Four Dominic
Four
Dominic
M y goal was to go to a Sedona spa for a couple weeks before coming back to Phoenix for the rest of my hiatus. Unfortunately, my mom blew up my phone on the jet so I made an immediate diversion home instead.
As usual, there are several cars I don’t recognize at her Paradise Valley five-bedroom estate. But am I really surprised? Mom likes to entertain and brag about her multimillionaire son, the tennis champion. Micah decided to go on to Sedona without me and start his vacation early. I don’t blame him. If I could afford not to come, I would have, but I’m her son.
Exiting the SUV Micah arranged, I head inside. Sure enough, there’s a full-blown party underway with music loud enough the neighbors are sure to complain. People roam about the spacious open living room, kitchen and terrace that overlooks the mountains.
A waiter walks around carrying canapés and comes toward me. “Goat cheese croquette?” he inquires.
I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
“Darling, there you are,” Mom screeches when she sees me, and several heads turn. I can see the minute most recognize me. Meanwhile, Mom is walking toward me wearing a flowy silk caftan and looking like she’s the queen of all she surveys.
Grace Fletcher doesn’t look like the mother who raised me. Her cocoa brown skin is much like my own, but her short bob has been replaced by a long, straight weave, which hits her shoulders. The extra weight she carried from having Ciera and Bliss is gone thanks to some work she had done.
She envelops me in a quick hug and stands back to admire me. “You’re getting more and more handsome each time I see you, Dominic.”
“No need for flattery. Why am I here?”
Her mouth quirks into a frown at my exasperated tone. “Is it too much to ask for you to visit your mother once in a while?”
I sigh. Of course she would make this about her, like she always does, which is why I never share my frustrations about her spending. She forgets I’ve had a brutal and exhausting two weeks winning the Australian Open and want to rest.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s your sister,” Mom replies. “Bliss is being a terror.”
I frown. “How so?” I’ve never known my fifteen-year-old baby sister to be anything other than circumspect. She’s on the track team and always gets good grades. I’m proud of her.
However, my younger sister Ciera, I worry about. Right now she’s conversing with one of Mom’s adult friends and thinks she’s grown. Ciera likes being in the spotlight and every time I look up, I find one of her posts about makeup or what she’s wearing on social media. She already has fifty thousand followers. How is it possible a seventeen-year-old has that many people interested in her lifestyle posts?
Mom pulls me away from the crowd and into the corridor so no one can hear us. “She’s downright disrespectful,” Mom replies. “She’s told me I need to stop relying on a man.”
“I agree with her.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “Not you too. Are you and Bliss in cahoots or something?”
“No, Mom, but I happen to think all of this—” I spread my arms wide “—is over-the-top.”
“Can’t I celebrate my son’s win with a party for all my friends?”
I rub my bald head. “I don’t know any of these people, and I suspect you don’t either. Why are you always posturing and vying for position? Just be who you are.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Dominic,” Mom says, gesturing wildly with her hands. “The world loves the ground you walk on. Some of us have to work at it.”
“Seriously? Are you telling me about working for something? What do you think I’ve been doing over the last fifteen years? I’ve been working my ass off so you can live a life of luxury.”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that! Not after everything I sacrificed for you to be in the position you are.”
“I’ve repaid you for everything and then some,” I snipe. I know I’m being petty and shouldn’t get into this conversation with her here, now , where anyone can see, hear or record us. But I’ve been feeling so much lately, it slips out.
Mom’s eyes well up with tears and one escapes her lids, falling down her cheeks. “Why do all my kids hate me? Have I really been that bad a mother?”
I immediately regret my words and pull her into a hug. “I don’t hate you, Mom.” I softly caress her back. She always has a way of making me feel guilty, as if I’m in the wrong.
“Yes, you do.” She sniffs. “Bliss does. Only Ciera is on my side.”
“Is everything okay over here?” a deep voice asks from behind Mom.
I glance up to see a beefy-looking guy, about six feet with salt-and-pepper hair and wearing a Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants. He’s staring back and forth between us.
Mom quickly stands upright and pulls away from me.
“We’re fine.” She wipes an errant tear from her cheek and puts a fake smile on her face. One I’ve come to recognize as her trying to impress people. “Miles, I’d like you to meet my son Dominic Fletcher. Dominic, this is Miles Crawford.”
Neither of us offers the other a hand to shake. Instead, we glare at each other.
I turn to Mom. “Where is Bliss? I’ll go have a chat with her.”
“That would be great. She’s upstairs in her room. She hates parties.”
As do I. I leave Mom and Miles and turn in the direction of the floating stairs. I take them two at a time until I reach the second floor and make my way to Bliss’s room. The five-bedroom estate has four bedrooms with en suites upstairs while the primary suite and bath are on the main floor.
