Always Unique (7 page)

Fat Tee brushed the last comment off and was thinking about what Unique said. Then it dawned on her that the fool had never seen this many precious stones in his life, outside of a movie. But that wasn’t her problem and she continued to sell the gems to him. “They’re top-notch cuts and the clarity is ridiculous. Well over millions of dollars retail.” She looked in his eyes. “Do it right…,” she assured him with sincerity, “and you’ll come off with a million plus.”

Unique could tell by Fat Tee’s blank expression that he had no idea if what she was saying was true or if she was just shooting game to him. Fat Tee sold drugs and dealt in cash; that’s all he really knew. “Look, I’m not blowing smoke up your ass. I wish we could keep them for myself. I’m just trying to make this right because what Took did was wrong,” she said genuinely.

“She putting you onto something new and at this point; what do you have to lose?” Tyeedah asked.

Unique’s patience was growing thin with all this back-and-forth with Fat Tee, and she was about to tell him to take it or leave it when her cell phone went off. It was Kennard calling. This wasn’t the time or place to take his call. But it
was
her cue to end this meeting and get the hell out of there. For good. “I think our business is done,” she said. “I have a life to go live now that this chapter is closed.” She got up to leave.

Fat Tee stayed seated. “I think I’ll stay for a cup of espresso.”

He was blocking Tyeedah in. “Excuse me,” she said.

He played dumb. “My bad.” Or maybe he wasn’t playing. He stood up so that Tyeedah could pass. When she did, Fat Tee smacked her on her behind.

Tyeedah shot him a look like she wanted to cut his head off with a dull knife right there in the coffee shop. “That’s your first and last time ever touching me,” she said, with the words of dynamite.

Fat Tee rolled his eyes and Unique stepped in. “Let’s go, girl.” Unique pulled Tyeedah by the arm. “He’s not worth the drama. Like I said, our business here with this Bozo is done.” Unique walked out of the coffee shop with Tyeedah, satisfied that she’d righted a wrong and had gotten a bitch-ass nigga off of her back in the process.

It was too bad that Fat Tee had other plans.

THE HOOPLA

It was Thursday, two days before the big fight. It had been a couple of weeks since the big news that she and Kennard were expecting their first child and Unique seemed to be glowing. She wasn’t showing any signs of a baby bump but with Fat Tee off her back, she was starting to embrace the fact that she was indeed about to bring a life into the world. And she was the first to admit that it was a scary thought.

It was standing room only at the grand ballroom of the Tabby Hotel. Unique sat in her seat, positioned between Tyeedah and Kennard’s mother, Katie, who loved Unique and thought that she was a lovely Southern belle. In Ms. Katie’s eyes, the girl was a godsend to her son and could do nothing wrong. The conservative lady would go into a cardiac arrest if she knew that Unique was no angel and had been to hell and back.

They were there for the press conference in preparation for the big fight at Madison Square Garden. With a sellout crowd and all the hoopla and hype surrounding the fight, Unique wondered what more press could they really need?

Both boxers had outsized personalities and backstories that lent themselves to characters created for television, and this event was staged for pure entertainment. Rumor had it that both fighters had been offered reality shows on VH1.

The champ was Jockney Jang, who was signed to Kennard’s management company although on paper he belonged to Ms. Katie. The Muhammad Ali Boxing Reform Act didn’t permit promoters to manage and promote boxers, so this was the way to maneuver around that rule. Jang had been with Knockout Management for eight years. He had an undefeated record and was known for his flamboyance and trash talk.

He punished the guys who got in the ring with him and afterward would feel so bad about the damage that he’d done that he’d often send flowers and letters of apology to some of his opponents’ mothers and wives for having to witness their loved ones take such an embarrassing beat down in front of them.

His opponent was a guy who, three years ago, no one thought would ever fight another match that didn’t involve him in taking a dive. At that time, Taymar Woodley was nothing more than just another washed-up boxer who appeared to lose his drive and passion for the art of boxing. The rumor mill had it that his sole purpose for even being in the ring was to get the IRS off his back and get current with child-support payments to all his babies’ mothers.

One day, Kennard and Taymar were talking about life and the sport in general.

