Double Dribble (Las Vegas Ramblers #3)

Chapter 1

I’d just touched down in Las Vegas the night before, and the last thing I wanted to do on a random Wednesday was view houses.

But I was officially a Vegas resident after accepting a trade to the Las Vegas Ramblers.

The season would begin in a couple of weeks, and I had no place to live.

My furniture, which was being driven here by Rover’s Rover from Kansas City, was lost in transit.

How exactly does one lose a semi-truck loaded with furniture and personal belongings?

My personal assistant, Nori Booker, worked for weeks to make the transition as easy as possible for me.

I was posted up in a cushy hotel on the Strip.

When I walked out of the airport, an SUV was waiting for me, courtesy of Nike.

And my hotel suite was stocked with my favorite everything right down to the toiletries.

Growing up I wasn’t catered to. I was making my own dinners, mostly franks and beans, by the age of seven because my mom worked and my dad was either drunk or MIA.

Entering the NBA as the top draft pick changed everything.

If I’m being honest, it all started at Grand Summit University.

The solo dorm room, the gift cards to restaurants, and shopping trips to luxury stores my mother would walk past when we were younger and wistfully sigh, “One day.”

The only thing that wasn’t secured was a place to live and that was mostly because I didn’t know what the hell Vegas had to offer. “How many places are we checking out today?” I turned to Nori who was driving us to a private gated community called Canyon Gate.

“We just have one lined up today. The real estate company wanted you to meet your realtor. You’ll tour the property and then the realtor will pick your brain as to what you’re looking for. When they asked me all I could say was your ass was very particular.”

“I just like what I like. Does this realtor know what they’re getting themselves into?”

“Luxe Desert Dwellings comes highly recommended; they are the premier real estate agency in Vegas. They only serve the elite in Nevada. I’m talking about politicians, insta-millionaire entrepreneurs, celebrities, and of course athletes. Trust me you’re in good hands.”

It was a silly question. Nori didn’t leave much to chance.

She was efficient and discreet. At thirty-five she was the oldest assistant I’d interviewed but her résumé was stacked.

She’d been a personal assistant to musicians, actors, and sports figures.

If she could handle the crazy lifestyle of rapper XYZ Baby than my requests were no doubt mild in comparison.

She stopped at the security gate exchanging pleasantries with the guard on duty. “Hello my name is Nori Booker and I’m meeting a realtor from Luxe Dwellings to view one of the homes.” She handed over her driver’s license.

The guard walked back to his air-conditioned booth and did God knows what before returning to our SUV.

“Go straight ahead for a mile and then turn left. Your realtor is already there.” He shifted his head to inspect the inside of our vehicle, more specifically me, before tapping the side of the car and moving back.

“Look at that, twenty-four-hour security so you won’t have to worry about undesirables.

” I nodded unimpressed. As we made our way through the grounds, the streets were lined with mature palm trees solidifying the fact we were no longer in Kansas City.

For some reason palm trees signified wealth to me.

Maybe because they were so foreign from where I grew up in Philly.

Shit like palm trees and police protected communities tucked behind gates was unthinkable when I was a kid.

At twenty-six it was still hard to believe this was my life.

“This is the type of neighborhood a brother would get pulled over in, for just existing.”

“A six-foot five brother like yourself is kind of hard to miss,” Nori teased. “Listen, I know you hate change, but this is a good thing. Vegas is going to take you to the next level.”

“You sound like Art.” Art Fischer was my manager, and he’d negotiated one hell of a deal to get me traded to the Ramblers.

“Promise me you’ll be nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

“No, you’re not. The minute you ain’t feeling something or someone you shut down.”

“I can’t help it if my attention span is compromised. I blame social media.”

Nori pointed to a home that was way too much house for one man. “I think that’s the place.”

“I hate it.”

“You haven’t even seen it.”

“The neighbors are too close. And I bet you they’d call the police at the first sound of loud music.”

“This home is over ten thousand square feet no one is going to hear you bumping Elton John at two in the morning.”

“Don’t disrespect the Rocketman.”

Nori pulled into the curved driveway behind a BMW.

