Page 95 of Full Court Press

“To hell with you, Tejada!” Wellington yelled.

“I’ll meet your punk ass there just to tell you the same shit I just said.”

I smirked. I liked this nigga. He didn’t give a fuck about the pale faces in the room, who were also the quiet ones.

“Alright, gentlemen. Please, cool your heads. If this is about a personal matter between him and your daughter, then I vote no on trading him. It makes no sense to get rid of a good player because of some personal beef,” Phillip inserted.

“If he stays, then I’m leaving,” Wellington said with finality.

“Grant, Robin, John. Y’all are mighty quiet over there. What sayest you?”

“Wellington, you know you’re my friend, but trading him doesn’t sound like the best move, especially when we’re in the playoffs,” Robin said.

“I vote no as well,” John followed up.

Grant sighed and looked at Orlando. “You’re my friend too, Wells, but I’m with the majority on this.”

Orlando scoffed. “Fine. I’ll have my resignation letter emailed by 11:59 p.m. tonight. Just like he’s sticking by his daughter, I have to do the same for mine.” He stood, bid everyone a good afternoon, then quietly made his way toward the door.

“Bye, Lance,” Denico called out, and I folded my lips, trying not to laugh. The door slammed, and I let out the breath I was holding in. “Well, this meeting is adjourned.”

“Thank you all for your support,” I said, standing and shaking their hands. Everyone filed out of the room. Denico stopped me before I could get on the elevator.

“Just wanted you to know that, even if everyone didn’t agree to keep you here, they would have changed their minds by nightfall.”

“How?”

“Motherfuckas who obtain too much money carry too many secrets. I got the drop on every last man who was in that room, and they don’t know jack shit about me. They hate my fucking guts because of it. It’s why I talk to them the way I do—because they think I’m a Black-ass idiot from the hood, but I’m smarter than all their asses. Ain’t no way I was going to let them vote you off the island. You’re one of our top moneymakers and an overall dope-ass player.”

A slow smirk lifted on my face. “I appreciate you, man,” I said, extending my hand for him to shake.

He took it. “Don’t mention it. Even if Asanti didn’t call me, I still would have made sure you stayed right where the fuck you are. Your skills are top-tier, and they know it. Fuck Wellington and his daughter. My wife had to put hands on her a few years back because she tried to slide on me.”

I chuckled. “I would have paid to see that.”

“I’ll send you the video.” He winked and walked off but then pivoted. “Oh, yeah, be careful with this situation. That broad is known to be the center of attention, so don’t be surprised if she does some dumb shit for the blogs. Just don’t feed into it, because that’s what they’re hoping you’ll do. Stay out the way if you can, and win that ring tomorrow so we can end this fucking season the right way.”

“I’m on it,” I replied as we went our separate ways. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Piper.

Me:

Still about that Viper life, baby.

Mi Amor:

As I knew you would be.

Me:

Celine or Birkin?

Mi Amor:

Hmm. How about both?

I smiled.

Me: