The Football Player's Wife

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The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Copyright © 2005 Jon Bradbury ISBN: 1-55410-725-3 Cover art by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books www.extasybooks.com

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he personality of the Queen of Swords combines the positive air energy of the Swords Suit with the inward focus of a Queen. You can always count on her to tell you exactly how it is. Above all else she admires honesty, and she lives by her commitment to being truthful. Lies, tricks and games are of no interest to her, but she’s not easy to fool. She is experienced in the ways of the world, good and bad. The Queen of Swords can size up a situation quickly. She understands human folly, but doesn’t condemn it. She knows when cow manure is being thrown around and simply finds clever ways around it. She prefers being straightforward and direct. Her observations are candid, but never hurtful. In fact, this Queen has a delightful sense of humor. She likes a good laugh and always has a witty comeback ready-to-hand. She knows that life isn’t meant to be taken too seriously. The Queen of Swords is refreshing in her candor and lack of pretense.

In readings, the Queen of Swords asks you to think and feel as she does. For example: Are you being completely honest? (Check this one first!) Do you see the humor in the situation? Are you getting right to the point? Have you figured out what’s really going on? Are you letting yourself be fooled? This Queen can also represent a man or woman who is like her, or an atmosphere of honest, direct communication. In a reading, she tells you that her special energy has meaning for you at this time. Let yourself be inspired by this Queen in whatever form she appears in your life.

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f everything is so damn perfect,” Dayana muttered to her reflection in the mirror, “why can’t I get my own husband to show some admiration?” Dayana Marie Boucher-Newton looked at herself in the full-length mirror in the master bedroom, wondering where she went wrong. Her husband had just left with his buddies — without even a kiss. She had the perfect house, the perfect husband, a pro football player, no less, and she was the perfect wife, as his team mates had often told her so when they came to the house, sometimes with a hint of jealousy, that she thought was sweet and flattering. It was easy to see why they could be jealous. Dayana was slim and slender, and had a petite figure, along with silky soft and creamy smooth caramel skin. Her hair was straight, and dark brown, worn in a softly layered shoulder length bob that set off her big soft eyes. 1

Jon Bradbury Dayana had become the perfect wife for her husband. Thanks to her husband’s money, she always had perfect hair, and always had perfectly manicured fingernails. She was rapidly clicking those nails on the little table by the mirror, getting more and more upset with each click. She’d had two surprises planned for him. The first surprise was to make his favorite dinner, her special hamburgers. A bowl of ground beef had been marinating all day in the fridge. She had gone to the lingerie store for the second surprise — to buy the most beautiful bra and the prettiest pair of panties she could find. She chose a matching bra and panties in elegant white lace. Dayana drove home, while the afternoon sun was still high in the sky, ran up the front steps, and quickly went inside. She ran past the kitchen and the living room, ran upstairs. She showered, and rubbed baby oil on her skin. She even sprayed on the perfume that he liked her to wear. She put on lipstick with a smile, thinking how she couldn’t wait for him to get home. Then she put on the lingerie. Smiling, she studied herself in the mirror, turning left and right. The bra, with daringly low-cut half-cups, felt like a pair of knowing hands on her full breasts, cupping them firmly yet gently, pushing them together for some serious cleavage. The equally 2

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords daring bikini cut panties also left a good part of skin visible. The material covered her feminine parts but was enticingly see-through. The elastic securely gripped her booty like an invisible lover, but left her bubble shaped butt cheeks deliciously bare. The dove white material made a sexy contrast to her skin. She was offering up her personal treats to her husband. She looked sexy, and even more importantly, felt sexy. She adjusted the straps on her bra as she heard him bustle inside the house. She turned around and smiled at him just as he came into the master bedroom. Her husband was a handsome black man, his skin a different shade of brown than hers was. He was six foot tall and very broad across the chest and shoulders. His head was bald, his eyes dark. “Hey, baby,” she had fairly purred. “Hey, Dayana,” he grunted, as he sat down on the bed and began untying the laces on his sneakers. She walked over to him, sat in his lap, and began lightly running the tips of her fingernails over his bulging biceps. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home,” she said seductively. “I bought these today. How do I look, baby?” And what did he do? He looked up at her. No smile. No reaction. He said, “Dayana, when’s dinner?” 3

Jon Bradbury She drew back from him. “What?” “I asked you, when’s dinner,” he repeated. “Going out with the buddies tonight. Don’t want to go out hungry.” Dayana angrily stood up, put her t-shirt and jeans back on over her bra and panties, then went downstairs into the kitchen, to make him his damn dinner. A few minutes later he came into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She placed a hamburger on a plate before him. He scarfed it down without so much as a thank you, and then bustled out again with his buddies, all of them team members that she knew. They looked like they felt bad for her. Although they couldn’t know the whole reason why she was so upset with Eddie, they could make a good guess. Dayana got small comfort from that. After Eddie had left, she stormed back upstairs to the master bedroom and took off her t-shirt and jeans. Now she stared at herself angrily, still wearing the pointless white lace bra and panties, her arms folded huffily across her chest. I should have known. Dayana decided she would no longer be dishonored by her own husband. She shrugged off her bra and wiggled out of her panties. She went into her side of their huge walkin closet, found her favorite strapless silver sequined dress, pulled it up and zipped the 4

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords zipper. Then she found her matching silver open toed sandals, with three inch high stiletto heels, stepped into them, and snapped the straps closed. She walked over to the mirror and smiled at her reflection. The bottom hem of the dress stopped about mid thigh. The dress clung to her curves in all the right places. She loved the way it flattered her slim waist, and showed off her booty. Since she wore no bra or panties, no lines showed through the shiny fabric, just seriously smooth curves. Finally, she found her little matching silver drawstring purse and put a few essential items in it — a lipstick, compact, cell phone, lotion, and some condoms she took from the bathroom. She grinned and blushed as she dropped the condoms in her purse. A girl’s got to be prepared. Then she went out the front door, and out to her car, her high heels making a sexy click-clickclick as she walked. While she was walking out to her car, it started to rain. That made her quiet and sad. If her husband was at home right now, they would be taking advantage of the dark and quiet, the rain accompanying the noises she’d be making. Or would have been making, she corrected herself. Should have been making. In the midst of her thoughts, she arrived at her 5

Jon Bradbury car, and realized she had left the top down. It was a two-door silver sports car, with a black canvas top and black leather upholstery. Tiny water beads were all over the body. She quickly got the top up, wiped off the seats and got in. She smoothly pulled out into traffic. During the drive to the club, Dayana took off her rings and put them in her little matching silver purse. If the press of single men became too great, all she had to do, was put them on again. The engagement ring, especially, was difficult to miss.

