Long Pass Chronicles 02 - Canning the Center (28 page)

An arm slipped through his. He looked down.
Bullshit
. “Hello, Lavinda.”

“Hi, Jamal. It’s wonderful to see you.”

If a scorpion had crawled up his arm, he couldn’t be more disgusted. He put one hand on her arm and pulled his away. Her eyes got wide, then narrowed.

One of the reporters too far away to have seen that move called, “Hey, Jamal, is this your girlfriend?”

He dragged his eyes from hers and looked at the reporter. “No. If she was the last person on earth, she would
not be
my girlfriend.”

Her mouth dropped open.

That felt like his cue. “In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you guys about tonight.” He took a breath and walked away from Lavinda. This was it. All the crap he’d flung at the wall was about to get thrown back in his face. He looked out at the crowd of reporters gathering. Some smiled. Others looked like vultures. A few flashes popped. “I’ve got an announcement to make that may be a surprise to most of you.” More people gathered, and a few pressed in.

“What is it, Jones? Is there a problem with the team?”

He looked up and saw the coach moving closer with a huge frown on his face. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get some more drinks going. Additional food is being served.”

One of the guys waggled a hand. “Not now, Hartford. Your center wants to make an announcement.”

Jamal leaned down to Xavier. “Is it better or worse that Arondel isn’t here?”

“Don’t know, but get it done before we lose control of this crowd.”

More flashes went off, and reporters walked over from the bar carrying drinks.

At least he didn’t have any trouble being seen. Jamal waved a hand. “Okay, what I want to tell you is—” He looked over the heads of the crowd and sucked wind.

Standing in the doorway to the suite, holding onto Evangeline’s arm, was Trevor. Though he was dressed in a suit, his pale hair hung like a silk curtain around that perfect face, which made the androgyny unmistakable—and perfect.
Hard to breathe
. “Excuse me.”

He put a hand forward like he was blocking a tackle and pushed across the room. Trevor let go of Ev and stepped forward. The sheer beauty of the man made people fall back. Jamal stopped a couple of feet away. “Hi. Did you come to see me?”

“No, I hang out at football parties.” His beautiful lips twitched.

All the hope that had drained out of Jamal’s heart tiptoed back in. “What did you want to see me about? Your scholarship? I’ll make sure it gets paid, honest. I’ll find a way.”

A crease appeared between Trev’s arched brows. “Why would I care about the scholarship? I’m leaving school.”

Jamal stepped forward. “You can’t. You love school.”

“No, I don’t. It’s no fun when you already know all the answers. In fact, I have a new job.”

“What?”

“Yes, I’m starting next week as an analyst for Global Strategies.”

His grin stretched so far it hurt. “Oh, Trev, that’s so great.” His smile faded. “I missed you so bad.”

“You sure have a weird way of showing it.”

Jamal swallowed and glanced at the avid reporters staring at them. “I’m so sorry.”

“You dumped me. I know dumping and you dumped me.” The crowd pushed closer, and flashes reflected off Trevor’s cheekbones. Somebody was definitely recording all of this. Probably half the room.

“I thought I was helping.”

Trevor put his hands on both slim hips, the enraged diva. “How the hell did you figure that?”

“Arondel said he’d take away your scholarship if I saw you again.”

Reporters scribbled like crazy. A couple shouted questions, but he couldn’t focus on them with Trevor spitting fire in front of him.

“So I heard.”

Jamal nodded. “And my dad’s job.”

The rumble from the crowd got louder.

“Hey, Jamal, what are you talking about? What’s your fucking announcement?” A bunch of the reporters crowded closer.

Jamal glanced up. “I was just going to come out.”

A reporter leaned closer. “Come out of what?”

Jamal looked at him. “The closet. I’m gay.”

“You’re fucking not.”

Jamal tore his eyes away from Trevor and looked out at the crowd. “Actually, I am. That’s what I wanted to announce. I’m gay.”

The place went apeshit. Flashes, questions being yelled. “What do you anticipate other players will think?”

“Do your teammates know?”

One very drunk lady reporter chuckled. “How could any guy take a giant like you up the ass?” A couple of colleagues dragged her away.

Jamal gazed at the face he loved. “So you didn’t come about your scholarship.”