Taymar said he wished he had a chance to do it all over again, how he would train like there was no end and never take anything for granted. Would’ve, should’ve, and could’ve were all Taymar kept saying, as Kennard listened attentively to him.

For years, Kennard had seen something in this man that Taymar didn’t even see in himself anymore: a champion.

Kennard decided that since odds had always been in his favor, he’d take his chances and roll the dice on Taymar. The guy just needed the right people in his corner, and it started with the trainer.

Kennard’s dad, Bernard, was the best of the best when it came to training champions. Bernard had been in the boxing game since he was ten years old. He started out as a prizefighter and went on to become one of the best trainers in the sport. Then one day, he gave up training professional boxers to dedicate all of his time and money to giving back to the youth, training underprivileged kids to become Olympic-quality fighters and even better men became his new passion.

Bernard had high expectations and big dreams for his only son, Kennard, who was once a boxing phenom himself. He’d never lost a fight all the way through the Junior Olympics, generating huge buzz. Everybody in boxing knew that Bernard’s boy was destined for stardom and would one day become the heavyweight champion. There was no doubt that Kennard had the potential to exceed any of his father’s expectations, if only it was what
he
wanted.

The problem was, at the time, Kennard was sixteen and being a champion in the ring
wasn’t
what he wanted. That was his father’s dream and his father’s father’s. Not at all his.

Kennard’s dream at the time was to be a street champion. He was more interested in running the block than moving around in the ring. Eventually he lost his focus for boxing, and instead redirected his attention to building a drug empire.

But after his girl and unborn child were kidnapped and murdered, Kennard got back into boxing, fulfilling his promise to Kyra. To channel his frustrations, he went to the boxing gym faithfully, but this time around, he took interest in the business end. At first, Bernard was still upset that his son, a natural boxer, had thrown away his career, but he couldn’t deny that the boy’s business sense was impeccable.

He had all the qualities a good businessman needed: he was funny, charming, calculating, smart on many levels, egotistical, demanding, and slightly neurotic. All these components made him a force to be reckoned with. He could cause a vertigo effect on people by talking circles around them if they weren’t careful. For this reason alone, most people preferred to negotiate with Kennard on paper or across the e-mail.

Kennard had to convince his father to come out of retirement and train Taymar, but it wasn’t easy.

“Dude is washed up,” Bernard had said, when his son first brought up the idea.

Kennard looked at his father dead-on. “Well, if anyone can bring him back, you can, Pop. You won’t be sorry.”

“Do you know the difference between a dream and a fairy tale, son?” he said. “Dreams are meant to be achieved. Fairy tales are to be believed.”

“I see it slightly different, Dad. I think that dreams are meant to be believed, as well. However, fairy tales are meant to convince someone else to believe
in
them.”

Bernard chuckled. “I think we’re saying the same thing.”

“I feel strongly about this, Pop. But, make no mistake about it; I’m going to need your help to pull it off.”

Bernard said that he would think about it and then walked away. Kennard was sure that Pops would do it, but knew better than to press his father. The man was as stubborn as he was a good trainer. A week later, Bernard sat Kennard down.

“You really believe in this guy?” The question had come from left field as far as Kennard was concerned. He thought his father had dismissed the idea altogether.

“Yeah, Pop. I do.” Kennard could barely contain his smile. “Call it a hunch.”

Kennard and his father didn’t always see eye to eye, but Bernard loved his son more than life itself, and he believed in his son’s instincts.

Bernard signed on as Taymar’s trainer; Kennard signed the fighter to Knockout Management. Taymar understood that this was his last chance. With the father-son duo behind him, if he listened to them, his financial woes would be a thing of the past. And since that time Taymar didn’t look back, only down on the chumps unlucky enough to get in the ring with him.

*   *   *

Unique had to admit, she was enjoying the festivities. Not only were both boxers signed to Kennard’s management company, he was one of the promoters as well. Her man was a genius when it came to making money. And he was a stallion in bed.

When Taymar walked on the stage, he was carrying a big, beautifully wrapped gold box with a black bow, which he handed to Jang. “I bought you a present,” he said into the microphone, for everyone to hear.

Jang played along, good sport and all.

“You shouldn’t have,” he said.

