The Player (8 page)

13

In place of the pool table that had been infamously dry humped by Virgil Fordham was a makeshift stage. An eight by twelve plank of wood, over three inches thick and enough to elevate a small musical combo. Instead Harlow went with a Karaoke machine and a microphone.

“Shhh, the guy I just introduced you to is about to perform,” Harlow said, placing her hand over Kyle’s mouth. “You’ll want to hear this, because his voice is fantastic.”

Kyle groaned, holding fast to her waist. “Sounds like a slow song. Which means you still owe me a dance.”

Tall and solemn, Adam Takaura quietly stepped on stage, never looking at the audience. His dark eyes stayed on his feet as the instrumental of Joe’s R and B hit
“(All the Things) Your Man Won’t Do”
played.

“Alright now!” an anonymous voice in the small crowd shouted.

Another claimed, “That’s my song!!”

Adam grabbed the mike stand as if he needed it to keep upright. After a few awkward minutes of waiting for the song’s intro to finish, he began to sing. If Joe had a vocal twin Adam would be it, because the honeyed tone of his voice was a cross between a sweet baritone and a spine tingling tenor, especially during the opening lyrics. After getting over the initial shock of seeing this extremely nervous, but fine as hell Asian guy crooning like a seasoned R&B singer, women were screaming out encouragement while the men in the audience clapped, giving Adam his props.

“Come on Adam, move a little. Open your eyes and look out at the audience,” Harlow muttered, impatiently swaying against Kyle
. Sure, Adam had the voice and the looks.
But he was stiff as hell onstage and a big part of being successful with an American audience was to sell it.
Adam needed to own it.
While his voice was fantastic his face was ashen and tight, as if he wanted to rush off the stage and throw up. He was just standing there with his eyes closed, not moving and not acknowledging the onlookers who were rooting for him. So Harlow decided to take charge, especially since the woman he was pouring his heart out to was busy carting away dirty dishes.

She hated to break off her and Kyle’s little slow dance in the back of the club, but Eva needed to listen to this song, More importantly, Eva needed to check out Adam. “Excuse me baby, but I’m playing matchmaker and things don’t seem to be going too well.”

Kyle gave her a little twirl before they separated, warning her to come right back.

“I hear he’s got you on lockdown, but I got the master key . . .”
Adam crooned.

When Harlow placed a hand on former army soldier Eva Sanchez Smith’s shoulder to get her to stop cleaning up and listen, Eva’s eyes were tearing up. “Eva, what’s wrong? I thought you liked this song-”

“I-I love it,” Eva sniffed, reaching for the napkin in her apron pocket. “It was one of my favorite songs to dance to, with my husband.”

Harlow looked over at Yomi with a grimace. Yikes! There’s no way to fix up a new suitor with a song that was so special to a couple, especially since Eva’s husband had been a fellow soldier who’d died in the line of duty. “Oh Eva, I’m so sorry. We just wanted to do something special for you.”

“I’ll be fine. It just b-brings back so many m-memories.”

Even though the music had finished Adam was now singing accapella. And he was slowly making his way off the stage toward Eva.

“I can’t handle this,” Eva sobbed, practically mowing Harlow over as she headed for the kichen door.

Blocking Adam before he tried to serenade Eva, Harlow grabbed the mike from his hand, urging him to go after her. “It’s not gonna be easy, but if she’s the one you want, then fight for her Adam. Show her how much you care.”

Adam wanted to believe her. Only Eva was stumbling into kitchen the while Harlow had a trembling smile on her face. He kept looking from Harlow to the door and Eva’s fleeing figure. “But-”

“Just listen to her. Let her talk, but you be there for comfort.” Harlow stepped out of the way as Adam decided to take the plunge. Twirling the mike, she walked to the stage and slipped it back into the stand. Yomi began to clap, trying to get the crowd to convince Harlow to sing.

Laughing, Harlow waved the attention off. “I want to keep everyone here as a customer, not run yuh off. I can’t sing to save my life.”

*****

“I hate you,” Torii said, half serious and half joking. “Look at you two, behaving like an old married couple. You finish each other’s sentences, eat off each other’s plate-”

Harlow slid off Kyle’s lap, taking one of his French fries just to spite him. “Where’s that guy you’ve been messing with? Why don’t you bring him by?”

“It’s  . . . complicated.”

Kyle picked up a fry, pretending it was a sword as he dueled with Harlow. When his fry broke in half, he quickly grabbed another, bragging about having fry reinforcements and that she was going down because ‘This is Sparta!’ Harlow ended their fry battle by squinting ketchup on his fort of fries, prompting him to label her a cheater.