Trevor smiled. “No, I came to tell you I lied about this being a bad idea. I know exactly what we were thinking—that we belong together. I love you, Jamal. If you really gave up on me, I understand. I’ll just love you in my heart forever. But Ev says I have hope, so if you still care for me at all, I want you to know I’m done with lying.”

Quiet. The whole crowd kind of sighed. Or maybe that was the rushing in Jamal’s ears.

Somebody called out, “Hey, buddy, you, the pretty one. Who are you? What’s your name?”

Trevor looked up. “I’m the guy who’s about to kiss the best center in the league.” He took two steps forward and stood on tiptoe, wrapping his arms around Jamal’s neck.

Jamal grasped his waist. “You sure about this, Mr. Landry?”

He grinned. “You may be the center, but I’m the center of attention.”

Jamal grinned and kissed Trev a lot less thoroughly than he wanted to. Flashes popped. The kiss seen round the world. When he leaned back, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, this is the man of my dreams, Trevor Landry. He’s a mathematician.” Jamal gazed into those blue eyes. This was a weird place to be making declarations, but what the hell. “I’m sorry it took me so long to grow up. All I’ve ever wanted was to play football and to have you in my life. They told me I couldn’t have both. If that’s true, then I choose you.” He smiled.

Suddenly an arm went around his shoulders, and Coach smiled like a big-toothed shark at the reporters. “But of course, he can have both. We’re very proud of Jamal. The whole team is. We asked him not to come out when we signed him so as not to take focus away from the promising season.”

Shit
. Was he going to let the bastard get away with that?

“Funny, they asked me the same thing.” Ray Shields stepped up beside Jamal. Hartford’s arm dropped from Jamal’s shoulder like it had been burned. Flashes lit up the room.

“What do you mean, Ray?”

Jet West’s voice cut through the noise. “You all know my best friend, Ray Shields.”

Shields nodded. “I wanted to tell you I left the Diablos a year early because I was asked to. Apparently the team is establishing a tradition of gay centers, because I’m also gay like Jamal. I got tired of hiding, but was, shall we call it,
persuaded
not to come out while I was a member of the team. I didn’t have Jamal’s guts, but I’m happy to be here today to support him.”

A reporter nearby said, “Shit, what are the chances?”

Shields smiled. “Yeah. Two gay guys big enough to take on an army of homophobic motherfuckers. Scary, right?”

The guy held up his hand. “Meant no disrespect, Ray.” Everyone laughed.

“Who asked you not to come out, Jamal?”

Jamal looked around, but Hartford had moved to the back of the crowd. Hard to ruffle the slick bastard, but he looked sick. Jamal raised his voice. “The ownership and management of the team.”

Three people spoke at once. “That’s illegal.”

“Isn’t that against the law?”

“What do you have to say about that, Hartford?”

Coach raised a hand. “I’m not at liberty to comment.”

Harry Rayner, the reporter who had photographed Jamal with Lavinda all that time ago, asked, “So what does this mean, Jamal?”

“I don’t know. The team management didn’t want me to come out, but I was tired of hiding. As you know, they have no legal right to fire a player based on sexual orientation, and if you’ve been at the games, you know I’ve played well.”

A few people shouted out some support. “Damned right.”

“Yeah.”

“So, I hope to keep on playing. That’s the bottom line.”

A female reporter said, “Do you anticipate reprisals?”

Jamal shrugged. What could he say? “As to that, I don’t really have a comment.”

“But I do.” The woman’s voice came from the entrance to the room. Everyone turned. Standing in the doorway with two men he’d never seen was Karin Arondel, looking sleek and in charge in a white dress.

Holy shit
. She must be filling in for the asshole. He glanced at Trevor, who was smiling. What the hell?

The crowd parted for her as Karin walked toward Jamal and Trevor. “Good evening.” She gave Trevor a big hug, then stuck out her hand to Jamal. What was going on? He shook it.

She looked around at all the people. Nobody was at the bar anymore. “Hi. Most of you don’t know me, but I hope that will change. I’m Karin Martin, formerly Karin Arondel, and this is my party. You’re all very welcome. It recently came to my attention that some of the practices of the Los Angeles Diablos were unethical as well as illegal. As a result, I—” She smiled. “—persuaded Lex to let me take possession of the team as part of our divorce settlement.” She held up her hands. “So I’m the new owner. Or will be when the paperwork is complete.”