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ndrew Wendell James didn’t arrive at the club by car. In fact, he walked. The place was only a two-block walk away from his townhouse, so walk he did. It was a lot easier than driving over, and a lot safer, too, in case he had too much to drink. In his black pants, white shirt, black jacket and black stocking cap, with white socks and black sandals, he blended in with the unusually cool and rainy night. He was about five-eight, with curly dark brown hair and hazel eyes, with a lean build, and an open honest face. Invisible in the club, he threaded his way between tables, and over to the bar, where he ordered his usual drink — a wine cooler — and sat down with it. He rotated his seat around, and looked at nothing while he sipped his drink. Wendell kept his attention on his drink, and avoided making eye contact with any of the women who sauntered by. He neither needed nor 7

Jon Bradbury wanted any female company tonight, because his girlfriend just broke up with him and he wasn’t in the mood. Wendell sighed. He was white, but he was rapidly finding out for himself that white women were more problems than they were worth — way more costs than rewards. He needed a change. He nearly spit out his drink when he saw the goddess. She came inside the glass doorway, her silhouette backlit against bright lights, and then he could see her as she stepped completely inside. She was a gorgeous chocolate woman, wearing a pretty strapless dress all in silver sequins. The strapless dress fit her petite frame somewhat loosely, yet followed every curve. He watched her body move under the dress as she walked towards the bar, her matching high heeled open toed sandals clicking on the marble floor. The silver color went so well with the color of her skin. Her dark brown hair was straight, shiny and pretty, and her eyes were nearly as dark, with long fine eyelashes. Her hands were beautiful too, small and dainty, with long slim straight fingers and long fingernails, painted a brown color that went with her skin, and matched the lipstick her full generous lips were painted in. Maybe she’s born with it. Maybe it’s Maybelline. 8

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Who cares? From his spot at the bar, he could detect some coolness in her gaze. Wendell didn’t mean to, but he made eye contact with the silver goddess. Her lips widened very slightly outward in the barest hint of a smile. That smile changed her whole face — her eyes got some sparkle. Wendell watched her just walk right past every guy who stepped to her, all the way to the bar — and sit on the stool right next to his! He took a slug off his drink, then turned to face her. He said, “Uh, hi.” The woman smiled a warm smile at him. “Hi, baby.” “Can I, uh, buy you a drink?” “Please,” she smiled. “I’ll have what you’re having.” Wendell grinned and called the bartender back over, who served her. “Thank you,” the mystery woman smiled. As she sat and crossed her legs, she placed her hands on the armrests in a prim, womanly manner, and turned her stool to face his, showing an entire club full of jealous would-be suitors that they were too late, and settled herself. “Baby, what’s your name?” Wendell stuck his hand out. “Andrew Wendell James. Just call me Wendell.” The ebony queen put her hand out daintily and 9

Jon Bradbury held his gently. “Hi, Wendell. I’m Dayana Boucher.” She held his hand a long time. “That’s a lovely outfit, Dayana,” Wendell said cautiously. “I hope the rain didn’t turn to steam.” Dayana laughed out loud, threw her head back, and smiled a big toothy smile. “Thank you! You’re so sweet, baby!” “Was it still raining when you arrived?” Dayana nodded but didn’t speak, taking a sip of her drink. “I like the rain,” she said softly. “What about you?” “Yeah,” he nodded. “I like the rain, too. Helps me fall asleep.” “You look like you could use some sleep,” she observed. “You look a little tired.” Wendell took a sip of his drink. “Yeah, I am. But sleep isn’t what I need.” Dayana smiled an understanding smile. She sipped her drink. They sat and chatted a long while, heedless of what was going on around them. She laughed at his jokes, nodded at his insightful comments, touched him. Wendell found out that Dayana Boucher was not only drop dead sexy, but a really nice lady, and pretty funny herself. And she was single, too. She wore no rings on her left hand — and didn’t mention any significant others in her life. Suddenly the DJ started to play a soft romantic song over the club’s sound system. 10

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Dayana said, “Oh, they’re playing my song. Would you like to dance?” Wendell swallowed the alcohol in his mouth and said, “Yeah!” Dayana giggled a little, then put down her drink. She took his hand in a soft but secure hold, slipping her fingers between his, and led him out on the dance floor. There, he found out she was still somewhat shorter than him, even with the high heeled sandals. Wendell was quite surprised when she let him pull her very close to him. She let him pull her so close that their bodies were touching. She ran her hands lightly over his arms, and stared deeply into his eyes. They danced an easy gentle playful dance. Dayana grinned as she turned around to show Wendell a nice rear view, then she smoothly began grinding her booty against him. Her grinding became somewhat more insistent as Wendell took hold of her waist. In a bawdy doggy-style position, she slowly rubbed her silver-clad booty against him. She felt him match her movements. She felt his cock get hard, too. Grinning, she finally turned back around to face him, and willingly let him pull her back to him. She lightly ran her fingernails over his face, and gave him a look she hadn’t given a man in many months. As she stared into his eyes again, she felt 11

Jon Bradbury herself leaning in towards him, tilting her head slightly. In slow motion, their lips touched — a brief, soft, thrilling touch. The song ended and the DJ announced a break. Reality came crashing back. “I don’t suppose you have anyone waiting for you?” She was still standing close to him, her hands on his arms. Wendell smoothly said, “No, I live by myself.” Dayana nervously glanced at the doors. “I realize we just met, but how would you like to ride with me for a while in my car?” Wendell swallowed. “Uhm, sure, yeah.” “Great!” Dayana smiled. “Meet me outside in ten minutes.” “Okay,” he grinned at her. “Ten minutes, okay?” she repeated. “Outside, by the valet.” “The valet,” Wendell repeated, nodding. “Ten minutes.” She quickly kissed him again, then wiped her lipstick off in an practically tender fashion. “Don’t be late.” “Not a chance,” Wendell promised. She blushed, turned around, grabbed her purse from the bar, and marched to the bathroom. She couldn’t believe that she’d given him her maiden name like that. She couldn’t believe she’d danced 12

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords with him like that. She couldn’t believe that kiss — it lasted just a second — but her lips were tingling. And she couldn’t believe how wet she was. In the bathroom, she quickly composed herself and did her business. Then she went to the counter and reached inside her purse for her lipstick. She wanted another kiss. And another. And another. She looked at the expensive rings still sitting in the bottom of her purse, along with her makeup — and the condoms — and didn’t feel very much guilt that she was about to cheat on her husband. Dayana had already decided this was the one. She concentrated on making herself look nice. Smiling, she put on lipstick. She finished, put the tube back in her purse, walked out, across the room, straight for the door, and gave the valet guy her claim ticket. It wasn’t long before he pulled up with her car. She walked over to her car, where the valet guy promptly got out, and held the door open for her. Dayana gave him a good tip, better that what her husband usually gave. And then she waited for Wendell.

