One Toe Out (A Complicated Love Story) Read online




  One Toe Out

  by

  Desiree Day

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Desiree Day

  One Toe Out

  Copyright 2011 by Desiree Day

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  J’Twan, J.T. for short, Morrison, quarterback for the Atlanta Jaguars, sat across from Marcella Narozzi, his publicist. “This is fucked up. You know that don’t you?” she barked not pulling any punches.

  J.T. nodded. “I know.”

  “This is a public relations nightmare.” She sighed, then strolled over to the window and looked out over the skyline. The sun was just setting, casting a honeyed glow over the city. After twenty years in the business she had seen it all and had cleaned up more messes than a cleaning lady. No scandal or soon-to-be scandal was too big. Her biggest coup was creating a campaign that convinced the residents of a small town to drink the water after traces of pharmaceutical drugs were found in it. She polished tarnished images, she was the Spin Doctor. Marcella was the lady to go to when people needed things fixed and they paid her handsomely for it. She clasped her hands behind her back. “You know that I respect you?”

  “I do.”

  “And you know that I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

  He did, Marcella had been his publicist when he first signed to the NFL, he trusted her totally. “I do.”

  “And you know that I don’t give a fuck about your lifestyle don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  She turned away from the window. “But everybody isn’t as understanding as I am.”

  “I know, but—”

  She threw up her hand. “The video was pulled from boobtube.com and all the celebrity gossip websites, but naturally we can’t retrieve the video from the people who have it in their private mailboxes. I called Barry—”

  “Oh shit!” Barry Nevins was the owner of the Atlanta Jaguars.

  “I needed to go on the offense and not the defense, that’s one thing that I learned while representing athletes. I told him that it wasn’t you in the video,” Marcella reported in clipped tones.

  “And he believed you?” J.T. asked, his voice hopeful.

  Marcella shrugged. “He didn’t fire you,” she said dismissingly. “I think he was suspicious, but that’s all it is. And I don’t think that he wants to wrap his head around the fact that his one hundred million dollar quarterback might be gay.”

  “Did he see the video?” J.T. tentatively asked. Barry controlled his future in football, one word from him and his career would be over. J.T. didn’t want to do anything that would piss him off.

  A short thirty second video clip had leaked on the Internet showing him giving head to another man. Fortunately the amateur video wasn’t that great, so he wasn’t outed…this time. The lighting and sound quality was horrible; a college freshman film major could’ve done a better job.

  He had been feeling extra horny that night and had a friend of his arrange for a couple of men to get together. They had gotten a cheap motel room on Moreland Avenue, the type of place where occupants were quickly forgotten as soon as they paid the fifty dollars for their room. The group had spent the night drinking, smoking and popping pills and doing things to each other that left even him, an award winning quarterback, sore the next morning.

  At the time he didn’t know that he was being videotaped, after all the weed and alcohol he had consumed that night, they could’ve taken him to Piedmont Park, a popular gay hangout in Atlanta, and had him run around naked and he wouldn’t have protested.

  If it came out that J.T., the quarterback for the Atlanta Jaguars, was gay, it would ruin him.

  “What am I going to do?” he groaned. “It’s a sad thing that America won’t accept a gay quarterback. I’m a man who happens to love men, that doesn’t make me any less of a human being does it?” Every day he got the urge to run outside or go on TV and tell everybody that he was gay but he squashed the urge, knowing that the backlash would be horrible.

  Instead of answering his question, Marcella strolled over to her wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle. She handed it over to J.T. for him to uncork it. Marcella pulled out two wine glasses from her mini china cabinet and set them on her desk. As soon as J.T. filled them, she lifted hers. She brought the glass up to her nose and inhaled deeply, the aroma instantly calmed her. She sipped while J.T. nervously tapped his glass. “I’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  There was hope in Marcella’s voice and J.T. desperately reached for it. “Yeah?”

  “Find a wife,” she said.

  “What?” So shocked by her response, he nearly fell off the chair.

  “If you want to continue your lifestyle, you’ll get a wife, some young lady, not a celebrity, and she must not have any aspirations of being a celebrity. But a good hometown girl, who would be willing to sign a pre-nup and have a whirlwind romance. You two get married, you get her pregnant and you all live happily ever happy. Let her know what’s going on so that way she won’t be taken by surprise. You can continue dating men, but keep it quiet…very quiet.”

  J.T.’s head was swimming. “So we orchestrate this whole relationship? My marriage? A baby? Who would go along with this charade?”

  Marcella snapped her fingers. “I can instantly come up with twenty women who would gladly step into this situation and exploit it for the goldmine that it is. But you don’t want a gold digger, you don’t want a manipulator, you want someone sweet, someone pliable, and someone who needs you just as much as you need her.”

  He looked helplessly at her. “But I don’t know anybody like that.”

  “Sure you do. You just don’t know it. I’m sure once you start paying attention to the women around you, one will stand out.”

  “But what happens if I don’t find anybody?”

  She pointed a finger at him. “Then, I’ll find one for you,” she threatened.