Exiting the vehicle, I examined the facade. I was too focused on this trade and my new team to give much thought to where I wanted to live. But like a knockoff Gucci belt, you just knew it when you saw it. And this home while massive, was giving cookie-cutter. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

At the front door, Nori rang the bell. It took several minutes for a response.

Probably because the floor plan was so huge you had to hoof it so as not to miss visitors who, after waiting for five fucking minutes, would no doubt assume you weren’t home.

When the front door opened, my jaw practically unhinged. “Danessa?”

Her eyes moved past Nori and up toward me, the smile on her face faltering. “Aldridge, what are you doing here?”

Nori’s head was on a swivel. “You two know each other?”

“We went to college together,” I said, my eyes still transfixed on Danessa.

She looked so grown-up in her sleeveless, flowy cream dress.

Her naturally curly hair was silk pressed and swayed side to side as she stepped back from the entryway to let us in.

I wanted to retreat. I’m talking full out sprint down the tree-lined street until I put some serious distance between me and this woman.

“Small world.” Nori chuckled.

Wasn’t shit funny. Danessa standing inches away from me was the worst-case scenario.

As the new kid on the Ramblers, I would be navigating the complicated inner workings of an established team.

Huge egos, lazy players, and a “this is how it’s always been done” mentality.

I was prepared to diffuse some bombs, but Danessa was a landmine under my feet.

“You have no idea.” Turning to Danessa, I said, “So you moved back home after law school?”

“Yeah, that was always the plan.”

“I remember.” I nodded thoughtfully, reminded of Danessa’s last words to me.

“You’re a native. Then it sounds like we are in good hands,” Nori said.

Danessa shook her head, probably shaking loose old memories. “So did you find the place alright?”

“Yes, the directions you provided were very helpful.”

“Great, well this is 4207 Timberline Way in the Canyon Gate community.” Danessa guided us deeper into the living space.

Her mouth was moving, but I was finding it difficult to focus on the actual words.

I hadn’t seen Danessa in over five years.

We spent most of the summer together after graduation and then things deteriorated quickly.

“Canyon Gate is in the southwestern part of Las Vegas, providing close proximity to the Strip. Which a lot of our younger and childfree clients appreciate.”

“So, you’re a realtor now?” I blurted out, clearly still stuck on her and me sharing the same air.

“Yes.”

“Your mother was a realtor?”

Her chestnut eyes sparked at my memory. “That’s right. I started Luxe Desert Dwellings with my mother and sister.”

“Wow, putting that business degree to use.”

Danessa offered me an are you okay smile. “At Canyon Gate you’re also close to the airport. But the best thing about this place is you never have to leave the property because this is a little community all its own with restaurants, a grocery store, gym, and other amenities.”

“I noticed a golf course when we drove in,” Nori said.

“Yes, that’s right, do you golf Aldridge?”

My nose wrinkled at the way she spoke my name. It was empty and devoid of emotion. I was just Aldridge, no longer her Aldi. My name hit differently on her tongue when we were in love.

“I don’t.” And she already fucking knew that.

“Maybe you can learn,” Nori suggested.”

“This property has seven bedrooms and six and a half baths.” In the kitchen she pointed out the newest appliances and unique features and my eyes followed her hand, mainly her ring finger, confirming there weren’t any diamond adornments.

The thought of running into Danessa and then finding out she was married was a blow I would never recover from. Luckily, she was ringless.

“The backyard is massive,” Nori said.

“Yes, great for parties. You have a pool, a spa, outdoor kitchen and a volleyball court that could easily be converted to a basketball court if you prefer.”

“Do you hear that Aldi?” Nori asked in hopes of getting me to engage.

“Yep. Danessa, would you say this is a family friendly neighborhood?”

“Yes, lots of established families live in the community.”

I tsked at the confirmation. “I don’t see it for this place. I appreciate the tour and your time. Thanks, but no thanks.” I prepared to head back the way we came.

Danessa’s lip torqued upward. “Thanks, but no thanks?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen all I need to see.”

“With all due respect, Aldridge—”

“Stop calling me that.”

“What would you have me call you?”

I blinked rapidly. It wasn’t that she was saying my name, but the way she kept saying it that bothered me.

“Aldi, this was just the meet and greet. I’m sure once you and Danessa get to know one another, she’ll have plenty of places lined up that meet your specifications.”

