Chapter 12
Breeze
Four years later…
“Aye, what’s up, pops?” I questioned, after answering my phone.
“Everythang, lil’ nigga,” he responded. “You know that Array got me up early, running ‘round this muthafucka.”
“Yeah?” I lightly chuckled, as I absently wandered through my expansive 6000 square foot home. Voice echoing, bouncing off the walls. “What’s new?”
“Right. But you know what they say. Happy wife, happy life.”
Yep. Pops had married Array three years ago, and they were overly locked in. My ole man was indeep, but I dug it, because Array was definitely a catch.
“Yeah, I hear you.”
“Right. You coming through this evening, right?”
Frowning, I scratched my head in confusion, not recalling a conversation about me coming over. “I’m saying…what’s the occasion?”
“Oh, I aint tell you? Since Summer nem done officially moved back to the city, Array is throwing a barbecue. Basically to celebrate. She’s been wanting to do this for weeks now, but you know how busy Summer is.”
“Oh, yeah?” I licked my lips. “Nah, Ion remember you mentioning that.”
“Well, yeah. You know Array is hyped, because her baby is finally back in Houston to stay. So, she’s doing the most.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah. And uh…you need to bring uh…ole Ora with you.”
I laughed. “What made you say that? Especially, when it usually feels like she aint invited.”
“Because, lil’ nigga. Ion know if you’ve matured enough. We aint gone forget about that situation, a couple of years back.”
“Mannn,” I drawled. “That was like three years ago. You still on that?”
“Hell, yeah. Array still talks about you slamming that boy on the damn piano I’d just bought her.”
“I mean, shit, I bought her another one. Tell her to look at the bright side.”
“Man, aint nobody playing with you,” my pops persisted. “I want this to be a peaceful gathering. So, bring Ora. And hopefully, you’ll think twice about your actions with her around.”
I sighed. “Yeah, alright, pops. We gone pull up.”
“Okay, bet. I’ll see y’all this evening.”
“Yeah,” I responded, before ending the call. “Lake Houston is the spot today, huh?” I grumbled, as I made my way upstairs. “Pops really called to tell me to chill out.” I smirked.
Funnily, he considered me one of the most mature twenty-three-year-olds around. Outside of a few questionable moments, I was a man about my business.
Technically, I probably should’ve still been playing ball, but an injury had me riding the bench…and I honestly had no plans to return to the court.
Just as the agents and sports reporters had predicted, I was of the one and done variety. So, after just one year of college, I wasa first-round pick in the NBA draft. Signed a 24-million-dollar, four-year contract with Miami.
No lie, going into the NBA had been more exciting than I’d anticipated, but that rush didn’t last for long. The constant traveling, fake people, and groupie women got old quickly. So, after my first year in the league, I locked in. Focused on bringing my planner to fruition, before heavily investing into my own ideas.
It was risky, but in three years, I’d managed to quadruple my net worth. And with that type of financial security that didn’t require me answering to a soul, I was ready for the next phase of my life. Away from the league.