  Chapter 2

  J.T. strolled into his favorite restaurant, Joe’s Burgers, it was a dive really, one that many people overlooked because of the exterior and location. But it was the only place in Atlanta that knew how to grill hamburgers. He had traveled all over the world and no other place had come close. It was one of the few places he could go where he wasn’t mobbed by fans or the paparazzi. He could eat in peace. All of the regulars respected him and if they had told anyone that he ate there, he never knew, because he always enjoyed the tranquility of Joe’s Burgers.

  “Hey J.T.” His favorite waitress Simone Saunders sauntered over to him. She had been working for the diner for a couple of years and she had always served him, treated him like a human being not a celebrity, and he like that about her. But her moods changed faster than a roller coaster at Six Flags. He could always tell her mood by the way she put his water on the table. If it sloshed over the rim of the glass and she didn’t apologize, just put her hand on her hip and glared at him, chances were somebody had done something to piss her off. But if she gave him a laminated menu, water with lemon and ice, along with his cutlery wrapped in a napkin, he was good to go.

  She was smiling when she placed the glass of iced water with the lemon wedge kissing the rim, on the table. Woo-hoo! She’s in a good mood. Simone handed him a laminated menu. “I don’t know why I’m giving this to you,” she joked. “You always order the same thing.”

  While, J.T. perused the menu, his mouth watering at the pictures of the burgers, Simo
ne placed his cutlery down. He didn’t know what Joe put in the burgers, but they were good enough to make him want to slap his mother. “Maybe I want something different.”

  “Yeah right,” she said, with a snort.

  J.T. laughed and Simone inhaled sharply and stared transfixed at him. He had the body that made her wet. J.T. was chocolate colored with just a smidgen of milk added, making his skin smooth and creamy. His eyes were almost black and sometimes there were days when he didn’t know she was looking at him, she saw pain in his eyes that flashed across his face which made him tighten his face into an ugly mask. Instead of asking if he was okay, she’d give him a slice of peach pie on the house.

  After she had started working at Joe’s he had come in, dressed real casual, in just a pair of sweats, T-shirt and a light jacket, but she had recognized him. He had that air about him, the same air that supermodels had, everything about them were effortlessly sophisticated and graceful. And that’s how it was with J.T. he wore his masculinity with ease. That first time she was so nervous taking his order that she almost dropped his order in his lap.

  J.T. handed her the menu. “Give me my regular and a Coke,” he said sheepishly.

  “Already got it written down,” she quipped then sauntered away.

  J.T. picked up his phone and began checking text messages. There were ten from Marcella wanting an update on his wife search. He shook his head and set the phone down, too scared to tell her that he didn’t have any prospects.

  Simone returned with his drink. “Thanks. So how have you been doing?”

  “Terrific. Hey, congrats on winning the Super Bowl. My mom and I were cheering for you. I was screaming so loud that I couldn’t talk for two days.” He held his hand out to show off his ring, the sun glinted off the diamonds. Simone grabbed his hand. “Oh wow, is this the ring?”

  “Yep!” he answered proudly, very much enamored with it. Not one to wear jewelry, at first it felt funny on his hand, he was still adjusting to it. The ring was a weighty reminder of all his hard work and accomplishments.

  “It’s beautiful,” Simone uttered reverently after having him hold his hand up and turning it this way and that. The ding of the bell announcing that J.T.’s burger was done had her running towards the counter for his food. J.T. watched her go, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  She placed the plate with a triple cheeseburger, loaded with bacon, special sauce, lettuce and tomatoes, and a generous helping of potato wedges in front of him and he nearly swooned. This is a man’s meal. And as soon as Simone stepped away after confirming that he was okay, he grabbed the hamburger with both hands and dove into it, he was halfway done with his burger when Simone returned with a fresh glass of Coke.

  “I’m assuming that everything is okay?”

  “Mmm,” he murmured, then motioned to the chair across from him and Simone arched a questioning eyebrow, but sat down anyway. It’s been a long time since J.T. had invited her to join him. It was mid-afternoon, right after the lunch rush and before the dinner crowd, so it wasn’t busy. Typically if someone wanted something they’d sit at the counter and Joe would take their order. “So how’s your family?” he asked as soon as he swallowed.

  “Great! Mom just got back from Biloxi, she and a couple of her girlfriends went to the casinos over spring break. And Lawrence is still the same,” she said, still sad by her brother’s situation. No matter how long it’s been, she knew that she would never get used to having her big brother locked up. A couple years ago, he had made a bad decision and decided to sell dope, which Simone or her Mom didn’t understand. He had a decent job at Target, and was married with two kids. He had gotten ten years in the pen. His wife eventually divorced him, and he hadn’t seen his kids since the iron gates closed after him.

  “How much longer does he have to go?” J.T. asked sympathetically. He had childhood friends locked up as well as a couple of family members, so he was very intimate with the shame of having a loved one locked up.

  “He said six, but he might get out sooner for good behavior.” She jutted her chin out and curled her hands into fists. “He’s not a criminal.”