“You cheated first,” she told him, declaring victory. As he pretended to pout, she had a few things to say to Torii. “
Girl please.
Adam and Eva? Now that’s complicated. You and what’s his face?”

“Patrick”

“Sorry, you and Patrick. I keep forgetting his name
because I’ve never met the man.
Anyway, you and Patrick have got nothing on Adam and Eva’s situation, unless you tried to kill Patrick when you first met him.”

“No, I didn’t. But I’m not seeing Patrick anymore. I’ve met someone else.”

That surprised the hell out Harlow. “You have? When did this happen?”

“He lives right under me! I think he was there just before you moved out. Anyway, it’s a long, crazy story and  . . . hold it, I need to show you something.” Ripping open her purse, Torii searched for her phone. Once she found it, she flipped through her stored photos until she found one that brought a big grin to her face. “Look at this. He drew my portrait.”

Torii’s phone got passed around to Kyle and a few regulars sitting at the bar station. All of them agreed on the artist’s talent.

“Maybe he can design the Renegades new helmet,” Kyle said.

Torii looked confused. “Aren’t your helmets plain, with just the black and red?”

“Yep. That’s why I said it.”

“He’s really talented,” Harlow said, handing the phone over. “You gotta bring him here so that I can meet him.”

“I want to, but there’s just one thing.”

“What?”

Nibbling on her bottom lip, Torii gave Harlow one of those
don’t freak out when I tell you this
looks. “He’s disabled.”

“So?”

“He uses a wheelchair.” Torii glanced around the room at all the chairs and tables blocking anywhere a path could be made. “I’d really like to bring Ethan here, but you may have to do some redecorating.” Then she quickly added, “Not a lot. Just enough so that we can get to a nice table without any problem.”

“Okay, good point.”

“Listen, I’ve gotta run.” Giving Harlow quick hug, Torii promised to call and let her know when they’d be coming. Kyle was deep in thought as Harlow went on and on about Torii’s new man. Finally he cut her off with, “Will you need some help, I mean, money wise to fix things around here?”

“First I’ll contact city hall regarding the regulations on making my place more wheelchair accessible. I can’t do any major changes until I research the current codes.”

“I’d like to help.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” she assured him, pouring a ginger ale for herself and a customer.

“It’s a standing offer. Just let me know, because I’ve got a lot of contacts in construction and even at city hall.”

Sipping on her ginger ale, Harlow gave him a nod. It was a generous offer, but she didn’t want to take advantage of their relationship.

“I’ll help you, if you need to expand this place. Have you ever thought about moving, you know, to a better spot?”

“I like where I am just fine.”

“That didn’t come out the way I meant. I’m only saying that I’d be willing to be a partner with you if you ever want to, you know, re-open as a sports bar or something,

“Or something,” she repeated. “Look around you Kyle. Do you see how diverse my customers are? This bar is full of hard working immigrants who only want the American dream like everyone else, and regular folks who work nine-to-five. We aren’t bothering anybody. But you think I should move? So now all of a sudden my place is an eyesore?

Kyle averted her eyes. Darren was right. He’d barged into her life, leap frogging over him to get to what he wanted.
Her.
“I’m sorry I opened my big mouth. This is your place, and it’s up to you to deal with it how you see fit. But if you ever need my help, that’s all I’ll be. Someone who offers you help with no strings attached.”

That made her feel better. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Hey, you put me in my place because you had too. I like that about you. I like your feistiness.”

“I wasn’t always like this. But I’ve learned over the years that I’ve got to fight, even when I don’t want to, and when I get scared, that’s when I have to assert myself. I need to set an example for Reina. I need her to know that sometimes you have to stand up for yourself.”

He didn’t answer. But he raised his glass in a toast to her. “To you, Harlow Jennings. May you never lose that kick ass attitude.”

14

“Go to a party?” Harlow repeated,
“With you?”
Her laughter echoed throughout the club. Yomi looked over, pleasantly surprised to see her normally serious looking boss happily flirting with Kyle, who was now a regular customer.

“Well, you’ve seen the alternative,” Kyle said.  “Would you rather I hang out with good old boy, Virgil?”

Her head whipped back his way so fast, she caught his stare rising from her rear end to her face.
“Will he be there?”

“Maybe.” He shifted on the bar stool, sitting up straighter, his face a mask of seriousness. “But if he says anything to you-”

“I know, I know. You’ll break his face.” Choking back another laugh, she just shook her head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea either. Just like me going to a party as your date.”

