First and Ten Read online

  Dani bit her tongue thinking Victoria has enough formal wear dresses to clothe a small Caribbean Island in her closet. To her, wearing something twice to a photographed affair without it being something like a clothing drive itself would be unconscionable.

  “He said run down to the mall and grab something with sparkles on it.”

  At times Dani’s hardest job was keeping a straight face with her clients. She patted Victoria’s hand and gave her a knowing look of someone worried about her friend.

  “I’ll have Marco go down to the women’s section and pull a few dresses I just saw the other day. And I’ll check with the guest list to make sure no one will be wearing the dress you fall in love with.”

  “You are manna from Heaven. I swear, Danika, I would simply die if you were not here. I can use this dressing room, right?”

  “Marco,” Dani beckoned.

  “Oh my God,” Victoria squealed with her hands spread wide. “That is not—” she gasped as if in pain as she put her hands on the red Hermès bag Dani had sitting at her feet.

  “Are you interested? I am on the short list when it comes to the release of items like this?”

  “It’s not out, is it?” Victoria clutched her chest as if the purse somehow held all the answers to the world’s problems inside. It didn’t, it just had Dani’s ID, keys, and memo book. Her client list afforded her little perks like the Fall Fashion week extras.

  “It’s from their fall collection. Rich rust colors will be big this year. I believe they told me it would release in early August.”

  “I remember seeing it when I was looking at the fall collection.” At this point Victoria was turning into a puddle next to Dani and she had to let her out of her misery.

  “The day it releases it will be hand delivered to you at the Governor’s residence.” The commission was enough to keep the smile on Dani’s lips. Turning back to Marco, who’d been waiting patiently behind her, she smiled and checked in. “You have no problem with Mrs. Belmont using your facilities here, do you?”

  “No, ma’am. It would be an honor. I have already set up a room just for her. I was simply waiting for your instructions.”

  “He’s the manna.” Dani smiled.

  She gave her list to Marco and off he went, happy in the realization his sales today would skyrocket. Victoria never bought one dress, she usually bought a collection.

  Dani noticed Rome hadn’t left, even though she’d finished with two of her now four clients. At first she thought he was staying for his teammate, but no. He just sat stroking his chin absently as he flipped between watching her and updating the draft picks on his phone.

  “Who’d they get in the second round?” she asked.

  “Not up yet.”

  “Really? I thought the Grizzlies traded for three picks in the second round last year.”

  “I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You know a lot about the Grizzlies to not know me.”

  “If you were in your uniform with a helmet on, I’d know you even with it off on the sideline. Let’s just say you don’t exactly have your game face on right now.”

  “You have quite a racket here. How much was for me?”

  “You?” she sighed and stood by the door waiting for Marco. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here every third Saturday.”

  “But you work every Saturday I thought.”

  “There are other stores in Chicago.”

  “A few,” he chuckled and his deep chocolate eyes sparkled and Dani turned away as butterflies took off in her stomach.

  “This is just one of many. Trust me, Marco only works one Saturday a month. The rest of the time he’s got bankers hours.”

  “Lucky he likes you.”

  “Luck has nothing to do with it. Like everything in the world, it’s money. Marco makes rent on the days I work. A few hours and his nice little condo is paid for.”

  “And the Governor’s wife? Why isn’t she in the capital?”

  “I have no clue. I’m not her social secretary, but we are less than six months away from a primary and Chicago has a lot of votes.”

  “It just seemed fortuitous that you were here now.”

  “Who sent you here?”

  “Who says I was sent?”

  “I told you, I’m always here on the third Saturday. If you picked the place it was fate. If you were sent, it was a set up.”

  “My agent, Randall Corbin.”

  “Randy,” Dani gushed. “He’s a peach, but signing with me is a bit of a commitment. I guess today was an audition. I just wished he’d have called me first.”

  “Why? So the President, NFL commissioner, and the CEO of Apple could have shown up too?” he asked, leaning his thick forearms on his knees. Dani did like a man who could fill the clothes he wore. And Jerome Speed didn’t just fill them, he stretched the fabric until it ached for breath just as she was doing. He was one of the more chiseled players she’d dealt with.

  “No, I just don’t have time right now,” she lied. “Maybe when a few contracts expire.”

  “I don’t care to be one of the top bachelors,” he said with a sideways glance.

  “When are you up for contract negotiations?”

  “This is my last year with the Grizzlies.”

  “Then you’re off to free agency?”

  “Knock wood.” He rapped his knuckles three times on the table.

  “You want to stay here?”

  “I’ve fallen for the city, but if I need to move I will.”

  “Don’t give me the ESPN answer.”

  “I’d like to stay. I’ve got a nice house and friends.”

  “Tell Randy to call me and I’ll see if I can get you in before OTAs.”

  Dani hated lying to potential clients, but she couldn’t admit the first thing she thought when he stepped up on the small podium to inspect his clothes was take it off. And not because Ramona has ghastly taste. A scrumptious ass, tight frame, and a smile he tried to hide because his dimples had her done. She needed to stay all business with him and business was the last thing on her mind. Why couldn’t she have met Jerome Speed at a club or restaurant? No, fucking Randall, she’d deal with him on Tuesday. Since when does he send clients unannounced to her?

