Page 2
Story: Beautiful Broken Love
DAVINA
I hardly ever got nervous before meetings, and normally I knocked them out of the park.
Signing a deal to be featured as a Target Black-owned brand? No problem.
Signing a contract to be on display at a women’s expo? Not a single worry.
Having a launch party with Ulta? No biggie.
But for some odd reason, meeting with a professional athlete felt different. Declan was the first famous Black man to give our products a chance. If I screwed this up, it would set back many of my plans—and therein lay the problem.
I was a planner who lived life by routine, which meant this meeting had to go well. I had to keep Declan in my back pocket and make sure he was happy that day, because if I didn’t, I would feel like a complete failure.
Hmm. Maybe that was my ego talking.
I waited at my desk, chewing on a thumbnail while going over my notes. It took only a few minutes for Tish to send me a text with the words HE’S HERE!
My heart skipped a beat, but I played it cool by taking a sip of tea and then walking around my desk to wait.
Less than a minute later, there was a knock at my door.
With the door halfway open, that knock was more of a courtesy from my best friend. Tish walked in first, dressed to impress in a black pantsuit, with her hair brushed into a sleek puff. She wore gold jewelry with her outfit because “gold is for queens” (her words, not mine), and her gold eye shadow made her umber skin pop.
She grinned at me like she was going to burst into a fit of giggles. I had to look away from her before I started laughing. That was one of the silly problems about us being friends. We laughed at the dumbest shit and always at the worst times.
I cleared my throat as a short, bald man with warm ivory skin entered my office, and trailing behind him was a man the polar opposite of him.
Tall, with satiny brown skin, prominent cheekbones, and a sharp jawline, it was none other than Declan Bishop. His coarse black hair was short and lined up, the natural waves like ocean currents in the night. A light trace of stubble was peppered along his jaw and chin like he’d shaved a day or two ago.
He wore a crisp linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and three buttons at the collar undone. A gold chain hung around his neck, a crucifix pendant dangling from it, and square diamond earrings pierced both ears.
The NBA player swept his downturned eyes around my office, and as if he were impressed with his surroundings, he smirked and provided a slight nod.
There he was. In the flesh. Star shooting guard for the Atlanta Ravens and a man worth a lot of money. The pictures online did not do him justice.
His brown eyes landed on mine and locked with intention. I couldn’t help noticing they were a deep, rich brown, but the sunlight pouring through the windows revealed the slightest hint of cognac within his irises.
He gave me a look I couldn’t read. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to find my flaws or drinking me in.
“You must be Davina,” the short man said, offering me a hand. I accepted it, giving it a generous shake.
“I am. And you must be Arnold Glass.”
“That’s me.” Arnold smiled, revealing a rather cute gap between his two front teeth. It suited him, made him appear friendlier. Arnold fixed his blue tie, cleared his throat, and said, “And I’m sure you already know Deke Bishop.”
My eyes slid up to Declan’s again, and he leaned forward, offering a hand to me. I took it and gave it a firm shake. His hand was twice the size of mine and surprisingly soft.
“I’m well aware of who Mr. Bishop is,” I said with a warm smile.
“Mr. Bishop?” Declan raised a brow with a crooked smile. As he did, a set of dimples adorned his cheeks. Good Lord. I forgot the man had dimples. “You can spare the formalities. Just call me Deke.”
“Okay, Deke .” I released his hand as he assessed me with his eyes. “It’s very nice to meet you in person.”
Both corners of his mouth turned up. “Likewise.”
I gestured to the love seat near the windows. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you some coffee or anything to drink before we get started?”
“Water for me,” Arnold said.
“Got any Gatorade?” Deke requested.
I glanced at Tish, who shook her head. “We don’t,” I answered. “But I can have Tisha run out to grab you one. There’s a market right up the street.”
“Nah, it’s all good.” Deke relaxed in his seat, spreading his long legs and placing an arm on the arm rest. The other hand rested in his lap, very close to his groin. I focused on his face, trying not to let the placement of that hand distract me. “Make it water for me too.”
