Page 75 of Full Court Press

“So what should I do? A grand gesture?”

“That could work. They play the Colorado Kings tomorrow. I’m always down for a little girls’ trip,” Robyn said, wiggling her eyebrows and smiling at me.

“No. I need time to figure something out. No grand gestures unless it comes down to it. He’s a celebrity, and I don’t want his business on the front page of our maga—” I paused as an idea hit me. A slow smile crept on my lips, and I looked at Robyn. “Does Emily still do photography?” I asked, referring to her sister.

“She does,” Robyn replied.

“Good. Get her on the phone for me. If he wants me to fight, then I’m about to set it off.”

Two Days Later

Friday

I pulled into the parking lot of Emagine Photography Studios, grabbed my bag, and then stepped out of the car. I hurriedly made my way inside as Emily met me at the door.

“Hey, Emmy,” I greeted her, giving her a hug.

“Hey, love.”

“Is everything set up?”

“It is. If you need any help, I’m only a call away.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Okay. Have fun!” she exclaimed then walked out the door. I looked around, seeing that she had set up the camera and lighting for the fake photo shoot I set up through Khalil’s agent, Nick Washington. It wasn’t easy getting through to him, but I had always been resourceful.

Since I didn’t have Khalil’s personal number, I was able to contact his agent and set up the photo shoot that paid fifty thousand dollars for Khalil to be featured on the front cover of SI. It was a small fib, but I hoped he would take the bait.

And he did.

I set my purse down and checked the time on my phone. He was due to arrive in the next five minutes, so I checked my reflection in the mirror. The black Vivienne Westwood bodycon dress snatched every curve and sat my triple Ds up perfectly. I straightened my hair last night, so it fell softly down my back with a part down the middle. Makeup flawless.

I shook off my nerves and hooked my phone up to the Bluetooth speaker. I went down my playlist until I landed on Tyrese’s “How You Gonna Act Like That,” then poured myself a half glass of champagne.

The door opened, and I tensed a little before turning and seeing Khalil walking through the door with the garment bag I had sent to his agent.

Since I was in the dark corner, he couldn’t see me, but I could see him looking around confused.

“Yo!” he called out.

Disguising my voice, I called out, “The dressing room is on your right. First door on the left. I’ll be right there!”

His brows dipped a little, but he eventually walked away, and my body loosened. I walked over onto the platform, checked the camera, and adjusted it so it pointed at the throne chair in front of the white screen. I moved the umbrella over a little to block his view of me once he returned.

It only took him fifteen minutes to emerge, wearing an all-black Brooks Brothers tux and black Ferragamo loafers.

“You can have a seat in the chair,” I told him, hiding behind the umbrella and still disguising my voice.

He chuckled. “You gon’ have to come harder than this, Pipe.”

My stomach dropped.

How did he know it was me?

I stepped from behind the umbrella and watched him place his elbows on his knees while staring at me.

“How did you know it was me?”