“Where do we start?” I asked.
“At the beginning,” she said, looking me dead in my eyes.
So, we did.
“My nigga!We in here! We fuckin’ made it dawg!” My best friend Rome screamed over the bass of the track the DJ was spinning. I was a few games into my rookie season in the NFL, and he was about to start his second year in the NBA for the New York Knights. Rome and I had grown up together and after splitting up for college, me in Texas and him in Washington. We finally reunited on the East Coast after somehow getting drafted to the same city.
“We did my nigga! We did it!” I clapped his shoulder as the two of us basked in our success. We were just lil’ niggas and had rented a small section in a club to celebrate life with a few of our teammates. Young us had no idea, but that was just the tip of the iceberg on the amount of success we would achieve.
“Ooooh,” one of the girls we had brought into our section hooted, sounding like a damn fire truck. “There’s Starr Biggs!” Our heads snapped in the direction of the large group of people walking past our section. We were happy enough to witness, but when she stopped and looked in our direction, it took everything in us to play it cool.
“Hey, you two play ball, right?” she asked with her brows raised, laughing when we nodded in awe. “What are your names?”
“Chase Andrews,” I gulped.
“Rome Pierre St. John.” I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at that nigga… regal sounding ass name. I knew I lost that battle when her eyes hazed over and fixed on his ass.
“Y’all wanna party with us upstairs?” she propositioned with a wink as she leaned in closer, her perfect titties pushed right in front of our eager young eyes.
“Us?” Rome asked with a confused expression. We were Z-List compared to the singer turned actress who was one award away from a fucking EGOT. We were in our early twenties and had been lusting after that woman since puberty hit so we nearly tripped over our own feet, shoving each other aside so we could join her entourage and head upstairs. The girls we were with were pissed when they realized they were getting left behind until we told them they could keep the section and bottles that we had ordered.
An hour later, my social battery had completely depleted as I sat in a corner watching Starr and Rome dance and slob each other down. I was 99% sure they would be ending the night together and knew I would never hear the end of it. I had just made the decision to give it another ten minutes and head out when I felt someone sit down beside me. I turned, my gaze going right into the prettiest brown eyes I’d ever seen. I immediately broke into the goofiest grin imaginable as I took in her pretty round face with high cheekbones and slim thick frame.
“You’re Chanel King, right?” I asked with more excitement than I intended to.
“You… know me?” she asked, her pretty face mirroring my shock.
“Yeah. I’m not ashamed to say I was a Youtube addict my freshman year of college. I saw that cover you did of Believe It and was locked in ever since. I mean I would rush back to the dorm after my Thursday class to watch your new uploads. I’m a day one, I been with you this whole journey. Congratulations on your new deal,” I laughed, tipping my imaginary hat to her, then immediately feeling like a lame for doing the most.
“Thank you!” She gave me a smile so bright, it made mine return even bigger. “And congratulations on all of your success. I heard one of the girls say you were recently drafted?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the second string running back for the Tigers. Nothing too crazy.”
“Uh uh! Hell naw! We don’t downplay shit over here! You’re doing things that I’m sure you dreamed of since you were a little boy. It’s only up from here,” she scolded as she clinked her glass with mine in a celebratory toast.
“For both of us,” I added.
And it was…for a while. Chanel and I were inseparable after that—going from acquaintances to full blown lovers in a matter of weeks. She was my best friend and my biggest supporter. Her debut album catapulted her into instant stardom, and eventually a torn ACL bumped me to first string. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity to show up and show out. For the first two years, things were absolute perfection, then the cracks started to show. I wasn’t perfect by a long shot, but I knew that my biggest mistake was trying to hold on for way too long.
“So if you could do it over again, would you have ended it earlier?” Amaya asked. Every time she moved, I caught a whiff of her, she smelled like sunshine… and fucking caramel. All the hard work I did before to drain my balls was reversed in an instant as I adjusted myself to conceal what was happening under the table.
“I-… sorry, what?” I asked with a squint.
“I said, if you knew what you know now, would you have ended things earlier?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she leaned forward on her elbows. She was dressed professionally, and I was still doing everything in my power to make sure she stayed fully clothed in my head.
“Knowing that she’s capable of some bullshit like this? I never would have gave her ass a second glance. My reputation is everything to me, and sheknowsthat. I was born into an abusive household, so the fact that she would usethisagainst me? Fuck her! Sorry…”
“No, I agree, fuck her, but you can’t go saying that to everyone. Just say it to me if you need to. Attorney-client privilege,” she mused with a coy grin.
“Noted,” I assured her with a warm smile. My face immediately fell, because I could already feel myself getting way too friendly with this woman, and I knew it couldn’t be anything more than what it was.
CHAPTER 6
PRESSURE RELEASE
Chase Andrews Hires Amaya Lewis for King Vs Andrews
In preparation for the upcoming case brought on by ex-girlfriend Chanel King, Andrews has recruited Lewis as the lead defense on his team. Lewis comes with extensive experience and multiple success stories. The most recent one being the Rich Ferguson case, where Ferguson was awarded an unnamed settlement against his previous organization.
