Long Pass Chronicles 02 - Canning the Center (13 page)

Trixie gazed up at Jamal with those baby blues. “Have you been talking about me, Bunny?”

He smiled, but just the mention of Boogie’s name gave him a slightly sick stomach. “A little.”

Winston nudged her with his elbow which, if she’d been a girl, might have knocked her through the window. “All good. That’s truth.” He looked at Jamal. “Hey, man, would you get me a whiskey soda?”

“Uh, sure. Where will you be?”

“Out by the pool. Thanks.” He walked away. Yeah, that was no walk. That was a run straight to Boogaloo.

Trixie leaned in. “What’s going on? You looked worried.”

“Sorry. Winston is best friends with Boogaloo Johnson. The one with the sister.”

They made it to the head of the line, where the bartender wiped the water from the granite surface. “What can I get you?”

He glanced at Trixie. “Coke?” He grinned. “Not likely they have root beer.”

The bartender laughed. “Maybe it’s not likely, but I’ve got it. You the one who wants it?”

“Really?”

“They ordered it special. Said somebody was coming who liked it.”

Son of a bitch.
“Yeah, I’m the one. Actually, make that two. Oh, and a whiskey and soda.”

They carried their root beers toward the door. Trixie whispered, “I’d call that trying hard to please you.”

“Yeah. Kind of amazing that they remembered.”

They stepped out onto the patio, a true backyard wonderland complete with palm trees, a huge stone pool with waterslide, and what looked like a putting green beyond it. Straight across on the far side of the pool, Boogaloo stood surrounded by his gang of giants. He stared straight at the door like he’d been waiting for Jamal to show up. Winston waved.

Jamal whispered, “This is it.”

Trixie gripped his arm, and her steps got a bit firmer—or maybe he imagined it.

They threaded through the crowd, getting open stares from the guys. Jamal carried the two glasses, trying not to spill, and Trixie kept hold of his arm. The walk couldn’t take long enough for him, but people stepped back so they got to Boogie way too fast. “Hey, Winston, grab it.”

The big man grasped the sweating glass.
Not the only thing sweating
. “Thanks, man.”

Jamal nodded. “Sure. Hey, Boogie.”

“Hey.” The mix of suspicion and awe on his face almost made Jamal laugh.

Boogie probably hadn’t believed Jamal actually had a girl. Of course, he was right.

“This is Trixie, the, uh, person I told you about.”

A couple of semis drove through the silence while Boogie and Trixie sized each other up. “You a model or something?”

She smiled. “That’s very flattering, but no, I’m a student.”

“Yeah? Like cosmetology?”

“Advanced mathematics.”

Winston’s voice was soft and low. “Holy shit.”

Jamal smiled. “Where’s Sasaundra? I wanted Trixie to meet her.”
Yeah, in some other life
.

“She went to the girl’s room, and you know how long that takes.”

Trixie nodded. “Actually, we get a bad rap. You men have those convenient urinals, while we get three stalls and a line that stretches to Modesto.”

Boogie cracked a small grin. “Yeah, plus a new hairstyle, a full makeup job, and forty-five minutes of gossip.”

Trixie gave one slow blink. “Well, there is that.”

Boogie laughed and popped one of his omnipresent pills.

Jamal breathed. Trixie was a fucking master. He sipped the root beer. “Great game today. What do you think Dallas will be like?”

For a couple of minutes they talked football. Trixie listened and nodded like she was taking it all in. Winston kept slipping sidelong glances while Matoa just stared.

“Hey, Boo, baby.” Sasaundra slipped a hand around as much of Boogie’s waist as she could reach and stared at Trixie. “Hi, darlin’. Who are you?”

“I’m Trixie.”

“Well, you are pretty, girl. Who does your makeup?”

Trixie’s hand tightened just a little on Jamal’s arm. “I do it myself.”

“Great job. What products do you use?”

Boogie frowned. “You two want to go back to the ladies room or something?”

“Sorry, baby.” She looked at Trixie. “He hates girl talk.”

Trixie smiled but those blue eyes stayed cool. “Maybe we should talk about football?”

