Episode 9
Episode 9
Coincidence or Fate
MEMPHIS
I tossed and turned all night, thoughts of Naomi keeping me awake.
Her gorgeous smile.
The way her eyes sparkled like black diamonds when she laughed.
How she constantly crossed and recrossed her long-as-hell beautiful legs.
Our kiss.
That kiss had been one for the memory books. I replayed it so many times I eventually had to take matters into my own hand and tug one out. It’s the only reason I even caught a solid hour of sleep.
I had no business carrying on with a woman like that when I was about to put myself up for auction to the highest bidder. And yet I couldn’t find it within me to feel too broken up about it. I couldn’t believe I’d kissed her like that. What a player move.
I’d had the best date of my life. If one could call it that. I guess a better term would be the best non-date I’d ever had.
Damn, Naomi was everything, absolutely everything I’d ever wanted in a woman romantically. She was funny. Cool as a cucumber when she needed to be. Smokin’ hot. A body that could make a grown ass man beg on his knees to worship. And smart. So fucking smart. She had a quick wit that I couldn’t match but loved verbally sparring with all the same.
If the circumstances had been different, I’d be calling her the second I opened my eyes. Not letting the grass grow under my feet, as my granny would put it. Not that I’d gotten her number. I’d known better. If she’d given me the ability to reach her, I might have taken her up on it. Cancelled all that I’d committed to and ruined everything I’d been working toward. And for what? The hint of a possibility at a romantic future together? It wasn’t enough.
I needed a big payday. My family needed it even more. Much of my family’s future success depended on my ability to help offset college fees. Sure, my little sister had applied for scholarships and had secured a few thousand here and there. But I wanted the best possible start for her. My mother and father had worked themselves to the bone to give us kids a good chance at a strong, prosperous future but it was nowhere near enough monetarily.
Now, I myself had never been a 4.0 type of student. But what I’d lacked in grades I made up for through skill and talent on the field. All that crashed and burned when I got hurt. Technically I only had a few more college credits to get in order to be a college graduate, and could start as low man on the roster in some corporate office that I’d hate, but it wouldn’t make me happy. It wouldn’t pay the tuition for Paris who’d been accepted into Harvard of all fuckin’ places.
And boy, was I proud of her for making that dream come true. My sister had set her sights on Harvard before she’d even graduated the eighth grade. She’d been committed to the idea of going to that particular school and no other would do. She was even willing to go into hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of school debt in order to live that dream. My parents were talking about taking a second mortgage on their small home to help.
Me and Sydney and Paris had had a meeting about that suggestion and immediately tossed the idea right out the window. Between the twenty thousand Paris had been able to get in scholarship monies from different organizations and the ten thousand she was able to get in government grants, she was still about twenty-five thousand shy of the fifty-three thousand per year tuition. And that did not include monthly living expenses, books, food, incidentals, and more. Sydney was going to pony up a couple thousand a month for rent, food, and a bus pass, but Paris was still going to have to get a job. Even then she’d still be looking at going into tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of debt per year. And that was just for undergrad. My baby sis wanted to be an attorney.
Odessa, my twenty-year-old sister, was currently up to her eyeballs in debt from nursing school and worked a million hours a week as a Certified Nursing Assistant while continuing school and living at home. It was ridiculous.
The system we had in America was jacked. If you wanted to make something of yourself, you had to go into decades’ worth of debt to achieve it. How did that make any sense?
My plan had been to go pro. Pay for all my siblings’ school needs so they could be something without the weight of debt hanging around their necks. And it was within my reach, too. Or it had been. Now I was putting up my body for sale in a different way, but with the same hopes for a high payout.
Three million would be put to great use, that was for sure. I could pay Paris’s and Odessa’s school tuition and room and board. Pay off the remainder of my parents’ house. Sock away a good chunk for their retirement. And set up a couple high-earning college plans for Holland and Cheyenne who were still in high school. The rest I’d invest in myself. Figure out what the hell I wanted to do as an ex-baller whose only talent lay on the field.
Football was all I knew.
Hell, maybe being a kept man living under a rich-as-fuck wife’s thumb could teach me a few things about the business world. Lord knows I had zero experience in the corporate sector. Either way, first step was to secure myself a wife.
Groaning, I pulled myself to a seated position on the bed, sloughing off the covers with a deep sigh I felt to my core. Thoughts of what Naomi might be feeling this morning invaded my subconscious.
I shook my head and rubbed at my tight-cropped hair, scratching my dome. “Memphis, you have no business thinking about Naomi. Nothing good will come of it,” I reminded myself as I stood and stretched my arms above my head.
First things first: coffee. Then I’d hit the shower.
With more effort than should have been needed, I pushed all thoughts of last night and the most captivating woman I’d ever met to the farthest reaches of my mind, intent on focusing all my energy on what was happening today.
Today was Day 1 of the auction process.
I’d been through this part once before. Madam Alana would have each candidate review the contract for the final time, sign across the dotted line, and then be taken to the Candidates’ Room where I’d meet the others.
