Passion Overtime Read online

Page 19


  Her boyfriend’s face rose in her mind, and her heart surged with love. Terrence had become a permanent fixture at Hollington since the reunion and when they weren’t meeting for brunch or strolling around the campus, they were at home, planning their first vacation together and making love.

  In honor of their two-month anniversary, Terrence had surprised her with a romantic dinner at home. They’d had a great meal, with good wine, conversation and deep, rousing kisses. The sensual feel of his voice quickly put her in the mood, and when he scooped her up and strode down the hall, Kyra felt breathless with anticipation. For her pleasure, he’d dressed the king-sized bed in burgundy satin sheets and filled the room with more candles than a Vatican church. Ne-Yo was playing on the stereo, sharing his sexy, soothing voice. Kissing, they stroked and fondled each other as they quickly shed their clothes. Then, the next thing she knew, they were on the floor, naked, making love in the middle of the rug like they had ten years ago.

  “I hope we’re going for drinks after this,” Shaunice said, plunking down beside her. “You don’t have plans with Terrence tonight, do you?”

  “No, his cousins are taking him to a basketball game. Where do you want to eat?”

  “It doesn’t matter, as long as we don’t have to wait in a long line.”

  Kyra pulled her hands out of the dryer and checked her flaming-red nails. Pleased, she reached into her purse for her wallet.

  “Aimee called me last night.”

  Head bent, she continued rummaging around in her bag. Maybe if she pretended not to hear Shaunice, her friend would get bored and move on to something else.

  “She said Terrence came on to her,” Shaunice reported, one eyebrow raised. “I’m not trying to take sides, but are you sure about what you saw? Maybe it just looked like Aimee was touching him…”

  Kyra checked her reaction. It wasn’t Shaunice’s fault that Aimee was a liar. Squeezing her lips together to keep from cursing, she sat upright, facing her girlfriend. Aimee’s version of events had more holes in it than fishnet stockings, but hearing Shaunice defend her made Kyra angry enough to scream. “Why are you taking up for Aimee? I thought you didn’t like her.”

  “You’re right, I don’t, but you do, and I’d hate for your friendship to end over a misunderstanding. Men come and go, but girlfriends are forever.”

  “A misunderstanding?” Her high-pitched voice rose above the raucous chatter in the nail salon. “I know what I saw. She badmouthed me in my own house and threw herself at my boyfriend!”

  “Things aren’t always what they seem, Kyra. How do you—”

  “What’s that’s supposed to mean? You think I imagined the whole thing?”

  They fell into silence. After several minutes, Shaunice spoke.

  “We’ve been friends for years, but you never once mentioned being engaged to Terrence Franklin. How come? I had no clue he was your old college sweetheart until Aimee told me.”

  “It was a long time ago, and I didn’t say anything because I was embarrassed about how things ended. I moved on and never looked back.”

  “I know, but you still should have said something. I hate being kept in the dark,” she protested. “And if I had known Terrence was your one true love, I wouldn’t have told him about all the brothers in your little black book!”

  The women chortled.

  “I thought all that drama with Aimee would have put a strain on your relationship, but I can tell by the way you sashayed up in here that the fire’s burning hotter than ever!”

  “Shaunice, things are so much better this time around. There’s no drama in our relationship, just love.” Kyra knew she was gushing, knew she sounded sappier than a card commercial, but whenever she thought about Terrence, her heart went soft. “We have fun together, and I couldn’t have asked for a more loving man.”

  “It’s great to see you so happy, Ky. After all you guys have been through, you deserve a happy ending.” Shaunice leaned over and hugged her. Straightening, her eyes bright with humor, she asked, “So, do you get a bonus for signing Terrence?”

  Kyra cleared her throat. “I don’t think so, but I’ll let you know for sure once I turn in the contracts.”

  “I still can’t believe you pulled it off. Getting Terrence to sign on with the Lions was a tall order, and to be honest, I didn’t think you could do it.”