Once we get to know each other? I knew Danessa intimately. This client-realtor shit wasn’t going to work for me. “I don’t think this is a good fit. No offense.”

“I’m sorry, but I take all the offense.”

“Excuse me?”

“As your assistant stated, this is a meet and greet. The purpose of this meeting was for you to tell me what you were looking for. Your list of non-negotiables, nice to haves, and dislikes. As your realtor, I would compile that information and only show you listings that meet your requirements, neighborhood, price point, amenities. You’ve signed a twelve-week contract.

Walking away now would be like throwing money into a blender. ”

My jaw tensed. Danessa knew I hated to waste money. Growing up I clipped coupons and helped my mom make food stretch until next payday. I was the kid who wore the off-brand Air Force 1s from Budget Shoes and my brother’s hand-me-downs.

“Do you want to tell me what you’re looking for?” A different realtor. “Let’s sit in the backyard and chat. Nori, feel free to continue to look around.” I followed Danessa to the backyard. She was right, it was great for entertaining.

“It’s quiet back here.”

Danessa pulled out a portfolio to take notes I could only imagine would be added to my client file. “So, you like a quiet setting.”

I hopped my shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s nice to have a place to get away from all the chatter.”

“What else are you looking for?” Her tone was even and relaxed.

“Are you seriously going to pretend like this isn’t awkward?”

“It’s not. You’re the client and I’m your realtor.”

“I’m not your client, I’m your ex.”

“And that makes you uncomfortable?”

I tensed. Did she think I was bothered? Because I’m not. I released a chuckle that was more nervous than confident. “I’m not uncomfortable, I just thought you might be because of the way things ended.”

“I ended our relationship.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure now you see what a huge mistake that was. I’m not trying to toot my own horn but … rooty tooty fresh and fruity.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying I’m a world-famous basketball player pulling in millions.”

“The word famous is doing a lot of the heavy lifting in that sentence.”

“Wow. I’m about to be the face of the Ramblers.”

“Remind me again when’s the last time you won a championship?”

Rude. She was rude. Last year wasn’t my year, the Pioneers made it to the Playoffs last year but unexpected teammate injuries stalled our advance.

Moving to the Ramblers would either be career defining or career ending.

I was taking a real risk, but I believed in my ability to turn water into wine.

“Do you treat all your clients like this?”

“Some clients are more stubborn than others.” Danessa leaned forward in her chair. “So, I’ll ask you again, what do you want?”

I wanted a time machine to alter the past. I’d return to my senior year of college and dump Danessa first, so she never had the chance to break my fucking heart.

Or better yet, I’d go back to freshman year and drop out of Econ 101, preventing me from ever meeting Danessa Irwin.

Shit, if I was being real I’d have gone back to the day she ended us and begged her to reconsider.

She wasn’t the first woman I’d loved, but being with her rewired my brain, making it difficult to move past us.

“I want a place to lay my head. With a big closet. It doesn’t have to be fancy.”

“Lying isn’t going to make this process any easier.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?”

“Because you have an opinion on everything. Since you were twelve and drafted a plan to get into the NBA. So, claiming you don’t know what you’re looking for in a property just doesn’t ring true.”

“I want a home. A place I can make my own. I don’t want a cut-and-paste house. I want to walk in and feel my presence. Aldridge lives here.”

“Character and good bones.”

“Yeah, everything in Vegas lacks charm and individualism. It’s like the homes were designed by AI.”

“Okay, I’m not going to lie, that’s a difficult ask but it’s not impossible.”

“Well, you have twelve weeks to make it happen.”

“So you’re not canceling our contract?”

“Like you said, that would be like burning money. No bueno.”

Danessa shut her portfolio. “I’ll line up some listings and schedule availability with your assistant.”

“Great.” I stood with a stretch.

“I look forward to helping you find your next home.” Standing, Danessa extended her hand.

I looked at her gesture as if it was a snake ready to strike.

Reluctantly I claimed her hand, which was dwarfed when enveloped by mine.

Danessa gave a soft squeeze to seal the deal.

Like I feared, goosebumps freckled my arm and my heart shifted into a familiar pitter-patter.

Danessa’s touch was my first addiction. Her soft skin making contact with mine put my sobriety in jeopardy.