened the glass doors and
received the normal greetings from the clerks as she made her way
to the fifth floor. Setting her off balance, Marco immediately
pulled her into a tight hug as she exited the elevator.

“Is this a new sales technique?” she choked
out trying to find her breath. “Personal touch does not mean
personally touching.”

“Hush, you’re grieving. Why didn’t you tell
me you’d gotten so close to him?”

“Who?” she asked as she attempted to
extricate herself from his arms only to be pulled in tighter.

“That Speed Demon of Love.”

“Oh dear Lord, not you too.” Dani physically
pulled his arms from around her this time and held them in front of
him. “Marco, it’s all a lie and twisted. I promise. I had been
celebrating finishing a final with Esme.”

“You looked pretty lonely in that
picture.”

“I was sobering up so I could drive home.
Also sending you my order for today. Any chance you have that set
up?” Dani proceeded to walk toward the suite set up for personal
clients and getting back to business.

“Would I fail you?” he exclaimed with his
hand to his chest. “Please, I even talked to management and got
chocolates and champagne since we are entertaining the ladies
today. Not that I blame you for—”

“Marco, I have no problem with men or Jerome
Speed. We’re good.” Her voice wobbled a bit on that last statement
because it was going on the third day with no contact. She knew he
was busy with football since they would be going from OTAs to
mini-camp, then a dozen other responsibilities including photo
shoots in the new uniforms and all the promo required for the next
season. Still, not even one response. She shook off the insecurity.
You’re my woman.
He said it, he meant it. He didn’t need a
person pestering him. The last seventy-two hours she’d had enough
of that from paparazzi trying to make more out of nothing. What did
it matter who an athlete was with? As long as they didn’t make
themselves an issue, they should stay hidden behind the scenes
supporting their man. That Dani could do in spades, but she was
starting to wonder why she was being ignored. He should be home
today. Showing up at his brownstone wouldn’t seem desperate or
weak. Would it?

“Still sleeping with clients I see,” Ramona
with her poorly dyed hair said as she approached Dani and
Marco.

“I laid out crosses and garlic, how did you
get in here?” Marco hissed at Ramona.

“She does look a little scorched,” Dani
pointed out as she batted her eyes innocently then waved her hand
in front of her face. “Or is that her perfume. Ramona it’s a
spritz, not a spray. Unless you’re fighting off mosquitos one
little squirt will do you.”

“Funny,” Ramona sneered and held a phone up
to Dani’s face with a picture of Rome helping Candace out of his
car with a second picture of him opening his front door for her.
“Are you sure you’re not smelling your desperation? You were all
over him last time he was here.”

“What was the commission you got off my
improvements to his outfit?”

“My suggestions were better.”

“Let’s agree to disagree. Yours were better
for a wide receiver. Know your audience. Jerome is a running back.
Quiet, hardworking, and doesn’t like showboating.”

“And yet you’ve showboated him all over the
damn place, haven’t you? Oh wait, that’s not you with him is it?”
Ramona swiped across her screen a few more times. “Not you, not
you, not…oh that one is you, but he’s not in it.”

“How is Mason?” Dani countered, knowing Marco
had given her all the dirt. Not only had Mason dumped Ramona, he
was a conman who emptied her bank accounts in the process. Luckily,
he hadn’t gotten close enough to Dani to find out who her father
was or he’d probably would have stayed. Dani should have seen
through him in the whirlwind romance where her clients awed him.
“Still using your birth date as his own ATM code?” Ramona turned on
her heel and headed back to the netherworld she came from. Marco
gave Dani a golf clap, then brought out his treats for her
clients.

The day was draining on so many levels.
Trying to keep her head up with each client giving her condolences
for her troubles. They praised her for being strong and even called
her an inspiration. Maybe she should have told them all the truth.
That she was with Rome and Candace was a distant memory, but the
picture Ramona showed her ate away at her resolve. New pictures
were showing up with each client, even though they’d all been
victims of Down and Dirty’s scandals at one time or another
themselves. By four-thirty, Dani needed answers and she was going
straight to the source.

Rome sat across from Candace in his living
room. His hand covered his eyes as he attempted to calm down enough
to deal with her. It had been three days of tracking her down and
using the damn photographer to do it. He’d been hoping to break his
nose as well as a few other body parts to get the information. Now
he’d spent an hour with her explaining the whys and not one of them
made sense.

“What part of your messed up brain makes you
think that would ever be possible?” he asked when he felt his blood
pressure was low enough to handle her response. Had she really told
him she wanted to be back with him?

“Please, Rome, I know that girl isn’t some
Becky bitch and her daddy’s money is tempting, but we have a kid
together.” Candace stood and stepped toward him only to have him
hold up his hand to stop her.

“Sit. Do not touch me, do not look at me, do
not think about me. You’ve hid my child from me for years. Then
give me a few hours with him. Was there ever another guy?”

