Hook'd (6 page)

"I mean, what do you think I should do? Should I just leave him or try to work things out?" Lillian gnawed her nail, shifting restlessly in her seat. "You're the only person I can come to about this. I'm sure you'd know what to do in this situation."

Damn her, for agreeing to listen to Lillian's problems today. With as much work that she had to get done, she honestly didn't have the energy nor patience to sit and listen to her cry over her broken marriage. Especially over her husband's infidelity. This wasn't the first time. More times than not, Lillian would barge into her office to discuss her marital issues. And at this point, she was sick of it. The one thing she couldn't stand, was a weak woman. If this was a situation of abuse, she would've had much more compassion. In fact, on a daily basis, she counseled battered women on how to regain their power after undergoing such tumultuous relationships. But cheating? Please. At damn near 40 years old, Lillian should've known better. There was no excuse.

This was exactly why she tried not to blur the professional lines at her job. She was all for showing support for her team. But this whole Oprah moment? Too far.

"He slept with your best friend, Lillian."

Lillian flinched at the painful reminder.

"That's the lowest of the low. To even consider working out your marriage at this point, would be foolish."

She lowered her head as more tears fell down her rosy cheeks. With a sigh, Reese reached across her desk for her box of tissues and handed some to her. Lillian thanked her and wiped her face.

"You deserve better. You know that," she said in a softer tone.

"I just don't know what I did wrong. I was the perfect wife. I cooked, I cleaned, I supported him through his whole career. I did everything I could for him. Everything he asked. Now, this..." She raked her fingers through her brunette tresses.

"See that's the problem. You gave him everything
he
wanted.
He
needed. What about your needs? Did he do the same for you?"

She shook her head.

"You can't give a man all of your power. The moment you do, they take advantage of it and you end up here, crying and wondering what went wrong."

Lillian sobbed harder. Her words cut like daggers. And she wanted them to. She needed to wake up and hear the truth.

"Look, now's not the time to be moping and crying. Trust me, he's not doing the same for you. It's time to take your control back. You have to pick yourself up and realize that you deserve better. I mean look where we are, Lillian..." Reese motioned her hands around, and Lillian's glassy blue eyes scanned around the office. "What's the number one mission of Free the Heart?"

"To empower," she whispered.

"Exactly. To empower. You know how many women that are out there that need our help? How do you expect to empower them, if you haven't done so yourself?"

Lillian fell silent as her words resonated within.

"Just think about why you're here in the first place. You can't let what's going on, steer you away from your purpose."

She slowly nodded. "You're right."

Reese glanced at the clock on her wall. "So, are we good?"

"Yes. Thank you so much, I needed to hear that." Lillian wiped her eyes then stood up. "Can I give you a hug?"

With a low sigh, Reese nodded and stood up. Lillian walked around her desk and embraced her. Reese tensed a bit, patting her back.

"You'll be fine." She pulled away.

"Thank you." Lillian held her hands, her warm blue eyes locking with hers. "I don't know how you always manage to stay so strong, but it's admirable. And that's the type of spirit we need for this organization. So again, thank you."

Reese gave a soft smile, her heart warming at her words. After a while, she stepped back, realizing this moment had lasted longer than she intended.

"Anyway, we have a lot of work to get done, so let's get to it."

"Yeah you're right," Lillian flashed a smile, then walked toward the door. "See you in a bit."

Reese gave her a brief wave. 

When she left the office, Reese rolled her eyes and plopped herself in her seat. Finally.

Quickly getting into business mode, she picked up her office phone and called Yasmine. She needed to figure out if she had finally been able to reach out to the artists like she had asked.

"Hello?" Yasmine answered.

"So, any luck?"

"Nope."

Her mood dampened. "Seriously, Yas? As many celebrities you know in the industry? Not one?"

"Girl, it ain't that easy to just get them to hop on board. They all have busy schedules. And honestly, half of the artists you asked for aren't even my clients. You gotta speak to their management about that."

"Great," she said with a sigh.

"I'll keep asking around. Hopefully, someone would come through."

"Alright, thanks."

They said their goodbyes then hung up. Reese hunched over her desk, running her fingers through her hair. She was really hoping Yasmine would've been able to come through for her. With as many connections she had in the industry, there had to be at least one popular celebrity that would be a viable candidate for the upcoming event. Her marketing committee, of course were on their job, reaching out to whatever contacts they could. But they too, had received no luck just yet. If they could get at least two artists to perform, it would just be what Free the Heart needed.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

She sat up, adjusting her blazer. "Come in."

The door opened, and her assistant, Naomi peaked in.

"Hey, don't mean to disturb you. But you received another one from Mr. You-Know-Who..." She widened the door, and Reese grimaced at the bouquet of roses in her hand, not even bothering to ask. She knew exactly who it was from.

"Get rid of it."

She nodded. "Okay."

"And if he sends anymore, throw it out. I don't want to see them."

"Sure thing, Ms. Wilson." She turned around then shut the door.

Lawrence really had the audacity to send her flowers. Couldn’t he just get the hint that she wasn’t interested? The man had a wife. There was no way in hell she would ever consider it. She didn't care that he was the councilman of the city. 

She first met Lawrence about a year ago. His people had reached out to her with the interest of him giving an appearance at one of the events her organization had set up. He had been running for the spot of councilman at the time. And although, she had never been a fan of politics, she gladly agreed.

Again, the more publicity, the better.