Jamal whispered to Trevor, “Holy mother of crap. How did this happen?”

Trevor whispered, “Tell you later.”

She motioned toward Jamal. “As you may have gathered, I’m proud to have a brilliant gay center—or two.” She pointed at Ray, and people laughed. “Actually, I’ve spoken to Ray, and he’s told me he thinks Jamal is doing a great job and he’d just as soon continue to protect his broken knees, so I’ve asked him to rejoin the team as our assistant offensive line coach.”

“What’s going to happen to your present coaches, Mrs. Arondel?” That was Harry again.

“Ms. Martin. But just call me Karin. That remains to be seen. I’ll be investigating the participation of all the current staff in the questionable activities of the team.”

“Will there be legal implications?”

“Since the team will be under new management, I’m hoping not.”

Somebody yelled, “Hey, Jamal, how do you think the guys in the locker room are going to feel about having a gay guy staring at them bare-assed?”

“They can ask me if they’re hot. I’ll be glad to tell them.” He laughed.

Karin gestured toward the bar. “We’re happy to talk to each of you, but I see some bartenders and food servers who aren’t getting enough attention, so please go back to the party.”

Jamal turned to Trevor. “How did this happen?”

A reporter tapped his arm, and he looked back.

Evangeline walked up beside Trevor. “I’m taking Trevor home to Mom and Dad’s. Come there as soon as you can.”

“Uh, okay.” He looked down into his favorite blue eyes. “You will be there, won’t you?”

“You can’t get rid of me.”

“Oh thank God.” He watched as Trevor escaped the crowds beside Evangeline and slipped out the door. Then he turned back to the reporter, who had morphed into three. Xavier joined him, and they fielded the press questions. Since a lot of the editors and bloggers there were friends of Arondel, they asked tough, nasty questions.

“What if other teams don’t like playing against a gay center?”

“I think that’s their problem and one it’ll be tough to get to the Super Bowl with.”

Forty-five minutes later, he leaned toward Xavier. “I gotta go. I really need to talk to Trevor.”

“Sorry I didn’t get to meet him.”

“You will, because I’m not letting him go again.” He grinned. “Plus I think the guy knows something about the shift of ownership.”

“Really? How?”

“Not sure, but I’m really curious.” He turned and said good-bye to the reporters, waved at Xavier, and headed toward the door. Karin Arondel—
uh, Martin
—stopped him.

“Jamal. I’m telling the team that you all have a day off tomorrow. I still have a few things to work out with regard to coaching and such, but plan on a bright and early start on Tuesday.” He glanced at Hartford, and she followed his gaze. “Give me your thoughts.”

He shrugged. “I don’t want to speak ill of anyone.”

“Just give me the facts.”

“He’s a good technical coach, but very political. He was a lot busier sniffing up your ex-husband’s butt than protecting his team and players. Arondel did some very bad things to a lot of people, the least of which is me. Hartford never stepped in, even on serious issues like doping.”

“Good to know.”

“You need to talk to Boogaloo Johnson.”

“I will.”

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Thanks to Trevor.”

He frowned. “I don’t know anything about his involvement.”

She grinned. “I’ll let him tell you. But I will say, you have a good man there.”

“I know. I’m gonna try not to screw it up.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you Tuesday. We’re counting on you.”

“Thank you, ma’am. That’s a good thing to hear.” He walked into the hall and toward the elevators.

“Jamal!”

He turned toward Boogaloo.

The big man walked toward him. He extended a hand. Jamal took it. “Thanks. Nothing would have changed without you. I’m gonna get some help. Maybe I won’t be so pissed all the time.”

“I’m really glad.”

“Look, about Lavinda. It’s no excuse, but the woman had a really bad breakup. A guy used her and dumped her. She’s got a mean streak and it wrecked her. That’s why I wanted you for her so bad. A good guy with class.” He sighed. “Didn’t mean to turn the wicked bitch of the west on you. Didn’t know she could be that nasty.”

“She almost hurt people I love a lot.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about both of us. Trixie’s pretty great, by the way. Even if she is a guy.”

“Thanks. I think so too. See you Tuesday.”

“Yeah. We need to get ready to kick some serious Green River ass.”

Jamal stared at Boogie. Hell, maybe they could all change a little. “And we’re the men to do it.” He grinned and got on the elevator.