The Player (3 page)

3

Harlow was bone tired when she got home. Still under the spell of Kyle McClure, she walked around aimlessly, smiling over something he’d said, how he’d looked at her, and most of all remembering his mind numbing kisses. Lots of men had come into the bar flirting and asking for her phone number. She’d smiled at their offers but didn’t pay most of them any attention, figuring she didn’t need another complication in her life. Getting burned in her first relationship after Ozzy had made her wary. But it wasn’t as if she wasn’t looking. And Harlow still held out hope that she and Ozzy would somehow become a family again. It was a silly, girlish dream, borne out of a need to be a one man woman. Moving on wasn’t exactly easy.

And now, when she least expected it a quietly confident man had entered her life, promising a new beginning. All her previous inner pep talks about men being a distraction she didn’t need, that she had to think of raising Reina before anything else, and the need to keep the bar solvent weren’t enough to stop her heart from quickening whenever she thought of Kyle. There was always the chance that she’d never see him again. After all, he was a professional football player and his lifestyle didn’t seem compatible to hers. Only, from the short time that they’d been together Harlow’s read on Kyle was that he’d enjoyed her company just as she’d enjoyed his.

“Best not to want little Harlow,” her mother, Fefe always told her. “A man will disappoint you in the end.”

She’d been too young to know what her mother meant at the time, but it had to do with making a break from her father to come to the US. Stokely Petteford was content to work at the local hotel and collect his tips. He was a simple man who believed in honest work, gardening, drinking his homebrew of
babaash
and enjoying the company of women, even those who weren’t his wife. Harlow’s mother was one of those women.

Trying to stay as quiet as possible, Harlow slipped off her shoes as she headed for the kitchen. Habit made her touch the laptop on the kitchen counter. It was still a little warm, so someone had been busy surfing the internet. If it was the sitter, then Harlow was fine with it. But if Reina had waited for the sitter to go to bed and snuck back online, she’d be grounded.

The sitter was sound asleep in Reina’s bedroom, one that doubled as the guest room while Reina was curled up in Harlow’s bed. Reina liked to sleep under the covers, as if they afforded her some protection from things that went bump in the night. The only thing visible was her daughter’s long braids.

Once she was satisfied that Reina was alright, Harlow’s thoughts returned to Kyle as she brushed her hair back so that she could secure it into a single braid.

Just thinking about Kyle McClure made her feel good after the very frightening incident with Virgil Fordham. Kyle could’ve easily gone off with that attractive duo, the groupies who were there solely for him. But he didn’t. He’d stayed to converse with her. And those kisses! They were the lip gobbling kind that left them both hungry for more, making Harlow squeeze her thighs together for fear he could smell her arousal. It was stupid to think that way, but after enough paranormal vampire reads where the heroine gave off a unique but oh so feminine scent, the thought had crossed her mind. It was time to stop reading about women having supernaturally good sex with hot vampires and getting some of that “ting” for herself. Stretching out her long legs by getting comfortable on her couch, Harlow savored a few more hours of peace until cyclone Reina awoke. Yawning as she snuggled into the cushions of her sofa, Harlow’s night had started on a serious low note. It was a night she’d just as soon forget, except for the one bright spot. Meeting Kyle McClure. With his cleft chin, heavy lidded bedroom eyes and biker long hair, Kyle was definitely a man to remember.

4

Kyle McClure was one part gladiator and one part ring master. During the football season he’d jog through a tunnel to the deafening cheers and screams of over 80,000 fans. And he loved it. With his blood pumping, Kyle psyched himself up for calling plays and a thrilling fight to finish. Moving his team downfield was physical as hell, exhilarating and stressful.

Fuck the Stress.
The highs and lows were part of the rush, like playing through pain. The competitive fire still burned brightly inside him after all these years. He had it the first time he was benched in high school, knowing full well that when the opportunity came around again, he’d fight tooth and nail to become a first stringer.

When the Raleigh Renegades held open try-outs they told him flat out that the quarterback position was filled. But that was before season ending injuries occurred with their star quarterback and his back up. Suddenly Kyle’s phone was ringing, not just because the Renegades needed to fill that position, but because ESPN had gotten wind of their desperation.

It was a storybook ending to surreal try-out. Kyle’s zippy balls found their mark, dead center of his intended receiver’s chest. Even while airing it out, both defenders and the offensive receivers bolted downfield as Kyle’s arm proved to be stronger than the naysayers. Like the saying goes,
the greatest muscle a QB has is between his ears.
So Kyle concentrated on the playbook and lived in the film room. Preparation was the key. Being highly disciplined. But most of all he had the unbreakable will to succeed. Playing football was serious work, especially since he wasn’t one of guys who’d been drafted in the first or second round. But he had the height, the speed and and ability to view the field from all angles. And that made Kyle McClure not just talented, but dangerous as a quarterback.

