Basketball Jones (5 page)

“You play football?”

“I played at Southern down in Baton Rouge. A couple years ago I got invited to the Saints camp, but I got cut right at the end. I thought at least I’d make the practice squad. I played in the Arena League but that shit is lame. You have to play two positions and they don’t pay shit. It’s like peewee football for grown-ass men.”

“What position do you play?”

“Safety. What is your favorite team?”

“The Dolphins,” I said.

“What do you think about what they did to Culpepper?”

“I haven’t been following them lately. What happened?”

“They waived that mofo’s big ass. Most likely he’s happy as shit now that he’s playing ball in a black town.”

“Where is he playing now?”

“Oakland.”

“I have to check that out. So let’s work out Monday, Tuesday. Take Wednesday off and then pick it back up on Thursday and Friday. How does that sound?”

“I’m down. You want to start at seven? That way you can be my first client and we can just knock that shit out.”

“Cool. What’s your number?”

“Give me your cell phone and I’ll punch it in.”

I handed Cisco my phone and he entered his number, then threw the phone back to me. He grabbed his gym bag, gave me some ball-fisted dap, and was out the door.

Interesting guy, I thought, taking note of his round ass poking out from the warm-ups.

Yes, sir, that was definitely the body of a football player—or a male stripper.

I was enjoying the first sip of my café au lait at the popular New Orleans spot Café Du Monde when I heard a woman’s voice calling in my direction.

“Are you going to use all that sugar?”

“No, not using it all,” I said, passing her the light blue dish that held sugar and several kinds of artificial sweeteners.

“Thank you. I thought this was supposed to be a classy joint, and they can’t even put sugar on every table.”

I took another sip and nodded politely. I was just getting ready to taste my first bite of my beignet when she called out again.

“Why are you sitting over there by yourself?”

“I’m waiting for someone,” I said, hoping this girl wasn’t trying to hit on me so early in the morning. I was waiting to interview a candidate for the position of my assistant.

“Why don’t I join you before he or she gets here?” she offered. Before I could respond she had picked up her coffee and roll and plopped down in the chair facing me.

I was struck first by her boldness, then by how pretty she
was, with her overdeveloped breasts bursting from her silky tank top. She had a soft face with dark sparkling eyes that radiated warmth and confidence.

“I’m Jade. Jade Galloway,” she said, extending her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jade. I’m Aldridge.”

“That’s a nice name. You got a last name?”

“Yeah, it’s Richardson. Most people call me AJ,” I said.

“That goes together and I like AJ,” she said, blowing on her coffee with her full lips. I admired the way she was wearing her hair down, with a slight part amid an abundance of wavy black hair that looked part real, part weave. She didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup on her smooth, tea-colored face, but she was so pretty it didn’t matter.

“I’m glad you approve.” I smiled.

“Are you from New Orleans?”

“No, I just moved here.”

“Me too,” she squealed with delight.

“Where are you from?” I felt obliged to ask out of courtesy. I looked at my watch and realized my appointment was running late. That wasn’t a good sign for someone who intended to be my right hand.

“I moved here from Los Angeles, but I’m originally from St. Paul, Minnesota,” Jade said.

“There aren’t a lot of black people up there.”

“You got that right. That’s why I hauled ass right after I graduated from high school.” She looked me directly in the eyes like she was sizing me up, and I couldn’t tell if she was flirting with me.

“Did you go to college in Los Angeles?”

“No, I’m not the college type. I took a few acting classes and gave modeling a try like everyone else there.” Jade moved her
chair back a few inches from the table and crossed her slender legs. She was wearing a cute plaid, pleated skirt with a slight split that revealed her thigh. I thought to myself, if I was into girls this would be the type for me. She was pretty and I could tell that she had a wicked sense of humor.

“Have you been in any movies, or did you meet anybody famous when you were in Los Angeles?”

“I did a lot of extra work, and once Denzel Washington and his wife came in the restaurant where I was a hostess. I used to see a lot of rappers and hip-hoppers when I went to the clubs.”

“I would think Los Angeles would be nice for a pretty girl like you. What brought you to New Orleans?”

“I got bigger fish to fry, and I need to catch my fish before everybody comes back here,” she said with a grin.

“I heard that. Sounds like you got a plan.”

“Miss Jade’s always workin’ on a plan.”

“You think people will?” I asked.

“Will what?”

“Come back to New Orleans.”

“I think so, but not until after the white folks buy all the real estate so they can sell and rent it back to poor black people for more than it’s worth.”

For someone who had only completed high school, Jade sounded like she had a good head on her shoulders, even if she looked like the sports groupies who hung outside the locker room after games or in hotel lobbies.

“Have you found a job here?” I asked.

“No. You got one for me?” she said, laughing.

“I don’t think so.” I finally took a bite of my sweet, doughy breakfast treat covered with powdered sugar.

“You found a job yet?”

“Who said I was looking for a job?” I asked.

“If you don’t have a job, why are you sitting in this café at ten o’clock in the morning? Are you independently wealthy? That must be nice,” she said.

“I don’t have it like that,” I said, fibbing a bit.

“What do you do?”

