Chapter 8
C ARRAH STRETCHED HER eyes to the other side of the field and saw all the guys in a jocular mood, including Chris. His disposition clearly seemed to have improved from when she’d run into him earlier, and she was grateful because her intuition had already told her he would be present. After all, every friend they shared stood somewhere on the grassy plain. This would be one of those rare occasions where they silently agreed to coexist from a distance for their friends.
She wondered if Chris was thinking the same. Either way, the thought made her ponder Ava’s criticisms. Especially as she studied the guys and noted his younger brother, Carter, was also present. She had helped Carter several times in preparation for the Debutante Ball, and had never once felt the urge to avoid him in spite of the differences between their families.
“We’re two girls short,” Reese huffed as she came to Carrah’s side.
Carrah shifted her line of sight. She scanned the other recreational areas, but didn’t see anyone they could ask. “Chloe and Summer were at the tennis courts when Ava and I were there earlier.”
“They’re still there. Gav doesn’t want Summer to join and I assumed that two of the Chennault crew may be more than enough for you.”
“Gav doesn’t dictate who plays on our team.” Carrah glared over at Gavin slapping fives with Reggie, the youngest of the Caldwell bunch, and Lockhart, scion of the oldest Black-owned newspaper in the Southeast. They were friends who Carrah had played with forever, but they always preferred the boys’ team for these competitive games. “What did Summer do to him?”
Reese shrugged. “I think Gav thinks she wants him. But homegirl is after Chris.” Reese hit Carrah with the girl let me tell ya look. “Has been ever since our debut.”
A pulling sensation sat at the bottom of Carrah’s stomach. She spotted Chris on the other side doing high knees then whipped her attention back to Reese. Summer Bradshaw was pretty, but only cared about landing a rich husband. A Southern socialite in her own right after abandoning her professional career to be a permanent fixture at every gala and fundraiser. Essentially any event that allowed her to orbit money daddies while riding on the coattails of her family’s society status. Summer wanted to be the epitome of the old guard Black elite, and some rich boy’s trophy wife.
No wonder she had her sights set on the oldest of the Chennault siblings. Christopher was a prime candidate. Aside from his successful firm, his family had been millionaires since before Jim Crow. The Chennault family’s generational wealth was as iconic as Madam C. J. Walker’s. It had been the subject of case studies, and always made Chris, Chloe, and Carter well-desired plus-ones.
However, it was none of her business who liked Chris. And yet she found herself comparing the woman from his office to Summer and then to herself. Model chick and the socialite were tall whereas Carrah was short. Heather was a mocha beauty with short hair. Summer could’ve passed for white with her mid-length brown hair while Carrah embodied the shades between at a solid caramel color with jet-black hair that fell down her back. All different.
Why Carrah’s mind began contemplating complex scenarios was beyond her. She shook her head from its trance.
“That long?” Carrah finally asked. “But Cameron escorted her for debut and Gav for the Links ball.”
“Cam and Gav were her parents’ choices after Ms. Claudette said no. The woman had high standards when it came to Chris. No girl was ever good enough. Maybe Summer thinks there’s a chance now that his mom is gone. She’s been stalking him on social like a hussy needing new panties.” They both fell into a fit of laughter. “If you’re cool with Chloe, then I’m going to ask them to play.” Reese waited until Carrah nodded and then they fist-bumped in agreement before Reese took off to get the extra players.
Thirty minutes later after a coin toss that gave the guys the chance to kick first, and then nearly annihilating the girls in the first inning with seven runs, the girls were eager to make a play and give their male foes some competition. The 7 to 3 score in favor of the guys had the girls on edge. They had to put some runs on the board or risk trash talk and bragging rights that would endure until they were probably all old and gray.
“Roll the ball, Xavier,” Reese shouted, anxiously waiting her turn to kick from the home plate.
Carrah’s adrenaline pumped hard. The bases were loaded and she had to score. If Reese kicked a bomber like she was notorious for doing, then Carrah, Quinn, and Alexandria all had a chance to score. The second Carrah lunged into racing position, Gavin sent Xavier a signal that made Carter, Reggie, and Lockhart back up in the outfield while he and Chris crashed forward. She read their strategy like a bestseller.
They wanted to catch Reese’s ball and then cut Carrah off from making it home. It was smart and achievable since the girls had only one out.
