Game Change

Chapter 1

Brynne

I slap a hand on my head to keep my big, floppy hat from flying off. Memories of a cold, snowy Boston winter feel like lightyears away, even though it's only been two days since we escaped to this island oasis. The clear blue sea roars a few feet from me, and I sigh in contentment.

This escape is exactly what I need after another lonely Christmas. Yes, I spent it with the family of one of my best friends, but not having a close-knit family of my own always hits hard around the holidays.

It's three days into the New Year, and I can put those dark months behind me until the next holiday season comes back around. For the next few days, I’ll focus on the crystal blue of the ocean, the warm breeze, and the comfort of knowing I'm thousands of miles away from a cold northeastern winter. Being here with Raven and Amira, the two women that I am closest to in the world, is a bonus.

I grew up in the same neighborhood as Raven, and we’ve been friends since elementary school. Amira is six years younger than us, but she came into our lives five years ago. It’s been three years since we took our first girls' vacation together. Raven was having a hard time in her marriage. Amira was fighting with her mother and sister, and I needed to get away and start the New Year fresh. So, for the past three years, we have spent the first week of the New Year at a tropical location to recover from the holiday madness.

I remove my hat, lie flat on the lounge chair by the pool, and stare at the clear, blue sky. A bird flies high overhead, and I marvel at how free it is. This bird doesn't have to worry about returning to an empty home and bed. It never feels alone or abandoned, and I bet it never has to worry about another bird taking something from him.

Other than the lonely home and bed, I no longer worry about the other things. In my pain, I also remember my wins and successes. Like the career that I've fought for. The pride I feel about being one of the very few Black female architects in the United States. We make up less than one-half of one percent, but it’s always been my dream, and after some bumps during my college years, I found a mentor who took me under his wing.

The internship led to a full-time job. Milton Kincaid went from gruff mentor to boss, friend, and finally, father figure. He's taught me everything about business that's not taught in school. I'm a first-time homeowner of a condo I managed to buy on my own. That's a dream I've had since I was thrown out of the only home I've ever known when I was nineteen. Now, at thirty-two, I've ensured that no one can ever take anything away from me again. I can pay for a mortgage, expensive vacations, and bottomless mimosa brunches. Everything I need and most of what I want.

The door to our townhouse opens, and I hear footsteps. I know who they are even with my eyes closed. I also know what's coming next.

"Incoming!" I hear a big splash before water hits my feet and legs. I sit up just in time to see Amira come to the surface. She swims to the pool's edge and wipes the water off her face. "You won't believe this shit," she says.

“Is it your mother or sister?" It's always one of them. Her father is the most normal person in the family, and since he's divorced her mother, Amira is often caught in the middle.

"Well, they're a package deal. I got a guilt trip for taking a vacation while my sister is going through such a rough time."

"When is Ashley not going through a rough time?" I ask. Amira's sister's life is in a persistent state of drama, and her family is constantly trying to suck her in. I wonder how or why she puts up with it.

"Right!" Amira says. "Like it's my job to help her with her kid. That's her husband's job, not mine. I help only at my convenience now." We give each other an air high-five.

It took Raven and me years to convince Amira that her sister's problems were not her own. It didn't help that Ashley seems to be the favored child or the child that gets more because she's in a constant state of chaos. Chaos of her own making.

"It worked in my favor when she gave me an ultimatum and stopped speaking to me," Amira says as she shakes her head. "That lasted all of two weeks because she needed me."

"And your mom tried to get you to apologize," I remind her.

"Yeah, but—" She stops speaking when the sliding door opens, and Raven runs out and dives head-first into the pool. Water splashes me in the face, and I wipe it away. She surfaces and splashes Amira.

“No talking about our problems," Raven says. “This year, we are celebrating and leaving toxicity behind. At least until we get back. Brynne, we're celebrating your promotion because you're a badass architect.”

“The promotion isn’t official yet,” I remind my friend. She ignores me and continues.

“Amira, we're celebrating you setting boundaries and finally learning not to take on other people's problems. And we're celebrating my divorce because only I could be married to a gay man for four years and not realize it."

I catch Amira's eye and wait for Raven to burst into tears, but she doesn't. She straightens up and looks ahead. She's wrong about one thing. No one saw it. No one could have guessed that Gill was gay. He is the typical masculine man who loves sports and cars. He grew up in a religious home, and months after his father passed away from a sudden heart attack, he came out to his entire family at Easter dinner. He didn't give Raven any notice. He announced it and asked her for a divorce in front of everyone.

