Playing Hard To Get by Grace Octavia Read Free Book Online

holding. An aspiring lawyer who prided herself on her Brooklyn hustle and go-getter mentality, Naudia was the perfect fit for Tamia. She was eager and unflappable—what any assistant would need to be to keep up with Tamia’s ambitious work ethic.
    “Of course. She took me off the Lucas case and gave me this piece of crap…and it’s pro bono. A slop fest. That won’t get me any news.” Tamia handed Naudia the file.
    “What is it?”
    “My new burden,” Tamia said. “Hey, after you file that, set up a mani-pedi with Juan.”
    Tamia waved her hand to excuse Naudia from the office and picked up the phone to call Tasha. She wanted to vent and after-work drinks with the 3Ts was just what she needed to keep from completely losing her mind.
    “I’m sorry to hear she took you off the case,” Naudia said before exiting. “You worked really hard on it and Lucas was lucky to have someone like you on his team. He wasn’t just a big joke to you.”
    Even in her anger, Tamia heard the sincerity in her voice.
    “Thanks,” Tamia said, lowering the phone from her ear. “Look, forget about Juan…. Just start a new file and contact Holder to set up a meeting. I’ll need to see him as soon as possible.”
    “No problem, Counselor,” Naudia said brightly.
    Tamia was about to leave a message on Tasha’s voice mail when Naudia finally walked out.
    “Hey, girl!” Tamia heard a loud and familiar voice from just outside the door. “Your boss lady in there?”
    In poked the head of another demon Tamia dreaded. Only this one was that of a peer.
    “Hey, Tamia. You free?”
    “Yes, Jones,” Tamia answered wryly. “Come in.”
    
     
    Tasha couldn’t answer Tamia’s phone call because she was busy thinking about maybe holding one of her daughters in her arms. But they were getting so heavy now, even little Tiara, and she didn’t want to wrinkle the silk shirt she was wearing before Lionel had a chance to see how good she looked.
    She was standing in the lobby at Newark Airport, awaiting Lionel’s return from Miami. Around her stood an eager crowd of drivers holding pickup cards with secret names the players had selected, in-the-know fans, a few mistresses (whom she’d identified by their ridiculously long hair weaves), and some of the other wives of Knicks players who’d also made the move to New Jersey in search of suburban sprawl and a small chance of marital bliss.
    While Tasha had long separated herself from the drama and backbiting that provided the unstable backbone of the NBA wives’ club, she still knew many of the faces of these women and when she’d arrived at the airport had smiled sociably at them and chatted just long enough to hear the latest gossip.
    Naturally short tempered, she hated the fakeness associated with carrying on long conversations with women she considered less than associates, but knew that she had to know what they knew in order to remain an educated NBA wife. An uneducated NBA wife was sure to become a former NBA wife as an ambitious groupie with a ridiculous weave became a mistress with a more ridiculous weave, waiting for another woman’s husband at the airport. There was a long list of critical rules in surviving this hoop dream universe, and something as trivial as not knowing where and how to await the arrival of one’s husband at the airport could lead to a drawn-out and embarrassing demise.
    “Look at my girls!” Lionel was the picture of pride, his long, lanky frame crouched down before his family. He kissed a gurgling Tiara, pinched Toni’s cheek, and should’ve stood up to hug his wife, but instead he handed Tasha his shoulder bag and pulled Toni from the twin-seater stroller to play.
    To this, Tasha smiled pleasantly. The other husbands were doing the same thing as Lionel, and their wives were looking on adoringly as the men inspected the little ones for boo-boos and gave out kisses. There was no reason to vie for attention. No reason at all. But still, behind the most