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Authors: Rita Ewing

BOOK: Homecourt Advantage
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Reverend Lewis was not about mere rhetoric.

“You can either ask the Lord to help you steer clear of sin and temptation or let the devil guide you to its doorstep. Ask the Lord, ask Him, ‘cause He’s there, He’s here, He’s in all of you. Are you open to Him? Settle up! Settle up with God today.” Reverend Lewis’s voice rang out among the pews.

“As long as there’s a good, there’s going to be an evil, and we have to make a conscious decision in our lives right now as to which side we want to be walking come Judgment Day. And don’t nobody in this world know when that day gonna be. That’s right. Though the light of God illuminates from within us—we are all walkin’ in the shadow of death. Settle up with the Lord today! I am tellin’ you, He’s waitin'.” The reverend slammed one hand down on the podium as he stood there preaching.

Paul turned to look at Lorraine as he heard her say, “Amen” in response to the sermon. He placed one arm around his diminutive wife’s shoulders as she glanced up at him smiling.

He had been thrilled when Lorraine told him last night that she didn’t have to work in the morning. It had been weeks since they had gone to Sunday morning service together. Instead, Paul had been relying lately on his own daily Word readings and the infrequent Bible studies he held during the Flyers’ road trips for answers to his own inner turmoil. It bothered him that more of his teammates didn’t join in on his sessions. Some of them outright ignored him whenever they thought he was in his preaching mode. In actuality, he was just trying to help spread the Word.

Thinking about meaningful coincidences, Paul was astounded how much Reverend Lewis’s words touched directly upon his own life. He’s trying to tell me something, Paul thought as he envisioned God using the reverend as a medium. Paul just wasn’t quite sure how to make sense of all that was going on in his life right now.

“Even with all the sinister things you may see happening around you,” Paul heard the reverend continue, “it’s up to you to stay clear of the negativity. Don’t let yourself be drawn into the fire, not even for a second. I know it can look bright and pretty with hot, dancing flames that seem to beckon you, but as God is my witness, you’ll walk away scarred.”

Giving Lorraine’s shoulder a light squeeze, Paul turned to look at her. She was staring at the reverend as if she were in a trance. Paul briefly wondered what Reverend Lewis’s sermon meant to her.

As he reflected on the reverend’s words, it became clear to Paul that there were definitely some negative external forces at play in his life. Not that Paul expected the answers to everything, but he could not deny that there seemed to be a number of unexplained occurrences lately—at home and at work. It dawned on Paul that if he didn’t bow his head and ask the Lord for assistance in walking a clear path, he would be caught in the eye of the New York Flyers hurricane. Thatwas the last thing he needed right now, especially when he knew something had been troubling Lorraine recently

Paul heard the reverend draw to a close. “Let’s not forget to pray for our elderly and infirm brothers and sisters who couldn’t be with us here today. Open up your heart to the Lord and those around you.” Paul felt Lorraine press his hand as the offering basket was pushed in front of them. He dropped a hundred-dollar bill into the container and reminded himself to write a hefty check for the church as soon as he got home.

“And for Brother Paul Thomas …;”

Paul lifted his head at the mention of his name.

“We pray for you and your teammates as you go after that championship title. Go, Flyers!”

Paul lifted one hand in thanks as various “amens” resounded throughout the church.

Giving a parting thought to Reverend Lewis’s sermon, Paul could not shake the feeling that time was running out. He didn’t know if it was anxiety over having to play the Chicago Bulls on their own turf or the look he saw in Lorraine’s eyes throughout the service.

Chapter 31

It should be a sin for a woman to be that fine, thought
Michael, grinning. As Sandi Cole sashayed across the hotel’s splendid lobby, Michael saw people stop to stare and gawk at the supermodel famous for her exotic looks and Copper Tan commercials.

Chicago’s Bellevue Hotel was well known on Michigan Avenue for its rich and famous celebrity clientele. The various sports teams that traveled to Chicago often resided at the Bellevue the night before meeting their opponents. For years the New York Flyers had made the hotel’s luxurious accommodations their home away from home.