“Harlow, the party’s at the owner’s house. I want to introduce you to my teammates-”

Uh. Oh.
She recognized that look of his and tone of voice. She could even guess what he was gonna say next, because he’d sprung it on her the first week they’d started seriously talking.

“Are we ever going to take this public?” he asked.

“Huh?” She widened her dark eyes, batting her lashes innocently. He didn’t fall for it.

“Am I your man? I think we’re a couple. But, uh . . . what do you think?”

Whenever she saw this side of him, the vulnerable, little boy lost for words Kyle, she was a sucker for those baby blues. It was bye week, so he’d visited the bar and grill almost nightly after practice. Giving a long sigh, she tried to explain. “It’s not you. It’s just that it’s never just a ‘party.’ There’s an after-party, and then an after-after party, until you finally wake up and realize you’ve lost track of time and don’t even know who’s in bed beside you-”

“Is that how it was with you and your ex?”

She nodded, fighting back the flood of memories that threatened to spill from her lips. Now would be a good time to tell him.
Just get it over with,
she groaned inwardly. But she didn’t want to think about that very dark part of her past. “Not just with him. Afterwards, when I was more out of it than I cared to admit, I-I almost lost custody of my little girl, Reina.” There. She’d let him know as much as her nerves would let her reveal.

“I bet she’s as tough as you are.” Then he added, “- and just as beautiful.”

That got a shaky smile out of her. “We really need to do something together, you know, me and Reina with you and your little girl, Maddy.” Pushing away the bad parts of her past, Harlow leaned on the bar top, her elbows and forearms pressed on the polished cherry wood. “I could use a kiss right about now.”

“It was that bad, huh?” When Harlow didn’t answer he gathered her hands into his, gently squeezing them to show his support. “I hope you know that whatever it is, I won’t judge you. I’d never do that.”

“Kyle-” she tore her gaze away from his as a familiar voice joined their conversation.

Darren Gillette greeted Kyle with a slap to his back. “Hey man, sorry to break this up.” Darren casually slid onto the stool next to Kyle, and with the size of the two of them they took up half the bar. With his dreads pulled back in a ponytail, Harlow got a better look at Darren’s handsome face. “I just thought I need to run something by you,” he said.

Busying herself at the other end of the bar so they could have some privacy, the few times she did glance their way Kyle’s expression flashed from a scowl to fury.

“When’s the story gonna hit?” Kyle asked.

“The Times already leaked part of it on the internet tonight. But the full story’s supposed to come out next week,” Darren said.

“Shit.” Lifting his drink, Kyle gave an imaginary toast. “When it rains, it pours.”

“Yeah. I’d say so.”

“At least that dirtbag will get what’s coming to him. Virgil’s been warned about his big mouth how many times?”

“Kyle, uh, there’s more.”

“What?”

“Look, there’s no easy way to say this. Virgil’s been doing some really fucked up shit to the rookies. Stuff we didn’t know about when he was voted in as a captain.”

Kyle had a sinking feeling he didn’t want to hear what Darren was about to tell him. “The shake-downs weren’t enough for that idiot?”

“No. I’m taking major PR disaster, ‘cause it seems that Virgil had his own crew on the team that helped him do his dirty work.”

“Let me guess. One of ‘em was the guy we signed in the off season, the one who walks around throwing up gang symbols. I knew Romero would be trouble-”

“Strangely enough, Romero’s not one of ‘em,” Darren said. “He actually stepped in and confronted Virgil and his boys when they were saying some pretty nasty things to the assistant trainer. So when the story goes public, we’re gonna be fielding a lot of ‘where was the leadership on the team?’ kind of questions.”

“And a whole lotta what were you and I doing when all this was going on,” Kyle added.

Darren nodded in agreement. “Yep, pretty much. But you’ve got nothing to worry about, not with that franchise tag on ya.”

Kyle grunted.  They were currently third in their division, and if enough of his squad were caught up in this mess the suspensions could deplete the team. Which meant they could forget about making the play-offs. “Well, looks like I’ll be keeping a low profile.”

“You need to tell Harlow what’s about to happen before the shit hits the fan.”

“Why? She’s got nothing to do with the team’s business.”

“Kyle, haven’t you been listening?” Darren cursed and almost spun completely around on his stool. “Aw man, it’s the shit that went down in here that starts off the whole Time’s article. Then it goes into the culture of violence, the sexist and racial taunts, and how the club tolerates it.”

“But we don’t tolerate it-”

“Uh, actually, we do.”

