Page 7

DAVINA

“Today is fucked,” I grumbled. I blew out a gut-deep sigh and faced Tish, who was already standing beside me.

“No, it’s not, Vina. It’ll be fine,” she insisted. “We still have Kenji, and we’re on schedule.” Kenji was our backup photographer.

It was Deke’s photo shoot day, but our original photographer had ended up getting into a car accident on the way to the studio we booked. That was the last thing we’d expected.

“You’re right. You’re right.” I wrung my fingers around my phone while biting into my bottom lip.

“Stop that before you make yourself bleed,” Tish scolded, before dropping her eyes to her clipboard again.

“Sorry—I’m just ... I really need things to go smoothly for the rest of the day.” That was a fact. I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, too busy thinking about Lew.

I’d been thinking about him a lot more since that dinner with Deke. A part of me felt guilty for enjoying my time with another man. Acting like I hadn’t been clinging to my husband’s dead body just months ago.

“Everything will be okay. Relax.” Tish’s voice snapped me back in place. “Deke is getting dressed now, and Kenji is setting up. It’ll be great.”

Tish was right. Other than the terrible news from our photographer, the shoot went well. Deke was skilled, and watching him in action was a sight to behold. He didn’t complain and didn’t mind being instructed on what to do or how to pose with the products.

It was fun watching him be so calm and relaxed, shifting from pose to pose as if he did this for a living—well, let me retract. He did do this kind of stuff for a living, but never with body oils and lotions. It was always for sportsy stuff—Gatorade or Nike.

Deke was photogenic, to say the least. It was no wonder the media loved him.

When Kenji instructed him to take his shirt off, a few people whistled, and he couldn’t contain his smile. I found it hard to look away after that, drinking in the sleeves of ink on his arms, the sculpted abs glistening from one of my body oils. I was almost jealous of the assistant who’d helped spread the oil all over him.

Dear Heavenly Father, he was just too much. I had to grab a water and chug some of it down to calm myself.

When the shoot was wrapped up, relief washed over me, because it meant there could be no more hiccups. Kenji showed me a sneak peek of the raw images, and hope blossomed inside me. They looked so, so good. After editing, the images of Deke were definitely going to change the game.

During cleanup, Tish gave Kenji a bottle of water, then passed one to Deke, who thanked her with a wink. He carried his eyes across the room and linked them with mine as a smile materialized.

I tried ignoring the fact that he was still shirtless. He shot me a thumbs-up while mouthing the words Was I good?

I threw him a thumbs-up in return and mouthed, You did great. He sent me a wink and graced me with a dimple. I refused to acknowledge what that wink did to me internally.

When Tish came back my way, she said, “I’m going with Clarise to pick up the lunch for everyone. When I get back, we can finish up with Kenji and Declan.”

“Sounds good.”

I watched her leave the studio, before turning to look at Deke again. He was already looking at me ... or maybe he’d never looked away. I ignored the rapid beating of my heart and turned for the snack table to grab a pastry.

I glanced over my shoulder, nibbling on a glazed donut, and was fortunate to see one of the stylists had approached him with a sheet of paper and a Sharpie. Deke smiled, graciously taking the items to provide an autograph.

While I was in the clear, I weaseled my way to the seating area and sat to check notifications on my phone.

I’d purposely kept my distance from Deke all morning, and sure, it was a bit immature, but I had to. The Davina from two weeks ago would’ve bounced on over to speak to Deke like an adult, but a week and a half ago I’d received an Instagram message from him.

I had no idea why he bothered messaging me, let alone followed me. Seeing his name in my inbox was a surprise, to say the least. I actually had to check his profile to make sure it was him. The page was verified, so it was.

I went to the app to read his message again:

You look good in that pic of us. Glad we’re working together.

He was referring to the picture of me and him shaking hands in front of the company building. The photo was posted on our company’s official Instagram page and website, and I assumed he found me because my personal account was tagged.

His message seemed like a double-edged sword. At first, I was going to respond to only the glad we’re working together part, but I changed my mind just as quickly when I looked up and saw a picture of Lewis staring back at me.

While I was on the app, I clicked his username, bishopdeke , to view his profile. I tapped the first photo on the page, an image of him on the court last season, dressed in his black-and-red uniform, the bold number seventeen in the center, sweat glistening on his sculpted upper arms.

Finishing my donut, I scrolled down until I came across an image of him with some supermodel. She was slender yet curvy in all the right places. Her hair was dark and curly, her skin a shade lighter than caramel. They were at an event, her arms draped over Deke’s neck, him hugging her by the waist. She had to be Giselle Grace, the woman he was rumored to be dating.

“You left me on read,” a deep voice said next to me.

I gasped and flipped my phone on its face as Deke stepped into view.

He looked from the phone on my lap to my face again with a funny look. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No, no—I was just ... checking some things. Um, what do you mean I left you on read?” I asked, swiftly changing the subject.

“Sent you a message on Instagram a couple weeks ago.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m so sorry about that.” I tugged on my shirt to smooth it out. “When I saw it, I got caught up and completely forgot to respond.”

“You’re busy. I get it.” He shifted on his feet, clutching the bottled water in his hand and taking a thorough look around the studio. I drew in a breath and slid over, tapping the available cushion next to me.

“You should sit,” I offered. “Are you hungry? Tish went to grab lunches for everyone, but in the meantime, there are donuts and cookies at the refreshments table. I doubt an athlete wants to eat that junk, though.”

He chuckled, lowering to the sofa. “It’s the offseason. This is the time when I eat whatever I want, D.”

“D?” I repeated with a confused laugh.

“Yeah, D. I can call you that, right?”

“Uh ... sure. If you’d like.”