  “You should know by now not to underestimate me. I always get the job done!” Laughing, she rose from her chair. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. I’ll meet you out front.”

  Kyra smiled, but she felt like a fraud. Why had she lied to Shaunice about signing Terrence? The deadline Mr. Morrow had given her was tomorrow, and Terrence still hadn’t given her an answer.

  After using the bathroom, Kyra washed her hands. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she wondered what more she could do to persuade Terrence to sign on to coach the Lions. He’d had more than enough time to make a decision, so what was he waiting for? Kyra’s thoughts couldn’t be controlled, and soon her mind was overrun with questions. Had Terrence decided not to take the job? Was he trying to find a way to break the news to her?

  Remembering Shaunice was waiting, she exited the washroom and strode back through the salon. Still thinking about Terrence, she searched for her umbrella in her purse. Terrence was taking her out on Saturday night, and before the night was over, Kyra was going to find out what decisions he’d made for the future. Relationship aside, she had a job to do and, like Shaunice had so aptly pointed out, she had to deliver.

  Chapter 22

  On Friday morning, Kyra strolled through the student center. Oblivious to the sounds around her, she slipped off her tweed coat and draped it over her right arm. Her thoughts were on Terrence, and as images of their late-night tryst in the back row of the IMAX theater surfaced, a smile filled her lips.

  Exhausted, she patted back a yawn. As she passed the faculty dining room, she noticed the sideway glances her colleagues were shooting her way. Worried she’d had a wardrobe malfunction, Kyra glanced down at her suit. Toilet paper wasn’t stuck to her shoes, her skirt wasn’t jammed into her panty hose and she didn’t have coffee stains on her blouse, so what was everyone looking at?

  When Kyra stepped off the elevator unto the second floor, Nikki leaped to her feet, hustled around her desk and put an arm around her. Features touched with concern, she wore a tight sympathetic smile. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know, I just thought you’d be upset about the article in the Daily.”

  “What are you talking about, Nikki? What article?”

  “Why don’t you go get settled in your office and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee?”

  By the time Kyra hung up her coat, Nikki was inside the room, handing her a white coffee mug. Clutching the newspaper to her chest, she lowered herself onto one of the padded chairs. “Before I show you the paper, let me just say that you and Terrence are a great couple. He loves you, Kyra, and I know that—”

  Kyra stuck out her hand. “Give me the paper, Nikki, then get back out front before Mr. Morrow catches you socializing,” she teased.

  “He’s out of town, remember? Won’t be back from Seattle until Friday.”

  “I almost forgot he was attending the Leadership for the Future Conference. It’s going to be quiet around here for once, huh?”

  Quiet, the expression on her face one of concern, Nikki reluctantly handed over the newspaper. “If you need anything, or just want to talk, I’m here.”

  Puzzled, she watched Nikki’s hurried departure. What had gotten into everyone? Unless…had Terrence made a decision about the head coaching position and given the Atlanta Daily World the scoop? Kyra glanced down at the newspaper and cupped a hand over her mouth. Eyes wide, heart racing erratically, she choked down a mouthful of tears. The longer she stared at the bold, black headline, the harder it was to breathe. Ex-Football Star Named In Paternity Suit! Underneath the caption was a fu
ll-length photo of Terrence and a voluptuous Latin woman kissing outside of an L.A. nightclub.

  Her legs caved and she slumped into her chair like dead weight. Grabbing ahold of her emotions, she smoothed a hand over her cheeks and sat upright in her chair. Shaking off feelings of despair, she studied the eight-by-eleven picture intently.

  It felt as if someone was grabbing her throat. Gripping the newspaper, she perused the cover story, pouring over every scandalous word in the front-page article. According to an unidentified source, Terrence had hooked up with the former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader last year and after the baby’s birth promptly skipped town. So that’s the real reason he came to Hollington? To escape his baby mama?

  Her mind was spinning, turning, analyzing every facet of their relationship, searching for clues pointing to this. But there weren’t any. Terrence made her feel understood and, most importantly, worthy of his love. It was a powerful feeling, one she’d never experienced, one that overwhelmed her at times to the point of tears.

