Free Street Chronicles Girls in the Game by Nikki Turner Page B

needed one, since my half—Native American father, the same one who abandoned me when I was six, blessed me with his coal-black, naturally wavy hair. I inherited everything else from my mother, who raised me and my two brothers all by herself in theprojects. My mother, a thick, chocolate sister with lots of street savvy and spunk, was always weak when it came to a good-looking brotha with pretty hair. So, after knowing my father only two months, she became pregnant with me; then two years later she had my twin brothers. Soon after the twins were born she married my father. Realizing that fatherhood wasn't for him, he split. He moved to New York, leaving her a single mother of a six-year-old and two four-year-olds. So we headed to the projects.
    After I pulled into the parking lot of American Family Fitness, I made my way inside the gym and headed toward the locker room to change clothes, all the while keeping my eyes open for Mr. Christian Hall, the man I planned to pussy-whip for a good cause.
    Soon after changing into my red sports bra and shorts, I walked through the weight-lifting area and spotted him. I'd seen him a couple of times at recent functions, but I didn't realize the brotha was so damn fine. He had a Boris Kodjoe thing going on for sure, body and all. I hoped Tank knew what he was doing, planning this hookup with Chris.
    I had to get one of the other fellas to stare at me so that Chris could follow suit. I bent over to tie my shoe, which I left untied on purpose so that I could give the guys a sneak peek at my thirty-six Ds.
    “Damn, shorty!” some dude on the weight bench said. His male radar kicking in, Chris turned around and stared at me just as I stood back up from tying my shoe. I rolled my eyes and sucked my teeth at the punk on the weight bench, while trying not to notice Chris. I grabbed a couple of ten-pound barbells, then sat at an empty weight bench. I could feel Chris staring a hole through the back of my head, but I kept my composure. My cell phone rang (actually, I had set the alarm to go off). I answeredit and carried on a fake conversation, knowing that there was no one on the other end.
    “Hello?” I said. “No, it's no problem, Angela. What is it?”
    I paused as if I were really listening to someone on the other end.
    “No, I specifically told Mr. Williams that the proposal needed to be revised,” I continued. “If the budget is not in compliance with the City of Richmond, then we will have to forfeit the entire agreement. Tell him I need the revision no later than nine a.m. tomorrow. Call me if you have any problems.”
    I closed my flip phone and laid it on the bench beside me. Before I could even begin my workout routine, Chris walked over to me.
    “Excuse me, I'm Christian Hall, Richmond's newest commonwealth's attorney,” he boasted. He then held out his hand. I shook it, staring at him like he was a terrible imposition.
    “Okay, and … ?” I said, eyes wide.
    “Well, when I heard you say something about being in compliance with the City of Richmond, I immediately felt obligated to jump in to assist, since I have so many connections in the city.”
    “Did I ask for your assistance, Mr. Hall?” I asked. Tank had warned me of his cockiness, which was being proven by the way he approached me and introduced himself. What a jerk.
    “No offense, miss. I swear, I didn't mean to offend you. I just thought I could help.”
    “You and every guy in here, I'm sure,” I said sarcastically.
    “No, I'm for real. Where exactly do you work?” he asked.
    “I'm the executive director for Richmond Redevelopment and Housing Authority,” I replied in a laid-back tone.
    He paused, squinting his eyes to observe me. “Hey, I know you. You're Denise Anderson, right?”
    “Yes, but my friends call me Renée.”
    “Well, Renée—” he said with a huge grin on his face before I quickly cut him off.
    “I said, my
friends
call me Renée,” I snapped. I had to let him know right then that