This Can't be Life Page 3

  “Hi, I’m Nichelle Carter and this is my son, Tyson,” she said, in a businesslike manner, extending her hand to Simone.

  “Hi, Simone Johnson,” holding eye contact with Nichelle, she shook her hand. She then bent down to Tyson and smiled as she took his small hand in hers.

  “Hey, Tyson, how are you?” she asked, with a sparkle in her eyes.

  “I’m fine, thanks. You’re pretty,” he said, not letting her hand go.

  “Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself. How old are you?”

  “I’m seven. I play basketball like Deon. Will you come to one of my games? I’m better than all the boys on my team.”

  “Oh, is that right?” Simone laughed. “Yes, I’ll come to one of your games if it’s all right with your mother,” she said, standing up with Tyson’s hand still in hers. It didn’t look like he had plans on letting it go. Nichelle stood there with a smirk on her face, trying not to laugh at her son.

  “I’m sure Simone is a busy woman, Ty. Your games are in the middle of the day. I’m sure she works. So, what do you do Simone?” Nichelle asked a bit sternly, with her head tilted to the side. She was looking Simone up and down like she was trying to figure her out.

  “I run my own business,” Simone stared right back at her.

  “Oh, that’s nice, hon. What kind of business?”

  “I’m in the service industry…Deon, are you ready?”

  “The service industry? What does that mean?” Nichelle wasn’t going to let up.

  “It means I service clients. What do you do?” They were staring each other down. I could see that she wasn’t about to let Nichelle punk her.

  “What college did you go to?” Nichelle asked, deliberately not answering her question.

  “What is this, a cross examination?” She looked over at me then back at Nichelle.

  “I went to USC and then to the Paul Mitchell School. I have my own salon on Melrose called Sanctuary. I was born and raised right here in California. I don’t have any kids. I own the loft that I live in. I have a fat savings account. I don’t want anything from Deon but his friendship, and maybe not even that, but we’ll see where this takes us. Anything else you want to know, Nichelle?” She never once raised her voice or broke eye contact with her. I sat there with my eyes bugging out of my head, surprised at her straight-up reply.

  “Well, hell, that’s what I’m talking about! I need my hair done STAT! You got a business card, girl? I’ve been looking for someone to do my hair. The place I go to now is just ghetto. I don’t have time to be sitting up in there all damned day!” Nichelle was excited and smiling for the first time.

  “Yeah, I have a card. We’ll hook you up. And I just might fit you into my schedule since you’re a friend of Deon’s.”

  “Tyson, let go of her hand, little boy, so she can give me her card!” Nichelle said, making us all laugh. I walked over, picked up Tyson, and swung him around.

  “Simone is mine. Don’t be trying to steal my friend, Tyson.”

  “I don’t know, Deon, if I had to choose between the two of you, I might have to go with Tyson. I think he’s a safer bet. Here’s my card, Nichelle. Call us and my receptionist will schedule an appointment for you.”

  “Thanks, hon. I’ll definitely be calling. I like her, Deon. Come on, Ty, let’s get going. Nice meeting you, Simone,” Nichelle said, never the one for beating around the bush, as she took Tyson’s hand and headed out of the door.

  “What was that about?” Simone asked, as soon as the door closed behind Nichelle and Tyson.

  “What was what about? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close to me.

  “Yeah, right! You tried to get your friend to intimidate me! If you had questions, you could have just asked me yourself.” She smiled, pushing me off her.

  “Really, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was putting on my shoes.” I laughed as we headed out the door. I was satisfied with the way she handled herself with Nichelle. Not too many women would have the guts to stand up to her the way Simone did, so she passed the test with flying colors.

  When we got to Gillian’s on Rodeo Drive, I had a feeling Simone was expecting me to fund her shopping spree. She immediately began trying on clothes that had to have been prearranged and awaiting her arrival. One pair of pants in that damned store cost over a grand. I almost choked on the gum I was chewing when I got a glance at the price tag. I didn’t see much special about them until Simone put them on. They had to be specially made for her.