  Water filled her eyes, blurring her vision, and clogging her throat. Facing the computer screen, her hands shaking uncontrollably, she punched in her password and logged on to the Internet. When Terrence’s picture popped up, Kyra thought she was going to hurl. How had this gotten out so fast? There were more pictures, more videos and dozens of stories dating back to his rookie season. Kyra understood the boys-will-be-boys mentality, but there was no excuse for consorting with strippers and then posting the outrageous video online. And when she saw the date the pictures of his trip to Rio had been posted, her heart rate spiked. Three weeks before he’d returned to Hollington.

  As she watched various news bites, she found herself ingesting every shocking word. Pressing her eyes shut to ward off tears, she ignored the relentless peal of her cell phone and concentrated on her breathing. She’d known from the beginning that Terrence was too good to be true, so why hadn’t she listened to her intuition? Could she have been wrong about Aimee, too? Maybe Terrence had propositioned her in the kitchen.

  Kyra needed a moment to think. Propping her elbows up on the desk, she massaged her temples. Replaying last Sunday in her mind, she ignored the crippling pain spreading from her head to her heart. Anger flared in Kyra’s stomach. No, she knew what she saw. Terrence might be keeping secrets, but he hadn’t made a play for her ex-friend.

  The telephone buzzed. Knowing she couldn’t hide out in her office for the rest of the day, she opened her eyes and cleaned the tears from her face. Kyra exhaled, turned away from the computer screen and readied herself for the media onslaught. “Good morning. Ms. Dixon speaking.”

  “Have you seen this morning’s newspaper?”

  “Yes, Mr. Morrow, I have.”

  “This couldn’t have happened at a worst time. The Lions are playing on Sunday in the biggest game of the year.” He sounded agitated, and she could hear the sports channel theme music in the background. “Kyra, what are we going to do to fix this mess?”

  “Nothing. Terrence’s personal life is none of our business and—”

  “Like hell it isn’t!” he exploded. “I’ve been fielding calls from outraged parents, board members and alumni who feel this story is casting a negative light on our fine school. If it were up to me, I’d toss him out on his ear. “

  “Sir, with all due respect, I think that would be a mistake. I still believe Terrence Franklin is the right man for the job. You’ve been saying as much for the last eight weeks,” she pointed out. “The story will die down in a couple days and life will return to normal.” But even as Kyra said it, she knew it wasn’t true.

  “How do we know he doesn’t have a whole fleet of baby mamas out there? It’s not like we did a background check on him. The guy could have a drug problem or outstanding gambling debts for all we know. I don’t put anything past these athletes. They have absolutely no morals and think they’re…”

  Kyra tuned out. She didn’t want to hear this. Not now, not ever. Not when she was torn up inside, and battling a headache strong enough to knock her flat on her back. Mr. Morrow didn’t understand. Terrence had changed drastically since leaving the NFL. He didn’t party anymore and always kept his promises. The energy between them was electric, and their lovemaking was a sensual, passionate experience.

  But what Kyra loved most was that he was committed to their relationship. He put her first and didn’t allow anyone—not his boys, not his manager or other women—come between them.

  “As of today, Terrence is no longer welcome on campus, and I don’t want him to practice with the Lions, either.”

  “Mr. Morrow, I can’t enforce that.”

  “You can and you will.” His voice grew louder. “This isn’t up for discussion, Ms. Dixon. You might be the PR director, but I’m the one who makes the final decisions around here. Keep that man off of my campus. Have I made myself clear?”

  Trembling uncontrollably, Kyra lowered her head, dropping her face into her clammy hands. I can’t believe this is happening. What am I supposed to do to fix this? Mr. Morrow’s words reverberated in her ears. How could she distance herself from the man she loved? The man she wanted to marry and start a family with? It was a heart-wrenching decision to make, one that she didn’t want to make, but one that she couldn’t afford to put off. It had to be done. If she wanted to keep her job, and her heart intact, she had to distance herself from Terrence permanently.