Kyle jabbed his finger into the wood along the bar to emphasize his point. “When Virgil pulled his Neanderthal act in here, we stopped it. When he talked shit about Harlow in the locker room, we kicked his ass.”

“But that’s as far as it went. And that’s why the article’s saying we’ve been covering for that lunatic. But they’ve got witnesses and other instances of him behaving like a sexist lunatic. And they’ve got Harlow’s restraining order-”

“Which proves my point. If we were covering this up, don’t you think I could’ve asked Harlow not to go through with filing that?”

“But you wouldn’t go that. Would you?” Harlow asked, now back at their end of the bar. “Sorry to butt in, but you guys were getting loud. So I came over to tell you that you might wanna lower your voices. This place isn’t that big.”

“They’re gonna read about it anyway,” Kyle told her, motioning with his glass for another drink.

“Darren, you sure I can’t get you anything? It’s on the house,” she said, caressing a bottle of Gray Goose if she were a game show model offering it as the grand prize.

With a somber shake of his head Darren said no. He gave Kyle another pat on his back before heading out. When Harlow poured a refill for Kyle, he asked her to stay put. “How much did you hear?”

“Just about the restraining order,” she said. “Is it causing problems?”

“Looks like Virgil’s antics are public knowledge now. Darren just told me about a New York Times article that’s about the blow. Figures it would happen just when we’re finally winning.” He took a big gulp of his drink. “Hey, I don’t come here to dwell on the team. I’m here to watch that fantastic ass of yours.” Just as she leaned across the bar to give him a kiss, his phone rang. With one hand caressing the nape of her neck and the other holding up his phone, Kyle did a side eye glance at the screen. “Aw Jeez, I hope there’s nothing else about to come out-”

That was her clue to dislodge her lips from his. As she slowly headed for the center of the bar, her mind focused on a not so savory time period in her past.
Suddenly the bar was gone, and there she was, standing in the middle of a police station getting bailed out and called out by Ozzy.“What the hell is wrong with yuh, Harlow? Did you do it to hurt me?”

At twenty-seven and still fuming over how they’d separated, she couldn’t stop crying. “Where’s Reina? Is she alright?”

“She’s fine,” he snapped, ordering one of his bodyguards to have his limo brought around to the front of the building. “Why’d you get with that? Yuh coulda come ta me, yuh knew that.”

“No!” she roared back at him, realizing everyone in the station was either watching or listening. “No I couldn’t come to yuh, ‘cause you’re the problem!”

“Not here, and not now,” Ozzy warned, taking her elbow as he led her down the steps of the station house. “We’ll discuss this in the car.”

When her bare thighs touched the cool black leather, it was like an electric shock. Now energized, she began pummeling Ozzy with all her strength. “Yuh wanna know why I got with him? You closed our checking account! I couldn’t even buy diapers or milk for Reina!”

Instead of letting his guards pull her off him, Ozzy took the blows. Even as her strength waned, she bit and clawed at his arms as he tried to hug her. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I made you suffer,” Ozzy murmured, realizing he hadn’t acted like a man. When they’d exchanged wedding vows he’d promised to love and cherish her until death parted them. Instead their home became party central, and he’d nagged her about getting with the program. He’d let fame go to his head, and his wife and baby daughter ended up paying the price.

They rode in silence for a long while, until she dared to speak again. She had to explain, she had to let him know. “H-he offered us a place to stay-”

“I don’t wanna hear about him. He had yuh arrested over some bullshit.”

Her voice sounded weary and far too old for her years when she spoke. “An NBA championship ring isn’t bullshit. And no, I didn’t steal it.”

“I know you didn’t. You’re mah muse. You’re mah good girl.”

With a bawled fist, she dared him to say that again. “I’m not your ‘girl’. I’m your wife, and you shit all on me. I had my own dreams before I married you, but you begged me to give them up just so you could live yours.
So you can go to hell.
I’m gonna get Reina and I’m gonna get back on my own two feet.”

“You’re not taking Reina.”

“I am, and you know why? Because you’re still the same selfish little bastard who only cares about how many CD’s you’re selling and how many of yuh fans are yelling out yuh name. You didn’t have time for me, so you sure won’t have time to take care of a toddler.”

“You’re not going anywhere with Reina.”

“Oh yes I am. You’re gonna be the one to put her in my arms. Because you know . . . you know how much it’ll kill me not to have my baby.” When her voice broke, so did his heart.

“We need to work together on this. For Reina’s sake.”

Just like back then, she needed to face her fears. And it was time to shake loose the memories of her past. Time to come clean.