Basketball Jones by E. Lynn Harris Read Free Book Online Page A

I said, feeling I was about to let down my mother and my sister too. “Let me get on the computer and check the airlines.” I resigned myself to the fact that I was on my way to Los Angeles, and it really didn’t matter to Dray how much I wanted to see my family.
    “Call me before you take off.”
    “Will do.”
    I clicked off the phone and put the other one with my mother to my ear.
    “Sorry, Mama.”
    “Is everything all right?”
    “Sure. But it looks like I won’t be able to make it this weekend.”
    “Why?” she asked, the disappointment clear in her voice.
    “One of my clients needs me to fly to Los Angeles to check on some furniture. Duty calls,” I said, hating that I was lying to my mother.
    “Well, maybe next week. I’ll tape Bella’s performance. AJ, Bella is really getting good with this dancing. She is thinking about running in that teen pageant, and if she does you can’t miss that,” Mama said. “She’ll never forgive you if you don’t show up for that.”
    “I will. Got to run, Mama. I love you.”
    “Love you too, baby. Don’t work too hard.”

Five
    A little after two A.M. I arrived at LAX. I hadn’t checked my luggage, so I went straight to the limo section and saw a big, buff blond guy with sunglasses holding up a sign with my last name on it. When I walked up to him and told him I was Mr. Richardson, he looked startled. As if he doubted I was his real passenger, he asked me where I was going.
    “To the Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills,” I said with irritation.
    “Then you got the right guy,” he answered, sounding slightly friendlier than before.
    I could tell he was the talkative type, so when we got into the car I wanted to say I was tired and didn’t feel like talking. He could go back to being his snotty self. But I didn’t.
    “Where you from?”
    “North Carolina.”
    “Is that where you came from today?”
    “No,” I said, hoping he would get the clue from my short answers.
    “Where did you start your day?”
    “New Orleans.”
    “How is it there now?”
    “Better.”
    “Do you think it will ever be the same?”
    “I hope so.”
    “How long have you lived there?”
    “Not long.”
    “Do you come to Los Angeles much?”
    “No.”
    “You here on business or pleasure?”
    “Both.”
    “The hotel you’re staying at is real nice. A lot of celebrities and ball players stay there. Do you play ball?”
    “No,” I answered. I wanted to respond, Do I look like a ball player at five-foot-eight?
    “What type of business you in?”
    “Interior design.”
    “Okay. I’ll let you rest. You must be tired.”
    Finally, I thought, as I repositioned myself in the back of the limo. Just as I got comfortable and was about to kick off my shoes, I heard his voice again.
    “Well, here we are. I’m going to give you my card in case you need a driver while you’re out here. Do you need help with your luggage?”
    “Thanks, but I don’t have much. Just one bag. I can make it.”
    “I guess you won’t be out here long.”
    “No, not long,” I said, stepping out into the cool morning air. Thank God it wasn’t as hot as it had been in New Orleans.
    The opulent hotel lobby was empty and quiet. I walked up tothe marble front desk where the night clerk looked busy on the computer.
    “Excuse me,” I said.
    “Yes, sir, how can I help you?” She smiled.
    “Are you holding a key for an Aldridge Richardson?”
    “Let me check.”
    After a few minutes she said, “Yes, here we go. Your party is in villa eight. All you need to do is go out the double doors around the corner. There will be signs. Do you need help with your luggage?”
    “No, thanks, I’m fine.”
    She handed me the pass key and I nodded thank you.
    I walked around the corner and through the double doors and followed the sign that led to villas 7 to 12. I got excited at the thought of sleeping next to Dray. We didn’t get many chances to do that since he’d gotten married. When I reached number 8 I