Page 86 of King of the Court


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“Texas,” we say at the same time.

She grins. “No shit. I’m from San Antonio.”

“Then you must be secretly rooting for the Spurs.”

She winks. “Don’t tell my boyfriend.”

“I’m actually from Pine Hill, right near Maken.”

“Are you really?! I’ve driven through Maken a thousand times. Didn’t know people really lived around there,” she teases.

I laugh, and Leanna leans forward.

“Oh so now you’re playing nice?” she asks.

Eva winks and sips her champagne. “Just for tonight.”

“Well grab a chair already,” Leanna says, pointing to a free one nearby. “The third quarter is going to start soon, and you’re blocking our view.”

Eva pulls a third chair up on the other side of mine then retrieves champagne for Leanna and me from a passing waiter.

“Here.”

“Oh, thanks.”

I hold it out, unsure of what to do with it.

“It won’t bite,” Eva teases.

I roll my eyes and take a sip. It’s ice cold and delicious. Unfortunately, I can’t drink much of it or I’ll be in trouble after the game. It’s hard enough navigating the LA bus system stone-cold sober.

I figure one glass won’t hurt me though, and something tells me I shouldn’t turn down Eva’s fleeting bout of kindness, so I drink it slowly as we chat. Eva and I have more in common than I first assumed. She was a bookworm in high school as well—“dorky,” she says, though both Leanna and I agree that’s impossible. Looking at her now, I can’t believe she could have been anything other than a beauty queen. She swears she didn’t come into her looks until she was older, after high school, when she moved to California to start college at UCLA.

“A talent scout found me one day while I was window shopping, and the rest is history.” She shrugs.

Leanna leans forward. “I hate to inflate Eva’s already massive ego, but she’s actually a pretty popular model. She just got back from Milan fashion week where she opened for Moschino and closed for Fendi.”

I know next to nothing about fashion and even I recognize those brands.

“That’s really cool.”

She sips her champagne like it’s no big deal.

“Tell that to my parents. Even with the amount I make on campaigns and shoots, they’re still pissed I dropped out of college. They’re both lawyers, and it’s almost embarrassing to them to have a daughter whose job it is to look pretty.”

Impossible as it may be, I actually feel bad for Eva in that moment. I see a fleeting moment of humanity behind her glacial green eyes, and I aim a supportive smile her way.

She shakes her head and downs the rest of her champagne before changing the subject altogether.

“So are you guys going to the after-party for Brent’s birthday?” Eva asks, wiggling her brows suggestively at me. “I mean, you’re not exactly dressed for it, but it’s not like it matters. With that face, no one’s paying attention to your clothes, believe me.”

I blush and shake my head. “Probably not. I mean…I don’t even know who Brent is, so I doubt I’m invited.”

She grins. “Brent’s my boyfriend, so if I say you’re invited, you’re invited.”

“I promised my nanny I’d be back right after the game,” Leanna says, and I suddenly feel like the biggest idiot on the planet.

With everything else going on, I haven’t asked Leanna about her baby girl. In fact, I almost forgot for a moment that she was pregnant back when she was in Texas. She looks amazing now, toned and slim.

She meets my eyes and grins before grabbing her phone. It takes her half a second to pull up a whole album of photos of her daughter. She passes me the phone and tells me to scroll.

“That’s Amara. She just turned one last month.”

Amara is such an adorable little baby, pudgy-cheeked and beautiful. She looks so much like Leanna, and when I tell her, she beams proudly.

“Yeah, she could be my twin. I wasn’t sure how Trey’s family would take that. I knew deep down, they were a bit nervous to have a mixed-race grandbaby. Not that they’re narrowminded or anything,” she adds hastily. “I think I was just worried they would want their grandchild to look like them, to fit in seamlessly with their family.” She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have worried though. Amara is so loved. I swear when we’re all together, I barely get to touch her. She’s passed from one person to the next, smothered with kisses. Trey’s mom is especially helpful.”

“Okay, booooo,” Eva says, waving her hands like a referee. “No we are not lapsing into baby talk. Yes, Amara is cute as shit, but put the photos away, call your nanny, and tell her you’ll be late tonight—you’re going out!”

When Leanna starts to protest, Eva holds up her hand. “Come on. You never go out after the games! You and Trey are like Mr. and Mrs. In Bed By Nine PM. Don’t you want to show Raelynn a good time? Besides, if you don’t come with us, she’ll be left alone with me, and we both know that won’t end well for her. I’m very good at encouraging people to misbehave. She’ll end up dancing on a table or arrested or something.”

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