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endell just knew that the silver goddess, Dayana, was playing with him. But he went ahead and played his part. After she left for the bathroom (he assumed, again), he quickly finished his drink and paid the tab, then put his stocking cap back on and ambled towards the bathroom himself. Wendell quickly found it was difficult to use the toilet, because his cock was stuck to his boxers. The goddess had turned him on with that dance! He did his business anyway, cleaned himself up, then went to the door, and back outside. He looked to his left, and saw the car. “Hi,” he grinned. “Hi.” Dayana sat there, smiling at him. She gave him a sweet little feminine wave. “Right on time,” she smiled. “Of course,” Wendell chuckled. “I’m so glad you could make it,” Dayana said pleasantly. “Come on, get in.” 14

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Wendell got in the car with this beautiful ebony woman. Dayana drove the car into the hills around the city, making sure to take the scenic route, so they would have lots of time to talk. The car finally came to a stop. Dayana unlatched her seatbelt, and rolled the window down, to reveal a spectacular view of the city lights. Dayana touched his arm. “Hey, baby, look.” “Wow,” Wendell said. “I’ve never been up here before.” Dayana smiled at him. “Quite a view, isn’t it?” Wendell touched her cheek. “It’s almost as beautiful as you are.” Dayana reached out and stroked his face with her nails, then pulled him close to her. And then suddenly they were kissing. She paused in her kisses. “Tell me. Have you ever been with a black woman?” Wendell shook his head. “Nope.” “I’m your first?” Dayana smiled. Wendell nodded. “Yep.” Dayana’s smile widened. “Good.” “You want to move in back?” Wendell suggested. “It’s cramped up here.” “You’re right,” she smiled. “Hang on a second.” She reached down between the seat and the door. 15

Jon Bradbury The seat moved back. Then she reached for another lever, which reclined the seat slightly. “There,” she said. “Much better, I think.” Wendell grinned. “Plenty of room,” he said. Dayana kissed him softly and lightly at first, her lips barely touching his. She straddled him, and the kisses stayed soft but became more passionate, almost loving. She slipped off his jacket, then loosened his belt buckle and took off his t-shirt. Wendell loved how soft her hands were on his bare skin, how light her touch was. Her brown hands made an erotic contrast with his white, almost pink skin when she touched him. Wendell slowly reached up, and rubbed her incredibly soft and smooth arms, then her shoulders and neck, and hair, then down her back, and when his hand brushed her butt, she looked at him for a second, and resumed her kisses. Dayana closed her eyes when their lips touched. But she opened them widely again when she felt hands on her breasts. She looked down and Wendell’s hands were on her silver-clad breasts, cupping and squeezing and stroking gently. “Do you like these black titties?” she asked him. “Hell, yeah,” Wendell nodded. “Here, baby,” Dayana laughed. She pulled the top of her dress down to expose her breasts to Wendell. She nearly melted as his hands gently 16

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords touched her bare breasts. His touch felt even better without a layer of fabric in the way. Wendell stared at her breasts as he caressed them. They were the same color, coffee with milk added, the nipples a darker shade of brown. He licked at her nipple. Dayana moaned and arched her back into him, slipping her hand around the back of his head, allowing Wendell easier access. He took her nipple further into his mouth and began to nibble and suck on it. Dayana’s answer was a sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth. She didn’t protest one bit when she felt his hands tug at the bottom hem of her dress and pull it up, felt his hands brush her bare ass. She gasped and started when she felt his hand on her feminine parts. She felt his hand slow down. “Oh god, don’t stop, baby,” she pleaded with him. Wendell’s hand started moving again. Then the pleasure took over, and she moved her hips against his hand until she was dripping with desire. Dayana wanted to give him pleasure, after that. “Sit back, baby.” Smiling, she put on fresh lipstick, got down on the floor, and slowly unzipped his trousers. She pulled his sandals off, then drew his pants down and threw them in the back seat. Then she used 17

Jon Bradbury the tips of her nails to draw his boxers down his legs, and finally she spread his legs with a light touch, and moved in between. She took some hand lotion, rubbed it on her hands, and began to lightly stroke his cock. It became hard almost right away, quickly extending past her thumb, until it was a fully erect shaft of hard white masculinity. She also noticed the contrast of her brown hands and his white skin. And loved it! When she saw the pre-cum oozing over the tip of his cock, she slowly leaned forward and licked it off with the flat of her tongue. It had been a long time since she’d given pleasure to a man — but not quite that long. Wendell’s cock was so erect it was ready to burst. Holding his cock gently with her fingers, Dayana put her lips around the tip of his cock and sucked, as she gently jacked him off. Thinking that she was beginning to enjoy this, she decided to take more of him in her mouth. She started to go down. Each time she went down, she went down a little more, until his entire cock was inside her mouth, then back up and back down. “Oh, god, Dayana.” At first she moved slowly, but speeded up as her confidence increased, and Wendell’s quiet moans and groans became louder. She pressed her lips together to make a ring of lipstick around his 18

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords cock, then pulled back and smiled. “Did you like that, baby?” Wendell exhaled through pursed lips. “What do you think?” Dayana grinned mischievously. Then she reached inside her purse for a condom. “Let’s see how you like this.” Dayana slowly unrolled it on his cock. She climbed back up, straddled him, held his cock up and sank down on it. Her pussy was small and tight, the labia like a pair of lips pressed together, but she was so wet he went inside her like a whisper. She wiggled a little bit but soon he was inside her up to the hilt of his shaft. “How do you like that?” Dayana said lustfully. “I like it a lot,” Wendell gulped. “But do you like it?” “What do you think?” Dayana replied thickly. Then she held on to him as she began moving up and down on him. Dayana started with her hands on his shoulders, but soon was holding on strong to him, her arms around his neck, his face in between her breasts as she fucked him. “Oh god, baby,” she whimpered. “Hold me, baby!” “I am,” Wendell gasped. He held her firmly by the waist as she moved up and down on him, but it was getting difficult. In her passion, Dayana was bouncing up and down, her hair moving. Wendell knew she was almost there — he could feel her 19

Jon Bradbury pussy tightening around his cock. He deliberately slowed her down. “I’m going to cum,” Dayana moaned urgently. “I’m going to cum baby!” Wendell moved her slowly for a few strokes more, then he brought her satisfaction. He let her move faster, until her nails dug in his shoulders and she let loose a loud shout-squeal-growl. “OHH!” They held each other until they were aware of the cool night air, and each other. That was when Wendell noticed Dayana was sniffling, and trembling like a leaf. Wendell looked at her and said, “Dayana, you’re trembling. You okay?” Dayana was wetting Wendell’s shoulder with her tears. “I’m okay,” she cried. “Oh, baby, I’m so okay.” She stroked his face with her nails. “I hope those are happy tears,” Wendell cracked. “You bet they are,” Dayana laughed and sniffed. She didn’t give him a chance to say anything more, she kissed him again. They were quickly in the groove again. Their attraction was so powerful. It blew away any guilt Dayana might have had, like sunshine on a rainy day. “What do you want to do now?” Dayana asked softly. 20

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords “I want to eat your pussy,” Wendell replied boldly. “You can do whatever you want,” Dayana replied slowly. Dayana completely took off her dress. Then she sat next to Wendell on the soft leather upholstery and spread her legs. Dayana’s eyes never left his, as she began pointing the way by running the tips of her long nails along her inner thigh and then touching her pussy for him. She crooked her finger at him, grinning. “Come here, baby,” she said to Wendell. He hesitated for a bit, taking this moment to savor Dayana’s beautiful glow. And her pussy was so wet, calling to him. But he found his attraction to her was so much more than sexual. He held on to her hands as he slipped between her legs and gently began to eat her pussy. Dayana was crying new tears of pleasure as Wendell spread her pussy lips apart and pushed his tongue inside her. “Ohhhh, baby,” she gasped. She gently held his face closer and ran her nails through his hair. “Yes, baby, eat my black pussy!” He didn’t stop until he heard her shout-squeal again. Dayana took his hands and pulled him up to her, and kissed him for ten straight minutes, devouring him with sexy kisses. She finally pulled back and said, “That was fucking incredible!” 21

