to put you through,” I said.
“That’s
if I
call. Don’t hold your breath,” Yancey said as she slammed down the phone.
• • •
I ’d just finished an intensive staff meeting, when Kendra walked into my office and said, “There’s a Bart Dunbar on the phone. He says it’s real important, and it’s the fourth time he’s called in the last two days.”
“Thanks, Kendra, ask him to hold on,” I said as I looked at the clock and realized that it was almost 7:30 P.M . Brison, Nico and I were trying to decide what to do about an offer made by PMK to purchase XJI. PMK was the largest sports management company in the USA. The financial package would make the three of us independently wealthy. Nico was in favor of selling, while Brison and I were wavering because we thought it would set a bad example if we sold out to the big boys just when we were making a dent in their business. PMK was offering us executive positions and we’d be able to keep our individual clients, but the thought of working for somebody just didn’t sit well with Brison and me. We thought we’d left those days behind when we left professional sports.
Before I picked up the phone, I made sure my door was locked. I was a little pissed off that Bart was calling my office like some teenage girl enjoying her first major crush. I had the feeling this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, but I had to get this shit over with.
“Whatsup, dude?”
“You’re not trying to slip away, are you?” Bart asked. Asfar as I was concerned, homeboy had just crossed the invisible line I had warned him about after our first meeting. I didn’t date men, and I certainly didn’t like them calling my office during the day to chitchat.
“Dude, I can’t talk right now. Let me get back to you,” I said.
“But what about our plans?”
“Plans? What plans?”
“I got tickets for us to see
The Lion King
. I wanted to surprise you.”
“Bart, I don’t like surprises.”
“Didn’t you get the messages I left for you at your house?”
“I haven’t been checking my messages. I’ve been tied up.”
“I’d like to tie you up,” Bart teased. There he was, crossing the line again.
“Bart, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make it. I have other plans,” I said, suddenly feeling like letting Bart sample the beef could have been one of my biggest mistakes of the new millennium.
“Other plans that don’t include me? You
are
trying to get away. Now, don’t make me put you in a headlock, and you can take that any way you want to,” Bart said in a playful tone.
“I’m sure you’ve got some other friends that would enjoy the show, and I’ll pay for the ticket,” I said.
“It’s not about the money. It’s about our debut,” Bart said.
“Debut?”
“Yeah, as a couple,” Bart said.
“Dude, how can I get this through your head?” I said ina low, hushed tone. “We had a good time, but I told you I don’t date hardheads.”
“Yeah, I know, but I was hoping I could change your mind,” Bart said.
“Bart, look, I need to run. I’ll hit you back later,” I said as I got off the phone quickly. After that conversation, I needed to hit the gym and work out some of my tension, then go and find me some new pussy.
Other Divas and CP Time
I had been rehearsing for a couple of hours for my performance at the Roxy when one of the backup singers got on my last nerve. Paul Ellis, the musical director hired by Motown, had hired three backup singers for my act, two females and one male. The male singer, Guy, a decent-looking brother with a honey-smooth tenor voice, and Terri, the regulation backup big mama with her gospel sound, were just fine. But this skinny bitch named Dove, with holes in almost every part of her body, was giving me fits. First of all, I wanted to ask her why her mother named her after a bar of soap, but I had more pressing issues on my mind.
Every time I was getting my groove on with my songs,
“That’s
if I
call. Don’t hold your breath,” Yancey said as she slammed down the phone.
• • •
I ’d just finished an intensive staff meeting, when Kendra walked into my office and said, “There’s a Bart Dunbar on the phone. He says it’s real important, and it’s the fourth time he’s called in the last two days.”
“Thanks, Kendra, ask him to hold on,” I said as I looked at the clock and realized that it was almost 7:30 P.M . Brison, Nico and I were trying to decide what to do about an offer made by PMK to purchase XJI. PMK was the largest sports management company in the USA. The financial package would make the three of us independently wealthy. Nico was in favor of selling, while Brison and I were wavering because we thought it would set a bad example if we sold out to the big boys just when we were making a dent in their business. PMK was offering us executive positions and we’d be able to keep our individual clients, but the thought of working for somebody just didn’t sit well with Brison and me. We thought we’d left those days behind when we left professional sports.
Before I picked up the phone, I made sure my door was locked. I was a little pissed off that Bart was calling my office like some teenage girl enjoying her first major crush. I had the feeling this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, but I had to get this shit over with.
“Whatsup, dude?”
“You’re not trying to slip away, are you?” Bart asked. Asfar as I was concerned, homeboy had just crossed the invisible line I had warned him about after our first meeting. I didn’t date men, and I certainly didn’t like them calling my office during the day to chitchat.
“Dude, I can’t talk right now. Let me get back to you,” I said.
“But what about our plans?”
“Plans? What plans?”
“I got tickets for us to see
The Lion King
. I wanted to surprise you.”
“Bart, I don’t like surprises.”
“Didn’t you get the messages I left for you at your house?”
“I haven’t been checking my messages. I’ve been tied up.”
“I’d like to tie you up,” Bart teased. There he was, crossing the line again.
“Bart, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make it. I have other plans,” I said, suddenly feeling like letting Bart sample the beef could have been one of my biggest mistakes of the new millennium.
“Other plans that don’t include me? You
are
trying to get away. Now, don’t make me put you in a headlock, and you can take that any way you want to,” Bart said in a playful tone.
“I’m sure you’ve got some other friends that would enjoy the show, and I’ll pay for the ticket,” I said.
“It’s not about the money. It’s about our debut,” Bart said.
“Debut?”
“Yeah, as a couple,” Bart said.
“Dude, how can I get this through your head?” I said ina low, hushed tone. “We had a good time, but I told you I don’t date hardheads.”
“Yeah, I know, but I was hoping I could change your mind,” Bart said.
“Bart, look, I need to run. I’ll hit you back later,” I said as I got off the phone quickly. After that conversation, I needed to hit the gym and work out some of my tension, then go and find me some new pussy.
Other Divas and CP Time
I had been rehearsing for a couple of hours for my performance at the Roxy when one of the backup singers got on my last nerve. Paul Ellis, the musical director hired by Motown, had hired three backup singers for my act, two females and one male. The male singer, Guy, a decent-looking brother with a honey-smooth tenor voice, and Terri, the regulation backup big mama with her gospel sound, were just fine. But this skinny bitch named Dove, with holes in almost every part of her body, was giving me fits. First of all, I wanted to ask her why her mother named her after a bar of soap, but I had more pressing issues on my mind.
Every time I was getting my groove on with my songs,
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