  I had decided that I would buy what she wanted and never speak to her again. I’m done with women who think that I should automatically buy them something just because I make millions. Shit, I want my great grandkids’ grandkids to be able to spend the millions I worked hard for and sacrificed my privacy for. I’ll never go out like that! Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a stingy man, I just don’t like to be used. I’m not a trick, so if I sense that a woman is hungry from the beginning, I won’t deal with her.

  Simone was different, though. When I first approached her, I could tell she wasn’t impressed. She turned me down politely and kept it moving without a backward glance. She wasn’t fazed. Although some girls try to act like they don’t notice me, I can tell that they do. They either shake their asses a little harder when they’re dancing near me or they deliberately stand around where I’m at, trying to be the chosen one. You can tell when you have someone’s attention, and I didn’t have Simone’s. I would stare at her and she wouldn’t even glance my way. And you know damned well you can feel when somebody is staring at you. I would burn a hole in the side of her damned face from staring at her so long and she would never even look my way. I guess she just wasn’t interested, or she was playing one hell of a game.

  When Simone finished shopping, we walked to the register where I was preparing to lose at least a few grand. The price would have been worth it to see what type of woman I was dealing with. But, to my surprise, Simone pulled out an American Express platinum card and handed it to the sales clerk. I was definitely surprised and held even more respect for her after I saw that she wasn’t expecting me to come out of my pocket.

  “You two seem like good friends,” I said, with a lot of sarcasm, after leaving the store. We were walking down Rodeo Drive toward her car.

  “She’s only nice to me because I help keep her store open,” she laughed, sounding very indifferent about the whole situation. I knew what she had just spent and was impressed that she was able to drop money like that and carry a platinum American Express card whose balance had to be paid in full at the end of every month. I knew that her business must be very successful, allowing her to shop on Rodeo and drive a Benz exactly like mine, and my shit was nowhere near inexpensive. Simone definitely had my attention.

  “So, what’s next?”

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, looking at her watch.

  “Yeah, I could eat, but if you have to be somewhere else, I understand.” I didn’t want to keep her if she didn’t want to be kept.

  “No, I’m sorry. I have a client at 4:30. It’s only 1:30. I have time. How about the Cheesecake Factory? It’s right around the corner and we can walk.”

  I glanced at her as we walked down the street and couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was. From the first time I saw her, I knew I had to have her. Her smile was warm and friendly, revealing teeth that were white and perfectly straight. Her lips where full and plump, and the dimple on her right cheek did something to me inside that I can’t begin to explain. There was something pulling me toward her that I just couldn’t figure out. All I could do was follow my gut, go with the flow, and hope for the best.

  “Hello, earth to Deon?” Simone said, jolting me out of my daydream.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I laughed. “Cheesecake Factory is cool,” I said, still admiring her.

  We dropped her bags at her car, popped a few more quarters in the meter, and started to walk toward the rest
aurant. She took my hand and moved in closer. It felt like she belonged there. It felt better than right.

  Simone stood at least five feet nine inches tall with long, chocolate legs that looked to be blemish free. Amazingly, I didn’t notice any on her body either as I took my time exploring it last night.

  She was so pretty that people would stop what they were doing and just watch her. Even women took a second glance as we walked by. The sundress she wore came about an inch above her knee, had thin spaghetti straps, and was some shade of yellow that looked great against her skin. Her cashmere cardigan was draped over her shoulders in the same color as the tan high-heeled sandals she wore that showed off her pretty, French manicured toes.

  It seemed that everything she put on, she wore well. She was showing just the right amount of cleavage and enough skin that made me want to reach out and touch her. Her diamond earrings sparkled each time the sun hit them and her hair blew in the wind and hung around her shoulders as soft curls framed her face. She was definitely my definition of beauty.

  When we got to the restaurant, we were seated immediately.