Jon Bradbury Wendell grinned. “I love eating pussy.” Dayana grinned. “It sure shows, baby. Now it’s your turn.” She playfully pushed him back against the seat. She kissed him again, then she began to touch and kiss her way down his chest, to his tummy, and finally to his cock. She sucked it like there was no tomorrow, and this time she didn’t stop till he came in her mouth. Then Wendell pulled Dayana into a sweet embrace. Dayana snuggled up to him and put her head on his shoulder. Her warm soft hair on his shoulder, her skin against his, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders, her lips by his ear, provided him with comfort. He pulled her a little closer to comfort her. Wendell couldn’t help but notice how her trembling almost went away from her petite frame as he held her in his arms. Her breathing in his ear slowly became deep and regular. Suddenly she disengaged from him, twisted around and said, “I’ll take us back to the club.” Then Dayana looked at him again. “I hope that’s okay,” she said. Wendell nodded, not knowing what to say. “Whatmm—” Dayana shushed him with a kiss. “You didn’t do anything,” she whispered. Wendell nodded. She picked up her dress from the floor and slipped it back on, and stepped back 22

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords into her high heels. Wendell was having a difficult time getting his own clothes back on in the small space. Dayana helped him get his clothes from the back seat, then helped him dress. Dayana lowered herself down back into his arms. Then, she softly whispered in his ear, a little hoarsely, “You are such a sweet man.” She tenderly wiped the lipstick away. “Thank you.” “For—” “Please,” she whispered, “No questions.” “Okay,” Wendell nodded. Dayana started the car back up again and drove off. They spent the drive in surprisingly comfortable silence. A few times they looked at each other, smiled and blushed. Neither of them said anything. As Dayana stopped at the intersection by the club, Wendell said, “It’s too bad this ride has to end.” He tried to sound humorous — but it came out wistful instead. Dayana smiled at him. “Yes, it’s too bad.” “You’re not crying anymore,” he said, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. Dayana lightly pressed her fingers against his lips. “No questions,” she whispered softly, shaking her head. “Just know that you’ve made me a very happy woman.” “Then I guess this is it,” Wendell said. “Yes,” Dayana said sadly. “It is.” 23

Jon Bradbury “I’d like to see you again—” Dayana gently placed her fingers on his lips again. “Maybe we can.” She smiled sadly, but happily. “Someday.” Wendell stepped outside into the fresh air. Dayana stepped out with him, to say one final goodbye. Dayana said softly, over a lump in her throat, “Until then, remember us. Remember tonight.” She kissed him on the lips, as soft as a whisper, hugged him one more time, and said, “Good night, baby.” Wendell nodded unhappily. “Yeah. Good night, Dayana.” It wasn’t raining then, but the parking lot and streets were freshly wet, reflecting the city lights. It looked like it would rain again, soon. He walked away slowly. Don’t look back, Dayana thought desperately, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Dayana got back inside the car, crying quietly. As she drove the car out of the parking lot and back into the streets, Dayana cried, but with dignity. She had so many emotions running through her, that she didn’t know why she was crying — happy, because a man she had clicked with, had satisfied her beyond words; sad, because she’d had to go outside her marriage to find that satisfaction, or that she’d lied to Wendell 24

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords as well, to get that satisfaction. Or just sad that she would never see him again.

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endell went into the newsroom of the sports magazine he worked for, found his cubicle, and dropped into his chair. Grinning for god only knew what reason, because he was still jet-lagged from his last trip, he booted up the workstation on his desk, went through his email, and read the sample copy of the magazine on his desk. Despite his lethargy, it gave him a charge to see his name in print. It always had, and always would. When it didn’t, he would stop writing. But writing was still fun. That’s what he had told Dayana that night. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. It had been more than a week since he’d met Dayana, but that rainy night was still as fresh in his mind as if it happened yesterday, despite how it had ended. He replayed the encounter in his mind as he casually flipped through the glossy pages. The dance in the club. The nice chat. Her laugh. Her smile. The way she looked in the silver dress she 26

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords wore. The way she sounded when she came. The way she’d cried in his arms. He had just put the magazine down when he heard the editor’s office door open. “Hey, Wendell?” Wendell dropped the magazine and whirled his chair around. “Yo!” The editor, a black woman named Pam Easton, stood in her office doorway, held up the same issue, and smiled. “Great job on the article. Can you come in here for a minute, please?” Wendell shrugged. “Sure.” He got up and went inside, then closed the door and sat down. “What’s up, Pam?” Pam was, as usual, dressed to kill, in a tan skirt and blouse and white highheeled pumps, her hair and makeup immaculate, and her nails were, as usual, perfectly manicured. “I’ve got a story idea I want to run by you.” “Sure,” Wendell nodded. “What’s the scoop?” Pam smiled. “Has anybody ever done an article about what’s it’s like to be married to a pro football player?” Wendell raised his eyebrows, considering. Then he shook his head and said, “No, not that I know of.” “Time to be the first,” she declared. She handed him a press kit. “The team is having a ‘take your wives to work’ day,” she explained. “An obvious PR gimmick. But it’s a good way to start your 27

Jon Bradbury story.” “Okay,” Wendell said. “I’m already at the stadium.” Wendell walked out on to the football field with the other reporters, to mingle with the players. The empty field, the empty seats, echoed. The mood was still somber inside the stadium. The date was September 12th. The national mood wasn’t on football. But it was also the same time that the regular season was gearing up in earnest. Life went on. So here he was, making interviews. The players were getting their time, but he was talking to the wives afterward. Quite a high percentage of the team’s players were married, Wendell had found out, despite the fact that pro football players spend about four out the five months of the regular season on the road. After a couple of hours, he was able to get quite a number of interviews secured, thanks to his press escort, Javier. The wives were gracious and answered his questions away from the press and players, and his guide was able to help him break the ice. He thought he was just about finished, but his guide asked him if he wanted one more interview. Wendell shrugged and said one more won’t hurt. So Javier led him over to this super big hulk of 28

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords a player, who Wendell knew was the defensive tackle Edward Newton. At six foot plus and just as wide, weighing in at 325 pounds, the man put the fear of God in every quarterback in the league — especially since he had broken the record of most sacks in a season last year. They traded a few remarks, a few laughs. Then Newton said, “Let me introduce you to my wife.” He turned to a pretty black woman who was sitting nearby, reading a book, and said, “Dayana?” Dayana Boucher stood up and walked over, casually dressed in a big purple sweater, snug fitting faded blue jeans, and white sneakers, both her long nails and lips painted purple, her hair done in tight curls. Newton took his wife’s hand and led her over. “Want you to meet Wendell James, he’s a sportswriter. Wendell, my wife, Dayana.” Wendell said, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Newton.” Dayana was never happier to see anyone in her whole life! But she turned and smiled a polite smile at him. “Nice to meet you, too. And please, call me Dayana.” Wendell kept his cool — somehow. “I’m doing a story on football player’s wives. Perhaps you’d like to do an interview?” Dayana let her smile become more natural. 29

