Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [48]
“Okay, son. Take care of yourself. Watch out for those women after yo money and your honey,” Pops said.
I smiled at myself when I heard Pops say “honey,” his term for male semen, and said, “I’ll protect them both, Pops. I’ll call you in a couple days.”
“Take your time. I’ll be here.”
“You know I love ya, Pops.”
“Yeah, I know,” Pops said before hanging up.
I leaned back in my chair, savoring my relationship with and love for my Pops, when Kendra buzzed me and said she had a quick errand to run and that the phones would be unattended.
I clicked on the University of Miami football Web site to see what was going on with upcoming spring football, since I was intent on signing some more players from my alma mater. The Net had made getting information and statistics so much easier, and I printed out bios on several of the players I thought were definite pro prospects. I was making my way to the Florida State Web site when my phone rang.
“Basil Henderson,” I said.
“Basil, this is Bart.”
I silently mouthed “damn” to myself, then said quickly, “Bart, I’m real busy.” I’d given Kendra explicit instructions to tell him I was out of the office if he called again, and now I’d gone and got caught. Kendra had told me Bart had shown up at my office a couple of days before, asking about the modeling job, but said he raced out once Nico walked into the office. What was that about?
“I need to speak to you.”
“Look, man, what don’t you understand? First thing, stay away from my office. We had a good time, but that’s all it was, a good time,” I said. I couldn’t believe I was having this type of conversation with a dude. Men, even gay men, knew how to separate love and sex, even if women couldn’t. Well, maybe Yancey could, but she certainly wasn’t your average female.
“So that’s all I was, a good time?” Bart asked.
“We hit it a couple of times. That’s it. From the beginning, I told you point-blank I don’t date dudes.”
“Then what about the modeling job?”
“What about it?”
“Am I going to get it?”
“I told you that’s out of my hands,” I said.
“So I was just a free fuck. You like messing with people’s lives, don’t you?” Bart responded sharply.
“Call it what you want.”
“You said you loved me. How could you play me like that?”
What was this mofo talking about? I just shook my head and started focusing on some papers on my desk. I figured if I let Bart get out all of his emotional bullshit he would leave me the fuck alone.
“Are you still there?” he yelled.
“Look, mofo, don’t holler at me. I never said I loved you. Damn, I don’t even know you.”
“The last time we were together you said it’s ‘all love.’” “Dude, that’s a brotherman greeting. But I don’t guess you would know that, since you seem knee-deep in being gay.”
“So you don’t think you’re gay?”
“Fuck no,” I said, wondering why I dignified his question with a response. I couldn’t figure out why I was still on the phone with this unbalanced mofo.
“Then you’re either stupid or lying to yourself. Men like you are the ones who are an …”
I didn’t allow Bart to finish his little tirade. I hung up the phone.
Lines from LaVonya
I dropped my backpack on my small kitchen counter, grabbed the phone and punched the speed dial to Wylie’s office. I needed to piss, but speaking with Wylie was more important. He picked up after the first ring.
“This is Wylie.”
“Wylie! I need you to do something for me,” I said in a rushed voice. I was still fuming from my phone call with Basil, and I wasn’t about to tell Wylie how he’d talked to me on the phone.
“What’s the matter with you? It sounds like you been running.”
“I was on the train coming back from a fitting for Yancey B’s video, and I thought of a way to get back at that fuckin’ Basil,” I said.
“Honey, you need to just let that man be. He told you he was stray from the jump.”
“Yeah, that’s what you would do, but I’m gonna teach these so-called strays they can’t play me like I’m some kind of drum. And I do know him from somewhere. I need LaVonya’s number.”
“Why?”
“I want to take her out for a drink.”
“I thought you