Boogie nodded. “Sure.”

“So, Sasaundra, what do you think about the color of the Diablos’ uniforms? Don’t you think that black and red is a bit much? What if they were to change to a nice lavender? Maybe mixed with green?”

Sasaundra glanced at Boogie while the big man stared at Trixie. Then he busted a gut. “Woman, you got nerve down to the ground. I like you.”

“Is that so? Then I guess I should meet her.” The cool voice came from over Jamal’s shoulder, but he didn’t have to look. Shit, Boogie had brought Lavinda.

Boogaloo plastered on a smile. “Hey, I wondered where you got to.”

She stepped up beside Jamal. “Just having a little chat with Lex.”

Boogie snorted. “Lex? You’re on a first-name basis with the big boss now?”

“He’s not my boss.” She half turned so she was looking right at Trixie. “So you’re what all the shouting’s about, huh?”

Trixie didn’t even flinch. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Boogie cracked a little smile but controlled it, confirming Jamal’s suspicion that the man was scared of his sister.

Lavinda crossed her arms over her chest. No handshakes offered. “I’m Lavinda. Boogie’s sister. Who are you?”

“My name’s Trixie.”

“You’re joking.”

“Not even.”

She glanced at Jamal. “I never took you for a Trixie kind of guy.”

Lavinda wasn’t even trying to be nice. Jamal smiled. “I guess I’m this Trixie’s kind of guy.”

“How did you meet?”

“Mutual friends.”

She shifted her daggered stare. “So what do you do, Trrrrixie?”

“I’m a student.”

Boogie clearly wanted to shift the dial off freezing. “Yeah, she studies math and shit.”

“Oh? Where?”

“SCU.”

Boogie waved an arm. “Well, hell, woman, you did not tell me that. No wonder you hooked up with my man here.”

Lavinda sighed. “My brother is in awe of SCU for some unknown reason.”

“Because it’s one helluva good school, that’s why.”

Jamal looked down at Trixie. “Lavinda goes to UCLA, so she’s no SC lover.”

“Ah, I see.”

Lavinda frowned and eyed Trixie pointedly. “I like
SCU
just fine. I have some friends there, in fact. It just seems like a rich white school to me is all.”

Trixie smiled. How could she do it? “I’m overqualified in the white department, but I could barely be poorer. I just survive off my scholarships.”

“Well, you certainly look like someone is adding a little football money to your income.”

Trixie looked right at her. “Thank you.”

Lavinda’s gaze traveled slowly around Trixie’s face, but Trixie didn’t look away.

Enough of this crap.
Jamal took Trixie’s arm. “We’re going to go get some food.”

Lavinda gave a tight smile. “You want to bring me back something?”

How much of an enemy did he want to make? “We want to take a quick tour of the house, so maybe after, okay?” He sauntered away with Trixie on his arm. Crap, he wanted to run.

Trixie leaned in. “You were not kidding about scary.”

“Yeah.”

“But that woman’s no dummy. Hard to know what she saw.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Same to you.”

They picked at some food on the buffet table and then, since he’d said he was going to tour the house, he intertwined his fingers with Trixie’s and headed down the hallway.
Interesting place
. One wall was glass to the outside overlooking the pool, and on the opposite were doors into the various rooms. Lots of modern art and cool-looking patterned rugs made the place really contemporary. “This place is pretty dope.”

Trixie shrugged. “It’s maybe a little strict for me.”

“Yeah. More comfortable, but kind of like this. That’s what I’d like.”

Trixie smiled and squeezed his hand, which suddenly made his cock the most prominent brain in his body. “You can have this kind of place, big star like you.”

“I’m about a light-year from it. I’ve got no real eye for style. You’ll see.”

“I will?” Her, no
his
gaze connected with Jamal’s, and somebody started rolling the movie scene where the walls went away and the guy drowned in his lover’s eyes. “I, uh, didn’t mean to be presumptuous. Just thought—you know, you’re bound to see it someday.”

Trixie leaned in. “The sooner the better.”

Oh shit.
“Really?”