I wiped the powdered sugar from my mouth. “I’m an interior designer.” The truth was that I was a kept man who did a little charity work on the side, but that would take too much explaining. Besides, I didn’t like the term “kept.” I knew that I could take care of myself if I had to.

“That sounds like fun.”

“I enjoy it,” I said.

“Where do you live?”

“I have a place in the Quarter.”

“You must be a big baller, staying in the Quarter. I’m living in an SRO hotel but I’m going to get me a place once I get a job and a car.”

“You got any leads?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m on my way for a second interview as a cock-tail waitress at the casino. I heard that you make good tips and I figure it will do until I get the job I came here for. I got some other skills.” Jade smiled mischievously.

“You mind sharing with me?” I smiled back. Right as she was getting ready to respond, my cell phone rang and I asked Jade to excuse me.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Richardson, this is Doyle Johnson. I was going to meet you at ten A.M.”

“Yeah, Doyle. I’m waiting for you,” I said, looking at my watch. It was now close to 10:30.

“Sorry, but I’ve been waiting for the bus for over an hour. These assholes haven’t showed up yet.”

“You don’t have a car? What about a cab?”

“I don’t have a car and I can’t afford a cab even if I could get one to come to my neighborhood.”

“Would you like to reschedule?” I asked politely. In my mind I knew that Doyle had just lost his chance to be my assistant, but I didn’t want to tell him that now. I really didn’t need an assistant anyway, and it would just be another person for Dray to worry about finding out about the two of us.

“Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll call you when I have some more time. Have a nice day.” I clicked off my phone and returned my attention to Jade. “Now where were we?”

“I was going to tell you about the job I really came here to get, and my special skills.”

“Oh, yeah. What job and skills?”

“You’re going to laugh,” Jade warned.

“No, I won’t.” I pulled a small piece from my beignet and popped it in my mouth.

“You might think I’m crazy,” Jade said, looking bashful all of a sudden.

“I promise I won’t,” I assured her.

“Okay, you have a nice face and I think I can trust you.”

I leaned in closer to her and gave her an “Okay, tell me” look.

“Which do you want to know first?”

“Tell me about your special skills.”

“Oh, that’s easy. I’m psychic, and I’m pretty sure we’re meeting for a reason.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna have something to do with your love life.”

“Who said I have a love life?”

“You do.”

“So how are you going to do that?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Okay, I can live with that. So tell me about this big job you came here for.”

She took a deep breath before releasing her big announcement. “I came here to be Mrs. Reggie Bush.”

“You mean the football star?”

“Yep, that would be him.”

“Do you know him?”

“Not yet,” Jade said, intimating that it was only a matter of time.

“Isn’t he dating that Kardashian girl?”

“That big-booty gold digger,” Jade said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Baby, please.”

“Do you have a plan?” I asked, intrigued by my new friend. I’d heard of girls moving to a city to meet local celebrities, especially football and basketball players, but I’d never actually met one. Dray called them jock sniffers or cleat chasers.

“I do, but I’m keeping that to myself. Oh, shit,” she said, with a glance at the huge clock on the wall. “If I don’t leave now, I’m go-ing to be late for my interview.” Jade grabbed her fake Louis Vuit-ton bag, rose from the table, and took a final swig of her coffee.

“You gonna leave me hanging?”

“We’ll see each other again,” she said, and just like that she darted out of the café and into the steamy New Orleans morning.

In spite of the heat, I took a leisurely stroll through the Quarter. By the time I got home, I was soaking wet from the humidity. I cooled down with a shower, and when I got out I could hear one of my cell phones ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.”

“Mama, where are you calling me from? The number came up as private.”

“I’m at the department store. I was looking for a dress for Bella’s sweet-sixteen party and I wanted to know if I had a limit,” Mama asked. I could tell she was clearly hoping there wasn’t one.

“No, you don’t have a limit,” I said. This was one of the more enjoyable fringe benefits of having a rich boyfriend, being able to take care of my mother and little sister. But even if I didn’t have Dray, I still would be able to make a decent living on my own. Thank God for my degrees.

“Okay, because I see this cute black lace dress with a pink underlining and they have them in both Bella’s and my size.”

“Does she still wear a zero?” I asked playfully.

“Yes, that dancing keeps that girl rail thin.”

“I was thinking about surprising her in the next couple of days. They have a little more work to do on my place and so I was thinking about getting out of this hot city.”

“It’s hot up here in Raleigh too, baby. I think it’s hot everywhere.”

“Thank God for central air,” I said.

“But come on. We’d love to see you and get to hug that neck of yours.” Just as I was getting ready to tell her I was coming up soon, the phone that Dray called me on rang.

“Hold on a second, Mama.”

“Okay, baby.”

I picked up the other phone and clicked it on. “Hello?”

“What’s up, AJ?”

“Hey, Dray. What up?”

“Check the flights to Los Angeles and get the first thing you can.”

“What?”

“I’m in Los Angeles working a camp with some of the Lakers players. They hooked me up with a nice suite in Beverly Hills.” Then, in the low sexy voice he used when he wanted me, Dray said, “It will give me some time to give you da business.” I’d not heard from Dray all week and the thought of a few days alone with him got me excited just thinking about it. “Give me da business” was the term Dray used for really putting it down in the bedroom.