Speaking those words made my gut churn, but I couldn’t be soft. I had to stand on business, or Huncho was going to keep thinking shit was a game.
“Okay. I didn’t mean to stress you. I just wanted you to know what was going on.”
“You’re the last person that’s stressing me, Divine.”
“I love you. Bye.”
“I love you too.”
After I ended the call, I tossed my phone to the side. Mentally, I was exhausted and not sure how much more I could take.
A few days later, I was headed to an ice cream spot downtown to meet Brion. She had just finished a makeup job and had an hour and a half to spare before she picked her daughters up from school. Since I no longer had practice or games, I had been talking to Brion every day and seeing her frequently. It was safe to say that I didn’t care about who may see us and post it in the blogs and obviously, she didn’t either.
Having a lot of extra time on my hands while not being able to do too much was annoying as fuck. I read a few books and even ordered a real estate book. I wouldn’t take the class until the season was over or until I was done in the NFL. Either way, it wouldn’t hurt to read and start becoming familiar with the material. Maybe Divine was right. I could start my own firm and hire a team of agents. I had a lot of connections and not just athletes. I was cool with a few rappers, a few R&B singers, some actors, and reality TV people. Once I got my license, I doubted it would be hard at all to find someone that was interested in buying a house. Honestly, there would be people that wanted to buy a house from me just to get close to me. I was definitely gon’ use that shit to my advantage.
The team doc gave me a handicap placard for my car, so I parked directly in front of the ice cream parlor. When I saw Brion sauntering toward the entrance dressed in olive green cargo pants, a white fitted tank, and red flip flops, I licked my lips at the visual. Her hair was in a ponytail that touched the nape of her neck. She looked like a mom but a baddie at the same time. Brion always appeared comfortable and stylish. I didn’t have anything against women that wore heels to grocery shop ordressed lavishly every day, but there was something effortless as hell about Brion. She was so damn sexy without even trying.
I emerged from the car, and she smiled at me. “Not we have the handicap joint hanging from the mirror.”
Ignoring her jokes, I hobbled over and hugged her. “I hope they post you in the blogs making fun of a handicapped man.”
Brion rolled her eyes. “By the time I get posted in the blogs, my skin will be thick, and I’ll be a pro at taking heat. Trolls have been playing on my page lately, and I have a good idea of who it could be.”
My brows furrowed as I held the door open for Brion. “Who?”
“For the most part, I think it’s the skank that my ex is screwing but for some odd reason, Shannon popped into my head as well.”
“What are they saying?”
The cashier asked us for our orders, so Brion didn’t respond to my question right away. When shorty walked away to get our ice cream, Brion turned to face me. “I posted a picture of my client yesterday, and a fake page with no avatar or any pictures commented that she looked a mess. Then, someone went and commented under a picture of me and London and said they wonder which NFL dick I was sucking to get in good with London. Now, that sounds like Shannon for sure. But I’ll probably never know. Trolls are everywhere on the internet.”
“I can’t believe muhfuckas act so childish,” I frowned, “I’ve never said more than ten words at a time to Shannon, so her being jealous is nasty work. And in your relationship, you were the one that got cheated on. You left the man and let her have him. So, what’s the point of trolling you?” I reached for my wallet to pay for our ice cream.
“As far as Shannon, you already know I don’t fit in with the WAG aesthetic. I’m not a bad bitch, so a person like her can’t fathom why a man like you would want me.”
“That’s dumb as shit. I can like who I want to like. Everybody doesn’t want a surgically enhanced air brain that makes it her life’s mission to find a rich nigga. Speaking on the next man isn’t even something that I do, but your ex is lame as fuck shawty.”
“Don’t I know it?” she frowned slightly.
Our ice cream was handed to us, and we found a seat in the corner. A few people recognized me, and while I peeped them taking pictures, none of them approached me for an autograph or a picture. People that weren’t into sports didn’t have a clue who I was, so it was possible for me to go places and not be bombarded. It just depended on where it was.
“I hope you’re not going to let that shit bother you.”
“Absolutely not. In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve had ten deposits paid and bookings on my website. Literally between the paralegal job, makeup, and the kids, I don’t have time to worry about who’s talking shit behind a fake page. If it’s not directed, it’s not respected. I sleep well every night knowing I haven’t done anything to anybody.”
“Talk yo’ shit mama,” I hyped her up making her blush.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out and eyeing the screen, I saw the number for Atlanta’s county jail. Huncho had been trying to get in touch with me for the past three days, and I had ignored every call. I didn’t have anything to say to him, and I didn’t have any money to give him. My grandmother had called and said with a bail bondsman, she could get him out with $10,000. I told her to be my guest, but she hadn’t gotten him out yet. I placed the phone face down on the table. I had been standing on business, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t get harder with each phone call. I found myself wondering if he’d learned his lesson yet.
“You don’t want to at least talk to him?” Brion asked in a comforting tone.
“Nope,” I answered with finality. “He’s either going to be talking like he has some sense and make me feel guilty, or he’s going to have an attitude that we haven’t gotten him out yet. I already had to curse his father out this morning. Talking about how do you sit in jail for days when your brother is in the NFL? I told his dumb, broke ass to get his money up and bail his own fuckin’ son out.”
Brion appeared to be in deep thought as she bit her bottom lip. “I get it. And I understand how not talking to him makes you feel. Don’t let anyone try to make you feel like you’re wrong. I know you want the best for him and if he’s smart, he knows you do too.”
“I’m sick of you always making my dick hard.”
“What?” Brion erupted into laughter. “Sir, I’m simply engaging in a conversation that has nothing in this world to do with sex. If you’re turned on, that’s on you.”
