Page 5 of Defending the Post
“I had the place repainted before you made it. At one time, everything was pink, beige and white,” she said, and I winced.
Somehow, pink became the universal color for women, but I couldn’t stand it. I preferred bolder colors. Give me black, maroon, or a shade of green any day of the week. Examining the area, I smiled at the three floor-to-ceiling windows, making L.A. my permanent piece of art. A large TV hung above the fireplace, perfect for my video games. I imagined myself resting on the oversized sectional with a fire blazing, in a full-on battle.
“The fridge is fully stocked, I know you prefer to prepare your own food,” she said.
The marble island alone with the brown veining said cook, and I planned to, every day. From the kitchen, the viewremained with the room’s open concept. After I explored the bedroom, I found Jhae scrolling on her phone in the living room.
“This place is beautiful,” I said.
She smiled after peering up from her phone. “If you decide to stay, we will discuss other arrangements if you want to remain here.”
If I saved and used my inheritance money, I might be able to afford it.
“Thank you for agreeing to leave Midwest Records and join me on this independent journey,” she said.
My time in Chicago had come to an end. It took me six years to graduate from Chicago U with my music management and public relations degree. I applied as an intern and worked my way up the ladder to gain experience. Touring with Jhae and then KC pushed back my graduation, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. The experience of touring with large groups of people, crisis management, and gaining connections couldn’t be taught in a classroom.
“Thank you for thinking about me. My time had run its course in Chicago,” I said.
Jhae sat in the living room as I changed my attire for the game. With her being a league wife, we were guaranteed good seats. I twirled in the mirror, happy with my outfit, oversized glasses, and red lipstick. Initially, I may come across as a pushover, but if provoked, I could get rowdy. I could be as bold as my fashion choices. Stepping into the living room, I cleared my throat.
“Ahem,” I said.
Jhae snapped her fingers a few times, sending us both into laughter.
“Tonight, should be fun,” Jhae said, as she wrapped her arm around mine.
Being escorted to the floor seats by security exhilarated me, especially with a lively crowd in the background. This was my first in-person Basketball League game, and I was glad I waited to experience this with Jhae. We approached the seats behind the players’ bench, and I gasped at how close we were. I could touch the players from the L.A. team by leaning forward. Following Jhae, I paused as she gave an awkward greeting to a woman in a designer business suit.
“Erin, please meet my mother-in-law, Anissa Shaw. This is my father-in-law, Khalil, my sisters-in-law, Ivey and Khaira,” she said, pointing to everyone individually.
“This is Erin, my assistant and creative director,” she said, and everyone greeted each other.
I took my seat, happy I hadn’t brought my purse. There wasn’t any place to sit it, and the floor was not an option. Jhae almost bounced out of her seat as the twins approached the sideline. She stood with excitement, wrapping her arms around who I assumed was her husband. He pecked her lips twice and glared into her eyes with longing. The camera flashing interrupted the moment, and she waved me to them.
“Malcolm and Marquise, this is Erin,” she said.
Malcolm extended his hand in my direction for a greeting. “It’s nice to meet you. Let us know if you need anything,” he said.
I nodded with a smile before shifting my hand toward Marquise. He scanned my body before walking onto the court, leaving my hand hanging. Malcolm turned to his brother then peered down to his parents before his eyes found me. A slow, loaded smile adorned his face.
“Excuse him,” he said, before walking away.
Hello to you, too,asshole,I thought to myself as Marquise left my hand dangling in the air. Why did the fine ones have to be crazy, liars, womanizers, and yes, assholes? I guess it’s the rich and attractive starter pack.
“Erin, I’m sorry. Marquise usually isn’t rude to women,” Jhae said.
I waved her away with a smile. Working in the music industry and around creatives, nasty attitudes came with the territory. Big egos usually meant unhealed trauma. I mean, we all have it, but it’s how you deal with it. Malcolm approached his brother but covered his mouth as they spoke. We watched the players move to mid-court to jump for the ball. Seattle took possession.
“Erin, I’m really sorry,” Jhae said again, tapping my leg, and the size of her ring made me blush.
“Marrquisssee, slammed the ball down,” the announcer yelled with animation.
The crowd stood in response to the dunk I missed. Looking upward at the jumbo T.V., I agreed with the announcer. Marquise slammed the ball down, putting his nuts in his opponent’s face. I placed a balled fist up to my mouth to cover my expression. Number ten on Seattle should beat his ass for the disrespect alone. He ran up to Marquise, but his teammate held him back. Several of L.A.’s teammates crowded the area.
The whistle blew, sending the game to a timeout, and the new Icey played. I moved side to side, quoting,“It’s Big Icey, Baby,”while snapping my fingers. As I swayed my head with closed eyes, I opened them to find Marquise glaring at me. The wrinkled forehead and tight jawline suggested he was upset. I hiked my brows with a slanted head in his direction, challenging his attitude. Malcolm laughed as he tapped his brother’s chest.
“I don’t know what his problem is. Marquise plays too much, but he is being an asshole,” Jhae said, as she leaned over and whispered in my ear.