Jang opened the box. A sheepish smirk appeared on his face once he looked inside. A wreath of flowers, the kind mourners send to funerals. Taymar had beaten him at his own game.

The card read:
FOR THE COUNT OF TEN. REST IN PEACE!

Unique was enjoying herself, sitting beside her future mother-in-law … all the way up until she looked over her shoulder. Fat Tee was there, with a Kool-Aid grin plastered on his face.
What the fuck did he want now
? All Unique knew was she wasn’t going to dare let him come over and approach her, with Ms. Katie sitting there to witness whatever recklessness he had to say.

Ms. Katie could see the look on Unique’s face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you okay, dear?”

“What’s wrong?” Tyeedah asked, sensing something wasn’t right.

“I have to go to the restroom. I think I’m going to be sick.” Unique stormed off quickly. She knew she had to leave the press conference because she didn’t want any confusion between her and Fat Tee to pop off especially since Kennard was within a fifty-foot radius. Ms. Katie was about to direct Tyeedah to go with Unique, but Tyeedah could already sense that something was wrong and was hot on Unique’s heels. Fat Tee followed them both.

Outside of the ballroom in the lobby of the hotel, there were a few people hanging out but they were caught up in the festivities and didn’t pay them any mind. Fat Tee stopped them in their tracks right outside the ladies’ restroom.

He called out, “Ayo, I need to talk to you.”

Unique spun around. “We have nothing to talk about. I told you two weeks ago, our business is over,” she said discreetly, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to them. Tyeedah just crossed her arms over her chest, watching with contempt.

“It’s over when I say it’s over.” He leaned in and said to Unique in a low tone, “And the fat lady hasn’t even warmed up her pipes yet.”

“What do you want now?” Unique asked. At that second, she regretted refusing to take Tyeedah’s advice from the beginning.

“Besides an early death,” Tyeedah mumbled under her breath.

Fat Tee shot a look at Tyeedah to blow her off, then focused back on Unique, and leaned in even closer, and firmly told her, “You gone set that nigga up for me, just like you did me for Took. Same shit, just different day, different people.”

“Are you crazy? Fuck outta here, I’m not doing that shit,” she blurted out, not caring if people heard her. She thought that she was going to be sick but it took everything in her to not go crazy and make a scene.

“Don’t play dumb, bitch.” He was so angry that when he spoke, a slight bit of slobber came out of his mouth and went onto her blouse.

Unique glared straight into his eyes and spoke slowly. She wanted to be sure he comprehended. “Listen to me. It’s. Not. Fucking. Happening. You heard me? I repeat: Not. Fucking. Happening.”

He stepped toward her as if he was about to hit her, but she was quicker than him. She was prepared and showed him the business end of the pistol that she had tucked in her purse. “If you come near me again, I promise you on everything I love and hate, that I will kill your bitch ass.” She had tried to make it right, but all she got for her troubles were more troubles. No more. She was tired of being the nice bitch.

He searched her eyes, looking for a sign that she was bluffing. The anger and rage written all over her face combined with fire in her eyes, let him know that this wasn’t a poker game, and bluffing … she wasn’t.

One of the many extra security guards hired for the event noticed the commotion. He walked over and made his presence known. He was huge, six foot six and built like a truck. He asked, “Y’all good?” directing the question to the ladies. He was gritting on Fat Tee like he was itching for some reaction. Those two measly words spoke volumes.

Unique kept her eyes on Fat Tee, but said, “Yeah, we good.”

FADED TO BLACK

Since the Tabby was hosting a lot of the major events associated with the fight of the decade, Kennard booked in advance more than a hundred rooms for the week for his VIP friends and guests, including the Presidential Suite for himself and Unique.

While Kennard was running around doing a million things, Unique was relaxing under the masseuse-like pellets of hot water spraying from the hotel’s custom showerheads. She vacillated over whether or not she should come clean with Kennard about being accosted by Fat Tee yesterday. If she did, then she would have to tell Kennard about everything. But did she really want to open that can of worms? And hell, from the beginning God made it clear that man didn’t need to know everything.
So why should I play devil’s advocate and give Kennard a bite of the apple? Some things were just better left unknown.