Doormen dressed in royal blue attire and adorned with gold tassels and high black top hats opened the massive polished gold lobby doors twenty-four hours a day for actors, athletes, politicians, and models. It was a private and impressive place, perfect for what the Flyers’ star rookie, Michael Brown, had in mind.

From where Michael sat perched on a shiny chrome and leather barstool, he signaled the bartender for another Amstel Light. He turned around as he heard a subtle clicking sound. He saw Sandi standing on the other side of the etched window, tapping her carefully manicured fire-engine red nails on the glass, trying to get his attention.

Smiling broadly, Michael motioned for Sandi to walk around and join him in the lobby bar. This was the perfect opportunity for him to show off Sandi’s fine ass to two of his teammates who were sitting at a nearby cocktail table with their own “on-the-road booty.” But Michael’s piece blew theirs away. She was a perfect physical specimen. Michael quickly glanced at his reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar. Giving himself one of his infamous
I’m so cool
looks, he turned around just in time to see Sandi stop and strike a perfect model’s pose in front of him.

“Sandi! Look at you, you look good enough to eat,” Michael began, laughing as he took Sandi in his arms and hugged her. “Of course, I don’t know how big my appetite will be. I gotta be ready for the Bulls tomorrow.”

“Oh? Really?” Sandi asked as she pushed against the star ballplayer so she could look up at him. “Well, I’m hungry enough for the both of us. I’ll do all the eating myself.” She smiled coyly and twisted a long lock of her auburn hair around her finger.

Michael liked Sandi’s quick literal interpretation of his words. She wasn’t the type to dig too deep searching for something that wasn’t there. Unlike someone else I know, he thought as he remembered his last argument with Dawn. He and Sandi could just free-flow together.

“So,” Michael asked. “How was your trip?”

“Fine, I guess,” Sandi answered. “I hate airplanes, though.”

“Yeah, I know. They can get pretty scary when there’s turbulence. Was your flight rough?”

“Rough? Oh, no. I don’t like planes because all that stale, dry, recycled air is bad for my skin,” Sandi said, stopping for a moment to peer at her own reflection in the mirror.

The two of them stood there like that for a long moment looking at their reflections.

Damn, Michael thought, we sure look good together.

“We look good together, huh?” Sandi asked, shaking her mane ofcurls into place. “We’d make some pretty babies.” She smiled up at him and licked her full, glossy lips.

“Umm,” Michael stuttered, “I don’t think I’m ready for kids yet.”

“Yeah, well, who knows what the future has in store,” Sandi nonchalantly tossed back at him.

“What are you drinking tonight?” Michael was anxious to get a few drinks into his date so that he could take her up to his room and relax.

Sandi had met Michael on the road on more than a few occasions after their initial meeting at a popular New York strip club one night after a game. Sandi was open-minded and was not the type of woman who got jealous about him going to gentlemen’s clubs. Hell, she enjoyed a good lap dance herself. Michael knew from experience that Sandi was an expert lover, especially when she was slightly intoxicated. She might even do a little dance for him tonight.

It had been easy to convince himself that he had a good thing going with the beautiful model. As he’d rationalized on more than one occasion, most of the guys cheated, and he wasn’t even married—and wouldn’t be if he could help it. The two other Flyers in the lobby bar were very married. But he’d learned quickly, the “side girl” and the “wifey” were separate. The two had nothing to do with each other.

With Sandi there were no strings attached, no questions asked, nothing, in fact, but a round-trip first-class airline ticket and some of the best sex he had ever had. What could be better? he asked himself as he brushed away her nagging comment about them making pretty babies.

They sat together at the bar drinking and talking for a couple of hours. By the time Michael helped Sandi gather her overnight bag and belongings from the bell captain’s desk, both of them were drunk and ready to retire to Michael’s suite and king-sized bed.

He had Sandi’s black Chanel duffel bag slung over one shoulder and one arm around her waist when he stepped forward to push the button for the elevator. Just as Michael held the door open for Sandi and stepped into the elevator himself, he turned around to press the button for his floor. The button lit up and Michael dropped her bag as he turned around and gently pushed Sandi up against the elevator’s mirrored rearwall. As he bent to kiss his date fully on her delicious open mouth, something in the mirror caught Michael’s attention. The doors had not closed completely as Michael looked up in horror at the reflection.