He had donated money and made appearances, which benefited his campaign while benefiting her organization at the same time. He won the election. And they still managed to remain in touch. But her reasoning, was for strictly business. Just in case she needed a favor, he was just one call away. Having a strong network was important in this business, so she learned to never burn bridges. However, being a typical man, that didn't stop him from trying to hit on her.  Ever so often he would send her gifts, or leave messages in hopes of taking her out.

And she turned him down. Every time.

She didn't care how fine or successful he was. He had a wife. Where was the damn respect?

Men.

Reese refocused herself back to her work, and turned on her computer. She was sure she had a ton of emails, as usual. She just hoped one of them was news she wanted to hear. When she opened up her Yahoo account, she froze at the article on her homepage. It was a picture of Cameron seated across Robin Roberts, with the bold title:
Cameron Lewis on Good Morning America
. She rolled her eyes. When was this man not on the news?

Her mind drifted back to that night at the lounge two weeks ago. The night she almost threw a drink at his face. The audacity of him. He turned out to be everything she thought he was. But she wasn't surprised at all. Did she actually expect him to be some wholesome gentlemen?

She stared at his picture, gnawing her nail in deep thought. She wondered if...

She quickly erased the thought.

Of course not. That would be foolish.

No way in hell she would ever think to even ask him.

Definitely not.

*

She was officially stupid. She couldn't possibly think this was a good idea. Why?!?

Reese chewed her nail as she followed the direction of her GPS. She hoped this thing was leading her the right way. She slowly turned the left on the next block, cruising slowly in search of his boxing gym.

The longer she drove, the more she urged to turn back. Why the hell was she even doing this? Was she this desperate?

Yes.

Yes, she was.

It took every bit of her pride to go looking for him. She had sworn to herself that she would never step within 10 feet of his rude ass. But at this point she could really use his help, as much as it pained her to admit it. Camron was a star. With a lot of money. If she could convince him to donate to Free The Heart through the sponsorship of his foundation, it would be a blessing. Also, she was hoping he could reach out to one of his celebrity friends that would be willing to perform at the concert.

This would probably never work. And she was sure this would just blow up in her face. But it wouldn't hurt to try. Right now, it wasn't about her. It was for the best interest of the organization. It always was.

According to Google, he owned a boxing gym in Fordham, Bronx. She wasn't even sure he would be there. Her better judgement would've been to ask Yasmine instead of taking it upon herself to make a trip all the way here. But, it was too late for that.

Much to her relief, she arrived at the place. The beige cemented building stood amongst the commercial stores within the busy area, stationed near the shopping center only a few blocks away. The moderately sized building, was titled with bold red letters: C.Lewis’s Boxing Gym.

She peered through the tinted glass doors in search of any activity inside. But saw nothing due to the opacity. With a sigh, she parked her car, stepped outside and walked toward the building. Her heels clamped the concrete with each step she took. She fluffed her spiked styled hair, then smoothed out her attire out of habit. With her white, knee length body con dress shaping her curvaceous frame, adorned with her turquois jacket and matching hued pumps to sharpen her appearance, she looked professionally chic as always. Even if she was just seeing Mr. Asshole Lewis, she still had to be presentable.

She opened the door, only to meet two muscular security guards by the entrance.

"Can I help you?" The baldheaded, brown skinned man voiced, in an overly deep baritone that would give Barry White a run for his money. He looked oddly familiar. And in that moment, she recognized him from the restaurant as part of Cameron's security detail. The one who pushed an angered Cameron out, before he could make any more of a fool of himself.

"Um, I was hoping to see Cameron. Is he here by any chance?"

"He's busy right now."

"Well, I just wanted to talk to him about something. It's important."

"No groupies during his work out."

She scowled, offended.

“For your information, I'm not a groupie. I'm a—"She stopped, realizing how harsh she came off. Forcing a sweet smile, she tilted her head. "I'm not here for that. It's about business. I promise it won't take any more than 10 minutes."

The man assessed her frame, his gaze lingering on her breasts. If this were any other time, she would've turned away in pure disgust. But times like these, she used her gender to her advantage. If he were like any man, he would cave at the sight of a beautiful woman. Men were weak like that.

"I would really..." She whispered, stepping a bit closer. "
Really
appreciate it, if you could do me that favor."

After a moment, he nodded. "This way."

She eased with relief and followed him through the spacious main entrance. She looked around, amazed at the cream marble floors, black hued plush seats and the gold hued front desk, in which an auburn haired receptionist was seated. Large pictures of Cameron Lewis were plastered on the walls, displaying photographs of his past fights. There was even a life sized golden statue of himself posted at the corner. She was in awe. It was like a Cameron Lewis kingdom.

He led her to the wooden double doors, then opened them. In that instant, pounding sounds of rap music welcomed her at the entrance. The gym was spacious, built with a boxing ring in the center of the room, and occupied with equipment such as heavy bags, speedbags, and other exercise machines.

And there he was.

At the corner of the room, with whom she assumed was his trainer, working out on the pull-up machine. Helplessly, she took notice to that perfectly sculpted body of his, coated in dripping sweat. Dressed in nothing but his white basketball shorts, his muscular upper frame was bare for her to see. Each time he pulled himself up, with his grip on the steel bar, his 6 pack abs bulged only emphasizing their beautiful definition, and she salivated at the sight. Goodness! And that face he made. His thick brows furrowed as he clenched his eyes shut, his nose flaring and teeth plunging his bottom lip, arose warm flutters within her insides. The look of fight. Pain. Focus.