  Her eyes caught Jerome’s as he looked up slightly, her stomach tightened and her breasts tingled. With a small arch to his eyebrow she turned quickly away. Jerome Speed must believe his own hype to give her that look.

  Pity, because his ass was no lie.

  Chapter Two

  “How was your fitting?” Randall asked with a confidence he never dropped as Rome walked up the six steps to his brownstone in Lincoln Park.

  “Hello to you too,” Rome sighed as he opened his door, with his Bluetooth cutting out just a bit until he was inside his home.

  “I just need to make sure you’re ready to go with all your fall wardrobe needs.”

  “I’m sure you stay up nights tossing and turning at the thought that I might clash with my date.”

  Rome tossed his keys into a glass bowl on the table just inside his doorway as he kicked off his sneakers and shrugged off the light zip up coat he’d been wearing. His home was comfortable and just the amount of space he needed. Decorated by someone Randall suggested after Rome spent his off time restoring the early twentieth century three story home he’d rescued from demolition. Early in his career, he’d been told to invest and instead of choosing a friend’s ponzi scheme he chose to invest in himself and his ability to turn nothing into something great.

  “I found one suit,” Rome confessed, not adding that it was the one picked by Danika, no reason to give Randall any reason to gloat more.

  “I’m glad Ramona could help you.” Damn it, he knew the set up produced the purchase.

  “Have I ever told you that I despise being manipulated?”

  “A time or two.” His voice lowered just a bit and for a half a second Jerome thought Randall would dro
p his tough as nails demeanor. No such luck. “But you pay me to put you in the best position to further your career. Have I not connected you with the right people more than once?”

  “A warning would have been nice,” Rome said as he dug through his subzero fridge for the soda he’d been saving. One a week as a treat during the off season. Funny how an orange Crush seemed like a crack to him. The telltale snap then hiss was followed by a long sigh as if everything in his world had suddenly been righted.

  “You can’t tell me Dani wasn’t amazing.”

  Confident, sexy, and just the right amount of hips to get him in trouble.

  “Why the ambush?”

  “Because if I told you that there was an interview process for a stylist you wouldn’t have gone.”

  Taking a long swallow of the orange confection, he wanted to move onto something important instead of how he looked as he boarded a plane. Randall handled many aspects of Rome’s life and now that Rome had been properly sugared, he wandered upstairs to face his most important thing in his life.

  “What about DeMonte?” he asked as he pushed opened his son’s unused room. “She wanted the money to raise him or have you gotten me a good enough lawyer so I can see him?”

  “Stanton Meeks is going to represent you. He’s handled a lot of these cases and he’ll even work to help you with the latest one.”

  “What?” Rome snapped as he balled his fist. Over twenty paternity claims had been filed in the six years since he’d been drafted. Twenty!

  The moment he went number one some bitch from college came forward. It didn’t matter if he slept with them or not, they claimed their spawn as his. Now that number was twenty-one. He’d stopped going out, stopped taking pictures with fans, stopped enjoying his life. Millions of dollars made him a target. The moment he actually had a child come up his, he stupidly painted a room and decorated it for his now three-year-old son. Only to have Ms. Candace Powell say she didn’t need his help to raise her son, just his money to clothe and feed him. Four years before, she’d lived in his home, leaving before he’d gotten the nerve to tell her he loved her. Love turns to hate so quickly.

  “Another woman has come forward. Do you know a Keisha Cousins?”

  Jerome racked his memory, but the women were too many. Tossing themselves at him since high school when he scored four touchdowns in one game. He tried the relationship thing a few times. DeMonte’s mother was the closest he’d had to a girlfriend, she left once she got pregnant without telling him.

  “How old is the kid?”

  “Three, like DeMonte, at least they’re learning you’re a good boy now and not even trying in utero or newborns anymore. Are you just living on porn sites? Seriously, I haven’t even seen you sniff a woman in a year.”

  Sniff, maybe, fuck, sure, with his condom, a nondisclosure agreement, and only if she was stone cold sober. When had getting laid turned from fun to an agreement spelled out between two people? Damn, he couldn’t even trust a woman anymore.

  “Do we have a punch card at the lab?” Rome asked with only a bit of sarcasm.

  “This will be different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Meeks is going to make sure this bitch pays above and beyond, unless of course…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know unless of course I actually fucked her unwrapped. Class actions can’t be backwards can they? You know, defamation of character and the like?”

  “Ask Meeks, but he’s going to get you custody,” Randall assured. “I’ve forwarded everything to him, he’s filing papers in court Monday morning. I’m making sure all the media outlets are going to know about the suit. We’re going to make sure women think twice before laying a child on you.”

  “I just want to see my son,” Rome groaned. “It’s been over two years of this shit with Candi.”

  “I gotcha, man, I was wrong saying you could try to be amicable. Plan B is going to work. Hell, you might get sole custody by the end of this.”