Jon Bradbury “Certainly. I’d love to.” She turned to her husband and said, “Eddie, honey, Wendell and I are going to go sit inside for the interview.” Nobody would ever have known these two shared some serious passion in the back seat of a car. But Edward Newton didn’t say anything back. He was too engrossed in the interview he was doing with another reporter, holding court as it were. Smirking, Dayana walked over to the elevators, and Wendell followed. Soon they were inside the press box, alone. The room was empty, and quiet. Out the windows, was a picture perfect view of the field and the bleachers. Inside was rust red carpeting, and comfortable couches and foot rests with matching leather upholstery. Wendell said, “Nice to see you again, Dayana.” Dayana smiled a rather wilted smile. “Nice to see you again, too.” “Just not like this?” Wendell asked. Dayana’s smile widened a little. “Not quite, no.” Then Wendell took a deep breath, released it, and said, “You didn’t tell me you were married.” Dayana sighed sadly and shook her head. “No, I didn’t,” she admitted. “Can I ask why?” Wendell said quietly. “You know you can trust me.” 30

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Dayana smiled a bashful smile. “I was afraid,” she said simply. “Of what?” Wendell asked. “Of what happened that night,” Dayana replied. Wendell gave her a questioning look. Dayana smiled disarmingly at his confusion. “The reason I came into the club that night was for a booty call. I was looking to get some,” she admitted plainly. “I never thought I would meet my real soul mate. Okay?” She smiled at him, with love-filled eyes. Wendell released a sigh. Then he grinned foolishly. “Okay,” he nodded. “I take it Boucher is your maiden name?” She nodded. “Yes, Boucher is my maiden name.” “Do you still think about that night as much as I do?” Dayana smiled and blushed. “Yes, I do, more than you know.” Then she took a deep breath and put on a brave smile. “But you wanted to interview a football player’s wife. I can give you a good one.” Wendell gestured to the comfy leather furniture. “Let’s sit, then.” In less than twenty minutes, Wendell knew about the rest of Dayana’s life — the hours spent alone in an empty house while her husband was 31

Jon Bradbury gone for days at a time. By the end of the interview, Wendell knew why Dayana had cried when they made love. “I missed you terribly, Dayana,” Wendell said. Dayana looked at him. “Oh, baby, I missed you, too.” Wendell grinned. “And I don’t think either of us wanted it to end that night.” Dayana opened her lips to say, “No, I didn’t want it to end, either.” “Well then, it doesn’t have to.” Dayana suddenly smiled again, a real smile. “You don’t know how much this means to me,” she said. “You don’t know how much that night meant to me.” Wendell nodded. “From what you’ve told me, I’ve got a good idea.” “Yeah?” Dayana said softly, biting her lower lip. “Do you have a good idea what I would like right now?” “The same thing I would like, I hope,” Wendell grinned. Dayana smiled a mischievous smile. She touched up her purple lipstick, then stood up and put her hand in his. Wendell tugged on her hand gently, bringing her close to him. She willingly stepped inside his space, put her arms around his neck — and kissed him. They kissed softly, delicately, leisurely, like 32

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords they had all the time in the world — until they heard a knock at the door. “Shit,” Wendell whispered. Dayana giggled, then stepped away. The door opened. Javier said, “It’s time to leave.” “I’m coming,” Wendell said. Before they parted, Wendell pulled out one of his business cards and gave it to her. “I can’t take this,” Dayana protested. “Sure you can,” Wendell nodded. “I’m a reporter. We’ve just done an interview. I’m giving you my card.” Dayana took it slowly. She smiled. “With your home phone number on the back?” Wendell shrugged and grinned. He gestured to the card in her lovely hand. “Like I said, it doesn’t have to end. Call me if you still feel the same.” “I will,” Dayana promised.

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ayana was in the supermarket check-out line when she saw the sports magazine in the magazine rack. It sat conspicuously in between the various women’s magazines. She recognized the title because Wendell said that he worked for that magazine, so she picked it up out of idle curiosity. On the cover was a photo, but it was the words on the cover that caught her attention. That, and the name, too. The Toughest Job in the NFL, The Life of a Football Player’s Wife. By Andrew Wendell James. She put the magazine in the shopping cart and bought it with the rest of her groceries. Soon she was sitting in her car, rapidly thumbing through the pages. She was in no hurry to get home. Edward had gone to the stadium earlier to get his stuff ready for the away game this weekend. She had gone to the supermarket, not because she needed anything, but just to get out of the house for a while. To go somewhere, to do 34

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords anything, other than what she very much wanted to do. She was torn between desperately wanting to call Wendell and meet him somewhere, and afraid to call him because she knew exactly what she wanted to meet him for. She put on her pink hooded top and cotton pants, to match her pink lipstick and long pink fingernails, and went to the store. She had been doing just fine, not thinking about him at all, until she saw the magazine. Now Wendell was front and center in her mind again as she flipped through the glossy pages. Finally she found the article. She read it all the way through. Dayana sat back and smiled, closing the magazine. It would be just like him to do that! She rather wished he had asked her first, but the story was fine. More than fine, the story was great! It moved her. It made her want him more and more. Dayana drove home and put away the groceries. She searched for Wendell’s card in her little matching pink purse, found it, took it out, and tapped it on the kitchen counter top, turning it over in her mind. Should I call him or not? She reached for the phone and picked it up. But before she could dial the number — the doorbell rang. “Dammit,” Dayana muttered. 35

Jon Bradbury “Who could that be?” She went to the front door and said, “Who is it?” “It’s me, Monique,” the voice said. Dayana quickly opened the door. Her younger sister Monique stood there. She said, “Hey, girl!” The two women hugged warmly. Observers could easily tell they were sisters. Monique’s skin was the same coffee with cream color as Dayana’s, with the same hair, and had the same slender but curvy figure like Dayana’s. It was Monique’s turn to be wearing purple — she had long purple fingernails, wore purple lipstick, her curly hair like a halo around her face. Like Dayana, she wore a cotton top and pants, also in purple. Monique gushed, “Oh, girl, you all color coordinated! You all that, Miss Pink.” Dayana cackled and blushed. “You should talk, Miss Purple.” The two women talked and laughed for a little while. Dayana said, “So, what are you up to today, Sis?” Monique said, “Well, I wanted to see if you could come with me to the stadium, to see the boys off. I’m surprising my husband before he leaves and I thought maybe you’d want to come too and see Edward off.” Dayana knew that Monique had a very happy marriage with her husband Oscar, who was a defensive tackle with the team. “Thanks, baby, but 36

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords I don’t have a pass.” Monique reached into her purse. “Now you do,” she said simply. Dayana looked at her in disbelief. Then she said, “Let me get my keys.” After driving to the stadium, Monique took Dayana’s hand and they went into the stadium together, and out onto the football field. There, they met several players, who had their stuff together. “Hi, guys,” Monique said in a perky voice. They all turned and grinned back, “Hi, Monique. Hi, Dayana.” Monique nodded and smiled. “Do you guys know where Oscar and Edward are?” One of the guys said, “Yeah, they’re up in the press box, Monique.” Monique smiled and said, “Thanks guys.” “No problem, Monique.” Monique led Dayana up the bleachers towards the press box. Dayana had a slightly wistful smile, hoping Wendell was inside, but Monique opened the door, and all they saw was some of the team members lounging around. “Hey, guys,” Monique smiled again. They all looked up and smiled at her. “Hey, Monique,” they said back. “Is Oscar here?” she said. 37

