Hook'd (5 page)

"Because...look at you." She gestured her hands up and down his frame.

"What? I'm not attractive?"

"Barely."

"Oh, really now?" He smirked, amused.

She knew damn well she was lying through her teeth. Muscular built, dark chocolate skin, even height, with a face sculpted to perfection, the man was blessed. Not to mention, how attractive he looked clothed in his casual black crew neck T, emphasizing the definition of his muscular upper frame, with his dark jeans and black Prada shoes on his feet sharpening his attire. He wore a simple diamond chain around his neck, and diamond studs in each ear, a far cry from the usual ridiculous jewelry he usually sported. He looked so...regular. And goodness, he wore it so well.

"Yet, you're undressing me with your eyes."

She snapped out of her trance. "Please. Don't flatter yourself."

"Okay, so you won't go out with me because you don't find me attractive. And I thought I was shallow."

"It's not just that. It's everything about you. You're arrogant, misogynistic, cocky. And this whole... 'every girl wants me, I'm the best in the world' persona you have going on, is very unattractive."

Her cold words flew out her mouth like knives but not once did he flinch. Or even seem bothered. He appeared amused, even. As his eyes squinted and the smirk curling his lips deepened, the more she insulted him. It was as if he took her for some kind of joke. And that bothered her. 

"Not to mention you rape women."

This time he flinched.

"I never raped a fucking woman," his sharp tone cut through her like a blade.

And there it was. His hot button.

She could've pushed it. But she didn't. He was already fuming. Judging by his twitching jaw, the fire in his eyes and that thick vein bulging across that...smooth, tempting neck…

He stepped closer, and she paused.

"Are you always this disrespectful?"

He was a little too close for her liking. She shifted a bit, tempted to tell him to move away. With his elbow propped on the table, his body grazed hers as he encompassed her space, emitting waves of heat through her core from his proximity. Her breath hiked to her throat, as she fell into the dark pools of his penetrating eyes. His gaze slowly dipped to her breasts and his tongue glided across his bottom lip. A sudden rush of heat surfaced between her legs, and she broke her gaze, frustrated.

"Look, for the last time, I'd like to be left alone. I was doing quite fine before you got here." She turned away, aggravated at her body’s reaction to him.

"Oh right. Like, waiting for your date."

"Yes, waiting for my date."

"Who still hasn't shown up, yet."

"He's on his way," she snapped, annoyed.

"Well, while you wait let me get you a drink."

"What?"

He faced the bartender. "Aye let me get a—"

"I'm fine."

"Another Mojito for the lady, and a Goose on the rocks for me."

Was he serious?

She frowned. "You really have a problem with listening don't you?"

He smiled with a shrug. Why she was even entertaining this fool, she had no clue. She didn't even understand why he was here bothering her. She was sure he had something else better to do. Like fondling his groupies somewhere.

"Why are you even over here? Where's the rest of your entourage?" She asked, realizing he was indeed alone. Which was quite odd. Especially for someone of his status.

"They didn't come with me. I was just here with my boy, but he left, so..." He shrugged, tipping the bartender who slid him the drinks. Cameron turned to her, handing her the glass. "Here you go." She almost told him to shove it right up his ass. But despite herself, she reluctantly accepted it.

"So, when are we gonna make this date happen?"

She gulped. "What?"

"Our date. What time is good for you?"

She laughed. He had to be out of his mind.

"I'm not sure if I made this clear, but I'll say it again, that's
never
going to happen. Ever."

He simply nodded without a word, twirling his glass. She was sure that bruised his ego, and she hoped it did. He was probably so used to women inflating his ego on a daily basis. Well, he met the wrong one.

"Can I ask you something?"

She rolled her eyes. "What?"

"When was the last time you got some dick?"

She coughed as the liquid clogged her windpipe, and quickly patted her chest. Clearing her throat, she gathered herself together.

"Excuse me, what?"

"When was the last time you—?"

"How dare you ask me that?" she spat, offended.

"Just curious."

"That's none of your damn business."

"So, I'm guessing it's been a few years."

Her mouth dropped. She almost threw her drink at him.

"Listen to me," she pointed a finger in his face. "I'm not one of your little groupies that you can talk to however you like. Don't you ever disrespect me like that."

"I just asked a simple question. How did I disrespect you?"

"You just asked me about my sex life."

"We're both grown here."

"You don't even know me."

"So, how about we change that?" He licked his lips.

He repulsed her. What a crude son of a bitch!

"You know what? I had enough of you for one night." She gathered her things and stood on her feet. He smirked, watching her. She shot him a glare. "Go to hell, Cameron."

"It's Cam," he corrected.

"Cameron!"

She spun around and left, disregarding his grin as she did.

"So, as you've all been informed, Brisco Cooperation will no longer be funding us after this quarter," Reese somberly announced to her board members.

Unfortunately, the prestigious construction company would be closing down due to bankruptcy, which left them without another source of funding.

Her board consisted of 7 elected officials, whose main objective was to ensure that the organization ran effectively. Each member had their own roles to fulfill, from a financial standpoint, legal standpoint, and marketing standpoint. Her team shared her vision. And with their help, Free the Heart was sure to ascend to even greater heights.