  Rome ran his hand over his face. He didn’t want that either, but he wasn’t going to be like the other guys he knew who tossed money at a woman to get rid of a problem. His son was not a problem. He was his blood. The only thing he regretted about DeMonte was being stupid enough to let the child’s mother close enough to trust her. A mistake he vowed to never repeat.

  “Have you finished collecting the data on first quarter sales?” Dani asked Esme, her project partner and the closest person to a best friend Dani knew.

  “Let me see,” Esme moved the wireless mouse of her laptop and began clicking away with her manicured nails. With black horn rimmed glasses and long flowing hair the color of straw, Esme resembled a model when they were advertising for hot business types. Dani groaned a bit. How would Esme not know if she did the work? “Yeah, I got them all.”

  “You sure?” Dani asked as she rolled her eyes a bit.

  “I know better than to not hit your schedule.” Esme pushed her glasses through her hair so they became a headband and crossed her arms. “Has anyone told you lately you’re a bit high strung?”

  “If I was a man you’d call me driven.”

  “If you were a man, I’d have sued for sexual harassment. You’re always in charge and never allow me a chance for advancement.”

  “Could that be because I had to stay up until three a.m. because you got in a fight with Milton? Seriously, how could you date a guy named Milton?”

  “At least I date.” Esme reached for her Frappuccino and sucked down the cool drink. “And say what you want, Milton was hot.”

  “Strangely, yes, but he had a bit of a Napoleon Complex. I think it’s the name. Plus, he was a shitty boyfriend.”

  “But he was good at making up.”

  “Tell me something,” Dani said before popping a grape in her mouth. “Did moaning his name make the sex better or dry you up like an old lady mid stroke?”

  “I hate you and everything you stand for in life.”

  “So I can’t have your fries?” Dani teased as she swiped two fries through ketchup.

  “Better your ass than mine.”

  “When did you get an ass?”

  Esme and Dani spent the rest of the afternoon creating a power point, while digging through all the data for a company that went public a year ago. The project was simple, examine and dissect a new company to strategize on flaws and positives in hopes of someday missing the potholes that come with everyday business. As Dani gathered up her files and stuffed them into her messenger bag, her hand came to the bridge of her nose and she pinched.

  “What’s stressing you out now?” Esme asked. “We have to be at least a week ahead.”

  “More, by my schedule,” Dani sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I want to get an apartment.”

  “‘Bout time. You’re a bit old to be living with your parents.” Esme dug through her purse and retrieved her keys. “You know you’ll need to work more then.”

  “I have people dropping in on me. Saturday, Randy had the nerve to book one of his guys with the whore.”

  “Ramona,” Esme let out a small giggle. “How is she doing?”

  “Still colorblind from the little bit I witnessed.”

  “And trying to fuck your clients.”

  “Mason was not a client.”

  “He started as one,” Esme teased as they made their way to the parking garage. “Besides, it was just a great way to learn he was a prick not worth your time.”

  Dani tried to reconcile that part of the equation, but couldn’t. It still hurt to be betrayed by someone she cared for by a person she’d taken under her wing. Dani wasn’t one to have a lot of friends to begin with. She had to avoid the ones who thought she’d have the hottest tickets to parties or at least throw them. As she got older, it became the ones who wanted an internship with her father. Esme had been her only constant. Unlike Dani, Esme’s parents gave her a trust to start out her life. She’d get it later, until then they supported her as long as she was in school. She’d traveled
through four departments so far and could have multiple degrees if she’d only apply for graduation. Instead, she took the classes, somehow convincing those in graduate studies to allow her to take a few classes even though she didn’t technically have a Bachelors. Having dropped enough at the tuition office to probably create a fully funded fifth department for her to study in, Esme was a Dean’s List student with a compass that spun like it was on the North Pole.

  “Tell me about Randy’s client,” Esme said as they got in her car. “What does he play?”

  “Football.” Dani felt the pads of her fingers heating up as if Rome was standing before her again. “For the Grizzlies.”

  “That’s good, then you can deal with him all year long.”

  “No, I don’t have time for another client.”

  “You just said you were moving out. That requires money and last I saw your dad didn’t add you to his black card.”

  Dani turned to look out the passenger window as Esme scanned her pass to leave the garage. She was right. Dani had a billionaire father and had to scrape pennies to get a pass for the L before she finally could buy her own car.

  “Plus, if you live in the city that will give you loads of extra commute free time.”

  “You wouldn’t want to have a roommate, would you?” Dani could feel the desperation in her voice.

  “Would if I could, sweetie,” she chimed in a singsong voice. Their fathers being best friends too meant Esme’s black card privileges would be revoked if she disobeyed. The only luxury Dani’s father would ever provide for her was his name and connections. What she did with them to better herself was a hundred percent on her.

  “Rome,” Clark, his personal trainer, said. “I need to send you to a masseuse.”

  “Is it a happy ending type masseuse or a real one?”

  “Real, he,” Clark began again, this time with his arms crossed with his dark eyes letting Rome know he could hurt him and worse yet, Rome would have been paying for it, “focuses on sports massage, that hip of yours worries me.”