She called me in hysterics, and it took fifteen minutes for her to calm down enough to tell me what had happened. I got in my car, picked her up, and brought her to my condo, where she stayed for the next month.

“Amen," I say. “Let's forget about all that crap until we get back.” I stand, toss my hat, and jump in the pool with my friends.

I do a few laps before I get on a floating lounger and float. This is our routine while on vacation. We have breakfast, swim in the pool, and do an activity. While out, we have lunch, and when we return, we relax until dinner. Some nights we'll go out and enjoy the nightlife. On other nights, we'll sit by the pool and talk.

"Hey!" Amira yells. "I was thinking tonight we could—" She continues to speak, but I can't hear another word as the obnoxious sound of a helicopter roars overhead. It's not uncommon to hear helicopters here. This resort has a helipad, and affluent guests will arrive by helicopter.

Amira stops and rolls her eyes as the sound gets louder and louder.

“This is why I don’t want to come back to this place next year!” Raven yells. “Too much damn noise.” As the sound of the chopper gets closer, I stand and walk to the gate of our townhouse to watch it land.

The hot sun beats down on me, so I put my hat back on my head to get a reprieve from the heat. This side of the resort is all townhomes, each with a private pool. Our unit is the last, and right next to us is a bigger house with a pool twice the size of ours. The back of that house is all windows, but it’s been empty since we arrived.

I stand there and watch as the helicopter slowly descends to the ground. The helipad is on the property of the big house, and I hold onto my hat when the wind picks up from the helicopter's blades. Raven and Amira join me, and we stand there in silence. It takes several minutes for the chopper to land. The engine gets turned off, and the noise dwindles.

Moments later, the doors open, and a group of guys jump out one by one and run through the well-landscaped lawn to the big house door. They’re not young college guys; they must be in their thirties and appear to be in good shape. I can’t see their faces from here, but one pulls his shirt over his head, tosses it to the ground, and continues to run.

“There’s a guy who looks like he needs a vacation,” Amira says.

I nod in agreement but don’t take my eyes off his taut, well-muscled back. He has no tattoos, but his waist is narrow, and his skin looks tan. I look away from him and assess the rest of the crew. There’s one that catches my eye. He’s the only black man with them, and he’s not running. He’s walking. He has a full beard, but it’s well-maintained. He’s tall and lean and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

“He’s mine,” Amira says.

I look at Raven, and we both smirk. This man is tall and imposing. Amira will run like a scared kitten if he looks her way.

I count four of them in total. Just as I’m about to go in to get ready for the day, the sliding door next door opens, and the shirtless guy runs out. I notice his pair of orange Crocs and make a face. Whoever this is has questionable taste in shoes, but when I see his front side, I notice it’s even better than the back. He’s not bulky, but he’s in great shape. He tosses his Crocs aside, pulls his wallet out of his pocket, and throws it on a nearby table before diving into the pool. Two of the other guys do the same.

The one Amira claimed comes out last and shakes his head when he sees them in the pool. He looks around, notices us, and waves before he pulls his sunglasses off. Amira gasps and puts a hand on her chest.

The shirtless man surfaces and pulls himself out of the pool. The weight of the water pushes his shorts down, and I see the apex of his ass just as a gust of wind hits, and my hat flies off my head. It floats over the gate onto the property next door and hits the man in his bare back. He turns, picks it up, and puts it on his head. One of the other guys says something to him and points at us. That’s when he looks up, and my eyes lock with his. Even from here, I can see how blue they are. He smiles, and my world tilts so much that I hold onto the gate for support.

I can see Amira and Raven waving from the corner of my eye, but I can’t seem to make myself move. The handsome man waves and grins wider. He has perfectly straight teeth and a short, well-trimmed beard.

“You ladies want to join us for a swim?” he yells, gesturing for us to come over.

I put a hand to my throat and swallow.

“If I get near that big, sexy one, I’ll faint,” Amira whispers. And she’s probably not exaggerating. I’ve never met a more tongue-tied individual in my life. She grabs my arm and squeezes it.

“If you want your hat back, you’ll have to come and get it.” He takes it off his head, waves it in the air, and puts it back on.