*****

Extra-large shoulders hunched over the bar top as the man not only protected his drink, but staked out his area. Torii Theas noticed an intricate pattern of tribal tattoos on his neck, peeking out from the collar of his shirt and extending like tentacles along his thick wrists. His whole body appeared to be covered with symbols and inscriptions. Instead of taking the empty stool next to him, she slid one seat over.

Some people would describe Torii Theas as heavy-set. Others could look at her considerable endowments and say she was most definitely “thick.” Blessed with a sparkling smile and smooth brown skin, at forty two Tori looked years younger. She still turned heads, as male drivers young and old would slowly cruise past, trying to get her undivided attention whenever she traveled around the city to her beauty supply stores. As a walking billboard for her company, Tori made sure the outfits she wore flattered her full figure. Even when she wore her hair natural, a curly Afro seemed just like another fashionable accessory that worked well with her appearance.

Harlow greeted her good friend with, “Hey boss lady, what can I do yuh for?”

“Just make me something that’ll give me a quick buzz,” Torii said. “I need a pick me up.”

“Torii, I serve alcohol here. The hard stuff.  Besides, liquor is a depressant, so how’s this for a pick me up . . . You’ve got the brownstone.”

“I-I do? That was quick.” When it finally dawned on Torii that she could move out of her mother’s cottage house, she broke into a wide smile. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank your pocketbook. You drove a hard bargain by outbidding everyone else.”

“
I’m desperate!
You know what I go through with my family. They’re like – like vultures.”

“Vultures?” Harlow couldn’t contain her laughter.

Even Darren Gillette had to chuckle over Torii’s remark, raising his glass to give her a toast. “Here’s to anyone who’s had to deal with pushy relatives.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Harlow said. “Darren Gillette, this is my friend, Torii Theas.”

Darren extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Torii.” His grasp was surprisingly gentle for such a big guy.

Torii did a double take, mumbled a couple of “um, um’s” until she finally got the nerve to ask,
“Darren
Gillette
, the football player?”

The smile on his handsome face assured her that he was. Torii’s eyes rounded in awe. Wait until she told her cousin Fiona about this! It would top Fiona’s constant bragging about meeting that BRAVO reality show contestant who’d been kicked off the show
Bad Girls
for setting fire to another contestant’s weave – all while the poor woman slept.

“Don’t worry, I had the same reaction, though it was under different circumstances,” Harlow told her friend. Then she turned to Darren with a brief rundown of Torii’s accomplishments. “Torii’s got four beauty stores with all kinds of products the woman in your life might be interested in. I lost the Businesswoman of the year award to her.”

Slightly embarrassed, Torii corrected her with, “I’ve only got three stores. But thanks for the glowing endorsement.” 

“Anytime.” Harlow told her, giving a wink to Darren. “With all those dreads, Darren might want to check out your hair products. Maybe you two should get to know one another.”

Torii’s face flushed even more as she tried to figure out a gracious way to get out of Harlow’s suggestion. “I-I’m sorry. I’m actually seeing someone right now. He . . . well he talks about the team all the time, and you’re one of his favorite players, Mr. Gillette.”

That surprised Harlow, especially since Torii never mentioned she was seeing anyone. “Okay, sorry about that.” She gave Darren a grimace of sympathy. “I should’ve kept my big mouth shut. How about a drink on the house?”

Darren pushed his empty glass her way. “Fill ‘er up another time pretty lady, I need to head out.”

Torii didn’t say anything, but the way Darren beamed a smile at Harlow, and all their joking and smiling during his goodbyes . . . well, it was clear that he was interested in her.

Darren tapped Torii on the shoulder as he walked past. “Good night to you too, pretty lady.”

Torii got tongue tied, but not before wishing she’d let Harlow continue her match making. Darren’s leggy stride out of the bar had both women watching his tall, fine brown frame. “Does he come in here often?” Torii asked, knowing full well that she sounded breathless.

“Oh yes.” Harlow said, echoing her friend’s breathy tone. “But I’m mad at you! Look at that man! You two would make a cute couple.”

“No, you two make a very good looking couple.”

“What yuh sayin’?”

“Harlow, that man only has eyes for you. Can’t you see that?”

“No, you’re wrong. I’m already talking to Kyle, his teammate.”

“THE Kyle McClure? The quarterback?”

Harlow gave her a smug look. “Oh, so you’ve heard of him.”

“
Day-yamn my sista . . . I didn’t know you were such a playa. Playa.”

“I’m not a playing anyone. I’m just having a little fun, that’s all.”

“So am I.” Torii glanced around and over her shoulder, making sure they couldn’t be overheard. “And I can’t want to tell you all about him!”

*****

Kyle stopped by later on in the evening and also the next, until Harlow reminded him that Wednesdays and Thursdays were the nights she usually took off. “It’s okay, I know you’re not used to this,” Harlow teased. “I’m sure most ladies adjust to your schedule. Just like women are usually tossing out their phone numbers without you asking.”

