Chapter 4 Chanel #2
Ashton was a gorgeous man; some might even describe him as beautiful.
His mixed parentage of his African-American mom and Italian father gave the man good genes.
He was six-four and muscular all over with broad shoulders, a massive chest and arms, and slim hips.
He was bowlegged and sexy as hell, and the man knew it, but he was humble.
Ashton’s blemish-free cappuccino skin was enhanced by the most beautiful, tilted jade-green eyes and a broad, Nubian nose.
A shiny, thick black beard, mustache, and soul patch surrounded full pouty lips.
His thick, curly hair that was shaved on the sides was usually braided on the court but sometimes worn in a ponytail in off-season. He kept a clean lineup all the time.
Thinking about how handsome and fine he was, paired with his amazing personality, made me wonder why a woman would cheat on a man like Ashton. There had to be a reason his wife turned from a faithful, loyal woman to an around the way ho.
“Chanel, what storm?” he repeated, forcing my attention back on him and off his beautiful features.
“Your divorce. I know how messy and ugly they can be, and it will be even more so for you because you’re in the spotlight.”
“That’s not the first time that you’ve said something like that.”
“I know. But I can help.”
“How in the hell could you possibly help? You’d make shit worse, Chanel.”
I reached inside of my purse, and although he had my business number, I wanted him to be able to reach me at any time. It wasn’t just the attraction that I was starting to feel for him. I was compelled to help him, since I was the one who got him into this mess.
“Here, take my card. I know that the last place you want to be is standing here in this damn jail lobby. You’re probably ready to get home and take a shower, call your lawyer, and all that good stuff.”
Shaking his head, he replied, “They didn’t charge me.”
“You must have pulled some long-reaching strings.”
“Or the nigga that was the cause of this bullshit knew it would be fucked up to press charges after the shit he’d done.”
I could feel the aggression rolling off him. That was the last thing that I wanted, for him to be released only to get in trouble again.
“Listen, would you please meet me tomorrow evening for dinner at Blossom? Are you familiar with the Meridian Hotel?” I asked, referring to an upscale hotel with an exclusive restaurant.
“Very familiar.”
“Okay, how about you meet me there tomorrow evening around seven for drinks? I can discuss my plan with you at that time.”
“I don’t know. That might not be a good idea.”
“I was thinking that it would give me a chance to lay out my plan for you. I have some things I need to check into first, so I don’t want to jump the gun, but I’m pretty sure that I can help you get out of all this, looking clean.
At least just come out and hear what I have to say.
If you like it, fine, we can work together.
If not, you can walk away with no strings. No harm, no foul.”
Ashton’s eyes slowly raked over me, and I felt like he was undressing me, but in the most polite of ways if that was possible. My body heated up at his intense gaze, and though it wasn’t my business, I couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since he’d last had sex.
I shook my head. I needed to force those thoughts from my mind.
“Why are you trying to help me?”
“I was the one who gave you that information. If shit goes sideways for you, it will forever haunt me.”
“Sure, I’ll meet you.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven—and Ashton?”
“Yeah?”
“If something comes up, give me a call and let me know you can’t make it. Don’t have me sitting there looking lonely and desperate like a girl just got stood up.”
“Do I look like the type to pull some shit like that?”
“You just never know what might shake out.”
“Yeah, gotcha.”
He turned to walk away from me, and I remained in the spot that I was in.
“Fine ass on that one, don’t you agree?” Thomasina asked, stepping up beside me.
I jumped. I wasn’t sure where she had disappeared to during my conversation with Ashton, and I wasn’t sure when she had returned.
“Girl, you startled me, and no, I wasn’t looking at that man’s ass.”
“Yeah, okay. Try telling that to someone who doesn’t know you.”
I bit my bottom lip to try to prevent my smile, but I failed miserably. At the same time, Ashton looked back over his shoulder at me.
“Busted,” Thomasina stated in a singsong voice.
“Girl, whatever. I have to go.”
“You and me both. My shift has been over, and I’m ready to head home.”
We hugged and said our “I love yous,” before we parted ways.
I walked outside and to my surprise, Ashton stood close to my car with his coach.
They were having an intense conversation and didn’t see me approach.
I dropped down into my car as the older man helped Ashton remove his motorcycle from his coach’s truck.
I didn’t start my car up all the way up, but I did let the windows down. I had no business doing so, but the reporter in me couldn’t help but eavesdrop, always looking for information wherever I could find it.
“. . . stupid shit. I don’t give a damn.”
“Coach, I get it. I swear nothing like this will ever happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t, not on my watch.
Your ass is lucky he called me right away.
Because before you called, I was able to talk reason into him about pressing charges, and make some calls to clear some shit up.
Alex was going with the story that he didn’t know why you assaulted him, other than that you’re jealous of him and his playing time. ”
“That’s bullshit, Coach!”
“I know that, but do you really wanna tell the media the real reason you did?”
Ashton placed his hands on his hips and stared at the ground. “No, sir.”
“Listen, you have had a stellar career with an impeccable reputation and no scandal associated with your name. I know some things have happened, but that shit’s in the past and buried.
I’m talking about right now. Right now, you look good on paper, and that’s the way that we want to keep it, and that’s the same note that you should end your career on. ”
“It might be easier if the team wasn’t fucking my wife. We’re supposed to be family, Coach.”
“I’ve got something to say about all that. Don’t take it personal.”
“I’m listening, Coach. You’ve never steered me wrong.”
“I know it hurts, son. But if you want to end your career on a stellar note, you’ve gotta say ‘fuck you’ to Muffin, too, same as you did with Alex.
If you’re already divorcing her, don’t let her fucking around cause you to tarnish your career and reputation.
You’re already leaving her, so might as well say fuck you and keep on the path you’re on. ’”
The coach patted Ashton’s shoulder before he hopped into his truck. I kept my head down with my gaze on my phone and remained still, praying that neither of them saw me. Within minutes, Coach Jesse Pierson had pulled off, and Ashton was rolling right behind him on his motorcycle.