Read Love on the Run Online

Authors: Zuri Day

Love on the Run (4 page)

6
“Hey man, where are you?” Gregory's raised voice cut through the din of the noise in the private club.
“On my way,” Michael replied.
“You said you'd be here an hour ago.”
“Didn't you get my text? The meeting ran late.”
“Did it run into the bedroom?”
“Ha! My rule about not mixing business with pleasure has not been broken. They still there?”
“Yes, but your girl is being seriously hit on by one of my colleagues. You might want to add some urgency to your stroll.”
“Trust me, her having a distraction is a good thing,” Michael replied, walking into his dressing room and pulling out black slacks to replace his casual jeans. “Have you already forgotten what I told you earlier? That she's been asking about moving into marital territory?”
A bit of silence, and then, “Y'all have been messing around off and on since high school. I'd say that's a fair question.”
“Really? Did I miss your and Lori's wedding announcement?”
“Come on, bro. That's a totally different story.”
“Why, because it stars you instead of me?”
“Because Lori isn't interested in marriage and motherhood; she's all about being Miss Hollywood, which suits me just fine.”
“Yeah, whatever, man.” Michael looked at his screen as a beep signaled an incoming call. “Gregory, I've got to go. This is the call I've been waiting for.”
“Please don't tell me it's another client.”
“Okay, I won't. I'll text you when I'm on my way.”
Michael clicked over to take the call from China, and the superstar basketball player who'd soon be playing for the Nevada Nighthawks. “
N
h
o,
Huang Chen,” he answered in his best broken Mandarin Chinese.
“Z
nmeyàng?”
All thoughts of partying left as Michael listened to this potentially lucrative client tell him exactly what was up.
 
