11
IT WAS Monday evening and Yancey had just walked in the door from a class at the Broadway Dance Center and was looking forward to spending the evening with Basil. When she had talked to him right before her dance lesson, Basil suggested he pick up some sushi and come over for a nice bottle of wine and a bath. Instead of Basil, Yancey was greeted by Windsor, whose eyes looked bright and urgent. Her face had only the faintest touch of makeup, and she was wearing a purple bandana as a headband.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” she said.
“Who were you expecting?” Yancey asked.
“Oh, I mean, I need to ask you a big, big favor,” Windsor said.
“What?” Yancey asked. She dropped her dance bag on the floor at the edge of the sofa.
“Can you help me out at Hale House tonight?” Windsor asked. Hale House was an organization in Harlem that housed HIV and drug-addicted babies. Windsor gave her free time there a couple nights a week and also helped schedule other volunteers.
“You need a check or something? Sure, I can do that,” Yancey said as she picked up the mail and looked through it. Realizing it was all bills, she placed them back on the sofa table.
“I’m not asking for a check, even though that would be wonderful. I need you to come up with me and hold the babies.”
“Hold the babies? What are you talking about?”
“Two of my ladies are sick tonight, and I need someone to come up and just hold the babies. You don’t have to read to them or anything. Just hold them. They love being held,” Windsor said with a big warm smile.
“I wish I could, but I have a date this evening with Basil,” Yancey said. She started toward the bar area for a bottle of sparkling water.
“No, you don’t,” Windsor said.
Yancey turned around and quizzed, “What did you say?”
“Basil called and said he was going to be real late because one of his clients came into town unexpectedly and he was taking him to dinner.”
“I can’t believe this shit! What were you doing answering my private line?” Yancey demanded.
“I didn’t. He called me on my phone. He said he knew you were in class.”
“Oh, did he?” Yancey asked curtly. She studied Windsor’s face to try and determine if there was anything smug about the way she was looking at her. There was not. She could feel her own face begin to flush. She couldn’t wait to tell Basil never to cancel their plans with her roommate. He was also due for another lecture on who was first in his life—Yancey, not the three Cs . . . Cade, Campbell, or Clients.
“So, will you help? I promise you won’t regret it. The babies are all just so beautiful.”
Yancey took a few steps and dropped herself on the couch and picked up the remote control before announcing, “I’m going to watch that millionaire show and I don’t do babies. They don’t like me and I don’t like them!”
A surprised and disappointed Windsor turned and walked out the door.
THE
next morning Windsor walked into the kitchen for a glass of juice. Yancey was leaning against the sink, fully made up with a satisfied smile on her face. She was drinking coffee from a black-and-yellow mug from the show
Cats
.
“Good morning. How are you doing?” Yancey asked.
“I’m blessed and highly favored,” Windsor replied as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic jug of cranberry juice.
“I have something for you,” Yancey said. She pulled an envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Windsor.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and see.”
Windsor tore open the light-pink envelope with Yancey’s full name and address personalized in black script lettering. On the inside was a check made payable to Hale House in the amount of fifteen hundred dollars.
“Yancey, this is too much. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Sure. I’m sorry about last night, and I just wanted to do something.” Yancey smiled.
“We appreciate this, but I still think you ought to come and hold the babies.”
Yancey poured herself another cup of coffee. Her back was to Windsor as she said softly, “I told you I’m not good with kids. Maybe the money will help for some baby holders.”
“We don’t pay the volunteers. Don’t you plan to have children when you get married?”
“I’ll deal with that road when I come to it. I don’t even know if I’ll ever get married. Right now all I want to do is concentrate on my career.”
“We sure had you pegged wrong,” Windsor said. She took a sip of her juice.
“What are you talking about?”
“Back at Howard. Some of the girls in the dorm just figured you’d be married with a lot of kids by now to that ROTC guy . . . What was his name?” Windsor asked.
“That was in the past, let’s leave it there. Is that check enough?”
“It’s wonderful, Yancey, thank you. I will drop this check off with Lorraine Hale right after I leave work today,” Windsor said as she moved toward Yancey and covered her slender body with both of her large arms and whispered, “The babies thank you from the bottom of their little hearts.”
12
I WAS IN my office getting ready to call Yancey and apologize for breaking our date when my assistant, Kendra, buzzed me and told me she was on the line. I didn’t know what to expect since she hadn’t picked up her phone after I called her when I got home.