  Terrence lurked in the darkness, waiting for Kyra to get out of her car. Hiding in the bushes outside of her house was a harebrained idea, but she’d left him no other choice. Kyra had ignored his e-mails, text messages and all of the voice mails he’d left for her throughout the day. At his breaking point, he’d called the public relations department and demanded to speak to her, but after ten minutes on hold the line had disconnected. Kyra was going to hear him out, tonight, even if he had to kidnap her.

  Stars glittered in the night sky and the moon shed a soft glow over the quiet street. Terrence heard a car door slam, and peered through the branches. Kyra’s fragrance perfumed the air, rousing his memories of happier times, of brighter days, of all the moments they’d spent talking, laughing and loving each other.

  Yesterday, while he was shaving, she’d sauntered into the bathroom, kissed him passionately and dropped her purple, satin robe. They’d made love well into the night, and after, she’d given him a slow rubdown that put him to sleep.

  His head was pounding and it felt as if a tennis ball were jammed in his throat, but Terrence would sooner choke to death than have Kyra think he’d betrayed her.

  High heels pounded the pavement. Not wanting to startle her, he came from around the side of the house. He called to her, but she looked right through him. Dumbstruck, he watched as she strode past him as if he were an invisible man and marched up the steps.

  “Kyra, I’ve been calling you all day, but you didn’t answer your phone.”

  To block her path, he slid in front of the door. Kyra stared up at him and what Terrence saw in her eyes made his blood run cold. She shot him a hostile glare. One so cold and malevolent he had to look away. “Are you all right?”

  She tightened her grip on her purse and for a moment, Terrence feared she was going to wallop him with the black designer handbag. “Get out of my way.”

  “You’re not going to give me a chance to explain?”

  Lips pursed tight, she rolled her eyes skyward. “No, Terrence, you don’t deserve one. You’re a liar and I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

  “We need to talk, Kyra. Let’s go inside and work this thing out.”

  She shivered in the cool night air and her cheeks were flushed from the cold, but she ignored his suggestion. “Going into the living room isn’t going to make this any easier.”

  “I know,” he agreed, “but I’d rather not discuss this out here.”

  “I don’t care what you want.”

  “This is silly. You’re freezing and—”

  “You’ve been lying to me for the l
ast two months and you have the nerve to make demands?” The harshness of her tone startled him. “All you’ve ever cared about is yourself. Today was one of the worst days of my life and all you can think about is what you want. I’ve been fielding calls from the media, and my friends and family since nine o’clock this morning. Do you have any idea how humiliated I felt when President Morrow called me about the paternity story?”

  “Kyra, I didn’t lie to you. I don’t care what’s in the newspapers. I’ve been up-front with you from day one, so don’t make me out to be the villain in this.” Angry at himself for raising his voice, he took a moment to regroup. “The media isn’t reporting the whole story. Just the parts they think are entertaining.”

  “Who is she?”

  In the untoward silence, he took a good hard look at her. Kyra dazzled in a fitted red suit and her soft, natural-looking makeup was flawless, but he could see the tracks of her tears. Her eyes were lined with sadness, and she was twisting the leather off her purse strap, obviously battling a case of the nerves.

  “Terrence, tell me who she is.” Her voice cracked, but she quickly recovered. “Is she a groupie? Someone you screwed at the back of an L.A. nightclub?”

  “No, I met Lourdes at a health food store.” Terrence smoothed a hand over the back of his neck. “Within weeks, she quit her job and moved in with me. Things were fine until I got hurt. She couldn’t deal and left. End of story.”

  “She left because you couldn’t play football anymore?”

  “Lourdes got accustomed to living the good life and didn’t want to stay home taking care of me. Three months after I announced my retirement, she hooked up with a pro basketball rookie and moved to Miami. Now, she’s popped up out of the blue claiming that I’m her son’s father.”