Chapter 1 #2
Reagan holds up her hands. “Ladies, enough. Everyone is getting a fresh start.” She stares at me.
“Some are on shorter leashes than others, but everyone has a chance to start anew. I’m asking you all to come into this with an open mind.
” She pauses briefly as she steeples her fingers.
“I have two sisters, one older and one younger. Between them, my mother, and my aunt, I’ve been surrounded by strong women my whole life.
Having a girl tribe you can count on makes each individual stronger.
You all have two options. Go at it alone or become a tribe.
I personally suggest you spend some time together.
Try becoming friends. After I introduce Sulley, I’m going to leave, but my tab will remain open.
Order drinks. Hang out. Talk. Throw out all preconceived notions and simply get to know each other. ”
Before she can continue, Queen Sullivan O’Shea walks into the room. I expected a cocky demeanor, but she looks like a deer in headlights. She’s outwardly nervous and dressed like she hit up the clearance rack at Walmart.
She waves a shaky hand and mutters, “Hel…hello everyone,” as she cautiously takes in the various faces in the room.
Reagan introduces the group to her. Sulley appears wide-eyed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was starstruck by the group in here.
After Reagan runs through a few things, she leaves, again encouraging us all to stay and enjoy food and drinks on her.
I turn to Sulley. “Well, Queen Sullivan O’Shea. We were all dragged here kicking and screaming to roll out the red carpet for you. I imagine we’ll be doing that all season. How lucky for us. What is it that the queen would like to talk about?”
Sulley physically deflates at my snarkiness. I thought she’d have a stronger constitution.
We make idle chitchat for a bit. Sulley keeps telling me over and over that her friends call her Sulley, so I call her Sullivan for the rest of the night just to piss her off and let her know we’re not friends and never will be.
The next day I’m home, reluctantly packing up my apartment, when my doorbell and phone ring simultaneously.
I glance at my phone. It’s my mother. She and my father have been blowing up my phone since the news of me coming to Philly broke.
Fuck me, they’re going to be all up in my business now that I’ll be living in the same town as them.
I don’t have the energy to deal with them.
I’m still managing my emotions over this move.
I walk over to my door and open it to see Reagan standing there in a different designer power suit. I’d love to see her closet one day. It’s probably like a scene out of a movie with rows and rows of high-end clothes. It probably rotates on a smart wheel as she decides what to wear each morning.
She looks pissed, and without waiting to be invited inside, she stomps past me. “Please come in,” I say sarcastically while I close the door and follow her as she marches into my living room with clear intent.
With a tight jaw, she points to my sofa and commands, “Sit. Now.”
I give her an exaggerated fake smile. “Thank you for inviting me to sit down in my own home. Do you want to make me a pot of coffee while you’re at it? Maybe an espresso? Easy on the foam, please.”
She exhales a frustrated breath as we both sit across from one another like adversaries. “Kennedy, are you aware of your reputation in the league?”
“For being a badass, amazingly talented player? Yep.”
She shakes her head. “No. There’s no denying your talent.
It’s there. It’s your attitude that’s a big fucking problem.
Did you know that Prescott Wellington shopped you to every team in the league?
Every. Single. Team. He knows you have family issues and didn’t want to end up in Philly.
He cared enough about you to try to find you another home and was practically giving you away to other teams for nothing, yet no one took him up on it.
It’s not about your talent, it’s about you. ”
I shrug, acting unaffected even though hearing that cuts deep. “What do you want from me? If I were a man, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. I’d be praised for having confident charisma. But because I’m a woman, I’m a bitch? A problem? Fuck everyone and their double standards.”
She surprises me by nodding and saying, “Frankly, I agree with that statement, but the fact remains you’re not a man.
For better or worse, we play by a different set of rules, and that giant chip on your shoulder does nothing for you.
I’m the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. You don’t think I have to deal with sexist shit like this too?
Double standards are the regular course of business for me.
I eat them for breakfast every morning…in my mansion…
that I paid for. All before I get into my two-hundred-thousand-dollar car…
that I also paid for. And then I make my way to the biggest skyscraper in Philly…
that I own. To the top floor…because that’s where my corner office is.
The office of the CEO of one of the biggest, most successful companies in the world… that I run.”
I roll my eyes at her dramatics. “Congratulations. Good. For. You, Madam CEO. What do you want from me?”
She leans back on the sofa. “I’m a very good judge of character.
You don’t get to be in my position without learning how to read people.
I think there’s a smart woman behind all your abrasiveness.
I think there’s a way to channel your tough-girl exterior into something that works for you, not against you.
If I were you, instead of feeding into certain dialogue, I’d flip the script.
It’s not too late for you to change the way people view you. ”
I exhale an audible breath. “Again, what is it that you want from me? Spit it out in English.”
She sits upright. “First, I want you to cut your shit with me. I see through it. This bravado you’ve got going for you is likely masking some other crap in your life. I’m guessing it has to do with your family.”
I ball my fists until my nails cut into my palms. “Screw you. I don’t owe you an explanation of my family dynamics.”
She nods. “Agreed. But I’m the only one giving you what’s likely your last shot at making a true name for yourself in this league.
If I waive you, no one will pick you up.
That’s a guarantee. You should learn to play nicely in the sandbox with me.
If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll realize you still control the dialogue.
You still control your future. You’re in a unique situation right now.
Like it or not, Sulley O’Shea is a phenomenon.
She’s unlike anything this league has ever experienced before, bringing in millions of new fans every damn day.
Our games are already sold out for the season.
Not just our home games. Our away games too.
Every single one is sold out because people want to see her play.
And it happened in less than twenty-four hours since we drafted her yesterday. ”
I can’t mask my shock. I don’t think I’ve ever played a professional game in a stadium that’s been more than half full. Sold out? Every game? I have no words for that.
She gives me a knowing smile. “Yep. Unreal. Like I said, she’s a phenom.
A superstar never seen before in women’s sports.
But she’s wet behind the ears, Kennedy. Innocent through and through.
Sulley is a good kid. She’s very unaffected and unaware.
Instead of working against her, work with her.
Be her friend. She could use a guide in this new, scary world.
She’s originally from a small town. She went to a college five minutes from that town and has never lived in a big city.
You saw how she was dressed last night. Maybe start there.
Help her find some new, more appropriate cosmopolitan clothing.
She’s going to be photographed. I want her to look good, and if I were you, I’d want to be the person photographed next to her.
Star power tends to rub off on those close by. ”
I cross my arms. “I’m not a fashion consultant; I’m a basketball player.”
She runs her finger over her bottom lip.
“No, you’re not a fashion consultant, but you have real style.
You’re always dressed well and made up perfectly.
You put time and thought into your appearance.
It matters to you. You’re a beautiful, smart, talented woman.
There’s so much untapped potential with you.
If I were you, I’d embrace what Sulley can do for you and your career.
” She reaches into her purse and fishes around for a moment before emerging with a black American Express credit card.
Handing it to me, she says, “After you move to Philly, call her and take her shopping. Take Palmer and a few other teammates too. The two of them are living together. They could both use your sense of style, and it will be an olive branch. A way for you all to bond.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re giving me uninhibited use of your Black Card?” I know black American Express cards are invitation-only and given to very few people in the world. It’s a billionaires’ club with no spending limits.
She stands and runs her hands down her suit before holding up a single finger. “One day. You can use it for one day as long as you’re with Sulley and Palmer.”
I smile as I rub my hands together. “Ooh, this is going to put a dent in that big bank account of yours.”
She returns my smile with a genuine one of her own. “Do your worst, Kennedy Jeffries.”
Game on, Reagan Daulton. Game on.