  “I know. Just someone who made a made decision,” he said parroting her. She had said the same thing many times over. He never met Lawrence, but according to Simone he made a stupid mistake. He polished off his burger then focused on his potato wedges.

  He objectively studied Simone. Well, she is pretty and she’s not a celebrity. And I like talking to her. “Hey, have dinner with me tonight.”

  “What?”

  “Have dinner with me. I have a proposition for you,” he said mysteriously.

  Chapter 3

  Simone tugged at her dress. Joe had let her leave early to go shopping for something to wear to her dinner with J.T. She got lucky and found a dress for twenty dollars and a pair of twenty seven dollar shoes at Forever 21.

  She twirled in front of the full-length mirror that dangled from a nail on her bedroom wall. Every time she slammed her bedroom door, it swayed and she just knew that it was going to fall and break, giving her seven years of bad luck. But so far, it stayed up, providing her with many years of use.

  Simone stared at her reflection then pinched her cheeks, she was so pale. Her light skin coloring was the result of having a Black Mom and an Italian Dad. Her brother, Lawrence got the beautiful golden colored skin and blue eyes, while she got her father’s pale skin and long black glossy hair. She didn’t know where she got her height from, because both of her parents were tall. She was petite, at four eleven and shaped like an old-fashioned Coke bottle, she was always teased by men, saying that they could stick her in their pocket.

  Her mother was sitting on the bed watching her get ready. She was fiercely knitting, she was always making something. “It calms my nerves,” she had said and Simone understood, because she had started right after Lawrence was locked away. Over the years she had made several throws, pillows and scarves. By the soft and delicate yarn, Simone decided that she was making a spring sweater or maybe even a summer shrug.

  “Where are you going?” Lillian asked. “Got a date?”

  Simone shrugged. “I don’t know,” she answered, still perplexed by J.T.’s invitation.

  “You’re sure dressed like you’re going on one.” She had been watching her daughter get ready for dates ever since Simone had turned seventeen and was allowed to go out with boys. Since she didn’t have a best friend, Simone enjoyed having her mother there, besides she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “It’s with J.T.,” she revealed.

  The clinking from the knitting needles stopped. “J.T. the quarterback for the Atlanta Jaguars, J.T.?” she asked surprised.

  “Yeah, isn’t that weird?”

  “What’s so weird about it, you’re just as good as anybody else.”

  Simone smiled at her mother. She always had her back and always had something positive to say. Her positive attitude was instrumental in propelling her kindergarteners into a love of school. After twenty five years of teaching kindergarten, she was going strong.

  “Thanks Mom. It’s just weird that we’ve known each other for a while and we always had that waitress customer vibe going on, nothing more. So I don’t think that this is a love connection, especially since he said that he had a proposition for me.”

  “Really? That sounds intriguing.”

  “I know. I want to hear what he has to say.”

  Promptly at eight o’clock their doorbell rang. And Simone raced to get it. She had wanted to meet him at the restaurant, but he had insisted on picking her up.

  He seemed to fill up their small two-bedroom ranch house. He was casually dressed in a pair of dress pants and a shirt. And he smelled good an expensive scent that she was sure wasn’t sitting on the counter of any department store.

  He held a bouquet of a dozen long stemmed red roses and Simone reached for them, but J.T. fooled her, he bypassed her and handed them to her mother. Simone’s disappointment was quickly e
rased when she saw her mother’s reaction. She stared at them in shock. No one had ever given her roses in her life.

  “Thank you,” she uttered, then, “I don’t even think I have a vase.”

  “Don’t worry about it Mom, stick them in a glass pitcher, they’ll look just as pretty.”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea sweetie, I’ll do that.”

  Simone kissed her mom on the cheek. “Don’t wait up,” she whispered in her ear. Lillian squeezed her daughter tightly before letting go.

  “I’ll take care of her,” J.T. said before taking Simone’s elbow and guiding her out the door.

  Lillian stood at the front door and watched the superstar quarterback help her daughter into a black stretch limo. Many of her neighbors had come out on their porches to see the vehicle. Fortunately, J.T. was in and out the house so fast that no one recognized him. “So what do you have planned for my little girl?” Lillian muttered as the limo made its way down the street.

  Chapter 4

  “You look nice.” She was exactly what Marcella ordered. She was pretty, but with a little help, she could be a knock out.

  “Thanks,” Simone said nervously then stared around the restaurant, several pairs of eyes looked right back at her. She shyly ducked her head. “This is very unnerving,” she admitted.

  “What’s wrong? Am I doing something wrong?” he asked, he didn’t want to do anything that made her feel uncomfortable, especially with what he had to ask her.

  “Not you…them.” She jutted her chin towards J.T.’s admirers.

  J.T. understood. “I’m sorry, I’m so used to it that I block it out. Would you like to get a more private booth?”

  Simone hesitated, then shook her head. “No thanks, that’s okay. It’s uncomfortable, but I’ll deal with it. I guess that’s the price you have to pay for being a superstar, huh? You can’t run from it, right?”