The young star immediately recognized his fiancée striding across the lobby, clutching her own overnight bags. She stared directly at Michael and Sandi, looking shell-shocked.

As the elevator doors closed, Michael stood there feeling deflated and oblivious to Sandi’s persistent tugging fingers. For once in his life, he didn’t know what to do.

Michael sat by himself in the front of the bus on the way to the Chicago Bulls’ new arena for shoot-around practice. He wanted to be alone. He could hear his teammates’ loud talk and was already, after only one year in the league, familiar with the various topics of conversation swirling around him.

Some of his colleagues would be engaging in ticket switching for tonight’s matchup against the Bulls. This, Michael learned early on, was a simple matter of swapping tickets with your teammates so that no one’s wife, fiancée, girlfriend, mistress, or some miscellaneous groupie came in contact with someone the player did not anticipate having at the game. Michael remembered fèeling as if he was a true Flyer the first time one of his teammates had approached him to switch tickets. He had proudly handed over his seats in exchange for his comrade’s tickets.

Some of the guys, Michael knew, would be discussing their latest road-trip conquest, most often referred to as “roadkill.”

After last night, Michael felt like putting all of his own sextracurricular activities on hold. Somehow it wasn’t as fun when he got busted. He figured Dawn must have had a few days off from work and had planned on surprising him in Chicago. After Michael had gotten over the initial shock of seeing Dawn in the hotel lobby, he had rushed Sandi up into his room and left her there, telling her he’d be right back. By the time he’d gotten back down to the lobby, Dawn was nowhere to be found. He searched the hotel, and if she’d checked in, she hadn’t registered under her name. Michael had been calling their apartment all morning trying to reach her.

When he’d returned to his room hours later last night, he’d found Sandi prepared to go and stay with a girlfriend of hers who lived nearby. He’d been grateful and relieved that she’d realized she was no longer a welcome visitor, first-class plane ticket or not.

“Yo, Mike! Whassup, man? You awfully quiet today. That fine-ass honey you was with last night wore you out, huh?” Michael’s teammate Kyle started cracking up at his own comments.

“Whatever it is, brother, you better shake it off. We need you to kick some ass tonight,” Brent said from his seat in the rear of the bus.

Michael didn’t even turn around.

“Michael? You all right, man?” Collin asked, tapping him on the shoulder from the seat directly behind him.

Michael sighed deeply and turned around to face Collin. “Naw, man.” He shook his head and looked out the window. “I fucked up. I fucked up real bad this time.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Collin asked gently.

Michael was quiet for a long moment before answering. “My girl showed up,” he said softly.

“What? What happened?” Collin asked, leaning in toward the seat in front of him.

“My girl showed up. I got caught,” Michael repeated loudly.

“Damn, Mike!” Kyle interrupted. “How’d you let that shit happen? You know the rules; no women on the road. Well, at least not the ones you’re serious about.”

“Man, I couldn’t help it. She surprised me. What the fuck was I supposed to do?” Michael knew his teammates gossiped more than the wives, and wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Man, fuck that! You do your own thing! She ain’t going nowhere. Where else is she going to be able to live large, shop all the time, and drive dope-ass cars?” one of his other teammates demanded of him, obviously thinking the problem had become a community affair. “And I speak from experience. Look at how many times my wife walked out on me and came running back with her tail between her legs. And they want to call us dogs!” He howled with laughter.

“For real, Michael,” a voice chimed in from the card-playing section of the bus. “He’s right. Your girl probably just wanted a little bit ofdrama so you’d feel sorry for her and get her a fat gift. Don’t even worry about it, man.”

“That’s right, dude. Add a little cash to her stash; that’s the only reason they stay with us anyway, all the money we make,” someone else chimed in.

It was hard, but Michael tried to ignore his teammates. Everyone seemed to have some type of advice for him, but he knew Dawn well enough to know that if he followed in their footsteps, he would lose her forever. Plus they were wrong. Dawn was not like the women they were talking about; she genuinely loved him. This just needed to blow over, but as Michael thought about it, he figured maybe a gift would speed up the forgiveness process.

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