“Tag up!” Carrah called back to Quinn. “Give it to him.” She then yelled to Reese from third base, “We’re ready! They aren’t winning today.”
“Okay, Seraphina,” Chris jeered, mocking Carrah from second base and then clapping his hands, “let’s go.”
Carrah’s eyes narrowed at him as she bit her tongue and focused on the pitcher. She would claim a run today.
Xavier released a bumpy ball that zoomed down the line to Reese. Without hesitation, Reese ran toward the ball, kicked it with all her might, and sent it up into the sky behind the outfield players.
Carrah took off running down the base line. The girls behind home plate were screaming cheers and frantically waving her in. She pumped her arms harder, pressing forward, and then all of a sudden it felt like her feet were pedaling air, and before she knew it, her face was in the grass. Carrah rolled to her back and looked up at the sky before her vision was clouded by her teammates and a few of their opponents.
Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t know if it was from the pain throbbing in her right ankle or the embarrassment of everyone seeing her eat dirt. She turned her head to the side, wiped her eyes, and spit. Yes, she wanted to answer them that she was physically fine. But she was also mad as hell. When she finally sat up, she saw that Reggie was kneeling over her and Chris stood in the distance holding the ball.
Her nostrils flared, blowing steam. She evil-eyed Chris and then adjusted to get to her feet, but Reggie gently pushed her back down. He began asking a ton of questions in a voice that was unfamiliar to her as his fingers pressed and touched along her lower limbs. She giggled for a second as she came to realize he’d gone full-fledged MD mode.
“Does this hurt?” He pressed at her ankle and she howled to the moon. “I thought so,” he mumbled, “but why are you laughing?”
“Never,” she gritted through her teeth, “heard you like this. You have a sweet bedside demeanor.” She giggled again, poking fun, and he rolled his eyes.
“Carrah, quit, he’s trying to help. Your ankle looks bad,” Quinn scolded her.
“Who’s fault is it?” Her snide tone made everyone look the other way except at Chris.
He moved closer toward her. “It was me. I threw the ball. Sorry.”
“Sure,” she spat back.
Reggie stood stretching his arms between them as Chris opened his mouth to respond. “Blame game won’t help right now, Carrah. I need to get you up to the main club and wrap your ankle.”
Pride had her in a choke hold. Everyone had just seen her crash to the ground and the bright-eyed jerk that made her feel Tiny Tim small in his office earlier had done it again. Except this time he had an audience. She pulled away from Reggie and anyone else who came to help her as she struggled to stand.
Chris had heard that Carrah was stubborn. As he watched her reject help from everyone, he came to the conclusion that her pigheadedness was unlike anything he’d ever seen. She continued to defy Reggie’s medical advice and assistance from their friends. Worse was that the grimace marring her pretty face told him she was in pain. Hell, her ankle was the size of a racquetball and she was trying to walk.
The guilt over being the one to make her fall encapsulated him, and for the second time, he found himself saying sorry. She turned her nose up at him again but not before throwing daggers through his chest and then hobbling a few inches more from where they stood before she collapsed back to the ground.
He went to her and extended his hand. She slapped it away then tried getting to her feet again. “Are you going to listen to anyone?” He sneered, cursing under his breath.
“For what? The damage is done.” She slowly balanced the weight of her body on her right leg until she was back upright. “I don’t need Reggie’s doctor’s orders to see that,” she yelled, pointing to a red knot that was the source of her pain, and then started limping away again.
“Let me help you.” Chris shot in front of her, making himself an obstacle while trying once more to assuage his guilt.
“Absofuckinglutely not!” She shoved him hard until he was out of her way. “You could’ve helped me earlier. You didn’t. Why now?”
The color red took over his vision. He tossed his invisible white flag in the wind. How could he keep it up after her schemes in his office and now seeing such unsavory sportsmanship coupled with spoiled behavior? Besides, she’d discarded their truce the second she placed her hands on him. So much for coexisting for the sake of their mutual friends.
“Fine.” He huffed, scooping her into his arms, and continued walking in the direction of the carts. “You are seriously hardheaded. I had no idea.”
“Put me down,” she hissed. He shook his head no as she squirmed in his arms. “Put. Me. Down,” she growled loudly.
“No!”
“I can take care of myself. I don’t need charity from a guilty conscience. You did it on purpose.”
