Basketball Jones (6 page)

“When?”

“Today.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can do that,” I said.

“Why not?”

“I was thinking about going to see my family.”

“You see them all the time. Now do what I said, Mr. Richardson, and get that fine ass of yours on a plane ASAP.”

“But, Dray, I also have my second meeting with the foundation this afternoon. They were excited to hear from me and think that I can help them.”

“That’s all well and good, AJ, but I’m sure you can reschedule the meeting for after you get back. I really need to see you. Don’t you know what tomorrow is?”

“What?”

“My birthday, silly. Even though you already gave me one of my birthday presents, I know you got something else cooking.”

“You think so?” I asked. I had somehow forgotten tomorrow was his birthday, even though I had spent days buying gifts for him, including the new iPhone I knew he wanted. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford one on his own; he just liked it when I bought it for him. It didn’t matter that it was his money to start with.

“Okay,” I said, feeling I was about to let down my mother and my sister too. “Let me get on the computer and check the airlines.” I resigned myself to the fact that I was on my way to Los Angeles, and it really didn’t matter to Dray how much I wanted to see my family.

“Call me before you take off.”

“Will do.”

I clicked off the phone and put the other one with my mother to my ear.

“Sorry, Mama.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Sure. But it looks like I won’t be able to make it this weekend.”

“Why?” she asked, the disappointment clear in her voice.

“One of my clients needs me to fly to Los Angeles to check on some furniture. Duty calls,” I said, hating that I was lying to my mother.

“Well, maybe next week. I’ll tape Bella’s performance. AJ, Bella is really getting good with this dancing. She is thinking about running in that teen pageant, and if she does you can’t miss that,” Mama said. “She’ll never forgive you if you don’t show up for that.”

“I will. Got to run, Mama. I love you.”

“Love you too, baby. Don’t work too hard.”

A little after two A.M. I arrived at LAX. I hadn’t checked my luggage, so I went straight to the limo section and saw a big, buff blond guy with sunglasses holding up a sign with my last name on it. When I walked up to him and told him I was Mr. Richardson, he looked startled. As if he doubted I was his real passenger, he asked me where I was going.

“To the Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills,” I said with irritation.

“Then you got the right guy,” he answered, sounding slightly friendlier than before.

I could tell he was the talkative type, so when we got into the car I wanted to say I was tired and didn’t feel like talking. He could go back to being his snotty self. But I didn’t.

“Where you from?”

“North Carolina.”

“Is that where you came from today?”

“No,” I said, hoping he would get the clue from my short answers.

“Where did you start your day?”

“New Orleans.”

“How is it there now?”

“Better.”

“Do you think it will ever be the same?”

“I hope so.”

“How long have you lived there?”

“Not long.”

“Do you come to Los Angeles much?”

“No.”

“You here on business or pleasure?”

“Both.”

“The hotel you’re staying at is real nice. A lot of celebrities and ball players stay there. Do you play ball?”

“No,” I answered. I wanted to respond, Do I look like a ball player at five-foot-eight?

“What type of business you in?”

“Interior design.”

“Okay. I’ll let you rest. You must be tired.”

Finally, I thought, as I repositioned myself in the back of the limo. Just as I got comfortable and was about to kick off my shoes, I heard his voice again.

“Well, here we are. I’m going to give you my card in case you need a driver while you’re out here. Do you need help with your luggage?”

“Thanks, but I don’t have much. Just one bag. I can make it.”

“I guess you won’t be out here long.”

“No, not long,” I said, stepping out into the cool morning air. Thank God it wasn’t as hot as it had been in New Orleans.

The opulent hotel lobby was empty and quiet. I walked up to
the marble front desk where the night clerk looked busy on the computer.

“Excuse me,” I said.

“Yes, sir, how can I help you?” She smiled.

“Are you holding a key for an Aldridge Richardson?”

“Let me check.”

After a few minutes she said, “Yes, here we go. Your party is in villa eight. All you need to do is go out the double doors around the corner. There will be signs. Do you need help with your luggage?”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.”

She handed me the pass key and I nodded thank you.

I walked around the corner and through the double doors and followed the sign that led to villas 7 to 12. I got excited at the thought of sleeping next to Dray. We didn’t get many chances to do that since he’d gotten married. When I reached number 8 I slowly climbed the stairs and opened the door.

The living room was decorated with traditional furnishing and a fireplace was roaring while soft music played, but there was no sign of Dray. I noticed a half-finished bottle of champagne and some chocolate-covered strawberries on the bar. I walked over and saw a “welcome to the hotel” note addressed to Dray and poured myself some champagne. It was sweet and not flat, leading me to guess it hadn’t been open long.

I grabbed my products bag from my suitcase, went into the bathroom, and brushed my teeth and took off my clothes, leaving my T-shirt and underwear on the floor. Then I walked into the large master bedroom. There I found Dray sprawled out on the bed, his back turned toward me. He was sound asleep. I crawled into the king-sized bed as quietly as I could and began to look for the remote so that I could turn off the television.

Just as I settled into my spot in bed, I felt Dray’s huge hands wrap around my waist and pull me close to him in the spoon position. Since he wasn’t usually a cuddler, I was going to enjoy this.