A pang of sadness prodded at my chest. The last time I was in that position I’d made friends. Lifelong friends. Faith, Ruby, Savannah, even ball-bustin’ Dakota, though she’d never admit it. I still had Jade, which helped. Though she wasn’t putting herself in the auction, instead learning the art of the auction as Alana’s protégé, I still would miss her company on the other side. Then again, maybe I wouldn’t be the only man in the bunch this time. That could be cool.
“Yeah, Memphis, focus on the positive,” I spoke out loud to my empty hotel room as I made my way to the shower.
I scrubbed every inch of my skin, allowing the heat and steam of the hot water to work the tension out of my shoulders. When I was done, I exited a new man.
Brilliant what a hot shower could do for the psyche.
I stared at my large frame in the mirror’s reflection. I was built. Took impeccable care of myself even after the injury. I’d treat whoever chose me like a true queen. Ever since I was a little boy I wanted to be married and have a big-ass family just like my own. I worshipped the very ground my father walked on. A vet and later a man who drove giant semi-trucks, ensuring people got the food or products they needed to have a good life. At least that was how he put it. He even took me on the road with him once. It was hard, often boring work. Sitting behind the wheel for hours on end, trying to occupy your own mind. But my father never complained. Not a single day in his life. He thought if he was making a living that provided for his family, he was doing what he was supposed to. And it would have set him up for life had he not gotten in that accident. His semi jackknifing across the interstate and plowing into concrete girders during a freak snow storm the likes the South hadn’t seen in decades.
He lost all he’d worked for in that accident. His ability to walk normally. To drive a truck again. His full pension, because he was just shy of hitting the vested limit when the accident happened. Almost lost his life too. Sometimes I see that look in his eye where the darkness comes in, rearing its ugly head and whispering nasty things into his ear. Things like his family would have been better off if he’d died because we’d have gotten a life insurance policy.
I heard him say those words to my mother in the kitchen late one night when I was supposed to be in bed. It was only the one time and the words had ripped me to shreds. Did the same to my momma too because she smacked his ass silly. Right in the face. Pointed that finger at him and made him swear he would never leave her on purpose. Reminded him that they’d taken vows to be with one another through sickness and in health and by Lord he was not going to take the easy way out. Then she broke into tears and apologized for losing her mind and laying a hand on him. He just shook his head and did something I didn’t think he was capable of. I watched my father drop his head, wrap his arms around my mother, and cry into her chest, just like we did when we were hurt or needed our momma’s love.
My father wasn’t a crier. He could get a wet eye now and again, such as when he held one of my sisters when they’d been born, but on average, he was the very foundation our family counted on to keep us strong. He was the Jiminy Cricket encouraging us to do good, dream big, and be our best selves.
I admired the man more than anyone on this Earth. And I hoped in doing what I was about to do, that he’d eventually be proud. If I could help my family monetarily, pave the way for my sisters’ successes, I too would feel worthy of his respect and praise.
When I lost the chance to go pro, I became adrift in an open sea of endless options. None of which I could grasp for myself. I didn’t know what I wanted to do as a job. Wasn’t even sure what I would be best qualified for. I was a twenty-four-year-old man who’d played football all his life, who was close to having a college degree in political science, and yet no prospects whatsoever for work. All I knew was that I needed to do something.
My family was counting on me.
I would not let them down a second time.
“I will be chosen tonight,” I promised my reflection. “Whatever it takes, Memphis. You got this. Put it all out on the playing field and score that goal, get the golden trophy.”
Or in this case, I was the trophy , and my ultimate prize would be at least three million dollars and a rich wife.
I got dressed in a dark-navy suit with a crisp white button-down shirt that I thought complemented my features well. Naomi sure hadn’t been able to keep her hands to herself.
Memories of her wrapping her pretty hands around my thigh trying to compare our quads was something I wouldn’t forget any time soon.
Once I was finished getting ready, I tucked my wallet into my pocket along with my room key and headed to the bank of elevators at the end of the hall. I hit the button and waited for it to open.
I lost my breath, my entire body going solid once the double doors opened to the one person I wanted to see more than anyone, but also didn’t want to see because of what I was about to do.
Naomi Shaw.
She looked up, her sexy mouth dropping open as those mesmerizing eyes sparkled.
“Well, I’ll be damned. What a coincidence.” She grinned coyly. Her body was wrapped in another body-hugging, absolutely stunning dress. This one a pristine white that offset her fawn-colored skin magically.
“Naw, I don’t believe in coincidences.” I stepped into the car, bringing my body closer to hers.
“No?” She swallowed visibly, taking a step back.
I shook my head and took another step forward, caging her against the back wall. I shouldn’t have but I wasn’t entirely in my right mind, my instincts raging with the desire to get closer. She pressed her small hands to my chest, the same way she had last night before she’d wrapped them around my neck—only this time it was to keep me at a distance.
“No, pretty lady, I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in fate. And that bitch has the worst timing ever.”