The meeting took place within the boardroom of Free the Heart headquarters. A four story building, located in Downtown Manhattan, with 5 different departments housing at least 100 staff members in total. While the actual shelter was located in South Bronx, this was the place where business got handled. Where policies were administered on all fronts.

"That was our major sponsor," Lillian, the appointed Vice President spoke up. "I mean without their funding, the organization is going to take a pretty major hit."

"No, not necessarily. Non-profits gain and lose sponsors all of the time, that's just the way it is. I think we'll do fine," the treasurer, Ben responded.

"Ben's right," Reese agreed. "Fortunately, the city's still providing us with grants, and we're still receiving donations from various charities. We'll just have to continue pushing forward. If that means writing 100 more grant proposals, or setting up more charity events, then we'll do it."

"I actually have an idea regarding that," Niyah, the chairman of the marketing committee, raised her hand.

"Go ahead." Reese nodded in approval.

"Well, myself and the marketing team have been discussing different events we could do to raise money. And a few of the members came up with the idea of a concert."

"Hmm." Reese tilted her head at the thought.

"I mean, summer's around the corner. And right now, the weather is gorgeous.  Why not start the season off with a big event? If we could have the hottest celebrity at the moment to perform, that would surely draw in a crowd."

"I like that."

The rest of them agreed.

"We could reach out to some connects, and of course we’d have to calculate the cost and see if it's within our budget, but that sounds like a great idea," Reese encouraged.

*

"Cam are you listening?"

He snapped out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

Yasmine hissed her teeth. "Did you even hear a word I said?"

"Yeah, I heard you."

"No, you didn't."

"Nah, I heard you for real. Go on."

With a sigh, she continued to explain how he should conduct himself for the upcoming interview for
Good Morning America
, tomorrow. This interview was imperative because it would be aired live on television in front of millions, allowing him another chance to tell his story again. He really was getting sick of all these interviews, especially if they had nothing to do with promoting a boxing event of some sort. But Yasmine was trying her best to revamp his tainted image, so he had to trust her to do that. But even as they sat in her office discussing it, his mind kept veering off to her friend. He couldn't even remember her name. But her face...that stuck with him since their little encounter at the lounge, a couple nights ago.

She really was something else.

He wasn't used to women turning him down like that. He was Cameron Lewis. The heavyweight boxing champion of the world. Didn't she know he could have any woman at his disposal? Who did she think she was? Just off the strength of his ego, he should’ve left it alone. But for some reason, he was intrigued.

Realizing he had drifted off again, he focused on Yasmine to find her still blabbering. What was she talking about again?

"So, are we good?" she asked with a final breath.

"Uh, yeah."

"Okay, good." She stood up and began packing her things. "Anyway, I don't know about you, but it's my lunch time and I'm starving."

"Alright cool, let me treat you." He got up.

"Nu-uh, thanks but no thanks."

"Why not?"

"Because, it's a business lunch and you don't need to be there. Sorry."

He placed his hand on his chest. "Ouch, Yas. I'm hurt."

"Boy please." She rolled her eyes.

He snickered. The truth was, he didn't have time to sit and have lunch anyway. He had to go meet with Slick in a few to discuss business, then meet with his trainer for some more daily conditioning.

"Aye, before you go I wanna ask you something." He sat at the edge of her desk.

"What is it?"

"Whatsup with ya homegirl?"

"Who?"

"The brown skinned one."

"I have a lot of brown skinned homegirls." She placed her things in her bag.

"The one that runs that whole..." He motioned his hands as he tried to remember. "Women's shelter thing."

"Oh, Reese? Yeah, what about her?"

"Hook me up with her."

"What?" She stopped with a raised brow, then laughed.

"I'm serious."

She shook her head. "Nope, hell no."

"Why not?"

"Because, she doesn't want you."

He frowned. “And how do you know that?"

"Trust me, you are not her type."

His mood fell.

The hell did she mean he wasn't her type?

She grabbed her bag, keys, then headed for the door. He quickly followed her, grasping her arm to stop her.

"Wait, wait, wait," he spoke and she turned to him with a sigh. "What do you mean I'm not her type?"

"You're not, Cam."

"How? Shit, I got money, I'm successful, I'm famous. And I damn sure ain't ugly. I mean, what else could she want?"

"See, that's what I'm talking about. That whole, 'I got money, I'm rich, I'm famous', thing, she's not impressed by that."

"Alright, so what is she impressed by?"

"Uh, how about something real?"

"Like what?"

"Like things that matter outside of money. Like morals, values, respect. What can you actually bring to the table besides your bank account? Despite what you may think, not all women can be bought with material things. Something to think about." She tapped his chest then turned to the door.

"Wait, so what are you saying? I ain't real enough for her? I got morals and values."

Yasmine burst into laughter, and he clenched his jaw, offended that she would even take this as a joke.

"I'm serious."

With a sigh, she faced him. "Look Cam, you're a nice guy...sometimes. But, seriously just let it go. For one, you got too many groupies to be worrying about dating my friend. And two, after that whole fiasco you pulled at the restaurant, you shouldn't even be seen with her at all. So, let's just focus on what's important right now. Like getting your career back to where it needs to be. That's what matters most."