“At one point, but I didn’t like the way he
treated DeMonte.”

“Who? And how did he treat my son?”

“Look, I thought about it. It would be better
if DeMonte and I lived here.”

“You are delusional if you think I’d ever let
you back in my home.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” she mused and held
her left hand up to admire her ring. “You did buy me this, you
know.”

“Because you used DeMonte’s child support,”
he figured. “Where is my son?”

“Where I want him to be,” she challenged.
“You’re not taking him from me. He’s mine.”

“Don’t make me get child and family services
involved in finding my son.”

“They wouldn’t get involved,” Candace’s voice
trembled as she frantically looked around the room. “I’m a good
mother. I. Am. A. Good. Mother.”

“I’ve been paying child support. That gives
me rights.” The doorbell rang and Rome held back his smile.

“What the hell is going on, Rome?” Candi
asked as he got up and answered his door.

Standing in a three-piece suit, Stanton Meeks
extended his hand to Rome who shook it and let him in. The man met
him height wise, but he had a brick like build to him as any good
Chicagoan should.

“I’ve got the paperwork you asked for and
I’ve contacted Ms. Powell’s attorney. He said he’s more than happy
to charge her weekend rates to get this whole thing settled.”

“Oh hell no.” Candace stormed from the living
room to the foyer right as her lawyer rang the doorbell. “I’m not
getting charged for this shit. Rome and I can figure it out
together. The way it should be.” Candace wrapped her arm around his
waist and placed her hand on his chest. “Isn’t that right,
baby.”

“Bitch, if you don’t remove those claws from
my body right now—” Rome stepped to the side and opened the door to
find another suit standing there. “Please come in. We can go to my
dining room and get this settled here and now.”

“Ms. Powell,” the attorney said as he entered
with a nod. “I was informed we’ve come to a resolution.”

“Misinformed. Let’s go.” Candace clutched the
man’s upper arm and started to lead him out of the house when
Stanton stepped in.

“Libel and slander carry heavy fines in
Illinois. More than my client is paying you monthly.”

“What charges?” her attorney asked, stopping
her from dragging him from the house. He put his hands on her upper
arms and looked at her as her head twitched from side to side.
She’d been caught and she knew it. Rome was done playing games with
her.

“Let’s sit down and have a discussion,”
Stanton offered and her attorney looked at his client, then
followed Rome and Stanton into the dining room.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” he said, not sitting.
Instead, he chose to stand with his hands on the top of a
chair.

“Your client has not only insinuated mine had
been unchaste, but that he was in fact engaged to her when said
moral breech occurred.”

“And?”

“And, Mr. Puckett, she supplied false
information to the media as well as setting up photo ops without my
client’s permission.” Stanton took out a tablet and had the images
pulled up for Mr. Puckett to review. “In addition, she filed claims
with child and family stating he hadn’t fulfilled his parental
duties when it came to support of his child. My client has every
image and text she ever sent him, including the ones where she was
out of state with an unknown man holding his child, saying and I
quote,
a real man will raise a child even if it’s not his own
blood,
end quote. She’s taunted and dangled this child in front
of him for years, never once asking for support until recently. He
complied immediately and even offered to pay back the state for the
money used to support the child.”

“This proves nothing. Slander is a hard case
to prove.”

“Libel’s easier, especially in the electronic
age.”

“You haven’t shown me malice.” The attorney’s
brow furrowed.

“Mr. Speed, up until a few days ago was in a
relationship with a woman.”

“Was,” Candace said with a satisfied
laugh.

“Malice is pretty obvious,” Stanton said. “My
client wasn’t asking for full custody, but after we spoke to the
photographer in question, it seems the only right course to take
for the sake of the child.”

“You’re never home,” Candace countered. “I’m
his mother. He loves me, you can’t take him away from me. You want
him full time you have to marry me.”

“Where’s my son?” Jerome howled as he slammed
his fist on the table. “You’re hiding him.”

“For his own safety. Look at you,” she said
with her hand outstretched. “You’ve got anger management problems.”
When she reached for her phone Rome locked his hand around her
wrist and they stared into each other’s eyes. She might have
actually gotten the point because she swallowed hard.

“Let her go,” Stanton advised. “Ms. Powell,
if you need to make a phone call please wait until we are
done.”

“Oh, she wasn’t going to make a call,” Rome
said. “Were you, Candi?”

“You don’t know me.”

“But I do, you have the camera on now, don’t
you?”

“So what if I do. What you goin’ do about
it?”

“Okay, let’s take a break,” Mr. Puckett said
and Rome dropped Candi’s wrist. “Candace, give me the phone.”

“Why, you ain’t never done anything with the
stuff I gave you.”

“What you gave me had no merit on the case. I
told you that.” The attorney looked at Rome. “Is there a place
where I can speak to my client in private?”