Jon Bradbury “Right here, baby,” a voice said. Monique looked up and smiled, and ran over to the six-footplus love of her life. They kissed their way over to a private side-room. Right before the door closed, Dayana saw them in a passionate embrace, and clothing being quickly removed. She smiled, blushed, and shook her head. It was simply amazing those two didn’t have a gaggle of little ones, the way they went at it. “So,” Dayana smiled into the silence, “does anyone know where Edward is?” There were a few chuckles and guffaws. Then someone said, “I think I saw him go down to the locker room, Dayana.” Dayana smiled. “Thanks.” Before she left, she said, “Hey, guys. Kick some booty for me this weekend, okay?” The guys grinned back at her. “We’ll do our best, Dayana.” Dayana smiled warmly and blew them a kiss. She went down the stairs and onto the field, and found the men’s locker room. Dayana knocked on the door. Another man besides her husband answered the door, but that was okay. She recognized Tony Williams, who was a friend of Edward’s. Tony was only five-ten and 225 pounds, about a shade darker than her husband, and kept his head bald like Edward, although right now he looked pretty 38

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords casual in a blue hooded sweat suit and sneakers. Dayana smiled at him. “Hi, Tony.” Tony’s face went slack. “Uhhh...hi, Dayana. Nice to see you.” “Likewise, Tony,” she said. “Nice picture, by the way.” “Picture?” Tony asked. “I saw you on a magazine cover at the store today,” she explained. “Oh, yeah,” Tony grinned. “Thanks. What’s up?” Dayana said, “Monique came up to surprise Oscar.” Tony grinned devilishly. “Wow. That ought to cheer up Oscar real good.” Dayana blushed. “She already found Oscar.” Tony chuckled. “Monique bring you with her?” “Yeah,” Dayana nodded. “Monique gave me a pass.” Tony smiled. “That was sweet of her.” Dayana looked around. “So, Tony, where’s my husband? One of the guys told me he’s down here.” Tony had an internal argument with himself that lasted all of a second. It was about time that muthafucka got what was coming to him, he thought. It wasn’t like Newton had told him to guard the door or something. It wasn’t his fault Newton decided not to wait until they were at least out of 39

Jon Bradbury town first. It was mutually agreed among some of the guys that they wouldn’t mind seeing Newton get taken down a notch or two. “Come on in,” he said. He opened the door and let her in. “He’s in the other room changing clothes.” Dayana walked in and heard her husband’s voice. “I’ll just be leaving you guys alone,” Tony chuckled. “I need to get my stuff.” She smiled her thanks at Tony and lightly scratched his back as he left the locker room. Then she went to the inner door. The locker rooms had two separate rooms. There was a spacious front room where the men could shave, and another larger room to change clothes and shower in. It was the door to that inner room that Dayana now walked towards. The door didn’t even have a knob. She pushed on it lightly with her fingertips. She stepped inside — and saw a strange woman, in between her husband’s legs, her head bobbing up and down. “Well, now I know why I can’t seem to get any,” Dayana said nastily, her arms folded over her chest. Both her husband and the woman looked up at her, startled. Edward’s face went slack-jawed and buggy eyed. He blurted out, “Who the hell let you in?” 40

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Dayana smiled icily. “I let myself in,” she said. “Dayana, baby, this isn’t what it looks like—” “Oh, really?” Dayana said, her voice cooling even more. “This looks like someone else besides your lawfully wedded wife is giving you a blowjob. What’s it supposed to look like?” “Wife?” the girl said indignantly, who was on her knees before Edward, topless. She had the nerve to backhand Edward across the shoulder and actually say, “You never said you were married!” Dayana quickly left the locker room without bothering to learn the girl’s name, striding out onto the field and meeting Monique again, who was looking very satisfied. Monique became less certain when she saw Dayana’s face. “What happened?” she asked. Dayana just kept walking back to Monique’s car. “Let’s get me back to my house.” Monique took her by the arm. “What happened?” “I caught Edward with his girlfriend,” Dayana said sarcastically. “I hope you had a good time with Oscar.” They started walking. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” Monique said, gently squeezing Dayana’s arm. “What are you going to do?” “Let’s get me back home,” Dayana said. “But what are you going to do?” 41

Jon Bradbury “Call an attorney,” Dayana snapped. For starters. The news arrived, like thunder and lightning — from the local news, of all places. Wendell was just about to leave for the airport, when he noticed everyone was gathered around the TV. He found out the reason without having to ask. The pretty blonde anchorwoman turned to the handsome sports anchor, and said, “So, Steve, I hear that all it not well for one of our local pro athletes?” “That’s right, Cathy,” Steve responded, with a properly somber face. “We have news from the team that Edward Newton, who last season sacked more quarterbacks than anyone, was served with divorce papers from his wife of seven years. “This station managed to get a copy of those papers, but all they say is that Dayana Newton is filing for divorce on grounds of ‘irreconcilable differences.’ We’ll have more on this story as it becomes available. And now on to the latest standings of the season so far…” “She’s probably not getting any,” Pam Easton suddenly said, at his side. “Probably not,” Wendell said. “I see you’re off to Leguna Seca for the 42

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Superbike race?” “Yeah,” Wendell nodded. “You have the press kit the organizers sent?” “Yep,” Wendell said again. “Good,” Pam nodded. “Try to get some good coverage. This might turn out to be another cover story for you, Wendell.” “I’ll do my best,” Wendell grinned. But his mind was on Dayana Boucher.

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ayana watched the moving men take the last piece of her soon to be ex-husband’s belongings and put them in the moving truck. That left the house pretty much empty. But that was okay because she intended to fill the house with some brand new memories. Wendell hadn’t called her back yet, though — and she’d left like about a million messages on his machine. Dayana was wondering about him. And some of it wasn’t good. Like if he was meeting other women at the club. But she was getting the number-one irritant out of her life, namely Edward Newton. She had asked him for an uncontested divorce, and if she didn’t get that, she would go to the closest media outlet, grant them an all-access interview, and tell them exactly why she wanted a divorce. Newton had laughed at the time, asking her who in the media would take seriously the pampered wife of a pro football player? 44

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Dayana had merely smiled back and replied that it wasn’t the media he had to worry about — it was his adoring public. That not so veiled threat pretty much ended that little debate. She watched the moving truck go down the leaf-strewn street and disappear around a curb, when she heard the phone ring. She ran for it and said, “Hello?” “Dayana?” the voice said. “Wendell?” Dayana breathed. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.” “Sorry,” he replied. “I’ve been gone covering a story. Didn’t have a chance to call you before I left.” “I’m glad you’re back,” Dayana smiled. “I’m glad to be back,” Wendell said. “I missed you, Dayana.” “I missed you, too,” she said warmly. “Can you meet me somewhere?” “Absolutely. Where?” Wendell asked. Dayana said, her voice tremulous, “How about my house?” “Give me directions,” Wendell said. Trying to calm down, Dayana gave him directions starting at the club. “I’ll be there in about an hour.” It was only one in the afternoon. The day was drab and dreary. But what was about to happen 45