Publically shamed, Kyle lowered his head. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope. I like seeing you squirm.”

“It’s true. I’ve got no game at all,” he admitted, peeking up at her through bashful eyes.

She wasn’t buying his
woe is me act
. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You did well enough to get my number. And I even threw in a bunch of kisses.”

“So I didn’t completely mess this up?”

“No, you did not. Though I was a little curious when you didn’t ask for my cell phone number that first night, until I realized it was some sort of psychological ploy.”

His demeanor and voice turned serious. “I don’t do stuff like that. And I don’t like anyone doing that kind of shit to me.”

“Um, stuff like what?”

“I don’t like fucking with someone’s head. I’ve been on the other end of that type of craziness. It’s not something I want to deal with again.”

“Good to know,” she said, trying to get him to lighten up. “I was only kidding about you trying to psych me out.”

“I know. But I wanted you to know that I wouldn’t do that to you or anyone else.” His stare was so earnest and direct she decided to stop teasing him about it. After wiping down the bar and preparing a few more drink orders, Harlow took a deep breath and approached him with a question she’d wanted to ask all night. “Why your knuckles bruised and who did you hit?”

Kyle raised his glass to his lips, making her wait for the answer. “I punched out Virgil.”

“Kyle!”

“Don’t act so shocked. He had it coming.”

“When did this happen?”

“During practice. That’s when it usually does.”

He wasn’t being as forthcoming as she liked with his explanation. “So was it during the heat of the moment? Or something else? Because I did file that restraining order.”

“I know. And yeah, he wasn’t happy about it so he had a few things to say in my presence.”

“But . . . didn’t you say people watch the team practice?”

“This one was closed. And it was more like I confronted him in the locker room, not on the field.”

Still didn’t make it right, though she did get a little satisfaction from knowing Virgil didn’t get away with saying whatever he felt
. Kyle’s face wasn’t bruised, so she wondered how he managed that. “So you got in a punch, and he didn’t punch you back?”

“No.” After another gulp, a slight smile played upon his lips. “He had a number of things to say about . . . black women, only he made the mistake of doing it in front of me, and Darren, and most of the defense. Those guys are huge, so they got in a lot more punches than me.”

Her reaction shouldn’t have been laughter, but it was.
“What is wrong with that guy?
Does he hate everything and everyone?”

“No, I think it’s just himself he hates. He’s a rage-aholic, with things about his life that he wishes he could change but he just doesn’t know how. So he’ll either come so close to destroying himself that he’s got no place to go excerpt up, or he’ll succeed.”

“Have you-have you seen this before?” she asked, hoping he’d open up to her.

“Yes. I know someone who’s going through something similar. And it’s not pretty. ”

She waited for him to continue talking. Instead he became quiet, staying in his own little world for the rest of the night, silently watching her go about making drinks and conversing with her regular patrons. It was turning out to be another quiet evening. A few of her regulars were there, and someone requested old skol funk music so a few booties got bumping and she witnessed some dance styles that she wasn’t familiar with. Someone mentioned “the four corners” and she realized that was way before her time.

And Kyle? Well, he did a whole lotta shoulder dancing. He took her jabs about his lack of rhythm good naturedly, claiming that he was talented enough when it counted most.

“Just admit it, you can’t dance,” she teased, spearing a cherry with a swizzle stick.

He did a weird, semi-completed shoulder worm, urging her to take it and pass it on to Yomi. Both women turned him down. “I promise I’m an expert at doing the horizontal mambo,” he told her. “Wanna test me?”

She chewed even harder on that cherry. “No, I’ll pass.”

“I think you’ll want to experience this, Harlow.” He gave her a wink in case she didn’t get his meaning.

She knew what he was getting at. Reina was spending the weekend with a school friend, so it wasn’t like she couldn’t invite him over. “Can I get back to you on that?”

“Har-”

“I don’t want to plan the exact moment or time. I want it to be spontaneous for the both of us. I want-”
What did she want?
Did she want the kind of sex that her friend Torii raved about? Doing it in a cold storage room with the corner of a box sticking uncomfortably up her ass, meanwhile there’s a fine young thing on top of her, giving it his all? Torii’s sexual exploits were comforting in a way, since the woman was in her forties. Harlow wondered if that’s what she had to look forward to, since her thirties were turning out to be a  dry spell. Maybe her forties were when she’d go full on cougar.
Ya think?

“Harlow, it can be however you want,” Kyle promised. “If you feel more comfortable waiting, that’s fine with me. I’m taking my cues from you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

Her response confused him even more. She’d been the one to call and ask if he’d pick her up for work, because her car was stalling out. He’d been hoping there was more to it than that, but she said she’d get a ride home with Yomi, so if he had something else to do . . .