Free Not a Day Goes By by E. Lynn Harris

miss me last night?” I said.
    “Don’t try and give me that baby stuff. I’m mad at you,” Yancey said.
    “But you still love me, right?”
    “Only if you do something for me.”
    “What do you have in mind?” I said in my best Barry White voice.
    “Windsor works with these kids at some place called Hale House, and she asked me for a contribution,” Yancey said.
    “I know about Hale House. I went to some big dinner they gave a couple of years ago,” I said. “They do great work.”
    “Yeah, that’s what Windsor said. I gave her a check this morning ’cause I knew you would want to give.”
    “How much did I give?” I asked as I smiled to myself. I love the way Yancey was always concerned with others.
    “Five thousand dollars,” Yancey said.
    “I’ll give you a check when I see you later this evening.”
    “That’s fine, and yes, I still love you,” Yancey whispered.
    I was getting ready to tell Yancey I loved her when I noticed Brison tapping at my door.
    “I love you, baby, but I got to run,” I said. I hung up the phone and motioned for Brison to enter my office.
    “You got a minute?” he asked.
    “Sure. Whassup?” Brison still looked as if he could line up on the defense for any NFL team. He was a beefy-faced man with large hands. He was just a little over six six, with toast-brown skin and a bald head. He was the married man in the office and had three children and a beautiful wife, Sherrie, who loved planning parties for the firm. Nico, his brother-in-law, was single. He traveled more than Brison and myself simply because he had ladies in almost every major city in the country. Whenever we had a player who could be easily influenced by a quick piece of ass, Nico knew some woman who was more than willing to fill the player’s request. Brison didn’t think it was the best way to conduct business, but sometimes a beautiful woman, with freak tendencies, could be the difference between a player signing with us or going with the competition. Nico and I hated to lose more than anything.
    “When are you going back to the Chicago area?” Brison asked as he sat on my brown overstuffed sofa. My office was hooked up real nice. I had colorful artwork on the walls and a rich redwood conference table with black leather chairs. My desk was a large glasstop with solid brass legs. I also had a couple of antique end tables and lamps that created the feel of an upscale cigar bar.
    “I don’t know. I hadn’t planned a trip there anytime soon,” I said.
    “Well, there’s a guy there I want you to meet. I think he’d be a great candidate to bring into the firm, either as an employee to open the Chicago office or even as a partner, if he has the amount of money I think he has. He’s a former teammate of mine from the Cougars. Plus he’s really popular in Chicago,” Brison said.
    “Does he have any experience representing players?”
    “Yeah, and that’s one of the great things about him. He’s with a white agency right now, but looking to leave. He already has two players from Northwestern and that guy Bennie Wilson from Michigan.”
    “Bennie Wilson! Man, he’s certain to be a first-round pick.”
    “You know, dude, if we could get Bennie as a client we could end up with eight of the first ten picks,” Brison said with a huge smile on his face. “That would drive the white boys wild.”
    “So you think right now is the time to expand?”
    “I think so. When Nico gets back from his trip we should talk about it in more depth. But I think the Big Ten area is too lucrative not to have some permanent representation there. I mean, Weinberg and company are getting all the players from Michigan to Penn State. I mean, they got those schools locked up tight. I think now is the time to add some local color.”
    “I feel you,” I said. I took a look at my desk calendar. Nothing scheduled until late next week. “Look, Brison, I can make a day trip to Chicago and meet with dude.”
    “You sure? I