Tish nodded, trotting away and leaving the office to get their drinks.
I stood in front of my desk, allowing myself a minute to collect a breath while my heart steadied to a calmer rhythm. When I faced them again, I went for it.
“Well, firstly, Deke, I’m so glad you loved our products,” I said, and he nodded, looking into my eyes. I don’t know what it was about the way he looked at me, but it was like he was staring into my soul.
Most people put their attention elsewhere or plucked lint off their clothes, because they hated eye contact. It made me feel out of sorts that he wasn’t doing any of that, so I shifted on my heels, ignoring the thought and his powerful presence.
“I’m really honored that you agreed to meet us,” I continued. “I know it’s the offseason and you’d much rather be hanging out with family and friends than coming to boring work endeavors, so thank you.”
Another nod from Deke. “It’s my pleasure.”
Tish returned with two cold water bottles and placed them on the table in front of the men. Then she smiled at me, giving me big side-eyes that screamed GIRLLLLL!
I wanted to shoo her out of the office before my professional facade cracked.
“I see you like to do a lot of small talk.” Deke grabbed his water bottle and opened it.
“Oh. Is my small talk bothering you?” I asked.
He shrugged a shoulder after taking a sip of water. After a wet gasp, he said, “A little.”
“Okay.” I kept the corners of my lips turned up. “Well, then let me cut to the chase.” Jerk. “We were hoping you’d sponsor our products for five months. In exchange, we’re willing to give you four hundred thousand dollars.”
Deke smirked. Nothing more, nothing less. He then glanced at Arnold, who raised a bushy brow and bobbed his bald head.
“Okay,” Deke said. “Seems like a fair deal, coming from a small company.”
“Really?” I sat up taller, my eyes stretching with surprise. We were lowballing him—I knew this—and I expected him to immediately counter it, which I was prepared for, but still.
“You want the truth?” Deke asked, and my smile slipped a bit as he leaned forward and placed his water bottle on the table again.
“Um ... the truth?” I gave pause. “Sure, give me the truth.”
“Well, the truth is four hundred grand or so ain’t nothing to me. I can make that in a day.”
I avoided a frown, which I nearly failed to do, because his arrogance was stinking up the room. I kept a neutral face, though, as he continued.
“But I’m willing to agree to this deal as long as I get to negotiate something else.”
I blinked, confused. “Like what?”
Deke shifted his attention to Arnold. “Arnold, think you can give me a moment with Ms. Klein?”
As if Arnold was used to this, he hopped up and said, “You got it.” He collected a mint from the candy bowl, picked up his water bottle, and left the office as quickly as he’d entered.
I glanced over my shoulder as Arnold shut the door behind him, and from the corner of my eye, I noticed Deke shift on the love seat. I faced him again.
The last thing I had time for was games. I didn’t care if he was some famous basketball player that everyone loved.
“What is this about, Mr. Bishop?” I asked, keeping my voice level. This was a practiced calm—one I’d used many, many times before. Trust me, he wasn’t the first person with lots of money to ever waste my time.
“Deke,” he corrected, which I found funny because he kept addressing me as Ms. Klein.
“Okay, Deke .” I folded my arms. “What is this about?”
He looked me up and down, tilting his head a bit. “Am I getting under your skin?”
I sighed. “You want the truth, Deke?”
He leaned back on the sofa, spreading his legs farther apart. “Sure. Give me the truth.”
I avoided a smile. He was using my words against me, just as I’d done to him. “The truth is you are getting under my skin.”
“Honesty.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “I like it.”
“Look, you showed up here for a reason. There are many places you can be right now, but you’re here. You clearly love our products and you don’t mind sponsoring them, so what is this really about?”
“It’s about you ,” he stated simply.
I hesitated. “ What about me?”
He rose to a stand. This man was a giant—six feet and four inches, according to his Wikipedia, but I think sometimes players lie about their height by adding an inch or two. And Deke was tall, but more like three over six to me. Lewis was six one, and Deke couldn’t have been that much taller.
