A Gentleman's Agreement (16 page)

When Blake had shared
with Tucker what’d happened between him and Eunice, he hadn’t expected Tucker
to make an impromptu visit to New York to see him. Of course, he had masked the
trip behind church business, but Blake knew the real reason. He was there for
support.

Lounging on the couch,
Blake stared out the window of his condo at nothing in particular. The more he
tried to banish Eunice from his thoughts, the more she invaded them. His hand
tightened around the glass of cognac he’d been nursing for the past hour.

“You want to talk about
it?” Tucker asked.

“There’s nothing to
talk about. She betrayed me. There’s no forgiving that.”

“You said yourself you
didn’t give her a chance to explain. Maybe there’s a—”

“A logical
explanation?” Blake said, finishing Tucker’s sentence.

Tucker nodded. “Yeah.”

Unlike him, Tucker
found the logical—or at least tried to—in everything. There was no logic here.
Just downright deceit. “How do you explain treachery, except with more lies?”

“I just don’t buy it. I
know you said Johnny is never wrong, but there’s a first time for everything.
This just doesn’t feel right to me. Eunice loves you, man. Anyone can see
that.”

Blake tossed a stern glance
at his brother. “I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about that woman.”

Little good his warning
did.

Tucker shook his head.
“I think you’re wrong about this. You’re allowing your anger—”

“You’re damn right I’m
angry. I trusted her. I loved her.”

“You still love her.”

“No, I—”

“Yes, you do. If you
don’t, if that love faded after only a matter of days, then I’m not sure you
ever truly did.”

“Could you please come
out of marriage counselor mode?”

When Tucker lifted his
hands in defense, Blake rolled his eyes away. Fine, he still loved her. He’d
give Tucker that one. But he refused to admit it out loud. The fact that he
could still love the woman who’d betrayed him only angered him more.

In silence, Blake
thought about the words she said to him in the middle of the hallway for
everyone to hear. “
The next time you tell someone you love them, you should
really mean it
.” Hell, he had meant it. Each time he’d said it. Too bad she
hadn’t.

How could he have not
seen the signs? How did every moment with Eunice feel so real? Especially when
it’d all been a lie.
Because she knew me better than anyone and played that
to her advantage. Played me to her advantage
.
Never again
, he vowed.

He caught sight of the
star ornament she’d given him dangling from the tree they’d decorated. For some
reason, it brought him peace. When they were together, nothing about it felt
like a lie.

Instantly, he shook off
the sentiment. He knew what he’d seen. The pages and pages of calls to Palmer’s
office. Plus, she’d all but confirmed her relationship with Caleb by the
deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face. It’d been all the verification
he needed.

So why in the hell was
he still so confused? There was no room for second thoughts now. Not after how
he’d treated her. Sitting forward, he slammed the glass on the table, amber
liquid spilling out.

Tucker placed a hand on
his shoulder. “You okay?”

Blake dipped his head.
Was he okay? No, he wasn’t. “I’m hurting,” was all he said before pushing to
his feet and leaving the room.

***

Eunice tapped on her
laptop as her Aunt Leona packed for yet another romantic getaway.
Destination—Buenos Aires, Argentina. She loved her aunt’s free spirit. That
certainly hadn’t been passed down to her.

After confirming her
trip to France, Eunice updated her resume. She couldn’t believe how outdated it
was. It hadn’t occurred to her to update it before now; mainly because she’d
been certain FSM would be her permanent place of employment for years to come.

She chortled. Blake had
surely shown her that wasn’t the case. And in the cruelest possible manner.
He’d really threatened to have her tossed out of the building. Even now, she
couldn’t believe it. Anger swelled inside her all over again.
Bastard
.

“By the scowl on your
face, you’re thinking about
him
again.”

Eunice laughed when her
aunt made finger quotes. “No.” When Leona flashed her a who-do-you-think-your-trying-to-fool
expression, Eunice sighed. “Not intentionally. Somehow, he keeps finding his
way into my head.”
Bastard
.

“Call him.”

Eunice scoffed “Call him?
Do you recall me telling you he refused to listen to a word I had to say?
Tossed me out on my butt? Threatened to call security.
Bastard
,” she
said, this time aloud.

