“You know I’m docking your pay for being late, right, MorganFreeman?” I fell into the stereotypical behavior of an immature kid, teasing the girl he likes because he’s too pussy to admit it.
“You know your mama wishes she would have flushed you, right?” she shot back with an eye roll. As if on cue, my mom strolled into the room from the kitchen where she had been ducked off.
“Only on days that end in Y!” she teased, nudging me with my elbow as she came to stand beside me.
“Ooh…” Amaya’s face cracked and fell to the ground in a thousand tiny pieces. “I amsosorry ma’am, I did not realize you were here.” I laughed as she tried to backpedal. I could tell she wasn’t scared of my mom, just trying to stay respectful. I liked that.
“Baby you arefine. He makes me want to go upside his head sometimes too. I just wanted to make sure y’all had something to eat, but I’ll get out of the way,” she assured her. My mom tried to be as supportive as she could through my ordeal but also kept her distance. The entire situation was triggering for her due to what she went through with my sperm donor. That thought alone made me curse Chanel for putting her through this again.
“Let me introduce you really quick before you head out, Ma. This is Amaya and Jocelyn. This is my mother, Raven Andrews. Amaya is my lead attorney and Jocelyn is her assistant.
“Nice to meet you both,” my mom said with a huge smile before the three of them broke out into that girly shit about liking each other’s hair and shoes and all that. I tried hard not to smile at the fact that Amaya and my mom hit it off.
“Damn, you just not gon’ introduce me?” Jonathan asked as he slipped in between me and the ladies.
“Amaya & Jocelyn, this is my teammate Jonathan,” I said, rolling my eyes. He shook Jocelyn’s hand, but when he got to Amaya, he did the most, dropping a kiss to her hand like he was a distinguished gentleman.
“Pretty name for a pretty lady.” I had never wanted to put hands on that nigga more than I had in that moment, especiallywhen Amaya’s ass giggled, like she wasniceor some shit. I rolled my eyes because I spent hard earned money on flowers for her and she cussed me out over it
“If you don’t get the hell on! Sit down somewhere!” I scolded as I gently smacked him upside his head and pushed him out the way so I could I walk my mom out. She spent her time between her condo in L.A. and the house she had next door to my grandparents in Arkansas, and was set to fly out first thing in the morning. When we reached her car, she stood there for a moment, smirking at me like she knew all my deepest, darkest secrets.
“What?”
“She’s pretty…”
“You think so?” I raised my brow in an attempt to look uninterested, but I knew that I was an athlete, not an actor.
“Youthink so,” she teased, as her smirk bloomed into a full blown smile that made it impossible for me to hold mine back.
“Ma,” I fussed, rolling my eyes, smile still whoppin’ my ass. “It ain’t even like that, she works for me.”
“I just call it like I see it, baby,” she laughed. “But whatever you do, please be careful.” A sad look passed over her face and I felt like shit. I knew she was thinking about Chanel and the case, which turned to thoughts ofhim. Clearly, even therapy and over thirty years’ worth of time couldn’t heal some wounds.
“Ma,” I fussed as I pulled her into a hug. “I’m good. I promise. Ain’t nothing goin’ on with me and that crazy ass girl, anyways. I just like pissin’ her off because she cuss at me like Granny.” She busted out laughing as I kissed her on her forehead. Just like that, my girl had a smile on her face again. I got her loaded up and watched her drive off before I walked back inside to find Johnathan pestering Amaya and Jocelyn as they snacked on a fruit tray and went over notes.
“Johnathan,” I said, clapping my hand down on his shoulder. “Take yo’ ass home.”
“But—”
“Nigga, go home!” I snapped with no real venom behind it. Ialready had one lawsuit, I didn’t need another one because my “mentee” couldn’t keep his eyes off my lead attorney’s titties… no matter how nice they were. Gotdamn I just wanted to bury my face in them motherfuckers. After a five-minute argument, I was finally able to shoo him out the door so we could get to work on this bullshit.
“You’re not listening.”She sighed like she was annoyed and that annoyed me. I was making the small leap from annoyed to pissed. We had been at the shit for hours, and as fine as Amaya was, she was aggravating as fuck at that moment.
“Amaya, how many times you gon’ ask me the same question? I answered you. The answer ain’t changin’.” It was a dumb ass question anyways. Why did it matter what my biggest stressors were?
“It’s not about the answer,” she scolded, writing something down in her notebook. “It’s about the way you’re answering the question. Cocky. Arrogant. That shit is cool on the field, and in post game interviews, but in that courtroom, you gotta find the perfect blend of humble and self-assured. You come off too aggressive then you’re seen as callous, like you feel like your status and money can get you out of anything. You come off too soft, then you got something to hide,” she said, looking down as she stood over me. I instantly straightened my posture, remembering the conversation I had with Nik and Justin about how I had to prove myself. It was bullshit. Chanel was the one lying, and I was the one who had to jump through hoops to prove myself.
“So, let me try it again… Mr. Andrews, I know that life as a professional athlete has its perks, but what do you feel like some of your biggest stressors are?” she asked, as she leaned even closer, eyes probing me for an answer.
I inhaled and took a moment to digest her words. The firstseven times, I said some bullshit about finding a good work-life balance, some regurgitated shit from a previous interview. I exhaled and the truth spilled out of my mouth without warning or permission.
“My biggest stressor is that I have alotof people on my back—people that count on me. I don’t mind that one bit, because that’s why I do what I do… to take care of the people who mean the most to me. But thepressureis crippling sometimes. It’s not that I feel like they would judge me if I failed, but I can’t fail because the thought of letting my people down would hurt me more than any lost championship or endorsement… I just want them to be proud of me.”
The room went completely silent as it seemed like all the air evaporated. I sat there frozen while Amaya stared right into my soul. A slow smile crept across her lips as she nodded her head.
“That’s what the fuck I need from you, Chase. No more of these newspaper interview ass answers. Show these people who the fuck you really are.” She stood upright and addressed the room. “Okay, I think that’s enough for tonight. Good work, everyone.” Before she could even get the words out, I was on my feet, stomping towards the back door and storming outside without another word. I stood on the patio, seething as I watched the city below me. If I was lucky, by the time I went back in, everyone would have cleared out, and I wouldn’t have to face them.
“Chase,” Niko’s voice called out to me as he walked outside.