Jon Bradbury inside would be powerful enough to light up neon signs for miles. Dayana waited for Wendell inside the door way, wearing her favorite knee length white satin robe with long sleeves, her nails polished clear, her makeup light and natural, including glossy root beer colored lipstick. She was barefoot. Under her robe, she wore nothing. Her breasts were visible through the thin material. She saw him finally pull up to the curb and she ran over to him, hugged him tight and kissed him over and over again. “Did you miss me?” Wendell said, after she had pulled back. “Oh, baby,” she laughed. “Did I ever. I missed you so much. I love you.” “I love you, too,” Wendell said, holding her. “What were you gone so long to cover?” “Sorry about that,” Wendell apologized. “Didn’t mean to worry you. It was a motorcycle race. Had to stay for the whole weekend.” “No apologies,” Dayana smiled. “Come on into the house.” She took his hand and led him inside. Wendell looked around. “Wow. Nice house.” Dayana closed the door, then she led him by the hand past the kitchen and into the living room, to the huge brown sectional. “Have a seat, baby.” “Thanks,” Wendell said as he plopped down. Dayana eased next to him and sat in his lap. “I 46

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords guess you’ve heard all about what happened with Eddie and me.” Wendell nodded. “Yeah. It was difficult not to have heard.” Dayana chuckled a little. “I really didn’t want you to find out that way.” Wendell shrugged. “Occupational hazard.” “I was going to call you about your article. I read it and I liked it.” “You did?” Wendell said. “Yes, I did,” Dayana smiled. “Except I kind of wish you had warned me I was going to be in it so much.” They both cracked up. Wendell grinned. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Dayana slipped off his tweed blazer. Then she pushed lightly on his chest with her fingertips so he was sitting back against the cushions. She straddled him. “You don’t seem too terribly mad at me,” he observed. Dayana gently shook her head. “Love you too much to be mad at you.” “I’m glad,” he told her, holding her by the waist. “You haven’t been meeting other women at that club, have you?” Dayana settled down over him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Not many 47

Jon Bradbury women like you, Dayana.” Dayana smiled and touched his face with the tips of her nails. “Not many men like you, either,” she whispered. Dayana leaned in and kissed him full on the lips. When they kissed, no other world existed for Wendell, except for the cool soft lips on his, lightly touching his. Her soft fingers, lightly touching his face. After ten minutes of just kissing, Dayana pulled back some, caught her breath. “Oh, baby,” Dayana said lightly. “Looks like it’s going to be a long afternoon.” She kissed him again, rubbing herself against him. “Think you can handle it?” “Don’t know,” Wendell grinned. “But I’d like to take a shot at it.” Dayana smiled at him, a hint of what was to come. “Hit me with your best shot.”

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even months later: Dayana Marie Boucher woke up, and didn’t know where she was at first. But familiarity came with wakefulness — she was in Wendell’s townhouse, in the top floor bedroom. She recognized the sloped ceiling, tilting down towards the windows right next to the bed. She settled back down into Wendell’s huge queen size bed, and smiled. Stretching sensuously under the sheets, she decided she could stay in Wendell’s bed all day. She was quite comfortable in the huge bed — quite naked, and quite satisfied. She laid back down, pulled the covers up to her chin, stared at the ceiling, and smiled, at the memories she had of the last two weeks — and of last night. Wendell had been able to take his vacation time before the start of the college basketball playoffs, even though they hadn’t gone very many places, Dayana thought, blushing brightly. They had elected to stay at Wendell’s 49

Jon Bradbury townhouse instead, and explore each other. And last night, Wendell had done some very thorough exploration indeed. Over the last few months, their relationship had become very passionate, even more than it was when they first met, especially after the first time she had spent the night at his place. Dayana had no memories to chase out of Wendell’s townhouse, no ghosts to banish. And so when Wendell invited her to stay at his place while he had his two weeks’ vacation, she had gladly agreed. That was on the same day that her divorce had become finalized. Their lovemaking that night was very emotional. As she turned to see what time it was — almost ten — Wendell came up the stairs and into the room, fully dressed in a golf shirt and slacks, carrying a plate in one hand. “Oh, good,” he said. “You are awake.” He sat down on the bed next to her. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Dayana sat up in bed against the pillows, holding the sheets against her chest. “Good morning.” She took the plate and practically attacked it. “Thanks. Hungry,” she said sheepishly, her mouth full. Wendell chuckled. “After last night? I would think so.” Dayana blushed. As she ate, she said, “It’s too 50

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords bad your vacation time has to end. I was beginning to get used to living here with you.” “Who says you have to leave?” Wendell asked her. Dayana reached over and squeezed his hand. “You’re not sick of me?” Wendell grinned. “I would never get sick of having you here.” “You’re sweet,” Dayana smiled. “But be careful — I might just move in with you.” Wendell shrugged a little. “You might as well. A lot of your stuff is here.” “I know,” Dayana said. “I was thinking about moving out of the house, anyway.” “You were going to meet your real estate agent today, right?” “Right,” Dayana nodded. “This afternoon.” “What were you going do, anyway?” “With the house?” Dayana said, as she ate. “What I really want to do is sell it. But I’m not sure.” “Whatever you decide, I’ll be here,” he said. “What would you like me to decide?” she said softly. “Sell the house. Move in with me, Dayana,” Wendell said, before he could take it back. “If it’s too soon for you, I’ll understand.” Dayana was speechless. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. 51

Jon Bradbury “I guess that means it’s not too soon,” Wendell chuckled. “Yes,” Dayana smiled, trying not to cry. “I want to move in with you.” They spent the next ten minutes kissing. “Now that we’ve decided that,” Wendell grinned. “What else were you going to do today?” he asked. “Get a job, hopefully,” Dayana sighed. Wendell nodded. “I kind of figured that’s who you were on the phone with.” Dayana nodded too. “Yeah. I actually called a place and made an appointment with them.” She picked up her plate again. “I hope you’re not mad at me.” “No,” Wendell replied. “Of course I’m not mad. But I want you to get this job because you want to, not because you have to.” Dayana smiled at him. “I would love nothing more than to stay here at home all day and be waiting for you when you come home,” she said. “But I need to have somewhere to go, Wendell.” Wendell nodded. “I know the feeling. Break a leg.” Dayana laughed a little. “Thanks.” “I guess I’d better be going,” Wendell sighed. “It’s too bad you have to go back to work, too.” Wendell chuckled. “Yeah. But my vacation time is up.” And, he didn’t say, the sight of her, naked 52

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords in his bed, made it very tempting to just call in sick. Dayana squeezed his hand. “I know. But the least I can do is give you a proper send off.” And with that, she put her plate on the night stand, and slipped between Wendell’s legs. As she unzipped his fly, Wendell grinned and chuckled. “Uhhhmmm... You realize I might be late for work?” Dayana chuckled too, and grinned a devilish grin. “Yeah. But just think about how good you’ll feel.” She started stroking his cock very lightly with French style fingernails that were still long and perfect — she still liked to have her nails done. She noted his strong, healthy erection in response to her light scratching. “Does that feel good?” Wendell gasped. “Dayana, you know that does.” She lightly licked the pink head of his cock, traced the tip of her tongue along his shaft, down to the hilt, back up to the head, and then took his cock in her mouth and began sucking. Dayana got nearly as much enjoyment out of this as he did. She tried her best to tease it out as long as she could, but before too long, Wendell left for work with a satisfied grin. **** 53