Leona laughed. “Oh, he
was just throwing a tantrum. Men do that when their feelings are hurt.”

Being a tantrum
throwing grown-ass man was no excuse for the way he’d treated her. He’d
practically revealed his claim to love her to be false. You didn’t treat the
person you claimed to love the way he’d treated her. No, she refused to believe
he ever loved her.
Damn you, Blake Farrington
.

“Sweetie, if that man
refused to give you the opportunity to explain to him the truth, then maybe he
doesn’t deserve to hear it. Or deserve you, for that matter.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re
right. Anyway,” she said with a sigh. “I’m done with men. They suck. They want
your trust, but don’t want to give you theirs in return. Love’s a sham.”

“Done with men?
Nonsense. I can always hook you up on a blind date. One of the ladies in my
Zumba class mentioned her grandson was looking for a nice young lady to woo.
Woo
—her
word, not mine. Anyway—”

“Oh no! You’re not
setting me up on another blind date. Do you recall me telling you about my
evening with the leprechaun?”

Leona shrugged. “I
thought he was magically delicious.” She whooped in laughter. “Okay, so
mystical creatures aren’t your cup of tea, but—”

Eunice covered her
ears. “La...la...la...la...”

Leona swatted her
playfully with a piece of fabric Eunice thought could be underwear, but there
was so little of it, she wasn’t sure.

“Do you regret loving
him…Blake?”

Eunice studied her
twiddling fingers. “Maybe I should, but I don’t.”

“Then how could love be
a sham? If there’s any mistake worth making, it has to be love. Just look at me.
I make the same mistake of falling in love over and over again. I have yet to
this day regretted one single time.” She folded a shirt. “I’m going to keep
loving until I find that one who…” Leona’s words trailed off.

“That one who what?”

“That one who forces me
to realize that every lover I’ve had before him was merely a stepping stone toward
him. I want us to dance in the rain, make love in the backseat of a ’71 Hemi
Cuda convertible. I want to fall madly in love. And the second I start to feel
sane, he reminds me—with his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his arms, his entire
being—just how crazy our love really is.”

Eunice marveled at how
much in that moment her aunt reminded her of her mother as she danced around
the room. They were as different as they had been the same with one common
trait. A zeal for life and a belief in destiny. Her mother’s words rang in her
head.
True love is destiny
.

“Earth to Eunice.”

Absently, she said,
“Hmm?”

Leona cradled her face
in her hands. “I have raised you as my own for twenty-two years. I love you as
if I birthed you myself.” She kissed her forehead. “If I could, I would siphon
all your pain.”

She wrapped her arms
around her aunt’s tiny waist. “I know you would.”

Leona held her at arm’s
length. “
Call him
,” she said, emphasizing her words. “Make him listen.”

For a brief second, she
contemplated the idea. But then she relived the feeling of standing in her
office, Blake’s words shredding her to pieces. “No.” Her voice dropped. “He
walked away.”

“Maybe you’ll find your
soul mate in
Paris
,” Leona said in accented English. “You’re going to
love it there. But before you leave…do you mind going to the market for me?”

“For you, anything.”

“Who needs Paris? You
might just find the man of your dreams in the produce department.”

“As if.”

A half hour later,
Eunice stood in the market thumping a cantaloupe. Not that she’d taken any
stock in her aunt’s words, it was the fact she’d wanted melon. She wasn’t any
kind of fruit specialist—she had no idea what thumping the cantaloupe would
even accomplish—but she’d just watched the older woman across from her perform
the action.

“Thumping works, but
smelling works best.”

Eunice watched the
giant next to her place the fruit under his nose. Even amidst the UNC ball cap,
dark sunglasses, and the uninspiring clothing, Fredrick Bass—aka Freddie
Fingers—was still recognizable. At least to her. Maybe because she’d watched
endless play tapes of him with Blake. Or maybe the fact that there were few men
in the state as tall as the six foot eight center.

She hadn’t believed her
aunt when she’d claimed they shopped at the same market. It was a surprise that
he even did his own shopping. Eunice glanced around. Where was his entourage?
Most athletes had them.

“It should smell sweet
and aromatic.” He pushed the piece of fruit toward her. “Smell.”