  “So, where’s your girlfriend?” Simone asked, after we got comfortable at our table. I was caught completely off guard because I’d never told her that I had a girlfriend.

  “What do you mean?” I almost stuttered, saved by the perky waitress who, after taking our order, practically skipped off. I stared at Simone for a while in silence, contemplating what I would tell her.

  “Deon, you’re cool with me and I hope I’m cool with you. So, let’s keep it real. I know you have a girl somewhere. I date, but I’m not seeing anyone seriously. But, you seem like the type that would be in a serious relationship,” she said, smiling and looking me directly in my eyes, her stare unwavering.

  “Well, she lives in Atlanta. We’ve been together since college.”

  “Is that where you’re from?”

  “Yeah, I grew up there and decided to stay when I was offered a scholarship.”

  “I would’ve never guessed that. You don’t have even a hint of an accent.”

  “Naw, my moms didn’t play that. We had to always speak what she called ‘proper’ English.”

  “Oh, okay. So, why doesn’t your girl live out here with you?”

  “Because she can’t handle all this…actually, she doesn’t want the type of life I live. Girls blatantly flirting with me in her face, all the attention that I get. It really takes a certain type of woman to be able to deal with a man in my situation and she can’t handle it. To be honest, I really don’t know what’s happening between us right now.” I hated talking about this because, no matter how tough I tried to be, this situation caused me pain.

  “A few months back, she came to see me. We were playing the Bobcats in North Carolina and when we got back to my hotel room, there was a girl lying on my bed, naked. I didn’t know who she was. Hell, I had never seen that girl before in my life. It tripped me out, but it really tripped her out.”

  “Okay…so, what happened?” Simone was entertained by the story.

  “She flipped out and ran out of the room, screaming and crying. She thought I knew the girl, which was stupid. Why would I do that, you know? If I was going to cheat, which is not even in me to do, I wouldn’t have even brought her back to the room. After about thirty minutes of searching for her, I found my girl walking the streets, crying hysterically. I had to file a police report for breaking and entering just so she would believe that I really didn’t know the chick. It was just way too much for me.”

  “Yeah, that sounds crazy. It would have pissed me off, too, but I wouldn’t have left. It would have definitely gotten settled right then and there. Was the girl arrested?”

  “Naw, I don’t know where she went. We gave the detective a description of her, but they never figured out who she was. Since then, things haven’t been the same between us.” I said, as the waitress sat our drinks on the table.

  “Okay, so the big question is, if you don’t cheat, why are you here with me? Why was I at your home last night? Don’t you think that’s something that you should’ve told me before now?” I could tell that she wasn’t mad, just asking a legitimate question.

  “I know it’s over. It’s over in my heart and that’s why I’ve moved on. I know she has, too. We just haven’t officially done it yet. We hardly talk to each other, maybe a few times a month, and that’s just, like, courtesy calls. She couldn’t support me the way I supported her, but it is what it is. I could’ve said that I don’t have a girlfriend and technically, I don’t, but I don’t lie. So, why don’t you have a boyfriend?” I was trying to change the subject as a look of shock came across Simone’s face. Byron Boyd, a wide receiver for the San Diego Chargers, walked up to our table.

  “Hey, what’s up, man?” I got up to shake his hand and give him a hug. We were good friends in college.

  “Chillin’, man. Just passing through. Season’s ‘bout to start, so I’ll be heading back to Diego in a couple of days,” he said, trying to keep his eyes off Simone.

  “That’s cool,” I replied, looking at Simone who looked very uncomfortable.

  “Byron, this is Simone Johnson. Simone, Byron Boyd.” You could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

  “I know Byron.”

  “It’s been a long time. How you been? As a matter of fact, can I talk to you for a minute…alone?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Talk to me for what, Byron? Please don’t start no shit with me. I’m not in the mood for this!” I was shocked.