 
Browsing the store's interestingly stuffed aisles, Shayna pulled out her phone. She could just imagine her roommates with their heads together, trying to guess what had happened during her meeting with Michael. A smile reached her lips as she turned on the phone and looked at the screen. Missed calls from both Talisha and Britt. And messages, too! Without scrolling any farther, she accessed her voice mail, clicked her hands-free device, and listened as she browsed.
The automated recording announced that she had fifteen new messages. Shayna stifled a huff, remembering the calls she'd ignored on the way to the appointment with Michael.
“New message.”
“Baby, it's—” Shayna quickly pushed the Delete button.
“New message.”
“Shayna, why aren't you—”
Delete.
“New message.”
“You're pissing me off—”
Delete.
More calls from
him,
Tee, Britt, Coach, until she got to the fourteenth message.
“Shayna—Michael Morgan.” Why at the mere sound of his voice did her hot spot just do a happy dance? “Just called to let you know how much I enjoyed our meeting, sharing dinner, and getting to know you a little better. By this time next year, everyone will know you by one name—Shayna. Although I still like Shayna the Sprintress. Ha! Have a great weekend. We'll talk next week.”
Still smiling, Shayna reached the back wall of the store. It was filled with masks. She picked one up, walked the short distance to the mirror, and lifted the mask to her face as she listened to the next message.
“Shay, it's Britt.”
“And Tee,” Talisha chimed in. “Yes, we're calling again—”
“—and together this time. We know you have a story,” Brittney continued, “since you've had your phone turned off for the last two hours.”
“Three,” Talisha corrected. “And since you've been with that fine-ass Michael Morgan. Girl, you know you'd better call us back and—”
Laughing, Shayna hit the Call-back key. Talisha answered on the first ring. “Ha! Dang, girl. Were you just sitting there staring at the phone, waiting for me to call?”
“Please,” Talisha responded. “It's not even that deep. I just got off the phone with Cameron. He's on his way to pick me up.”
“Cool that.”
A beat and then, “So?”
“So what?”
“Shay, quit playing.” Shayna laughed. Talisha was quiet, and Shayna thought it was probably because she hadn't sounded this carefree in quite some time.
“You must have got some.”
“Some what?” Shayna asked coyly.
“Whoa! Did you bang the baton, girl? You didn't!” Silence. “Did you?”
Shayna swallowed her laughter. She loved teasing her roommates, especially nosy, gossipy Talisha, almost as much as she loved running track. “The meeting went very well.”
Talisha squealed. Her voice dropped low. “Is he big, girl?”
Shayna pictured Michael's broad shoulders, big hands and feet.
“Very
.
”
“Are you still at his house?”
She was sorely tempted to keep up the ruse, but figured enough for now. “We're getting together next week.” And then, because she couldn't resist, “His lips are amazing.” She didn't lie. Every time his eloquently delivered words had spilled out of that mouth, she'd imagined what other feats those thick, cushy lips could perform.
“I'm so mad at you. Okay, I'm jealous. But you did say that there was no way you'd ever get involved with someone you worked with again. I don't blame you, though. . . .”
Shayna's headset beeped. She continued listening to Talisha while pulling out her phone, trying to still her heart even as she hoped it was Michael.
Why? He didn't need to be calling her. She wasn't interested in him like that!
Yeah, right. And if anybody believed that, then they also believed that Biggie, Tupac, and Michael were alive. Shayna's hopes fell as she looked at the screen. Him. Again. She opened the message, intending to delete without reading. But the succinctly worded sentence caught her attention. And momentarily stopped her breath.
I'm not going to keep being ignored. One way or another . . . we're going to talk.
An image of the black beamer she thought she'd seen earlier popped into her mind. Shayna's head whipped around to the front of the store, eyes scanning the aisles.
That couldn't have been him, could it? Shayna stop tripping; that was hours ago. Besides, he's not like that.
Still, she placed the mask back on the shelf and walked to the next aisle. There were wigs and colorful hats with dreadlocks hanging from the rims, and a couple customers. . . but no one familiar. She knew her ex-boyfriend almost as well as she knew herself, and he wasn't normally prone to violence or other uncool acts, like stalking. But ever since the Olympics and the subsequent media coverage she'd received, he'd started acting like a full-fledged fool. But there was no way he'd try and force her to meet with him if she didn't want to. Would he?
Then just what did his ‘one way or another' message mean?
“. . . crying if he breaks your heart because, baby, I'm not going to be the one who helps you. . . .Shayna, are you listening?”
“Tee, I've got to go.”
Shayna could tell that Talisha had instantly picked up the mood change. “What's wrong?” All humor was gone from her voice.
“Nothing, I just . . .” She quickly searched every aisle in the store. He wasn't there.
Of course not.
“What is it, Shay?”
Shayna had no intention of answering that question. Her friends had already dealt with too much of this particular drama. Those last few days before they'd moved to the new place, when her ex showed up on their doorstep at all times of day and night, the roommates' lives had been madness. Had it not been for Talisha's boyfriend, Cameron, one incident in particular may have gotten way out of hand. And when Shayna had finally gathered the courage to break up with him, to tell him that she was leaving him for good, that it was over and she meant it, she vowed they'd never again go through something like that because of her. Summoning up her bravest voice, she responded, “It's nothing, Talisha. Is that the doorbell I hear? Go on out with Cameron and have a good time—but wait. Is Britt at home? I'm too excited about my meeting to go to bed early,” she continued in a rush, before Talisha could once again think that something was amiss. “Maybe she'll want to find something to get into.” Shayna refused to acknowledge any form of fear where her ex was concerned, but she did admit his message had left her rattled. Hanging out with Brittney would help put his nonstop calling and crazy texting out of her mind.
Shayna heard Talisha greet Cameron before she replied, “No, she went over to her mother's house to see her sister's new baby.”
Right, Brittney's an aunt for the second time.
Shayna quickly told herself that she was wearing her big girl panties and had no problem being home alone.
He doesn't know where you live, Shay,
she silently reminded herself, even as she finally acknowledged a tinge of fear she had for the man with whom she'd grown up. He'd never been violent. Had never given her reason to be afraid of him. But that was before she'd scored at the Olympics, before her status had increased worldwide, before, she imagined, he saw visions of money bags dancing in his head. In his mind, she'd left him because with her gold medals she suddenly felt as though she was too good for him, as if his possessive domineering behavior, and the woman's panties she'd found on her first night back home after deciding to change the sheets, hadn't played a role at all. That's when the phone calls had ratcheted up to harassment levels, and when she'd cut off all contact as a result.
“Shay, you sure you're all right?”
“I'm fine. Go on, have fun. Tell Cameron I said hi.”
Shayna hung up the phone and, as casually as one could be while looking for someone suddenly acting like Charles Manson's stepchild, she moseyed to the front of the store and pretended to look at the postcards, magnets, and shot glasses displayed near the front. Her intent gaze, however, was on the sidewalk just beyond the window. Darkness covered the shadows, but a bright light in front of the building, plus the neon signs across the street, gave her a fairly good view of the area around her. She didn't see him.
And why would I? That man is just trying to get under my skin . . . jealous of my happiness and wanting to bring me down to his ignoramus level.
Shayna refused to let that happen. So after taking another turn around the store, she retrieved the mask she'd earlier admired, purchased it, and waved a cheery good-bye to the cashier as she stepped out the door. Looking to her right, left, and across the street, and determining that the coast was clear, she quickly walked the short distance to her car. She used the remote to unlock the door, and was just two steps away when a strong, determined hand wrapped around her upper arm.

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