I wriggled in my seat, twisting my wedding band. I didn’t want to tell him it was normally family who called me by that nickname. It was either D or Vina. Most times it was Vina. My dad was the one who called me D the most, so it was a little strange hearing it from Deke after not hearing it for so long.

Deke sat back, twisted the cap off his water again, and took a few chugs.

“If it makes you feel any better about your message, I appreciate the compliment, and you looked great despite those unnecessary gold chains around your neck.”

Humor filled his eyes. “Oh, you think the chains were unnecessary?”

“I mean ... I guess I don’t get the point.” I laughed. “Why do ball players wear that heavy-ass jewelry, anyway?”

“Nah, see, you got it all wrong. People love seeing the bling.”

“Well, I think it’s just a way for people who used to be nobodies to show off the fact that they’re somebodies now.” It was a mindless statement, but when Deke turned to look at me, I instantly regretted those words.

The smile melted from his face, and his thick brows puckered. “Damn, Davina. Way to chop me at my knees.”

“Oh—no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean you !” I barked out an embarrassed laugh. “It’s just ... I know men like that. Using all that glitz and glam to prove to people they’re important. But you don’t need all that, Deke. Your personality speaks for you. People love your energy.”

He fought another smile. “I appreciate that, but the chains are here to stay.”

I laughed.

After a silent second, he added, “You have good energy too.”

Our eyes connected, but neither of us pulled away. My pulse crawled to my ears, and I swallowed.

“I bet I do,” I said, pressing an exaggerated hand to my chest. I wanted to change tempo. I needed to. “I’m, like, the best person you’ll ever meet. I’m like those tulips on the refreshments table. I can brighten up any room if I want to.”

“Oh, really? You like tulips?”

“I do. They’re gorgeous.”

“Well,” he said, glancing at the flowers briefly before locking on me again. “That’s good to know. And about you brightening up a room, I believe that’s true. There’s a light in you. Shines bright. I like it.” He winked, and my heart fluttered.

I fought a blush as I dropped my eyes to my lap.

When Arnold called his name and Deke turned away, I was mildly relieved. Arnold meandered his way through the studio, stopping a step or two short of Deke. “Hey, Deke, uh ... G. G. called. Said it’s urgent.” Arnold’s voice was low, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear, but I heard the words clearly.

Deke’s forehead crinkled as he looked Arnold in the eyes; then he glanced at me. “Give me a second, D.”

He followed Arnold to the dressing rooms, and I watched as he shut the door behind him, before picking up my phone again and checking his Instagram.

I tapped the picture that appeared, and the username gisellegrace popped up. Her page was full of half-naked images, duck-lipped selfies, and designer outfits.

Some images of her and Deke stood out, where they held hands while cameras flashed around them or she kissed his cheek while glaring into the camera.

In all the images with Deke, it was like she wanted it to be abundantly clear he was hers and no one else’s. I wasn’t sure what it was, but their relationship didn’t look real. It seemed forced, fake . Deke hardly smiled with her.

I didn’t get it. If he was with her, why the hell was he trying to flirt with me? Because that’s what this was—all the back-and-forth banter. Flirting. Then again, that was a dumb question. Famous and rich men alike did this sort of thing.

Flirted.

Lied.

Cheated.

Made it a game of cat and mouse. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me.

Deke’s dressing room door swung open again, and I noticed that he’d changed into his regular clothes—a white T-shirt that hugged his body, jeans, and a pair of colorful high-top Nike Dunks. I was almost positive those shoes were custom made.

His eyes snapped to me instantly, and this time I darkened the screen of my phone to prepare for his presence.

“I have to go, but thank you, Davina,” he said as I rose to my feet. “I hope the pictures work for you. If not, we can set something up later and do it again.”

With a smile, I offered a hand to him, and he looked at it in a funny way before taking it and shaking. I bet he was expecting a hug, but I had to keep this man at a distance. I had a feeling if I hugged him, I’d melt in his damn arms.

“Thank you for everything, Deke.”

“Sure.” He started to walk away but caught himself and cut his eyes to me again. “I heard some of the proceeds for the rebranding are going toward a spinal-cancer charity or something like that.”

“Oh, yeah. Solid Spines.” I nodded, hoping my throat wouldn’t close up on me from the mere thought of it. I cleared the blockage in my throat and said, “Ten percent of each sale will go to them to help people in need and to fund research for the cancer.”

“That’s a specific choice for a charity.” Deke gazed deep into my eyes. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. It was like he was reading me, trying to figure me out. “What made you choose it?”

One of my shoulders lifted up and dropped down in response. I wasn’t about to get into a whole spiel about it. The last thing I wanted was Deke’s pity. Plus, I didn’t like talking about Lew’s terminal illness with anyone other than my family and Tish.

“Let’s just say it’s a cause that’s close to me,” I told him.

Deke scanned my face. “Cool. Well, I’ll be in town for a couple days. I’ll be hanging with the Charlotte Wasps to school some kids on basketball. If you wanna catch a few waters at a bar, hit me up.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me. “I’ll consider the offer. Have fun with the kids.”

With a smirk, Deke sauntered away with Arnold, and when he exited the studio, I realized my heart had been racing during our entire conversation. I’d been professional with a lot of men during my career, but with Deke ... I don’t know. Being around him made me feel so ... different .

The jokes.

The banter.

The natural flow of our conversations.

But a workplace setting and a bar were two very different atmospheres. One had boundaries, and the other didn’t. If I wanted to continue this deal and keep him the face of our brand, I had to maintain a safe distance.

He was my colleague. Not my friend. Not my buddy. A business colleague.

Regardless, planning to keep a distance from him was much easier said than done.