I'm betting a lot on Gryphon’s innocence and Sabrina’s guilt, and it could cost me my job. But the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that he’s telling the truth. My mind is churning. I have to prove his innocence. And not only for him, but for myself. If I am falling in love with him, I need to know I’m safe before it’s too late.
Sabrina Forbes prefers to settle out of court. She doesn’t want justice, she is just looking for a big payout. Another point against her. If she really wanted justice and to be safe, she’d be trying to get him in jail tomorrow. But this is nothing more than a money grab against someone who would be her meal ticket: a rich sports star.
In any case, while my mind is working overtime, nothing sounds better than some stress relief: relaxing with my girl Sandra over some fat burritos.
I slide into my side of the booth.
“I ordered us Margaritas,” Sandra grins. She’s looking happy and relaxed. I’m a bit jealous, but at least she wants to take me along on her good time.
“Are you serious?” I laugh. “I'm was planning to go back to work today, and Carlton is already on my ass!”
“Carlton?” she scoffs. “That blowhard. Never mind him.”
“Sure but he does have the power to make my life miserable...” I mutter.
“Only if you let him!” She points her finger in my face. “Never let a man like that forget who you are. For real, girl, you have more power than you think. You're a leader, a partner. Don't be intimidated by him.”
“I guess. But he’s been there a lot longer than I have. So long that he’s practically a dinosaur. At least in terms of his views on women,” I say. The waitress puts down a sizable Margarita in front of me. It's icy, and dripping. It looks delicious. We raise our glasses, and Sandra clinks mine with hers. “Bottoms up!” She grins.
The cool liquid sliding down my throat feels great, but it hits me fast and I know that I won’t be making it back into work.
“A lot of these good ol' boys are total sexists,” she smiles knowingly. “They grew up in the past, and soon they’ll be ancient history. The future is ours, girl,” she nods.
“Yeah, I hope you're right. Right now my future is hanging in the balance.” I play with my garnish, picturing Griff and I on one side, happy together, and on the other, me getting fired. When I look up, Sandra is looking at me intently.
“Yeah, you’ll make it through, Odell. I believe in you. You’ve faced a bunch challenges head on, and you almost always come out on top. By the way, how is that first case going?” she asks, as she plays with her straw. “Who did the huge star turn out to be, the one that you're trying to get off?”
I blush furiously. “Oh my God, I haven’t even told you yet! You're never going to believe this,” I begin. Her eyes get as wide as saucers as I recount the whole story of how my first case is also my first sex partner in ages, the guy I picked up with her at the bar, and by the end she’s laughing so much that she almost falls out of her seat.
“Only you, Odell,” she says, when she finally gets a hold of herself. “Only you would be in this position!”
“Tell me about it,” I smile grimly. “And with the way things are going, it's either going to make or break me at this firm.”
“I told you, you should have gotten this guy's number for some regular action. I wasn’t thinking for evidence!”
“I know it.” I sit back. “How the hell does something like that happen?”
“So have you seen him again?” she asks. “Like, how do I say this in polite company—socially?” Her eyes dance, but they search mine, and I know there's no use to lie. I can’t fool my best friend.
“Yes,” I concede. “Actually I have.” Her eyes widen. She wants details. “A few times. And I'm pretty certain that he's innocent of his charges.”
“Wow, what a mess. If he’s innocent, that’s good… but are you sure that's not just the sex talking?” she queries me suspiciously.
“Honestly? No,” I admit. “But I'm going to find out for certain.” I cast my eyes down, feeling a little shy about just how good the sex has been. “I’ve hired a private eye, and I'm going to find out everything there is to know about Gryphon James, his accuser ex, and their relationship.”
“Good for you. Take matters into your own hands, girl,” she says. “Be the person who knows the most about the whole situation, and you can't ever be wrong.”
I nod. Sandra is wise. “So how 'bout you, any new men in your life?”
“Well as a matter of fact,” she smiles. “I did go out with somebody.”