Hesitant, she took a
whiff and smiled. “Huh, it does.”

“That means it’s ripe.”
He placed the melon in her cart. “You take this one, and you can pick me out
another.”

She laughed. “Okay.” Fingering
through the melons, she settled on a large one toward the back.

Fredrick took the melon
into one of his gigantic hands and inspected her offering. “Deep, dense sound. No
breaks, softness, or moisture at the stem.”

If she hadn’t been in
front of him, she would not have believed it. Now she understood Blake’s
fascination with the man.

He ran his hand over
the course netting. “Defined. Thick. Nice golden color.”

Eunice felt as if she
was watching an episode on Alton Brown’s
Good Eats
, not standing
toe-to-toe with the most popular player in the NBA. Finally, he brought the
melon to his nose.

“Smells divine. You
chose a great piece of fruit.”

The compliment swelled
her cheeks. “Thank you.”

This honestly had to be
the strangest encounter she’d ever experienced. Even crazier than dinner with a
leprechaun. What were the odds of her running into Fredrick Bass in the produce
section of the market?

Everything happens
for a reason
. Something else her mother used to say. She’d never believed
it until now. “I hope you’re not giving up basketball to be a cantaloupe
grower.”

He laughed, pulling the
glasses from his face. “Disguise didn’t work, huh?”

“It could use some
tweaking. Plus, you’re like a thousand feet tall.”

When he laughed at her
joke, her confidence grew.
Warm them up
, Blake would say. Despite what’d
happened between them, she had to admit he was a great teacher.

She extended her hand.
“Eunice Howard.”

He shook her hand
quickly. “Nice to meet you, Eunice.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I better
get out of here. I have some folks waiting on me.”

Damn
. And just
like that, he’d wiggled off her hook. “Oh, okay. Thank you for the melon
tutorial.”

“Anytime.”

As he moved away,
Eunice thought about how different their conversation would have been a week
ago. When she was still a member of the FSM family. When she still called Blake
Farrington hers. Her mother’s words repeated in her head.
Everything happens
for a reason
.

“Signing with Palmer
Elliot would be a horrible career move for you.”

Fingers rotated on his
heels, his large frame stiffening. “How do you know I’m...? Are you a reporter?
Are you following me?” His handsome features harden and Eunice likened him to a
pit bull. Well, more like an adorable Rottweiler puppy trying to present a hard
side that still needed cultivating.

She lifted her hand. “God,
no.”
Show them you have something in common
. “I loathe reporters.” It
seemed to work. His expression softened and Eunice continued, “I work for—
Used
to work for,” she corrected, “Farrington Sports Management.”

He inched closer to her.
“Blake Farrington?”

She nodded.

“Cool dude. Just out of
curiosity, why do you believe Palmer Elliot would be bad for my career?”

She shook her head.
“Palmer Elliot is a good agent, great even. And he’s done some great things. I
won’t take that away from him.” She shrugged. “If you’re okay being just a
number, then with Palmer is probably where you want to be. But you don’t strike
me as someone who would settle for just being a number.”

Fredrick studied her
closely, folding his long, muscular arms across his wide chest.

“If you truly want to
be a part of a family, want invaluable career guidance that prepares you for
life
after
basketball, financial guidance that will ensure your
children’s children’s children are comfortable, then hands down, Farrington is
the place for you. Mr. Farrington will treat you like family.”

“Uh-huh.”

“No doubt you’ve heard
the same song and dance before, but even so, don’t you owe it to yourself and
your career to explore all of your options?”

He looked as if he were
mulling over her words. For the first time, she felt as if she’d cracked his
exterior.

“Blake has what, like thirty-six
clients he directly manages? Palmer has over a hundred.”

Eunice jabbed her
finger at him. “That is exactly what should concern you. Over a hundred clients?
Wow. Where do you fit in? Yes, you are hotter right now than LeBron, D. Wade,
and Melo put together.” Her compliment made him smile. “But what happens if you
hit the court one day and, God forbid, you get injured?” She shrugged. “Where
would Palmer Elliot be? Better yet, what
number
would you be then? If
you had a number at all, that is. Definitely not in his top twenty. I can
guarantee you that.”