“Hey, baby. Did you miss me last night?” I said.
“Don’t try and give me that baby stuff. I’m mad at you,” Yancey said.
“But you still love me, right?”
“Only if you do something for me.”
“What do you have in mind?” I said in my best Barry White voice.
“Windsor works with these kids at some place called Hale House, and she asked me for a contribution,” Yancey said.
“I know about Hale House. I went to some big dinner they gave a couple of years ago,” I said. “They do great work.”
“Yeah, that’s what Windsor said. I gave her a check this morning ’cause I knew you would want to give.”
“How much did I give?” I asked as I smiled to myself. I love the way Yancey was always concerned with others.
“Five thousand dollars,” Yancey said.
“I’ll give you a check when I see you later this evening.”
“That’s fine, and yes, I still love you,” Yancey whispered.
I was getting ready to tell Yancey I loved her when I noticed Brison tapping at my door.
“I love you, baby, but I got to run,” I said. I hung up the phone and motioned for Brison to enter my office.
“You got a minute?” he asked.
“Sure. Whassup?” Brison still looked as if he could line up on the defense for any NFL team. He was a beefy-faced man with large hands. He was just a little over six six, with toast-brown skin and a bald head. He was the married man in the office and had three children and a beautiful wife, Sherrie, who loved planning parties for the firm. Nico, his brother-in-law, was single. He traveled more than Brison and myself simply because he had ladies in almost every major city in the country. Whenever we had a player who could be easily influenced by a quick piece of ass, Nico knew some woman who was more than willing to fill the player’s request. Brison didn’t think it was the best way to conduct business, but sometimes a beautiful woman, with freak tendencies, could be the difference between a player signing with us or going with the competition. Nico and I hated to lose more than anything.
“When are you going back to the Chicago area?” Brison asked as he sat on my brown overstuffed sofa. My office was hooked up real nice. I had colorful artwork on the walls and a rich redwood conference table with black leather chairs. My desk was a large glasstop with solid brass legs. I also had a couple of antique end tables and lamps that created the feel of an upscale cigar bar.
“I don’t know. I hadn’t planned a trip there anytime soon,” I said.
“Well, there’s a guy there I want you to meet. I think he’d be a great candidate to bring into the firm, either as an employee to open the Chicago office or even as a partner, if he has the amount of money I think he has. He’s a former teammate of mine from the Cougars. Plus he’s really popular in Chicago,” Brison said.
“Does he have any experience representing players?”
“Yeah, and that’s one of the great things about him. He’s with a white agency right now, but looking to leave. He already has two players from Northwestern and that guy Bennie Wilson from Michigan.”
“Bennie Wilson! Man, he’s certain to be a first-round pick.”
“You know, dude, if we could get Bennie as a client we could end up with eight of the first ten picks,” Brison said with a huge smile on his face. “That would drive the white boys wild.”
“So you think right now is the time to expand?”
“I think so. When Nico gets back from his trip we should talk about it in more depth. But I think the Big Ten area is too lucrative not to have some permanent representation there. I mean, Weinberg and company are getting all the players from Michigan to Penn State. I mean, they got those schools locked up tight. I think now is the time to add some local color.”
“I feel you,” I said. I took a look at my desk calendar. Nothing scheduled until late next week. “Look, Brison, I can make a day trip to Chicago and meet with dude.”
“You sure? I would do it, but I promised my son I would coach his peewee team again. Next week is the first practice.”
“No problem. Just tell me where to go.”
“I’ll have Angela set everything up. I also got some background information you can look over on the plane,” Brison said.
“Cool. Who is the dude?”
“His name is Zurich Robinson.”
13
YANCEY HAD just completed her weekly voice lesson and had stopped home to pick up her workout gear. She bounced into her house and was welcomed by a ringing phone. Yancey started to walk into the bedroom where the caller ID display was, but instead she lifted the receiver.
“Hello.”
“Yancey?”
“Yes.” The female voice sounded familiar, but Yancey wasn’t certain.
“Please hold on for Lois,” said Debbie, the personal assistant to Yancey’s agent.
A few seconds later Lois came on the line. “I have wonderful news,” Lois said.
“What? Did you get me an audition with
Sex and the
City
?” She could tell Lois was excited about something and thought it had to be what Yancey wanted so badly.