  “After all we been through? You change your number and do the shit you did to me, and I don’t deserve to have a minute of your time?” He pleaded with her. Byron was the biggest dog in college, so it was surprising to see him standing there sounding so vulnerable. This was tripping me out.

  “What I did to you? You’ve got to be kidding me! There’s nothing to discuss, Byron! What do you think we could possibly talk about? You weren’t trying to discuss anything when you put your…” She stopped in mid-sentence, exactly where I felt there would have been at least some hint that could’ve given me an idea of what had gone on between them. She took a deep breath as if she was trying to regain her composure.

  “If I wanted to discuss anything with you, I would’ve done it a long time ago. Now, can you please act like you’ve never seen me, Byron? Shit, this world is just too damned small.”

  Saved again by the waitress bringing the food but this time, I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. All I knew was that I wanted to know what the hell was going on. Byron walked off without so much as a goodbye as the waitress placed the food on the table. I sat down, feeling as if I had witnessed something I shouldn’t have.

  “Can you wrap my food to go, please? I’ve lost my appetite,” she asked the waitress.

  “Sure!” She was way too damned perky for the obvious tension in the air.

  “We can do this another time if you want, but my mood is really messed up now and I don’t want to be here. Can you have her wrap your food also?” she asked, for the sake of trying to be nice. Either the answer was yes or I’d have to find another way home, I was sure.

  “Yeah, can you wrap mine to go also? What was that all about Simone?” I asked, after the waitress walked off to wrap our untouched lunches.

  “Please, Deon, don’t even ask. Byron’s a crazy ass lunatic and I don’t ever want to talk about him!” she said, through clenched teeth.

  The ride to my house was a very awkward, silent one. John Legend was flowing from her Bose system and I was confused as hell. I didn’t know what went on between her and Byron, but I could tell that it wasn’t just some groupie thing. I could tell that he really had feelings for her and I needed to know what happened. We pulled up to my doorman and I signaled him off.

  “I really like spending time with you, Simone.” She looked at me with her sad eyes, then immediately looked away. She was a closed book and she wasn’t going to let me in. Of course
, that bothered me, but it also fascinated me. I wasn’t planning to give up.

  “Me, too, Deon. I’m sorry about lunch. Look, thanks for coming with me.” She was staring out of the driver’s side window. I leaned over and, with my right hand, turned her chin so that she would be looking at me and kissed her on the lips.

  “You can trust me, Simone. I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

  “I’ve heard that before, Deon,” she said, looking away.

  “I’m not like anyone you’ve met before, Simone. You’ll see. I’ll call you later,” I said, as I hopped out of her car.

  It seemed to take me forever to get inside of my house. For a split second, I wondered why I chose the penthouse but, as soon as I walked in and saw my view, I remembered. I walked into the kitchen, grabbed the cordless phone off the wall, and started dialing my agent’s office number.

  “Hey, Melissa. What’s gong on?” I asked my agent’s secretary.

  “Busy, as usual. Ron’s in a meeting. Hold on, let me buzz him and tell him you’re on the line.”

  “No, that’s okay. Actually, I called to talk to you. I need a favor. Can you get me Byron Boyd’s personal contact information?” I knew that if anyone could, she could.

  “San Diego Chargers Byron?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Of course, Deon, anything for you. Give me 30 minutes tops and I’ll call you with the info. Are you on your cell or at home?”

  “Call me at home. Thanks, Melissa.” I hung up the phone and waited.

  Simone

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I yelled, as I pulled away from Deon’s building. What perfect timing. I can’t believe that sick asshole had the nerve to come talk to me like he had never beaten my ass and stomped me to the ground. I tried to calm myself for the next few blocks, willing the tears to evaporate from my eyes. They were blurring my vision and I didn’t want to cry. It hurt to see Byron again. Every now and then, I’d be looking through a magazine and see him out and about, pictured with an actress here and there, but it had been years since I’d seen him in person. As I hit Melrose Blvd, I dialed Talise at work.