“I’m done with root beer, Bunny. I want chocolate right here.” She pointed to her mouth.

“Shh. I’ll get a boner.”

“It’s worse if I get one.” She giggled.

Someone cleared his throat.
Damn
. Right behind him. He looked over his shoulder. Murphy’s Law in action. Jamal turned. “Good evening, Mr. Arondel.”

How much had he overheard? Arondel bared his teeth, but the effect wasn’t friendly or amused. “Hello, Jamal. Glad you could come.”

“Uh, this is my friend, Trixie.”

His expression was unreadable. His eyes narrowed a little but got really intense. He glanced at Jamal, then back at Trixie, and presented a hand. “How do you do, Trixie.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, sir.”

“Yes.” His gaze shifted to Jamal. “How is your father?”

Why the fuck did he want to know? “He’s well, sir. Very excited about the game.”

“Yes. Do you know Mr. Jones, Trixie?”

“No, I haven’t yet had the pleasure.”

“Ah, so a new friendship for you two.”

Crap, what was his point? “Relatively, yes, sir.”

He smiled slightly at Trixie. “I’m sure Jamal’s family will love you.” He paused so long a bus could drive through as he stared at Trixie’s face. Then he blinked. “I hope you two continue to enjoy your evening. If you’ll excuse me.” He stepped past them and walked to a room at the end of the hall. He went in and closed the door.

Trixie leaned in. “What the fuck was that all about?”

Jamal frowned. “I’ve got a weird little idea that he doesn’t like the fact you’re white and I’m not.”

“You can’t be serious?”

Was he? Could a dude who owned a team that was three-quarters African American really not like black guys? “I hope not. It was a feeling.” He shivered. “He probably heard me and thought we were being pretty racy. Family values and all that shit.”

“You’re right about the minefield.”

He looked through the glass wall that showed all the people clustered around the table in the dining room. Past that, by the pool, was the treacherous ocean of Johnsons. Too many sharks. “I think we’ve had all we need of this place.”

“You sure?”

“Way sure.”

Trixie put a hand on her/his hip. “Way sure? Will you tell me how a giant football star ended up sounding like a Valley girl?”

Jamal grinned. “Too much time with cheerleaders. How about you give me some decorating lessons?”

“Sure. We’ll paint first.” Slowly, he stuck out his tongue and licked his upper lip.

“Quit that. I still have to say good-bye to the coach.”

He might look like Trixie, but that laugh was all Trevor. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom. Why don’t you say good-bye for me?”

Trevor slipped into the second door on his right and closed the door. Jamal glanced into the living room, but Coach wasn’t there. He turned and walked down the hall, glancing in the open rooms. People gathered with drinks in hand in some of the rooms, but no Coach. He got to the room Arondel had gone into. Door still closed, so unless Hartford was already in the room when Arondel went in, Coach probably wasn’t in there.

Jamal turned to go the other way.

“Unnnh.”

He stopped. The noise came from inside the room.

“Unh, unh. Holy God. Unh.”

The grin spread across his face on its own. What a naughty boy. Mr. Family Values, Arondel, who had not brought his wife to the party, appeared to be having a pretty good time in that room. Weird how many of the people who preached couldn’t quite live up to their own bullshit. Oh well, he sure as hell couldn’t judge.

He made it back to the bathroom door just as Trixie came out. “I didn’t find him, so we may have to be impolite.”

She pointed toward the living room. “No, it looks like he just came in from the front door.” She glanced at him. “What’s that grin for?”

The door at the end of the hall opened. Jamal plastered on a smile. Arondel walked out of the room alone and left the door open.
Weird.

“I’ll tell you later.” They went to say good-bye.

Chapter 9

W
EEKEND
TRAFFIC
on the freeway. Intense as usual. Jamal hit the brake as some dumb sucker cut in front of him. Trevor had picked something soft and silky by a female singer Jamal didn’t recognize, and the buzz of the highway competed with the hum of the music.

Trevor leaned his arm on the console. “Funny that Arondel would be hooking up at a party like that. He didn’t look mussed, you know? And he sure wasn’t in there long.”