“No, but I’m still working on that,” Lois said.
“Then what? I hope you’re not calling me for some local commercial or something.”
“No, it’s not a commercial. I just got a call from the producers of
Chicago
in Las Vegas, and they want you to take over the lead when Jasmine Guy leaves the show.”
“What? I don’t want to live in Las Vegas. Have you lost your mind?” Yancey screamed. “I want to be the first one in the lead! I don’t want some role that everybody and their mama have played.”
“Now wait, Yancey. I’m not finished. It’s only for a month and they promise if you do this, you can either come back to Broadway or go to London. I think it’s a great opportunity, because there is no end in sight for this show, and you don’t even have to audition,” Lois said.
“Audition? I know they aren’t foolish enough to ask me to do anything but show up. I know that show like the back of my hand, but why do you think I should do this?”
“Because a lot of Hollywood heavyweights, meaning producers and directors, frequent Vegas all the time. I’ll send out announcement cards and this could lead to some movie roles. You can get to L.A. in less than an hour by plane.”
“I don’t know. You know how much I love New York, and Basil is spending more time here. How much are they offering?”
“I think we’re in a position to name our price,” Lois said confidently.
“Tell them I want fifteen thousand and a percentage of the weekly gross,” Yancey demanded.
“I don’t know if I can do that, I mean the weekly gross thing, but I’ll get you the best deal possible. This could really be big, especially when you come back to New York.”
“See what you can do.” Yancey was always pushing Lois to be more aggressive. If she had the time, she’d be her own agent, manager, and publicist. No one could promote Yancey like Yancey.
“I’ll call them back right now. How long are you going to be home?”
“I’m getting ready to run out.”
“Can you give me thirty minutes?”
“I’ll give you fifteen,” Yancey said and hung up the phone.
A few minutes later the phone rang again while Yancey was preparing some tea.
Damn, that was fast,
she thought. When she picked up the phone, the last thing Yancey was expecting was a voice from her past.
“Is this Yancey Braxton?” a familiar female voice asked.
“This is Yancey. Who’s calling?”
“This is Charlesetta Lewis. You don’t remember my voice?”
“Mrs. Lewis. What a surprise. How are you doing? How’s Derrick?” The question Yancey most wanted to ask the mother of her former longtime boyfriend was how she got Yancey’s unlisted number.
“He’s doing alright. I understand things are going really good for you with your showbiz stuff.”
“Yes, I thought this was a call from my agent. My, it’s been over five years since I heard from you,” Yancey said as she took a seat in the chair next to her phone stand. She placed her free hand on the back of her neck and felt a thin film of perspiration. Her heart was beating at a swifter pace.
“Try six years,” Mrs. Lewis said bluntly. There was no love lost between the two women.
“That long?” Yancey said, stifling a yawn.
“Yancey, I’m not going to beat around the bush. This isn’t a social call, especially since you and me ain’t never been that social.”
“But you said Derrick was fine.” Derrick Wayne Lewis was the man Yancey had fallen madly in love with during her first year at Howard University. They met when Yancey had nervously dropped her registration cards outside the Student Union. When she knelt down to pick them up, Derrick’s strong hand extended the cards with a bright smile. It was a case of love at first touch. For two years it had been the perfect love affair. Yancey had wanted to get married. She was even willing to give up her career in beauty pageants and her dreams of Broadway to create the family she never had. For the very first time in her life Yancey felt
love
. Derrick loved Yancey, but he was in the ROTC and wanted to finish his military requirement before settling down. He had big dreams of becoming a civil engineer and seeing the world with Yancey. He was the first in his family to attend college, and his mother and big sister made sure he stayed focused. When Derrick wanted to propose to Yancey, mother and sister convinced him it was a big mistake. Yancey was devastated.
“I said he was alright, but you need to call him.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I’ll let him explain that. You know he doesn’t like me in his business. But you need to call him soon.”
“I don’t have his number.”
“That’s why I’m calling. His home phone number is 309–555–8888 and his work number is same area code, 555–9282.”
“Isn’t Derrick expecting my call?”
“No, but like I said, you need to call him,” Mrs. Lewis said firmly.
“I will,” Yancey said flatly.
“Soon.”
“I will. I have to go,” Yancey said. She hung up the phone without a good-bye.