“What?” He stopped and looked down into her face. Their eyes locked and then she turned her head away. “Yes, I did try to get you out.” He restarted his steps. “No, I did not mean for you to get hurt.”
She smacked her teeth. “You were taunting me on the field, Chris. I don’t believe you.”
“Then don’t.” He tossed her inside the first golf cart he came to and walked away.
Reese and Peyton rushed past him mouthing, Thank you. Ava stopped running and slowly approached him, meeting him a few feet from where the girls were clamoring around Carrah.
“Thanks for getting her butt in that cart.” Ava breathed a sigh of relief as she looked around him to where all the commotion was coming from. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Seriously?” Chris recoiled. “Why do you even feel the need to say that to me?” He sidestepped Ava. He didn’t need an answer because it wasn’t a question. And right now, he didn’t have words for her or anyone else who would even think so low of his character.
Unfortunately, this was the norm or, better yet, the consequences of him attempting to please other people. He should’ve listened to his instincts. They’d been in overdrive, warning him to proceed through the day with caution ever since Shayla called him this morning. Had his father not jumped on the summer fun bandwagon with Gav and Carter, he’d be enjoying a meal with him now instead of loathing the very existence of Carrah Andrews.
“Chris,” Chloe called to him. He gazed to where she stood next to Carter at the edge of the field. Without him giving the order, they knew they’d outlasted their welcome.
He pulled the small hill and continued past them. “Let’s go.”
Chloe ran to his side. “Did she at least say thank you?”
“Of course not.” Chris looked over at his sister and then pressed his lips into a firm line as the three made their way to the main building.
“Was she supposed to?” Carter challenged. “I mean, bruh, you hit that girl pretty hard.”
“Why are you taking up for her?” Chris blew his lid, tugging his brother by the arm so they could face each other. “You did it earlier today at breakfast and then again before the game in front of Dad, and you know how he feels about that family.”
Carter snatched away from Chris. “Dad and Grandad messed it up for all of us, especially you. Chloe and I don’t exactly share an age with an Andrews, but you do. And it isn’t fair that they are off-limits because of junk that happened before we were even born.” Carter restarted his steps. “Say what you want, Carrah has been nothing but nice to me.”
Chloe and Chris looked at each other for a second and then moved to be next to their little brother. “You’re just wrapped up in thinking she’s some beauty queen, Carter,” Chloe spat.
“Right,” Chris agreed, “you need to grow up. You’ve got a lot to learn about women. A piece of tail shouldn’t make you second-guess our family.”
“It isn’t. Ain’t no ass that fine.” Carter’s nonchalant tone made Chris raise a brow. “I see where you and Clo might think that. I’m young, not dumb.” He glanced from Chris to Chloe and then settled on the path ahead of them. “When I went to that first debutante practice as Alex’s escort, all the women who were Mom’s friends looked at me with pity in their eyes. I didn’t know how to process their reaction to me or the overwhelming sadness I felt walking in without her.”
Chloe reached for her brother and hugged him. The three stood in silence for a moment, tears welling in each of their eyes until Carter cleared his throat.
“Mom always talked about you being an escort at one of the most legendary debuts for the Lakeside Debutante Ball, and how beautiful Clo was during her presentation to society. She couldn’t wait for me to honor our family tradition.” Carter choked up and waved his siblings off. “I’m good. But I want y’all to know that the one person who gave me confidence instead of pity and pushed me to live up to Mom’s legacy… even helped me practice the waltz, was Carrah. So I’m saying it again, we shouldn’t suffer relationships with Carrah, Dominic, Beau, or Aubrey because Granddad and Dad didn’t have good ones with their family members.”
Chloe linked her elbow with Carter’s, and they restarted their steps up to the club. On the other hand, Chris remained behind. He understood the emotions his brother experienced and had relived them hearing him confess to the overwhelming sadness he faced upon submitting to a time-honored tradition. The void their mother left behind could never be filled. However, he was content in knowing that someone had shown his brother an ounce of respect for how Claudette Chennault had raised them and helped Carter embrace his legacy.
Irony was not lost on the fact that it was the very woman who seemed determined to cross boundaries that had been set so many years ago. He glanced back out at the field, spotted Carrah, and the disdain he’d held for her since this morning began to morph into gratitude.