I knock when I reach Bliss’s door. It swings open with such force, I take a step back, but when Bliss sees it’s me, she flings herself into my arms. “Dominic!”
I hold her tightly. “Hey, baby girl.”
“I’m so happy you’re here,” she says when she finally releases me and looks up at me with ebony eyes that match my own. “I can’t stand those insufferable people downstairs. All they do is prance around in overpriced clothes and try to one-up each other.”
At five foot six, Bliss has what they call a brickhouse physique thanks to her running track. Her beautiful honey-blond braids are in an elaborate style I see on other young girls and she’s wearing small dangling gold earrings and a tracksuit.
“Well, you look beautiful.”
She smiles broadly and then flops onto her oversize bed. “You’re saying that because you’re my older brother.”
“No, I’m saying it because it’s true,” I reply, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. “So, tell me, what’s going on with you and Mom?”
Bliss rolls her eyes. “Same as always. She’s got another sorry asshole.” She catches herself and apologizes. “Sorry, Dom. You’re not here all the time to see the men she brings around. Why can’t Mom see she deserves better?”
I shrug. “I wish I knew. I suspect Mom has self-esteem issues. She’s always looking for love in the wrong places. I don’t want that to happen to you, Bliss. Or to Ciera. I don’t want you to feel like you need a man to validate you. I want you to love yourself.”
“I do,” Bliss states emphatically. “I don’t want to be anything like her. I’m determined to stand on my own two feet and use my brain—” she points to her head “—instead of my looks to get ahead because those will fade.”
I nod in agreement. “I’m glad to hear it, Bliss. If you ever need reinforcement, your big brother will always give it to you. You’re a beautiful Black queen.”
“Awww, Dom, who knew you were such a softy.” She gives me a playful nudge with her shoulder. “Why are you still alone? You will make someone a good husband.”
My mind drifts to the one woman I ever considered having a future with. Five foot nine, hooded dark brown eyes, long toned legs and a tight ass. I move from where I’m perched on Bliss’s bed and walk over to her bedroom window. When I look out, there are still people flowing in and out of the house.
“I’m not interested in getting married, Bliss,” I finally respond to her earlier comment.
“Why not?”
Spinning around, I face her. “In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t retired. I’m still out there winning championships, keeping bread on the table.”
“Ha.” Bliss stands up and folds her arms across her chest. “C’mon, Dom, I’m not stupid. You could quit tennis at any time. You’re rich. You continue to play because you love it. Admit it. You love the thrill of winning .”
How can my fifteen-year-old sister be so wise? Maybe she’s too smart for her own good. I change the subject. “I didn’t come up here to talk about me. I came to discuss that despite you disagreeing with how our mother chooses to live her life, you still need to show her respect. You can’t be talking back.”
“Respect is earned,” Bliss replies hotly.
This girl won’t let up. “Bliss…” My tone is a warning and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine. I’ll do my best,” Bliss responds. “Why can’t I come live with you?”
“You know why.” I sigh. “We discussed this. I’m always on the road. I can’t give you a stable home.”
“Whatever. How long are you staying this time?”
“I’ll be at a spa in Sedona for a few weeks, but I’ll be back for the rest of my hiatus.”
“Thanks, Dom.”
I walk toward her and pull her into my arms. “You don’t have to thank me. I love you. I’m your big brother and I’ll always be here for you.”
Afterward, I make my way downstairs. I’m heading toward Ciera to say hello when the man Mom introduced me to earlier steps in my path.
“Can I help you?” I inquire.
“Yeah, you can stop upsetting your mama,” Miles replies.
Is this motherfucker seriously going to tell me about my own mother? “I suggest you stay in your lane, my friend. You might be sleeping with my mom, but I’m her son and the one who pays for this lifestyle you’re enjoying. Best not to bite the hand that feeds you.”
I push past him and head to the front door, where my driver waits for me. “Mr. Fletcher.” He opens the passenger door and I climb inside.
I’ll have to check on Ciera later. I can’t stay in this environment where I might blow a fuse. I have to get my head right; the French Open is in a few months and it’s going to take everything I have to win it.
Last year, I was beset by an injury and barely managed to eke out the win at Wimbledon and keep my ranking as number one. The Australian Open was even tougher. It’s why I’ve been thinking about what happens after tennis. I’m not getting any younger. But for now, I’ll close my eyes and allow my mind to rest, but when I do, visions of the past and a brown-eyed beauty cloud my mind.
Bliss mentioning marriage and a family makes me remember the dreams Teagan and I shared. Why have I never been able to move past her? What will it take for me to finally make peace?
See her again , an inner voice whispers.