“Oh is that right?”
“He's a lawyer—well he's a paralegal. He's studying to be a lawyer,” she says. Now it's her turn to blush. “It’s not serious, but maybe he has potential. I guess. We’ll see.”
“Are you cradle-robbing, Sandra?” I tease, taking another sip of my drink.
She giggles. It's nice for a moment to have the attention off of me for a change. I’ll try to relax for the time being: Kent can learn and report all the information about my case, and I can listen to Sandra tell me all about her younger man over some sweet margaritas.
“It probably won’t go anywhere, but he has the most dreamy eyes,” she begins, and I relax for the first time in a while. Out of bed, at least.
11
Gryphon
The team runs around the pylons again. I’m just not satisfied with their agility. I’ve got them practicing every day on it, but nothing seems to make them any better. Coach is on my ass again about everyone’s performance now, and I’m tearing out my hair. He’s left them to me for the day and he wants to see some progress.
“Better, Griff?” asks Drake. “Faster?”
I look at my stopwatch. “No, man, not better. In fact, three seconds worse.”
“Dammit!” he says. “I’ll set up the pylons again. I nod, but the method’s just not working. I’m at a loss.
Our linebacker goes through the sequence, and I time him. Again, it’s worse. I’ve already yelled, I’ve pleaded, I’ve cajoled, I’ve threatened.
“Hey is that your girlfriend?” says Ray, the Defensive Lineman, pointing to the stands, and I see Odell. She’s graceful, dressed in a way that hugs her sweet curves. Coach isn’t here, so I jog over and give her a kiss.
“Odell! What are you doing here? Everything all right?” I ask. “Is it something about the case?”
“Oh, no, Griff, nothing like that,” she answers softly, but her smile is wide. “I just wanted to see you. I didn’t want to get in the way, you should go on with your practice.”
“Yeah, it’s not going very well,” I say with a grimace, raking a hand through my hair. “These guys are just not picking up their feet.”
“Yeah, I saw that,” she agrees. “You know, there’s a great ballet move that would probably help them. You should get a ballet coach in here.”
“Oh yeah?” I’m skeptical, but at the same time, nobody is a precision athlete like a dancer. “You think you could do it?”
“It’s been ages since I did any real dancing,” she demurs. “But it would do the trick, I’m almost certain,” she nods to herself.
“Why not give it a try?” I ask, and open the door to the field. “Here, jump down,” I take her hand, hers small in mine, and her eyes are shining.
“Are you serious, Griff?”
“Why not?” Anything would help right now. I just have to shock these guys out of their complacency.
“If you mean it,” she says, stepping down onto the turf. “Are you sure?” I swear, I see a hint of rosy pink growing on her mocha cheeks.
“Damn sure, we need all the help we can get.” I jog back to the field, and all the guys watch her sexy walk to the middle.
“Bring it in boys, we have a new coach in town today.” Drake gives a long low whistle, and I glare at him. “Knock it off buddy,” I growl.
“Sorry, she’s just fine, that’s all,” he says with a shrug.
“She’s not just fine, she’s mine,” I answer, and he grins. “Ok y’all, this is Odell!” I shout. “She’s going to lead you through some ballet drills.”
“Ballet?” I hear. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “Has Gryphon gone crazy?”
Odell stands in front of the team, her face clear and confident. “Hey everyone,” she smiles, and they look at her expectantly. She takes off her heels. “I’m going to take you through some old drills I learned as a young girl in the ballet studio,” she continues, and I hear someone scoff. “Don’t laugh,” she smiles. “They’re not easy.”
She stands with her arms above her head. “Follow me please,” she says, and soon her natural authority wins over one player after another. I stand at the side, marveling over what she’s been able to accomplish in just a few short minutes. They might not look like ballerinas, but my team is going through the positions she’s showing them, and groaning with the effort. “Gryphon,” she says, shooting me a look. “Don’t think you’re going to get out of this! Get up here!”