“I’m just saying that I don’t trust her.”
“Your ass is suspicious of everyone, Amé.”
“Of course, I am. That’s my job, and even more so now with shit out of control in your life.”
“You let me worry about that part, and you keep those endorsements and contracts right.” I jerked the door free fromher hand, but she immediately gripped the partially open window.
“Don’t fuck up, Ashton. Because the last thing I have time for is beating someone’s ass over you. You’re barely able to keep me on a leash about Zoe,” she stated, pointing at me.
I rolled my eyes at the mention of my wife, Zoe “Muffin” Santoro. She was a serious fucking thorn in my side, and years ago, nobody could have ever told me that she would become that. Besides basketball, loving that girl in high school was the highlight of my life. Hell, even six years ago, I wouldn’t have believed she was capable of the trifling shit she had done. As much as I wanted to blame that ratchet group of women she now ran with, she was responsible for her choices.
She had a leash on me, and I wanted her to release me. I needed her to be the one to walk away, because otherwise, I would feel like a failure if I were the one who walked. But she would not. It had finally been up to me to cut the collar so I could get the peace that I so desperately needed.
I pulled out of the lot and lowered Titan’s window so that he could stick his head out. I pressed the button to start up my system in the car. Mak D was rapping about being on top of the world, and I was feeling the exact opposite of that.
“Thank you so much for granting me this interview. The magazine wanted to do a series of them titled ‘On the Road to Retirement.’ There are rumors circulating that you’re not going to retire, but you’re just moving into another facet of the industry,” Chanel remarked before she forked a piece of steak into her mouth.
My stomach knotted briefly when she said the word “rumors.”
“I have plans that will keep me connected to the industry. My parents weren’t happy with my decision to go into professional basketball straight out of high school, and they pushed for me to go to college. I finally did after the first six years, and I earned my B.A. in Sports Psychology from CSU. It’s time for me to put that to use.”
“Let’s get into it.”
I nodded, and she asked me a few questions that helped me relax. Although Chanel had interviewed me through the years, those interviews were usually courtside, immediately after a game, in the locker room, or press conferences.
I had never had a one-on-one sit-down with her before, and I heard rumors that she could be vicious when it came to getting a story. I suspected that was what the warm-up questions were for. Even though I was relaxed, I was still on guard.
“How do you handle pressure on the court?”
“It’s all about how I prepare for a game and my unity with the team. Before every game, I pray and sometimes during the games. I trust the Almighty to provide what I need to make it through. The rest of it is a combination of elite skills, my passion and enthusiasm for the game, my courage to face whatever challenge comes up, and my determination to rise above the pressure, and enable my team to pull off the win, or at least know we left it all on the floor.”
“I’ve seen you praying. I’ve seen you sitting on the sidelines with your lips moving or looking up at the ceiling. You’ll close your eyes, give a brief head nod or fist pump, and then you jump right back into it.”
I chuckled. “Damn, you paying a brother attention like that?”
She sat back, fluttered her eyelashes, and tossed a flirty smile my way. “The game is intense, Ashton. I pay all the playersattention, especially those who stand out and do what it takes to handle their business out there. You’ve always been one of those guys,” she professed softly with an intimate smile.
“Thank you. It feels good to be seen.”
“You’re definitely seen, brother. As with any career in any industry, there will be victories and challenges. You’ve played thirteen hundred games, averaged twenty points per game, four rebounds per game, and four assists per game. You have five rings. What sacrifices have you made on the road to your success?”
I chuckled. “It depends on who you ask. My mother would say that I sacrificed my college education early on and that I assuaged my guilt by returning to college later. My papà would say that I sacrificed a career in the family business for celebrity status.”
She laughed. “Wait. Your father isn’t proud of the career you have accomplished? What father wouldn’t be proud of the success you’ve attained?”
Growing serious, I folded my arms on the table and leaned forward. “Let me tell you something. Never let it be said that my parents aren’t proud of what the fuck I do. They’re very proud of me, but they also aren’t superficial. They couldn’t care less about my status, possessions, or any of that shit. They only care about their family being close.”
“I’ll strike that part of the comment.”
“What part?”
“The cursing,” she stated boldly, meeting my gaze.
“That’s on you,” I replied with a shrug.
“I just want to be clear, because I don’t generally edit the responses in my interviews, but I also don’t include cursing.”
She asked me a few more questions about my career, memorable games, and players I have played with and against.After we finished discussing my future plans, the conversation took a turn.