Still, he took up a lot of space and towered over me like a giant.
“As I said, four hundred grand is easy to come by. And for five months of my time, I normally request more to sponsor stuff like this.”
“We can go up in price,” I assured him. His cologne tickled my nose. Damn, he smelled good, like cocoa butter and mahogany. “That’s no problem. What are you thinking?”
Truth is, it was a problem. We couldn’t go past $500,000. Anything more, and it would really put us in a financial bind. Offering so much was already a risk, but it was one I was willing to take because I knew it’d pay off.
“That won’t be necessary,” Deke said, and relief washed over me, but that didn’t stop the frown from taking over my face, because I wanted him to know I was confused and, frankly, getting frustrated.
If it wasn’t necessary, why was he dragging this out?
“Dinner.” Deke’s eyes traveled down the length of me like I was some kind of snack he was ready to eat.
I shifted on my feet and tucked my hands deeper beneath my armpits. “Dinner?”
“Yes. I’m in Charlotte for the next two days. I want you to have dinner with me so I can personally get to know the mind behind this company and make sure it’s truly worth backing.”
A laugh snuck out of me before I could stop it, and I clamped my mouth shut for the lack of professionalism.
“Oh wow. Um, I’m sorry.” I cleared my throat, pressing a hand to the center of my chest. “Are you being serious right now?”
He lifted a brow. “I’m dead serious.”
“So this is how you get the women.” I nodded at the aha moment.
As if to entertain me, he asked, “How’s that?”
“You do a little bickering, ask them to dinner, make your move, do your whole bachelor-famous-athlete thing, then you drag them to a hotel or something, right?”
Deke let out a hefty chuckle. “I usually don’t have to ask.”
“Right. Because women just show up to dinner because you tell them to.”
He shrugged. “It’s that easy for me.”
Man. Tish didn’t mention how cocky he was.
“Well, that’s nice.” I flipped my wrist and checked the time, feigning disinterest. “I suppose I can move some things around on my schedule to meet you for dinner.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “But it will only be for dinner and to discuss the deal. Purely business. Yeah?”
“Are you always this uptight?”
My eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
Deke’s head tilted as he looked me over, and as if he hadn’t heard me, he continued with “When’s the last time you’ve been wined and dined?”
“I’m not sure why that matters right now.”
“Matters a lot, actually.” He scanned my face like he was searching for the answer. Those eyes of his were electrifying. I found it hard as hell to look away from them. From him . “What’s your favorite restaurant?”
I blinked up at him before finally snatching my eyes away. “I don’t have one.”
“Of course you do. You’re a woman who clearly knows what she wants. The confidence radiates off of you, and I gotta admit, it’s damn hard to ignore. So tell me, Davina . What’s your favorite restaurant?”
I huffed a laugh, which was an attempt to ignore the delicious twist in my stomach. The way he said my name was deep and husky enough to make a woman’s toes curl. I knew the game he was playing, but I was not about to be the woman moaning his name that night.
I just wanted to close this deal. I didn’t have time to drag this out or bother entertaining this man longer than necessary. But the sooner we had dinner, the quicker I could lock it in.
And I supposed basketball players needed their own entertainment too. If I played along, I could hook him.
“Silver Wolf in South End. We can meet at seven, but I have to be out of there by eight.” I wasn’t about to tell him my actual favorite was Valentine’s, a little steak house in the heart of uptown that was a regular for my date nights with Lew. That place was too sacred.
“Silver Wolf at seven,” he said, his gaze falling to my lips. I swallowed, once again fighting that spiral of heat in my lower belly. “See you there, Davina .”
He walked to the door, and I don’t know why I expected him to look back, but when he didn’t, a breath of relief escaped me. It was a good thing he didn’t look back. It meant he was just flirting and hoping to get lucky. But he wouldn’t.
We could have dinner, a couple of drinks, and I’d lure him into signing the deal. His ego would be fed, and my business would continue thriving.
All I had to do was hook, line, and sink him.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2 (Reading here)
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69