“You made it,” he said, kissing me on my ears and neck. Dray wasn’t wearing underwear and the warmth of his body soothed me. “I’m so glad you’re here, AJ. You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“For what?” I asked.

“Making you cancel your meeting and your trip to see your family.”

“No, I’m cool. I called the foundation and they said I could come in when I get back. I’ll see Mama and Bella another weekend.”

“Cool, boi.”

“Oh, I forgot. Happy birthday, Dray.”

He looked at the clock and then back at me and said, “Yeah, it is my birthday. Where are my gifts?” He smiled expectantly.

“Why don’t we wait until tomorrow?”

“That’s cool. I already know I’m getting an iPhone.”

“You do? How do you know that?”

“Because I know you and I know you know I love gadgets.”

“Maybe your wife will get you one,” I said, half teasingly.

“No, she already gave me my gifts before I came out here. She bought me a watch, some shirts, and that skin-care stuff you give me facials with.”

I’d debated whether to tell Dray I’d run into Judi. I didn’t want to trip him out but at the same time I wanted him to know. Since he brought it up, I went ahead.

“I know,” I said quietly.

“How do you know that?”

“I saw her buy it.”

“You did?” Suddenly he was wide awake.

“Yeah, she was with some other lady and I was in the store getting ready to buy you that skin-care package. But Judi beat me to the punch. I felt kinda silly.”

“Why, baby boi?”

“I don’t know. I just did. But don’t worry. I didn’t say anything to her and avoided eye contact.”

“AJ, you could have gotten it for me and just kept it at your house. Do you think she saw you?”

“She didn’t even look in my direction.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t remember you from the party,” Dray said.

“What party?”

“Remember the one the Hawks owner gave and you came? She was there. I know you saw her.”

“Oh yeah, but remember you didn’t introduce us,” I teased.

“I didn’t think you wanted to meet her.”

“That was cool. So how was camp today?”

“It was cool, but they are working my ass off. Still need to get that free-throw mojo working again.”

“It will happen, babe. You’ll get it back,” I said, stroking his chest.

“You ready for da business?”

“Yes, babe.”

“So when do I get my birthday kiss?”

“Now, and as many as you want.” I kissed Dray deeply and he held me tightly. This was going to be a great couple of days, I thought, suddenly very happy Dray had made me cancel my trip home.

Then he nudged his head into my neck and the next thing I heard was Dray’s snoring. Da business would have to wait for another night.

When I woke up, Dray had already left for camp. There
was
a note in the bathroom telling me he’d be back around six and to get ready for a special night. In anticipation I did the Hollywood wives thing, big time.

The weather in Beverly Hills was magazine-cover perfect, with a warm breeze. I had breakfast on the terrace by the pool and was going to call the chatty limo driver to take me shopping, but the hotel concierge offered me their driver. I was taken to Rodeo Drive, where I went into several trendy shops, including my favorite, Gucci. After a couple of hours, I purchased a pair of sheer black briefs with a matching undershirt that I knew would blow some blood to Dray’s dick later that evening. I bought Dray five Italian shirts we couldn’t get in New Orleans and a couple of knit shirts to wear with jeans. I even found a couple of pairs of size-thirteen sneakers I knew he didn’t own. I loved buying clothes for him, even though technically I was spending his money. It made me feel even closer to him.

After a late lunch with two glasses of wine at a steakhouse on Robertson Boulevard, I called the driver to come and take me back to the hotel. I had to get ready for my special evening with Dray.

When I got back to the hotel, the bellman took my shopping bags and promised to send them to the villa. I walked through the lobby empty-handed, noticing several women, both black and white, enjoying high tea in front of a huge fireplace.

I reached the villa and was a little surprised to find the
DO
NOT DISTURB
light on, but figured it was a mistake. I placed my key in the slot but instead of the green light going off, a faint yellow light in the middle flashed. I double-checked to make sure that I was at villa 8 and then I tried it again, but got the same result.

Maybe one of my credit cards had demagnetized the card key when I put it in my wallet. I went back to the lobby to get another key.

A petite desk clerk with brunette hair wound into a tight bun smiled from behind the front desk.

“Something is wrong with my key,” I said, handing her the card.

“Sorry about that, sir. What’s your room number?”

“I’m in villa eight.”

“May I see some form of identification?”

“Sure.” I pulled out my driver’s license.

She looked at it and then punched in a few keys on her computer. Something was wrong. She looked puzzled and said, “Sorry, sir, but are you sure you’re in villa eight?”

“Yes, I am sure,” I answered with confidence.

“Then there must be some mistake. This villa is in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Drayton Jones. I know that’s right—I checked in Mr. Jones yesterday and gave a key to his wife a few hours ago. I remember him because he was so tall.”

“His wife? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. We chatted about the huge pink diamond she was wearing. She told me it was a gift from her husband and that they were out here celebrating some big news and her husband’s birthday. She was so happy and excited.”

I was at a loss for words and for a moment just stood there in silence. At first I was embarrassed. I must have looked like a
fool trying to get in a room I obviously now didn’t belong in. Then I got mad wondering what Judi’s ass was doing out here. How could Dray do this to me?