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Dayana Boucher walked into the lobby, on the ground floor of the office building. She had just arrived for her job interview, surprised that she had even gotten this far. Being a housewife for seven years hadn’t done very much for her job skills. About the only thing she had going for her was that Edward had seen fit to buy a computer early in their marriage, and the computer test they’d had her take was easy. The job she hoped to get was for customer service over the phone. Hoping she looked more confident than she felt, dressed in a knee length black skirt, knee high black leather boots with stiletto heels, and a black turtleneck sweater, she walked across the lobby to the reception desk, her boots clicking solidly on the grey marble floor. The pretty blonde secretary smiled at her. “Hi, can I help you?” “Yes, I’m Dayana Boucher, I have an appointment for an interview.” The pretty secretary looked in her computer. “Why yes, Miss Boucher, here you are. I’ll let our Human Resources people know you’re here. Won’t you have a seat?” Dayana smiled her thanks, then sat down on the couch nearby, and casually crossed her legs. She saw the newspaper sitting on the coffee table, 54

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords so she picked it up and started leafing through it. She had decided to skip the sports section, but then a small teaser headline caught her attention. She flipped open the sports section. It was short and sweet, she saw, not even a full article, just a short paragraph on the Sports Briefs page. There was even a photo of her ex — with the same girl Dayana had caught him with on that day seven months ago. Dayana knew she would never forget that woman’s face — even if she didn’t know her name. “Edward Newton just can’t seem to escape his run of bad luck,” she read silently, “which began with his divorce from his former wife, Dayana Boucher. Now it seems that his new fiancee, Renee Watkins, a cheerleader with the same team, has given back the engagement ring he gave her. “Sources for the team are staying tight-lipped,” the story continued. “But the captain of the team cheerleading squad says Miss Watkins remains terribly distraught and is seeking to transfer with another cheerleading team that the corporation owns.” Dayana Boucher dropped the newspaper on the wooden coffee table with a loud slap. Now she finally knew the name of the girl that was between his legs that day. She couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the girl. Then a female voice said, “Miss Boucher?” 55

Jon Bradbury Dayana looked up and smiled. “Yes.” “Come on back with me.” Dayana abandoned the newspaper, grabbed her purse and went over to where the lady stood. The past was past — it was time for the future.

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ayana Boucher got out of her car wearing a smile. She was smiling because she got the job. For her new job, she would sit all day and say in a perky voice, “Thank you for calling, my name is Dayana, how can I help you?” It made her smirk a little, but she was grateful to say she had a job. She started Monday. Dayana knew for sure that she didn’t want a job at the stadium, or anything at all involving professional sports. There was nothing sports related to worry about with this job — it was a mail order place for music and movies. She was afraid she wouldn’t remember where anything was in the stadium, since she hadn’t been there in months. But she still knew her way around the place by heart. She soon found herself in the cheerleaders’ locker room. One of the blonde girls came out, holding a 57

Jon Bradbury towel against her scrubbed-pink skin, still slick and wet. “Excuse me,” Dayana stopped her. “Is Renee still here?” The girl started drying her hair with another towel. “Yeah, she’s in the shower,” she said, and went breezily on her way. Dayana stood there and waited, not really knowing what she was doing here, or even what she was going to say. But finally Renee Watkins came out of the shower, a towel around her slim figure, although the towel had trouble fitting around her cleavage. Her body was non stop curves, large breasts on a small but stocky frame. She was a lovely girl, by any definition of the term, although facially, she was adorable rather than pretty. Her skin was lighter than Dayana’s skin by at least a couple of shades, her hair was a lovely medium shade of brunette with light brown highlights, and her eyes were baby brown. Dayana opened her mouth to say something, but the girl stopped and stared at her. Dayana didn’t know what to expect, but was surprised when Renee simply said, “You must be Dayana.” “Yes,” Dayana replied. “And you must be Renee.” “Uh huh,” the girl nodded. “Nice to meet you, officially.” Dayana nodded. “And you, too,” she said. “It’s a pity we didn’t get to meet under better 58

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords circumstances.” Renee Watkins smiled briefly. “I suppose you’ve seen the newspaper article?” “It was hard not to,” Dayana said in a neutral but sympathetic tone. Renee laughed a little. She said sadly, “I guess we have something in common.” “Yeah,” Dayana nodded. Overcome with curiosity, she asked, very gently, “Who did you catch him with?” “How did you know?” Renee asked softly. Dayana shrugged, a tiny movement of her shoulder. “It’s how we met.” Renee smirked. “With a white girl,” she scoffed. “You’re kidding, right?” Dayana was at once surprised, but not really. Renee shook her head. “Nope, wish I was. Blonde-haired and blue-eyed.” Dayana laughed suddenly. “I guess we sisters are too much woman for him.” Renee laughed, too. “I guess so. It still hurts.” “Yeah,” Dayana said softly. “But the best revenge is living without him.” “How did you do that?” Renee asked. Dayana was unexpectedly overcome with sympathy. She put her arms around the soft naked brown shoulders of the cheerleader. “With the help of friends. And finding someone new.” “You want to be my friend?” Renee asked, in a 59

Jon Bradbury soft, sad, slightly surprised voice, looking in Dayana’s eyes. “After all that’s happened?” “Yes,” Dayana smiled. “It’s him, not you, baby.” Dayana gently drew Renee towards her, gave her a soft hug, rubbed her back. Renee Watkins found herself crying in the arms of Dayana Boucher, but not for long. Dayana continued to hold her. They shared a kiss and another long comforting hug. Renee finally pulled away slightly. “Thank you. I needed that.” Dayana took a scrap of paper and a pen out of her little black leather drawstring purse, and wrote her cell phone number on it. “Like I said, having a life, without him, is the best revenge that I can think of. If you’d rather us not be friends though, I’ll understand.” “No,” Renee said, “I mean — yes — I mean, you know what I mean.” The women shared a relieved giggle. “I’d love for us to be friends.” Dayana handed her the scrap of paper. “I’m glad we agree. If you’d like, maybe you can join Wendell and I for dinner tonight.” Renee smiled shakily. “Maybe,” she said. “How is it being with a reporter? Don’t you get tired of watching sports all the time?” “Nope,” Dayana said, smiling widely. “What’s his name?” Renee said, girl to girl. “Wendell,” Dayana said proudly. “He must have really rocked your world,” 60

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Renee said, grinning. Dayana nodded her head, smiling. “Did you know Wendell is white?” “No,” Renee said, very surprised. “I’ve never gone for white meat. How is it?” Dayana smiled naughtily. “It’s not bad!” “I’m happy for you,” Renee said sincerely. “Being with Edward, I know he must have been a terrible partner to you.” “You could say that,” Dayana said quietly. “I just hope Edward doesn’t try to interfere,” Renee said. “He’s good at that.” “Nobody is going to try to interfere,” Dayana assured her. “But I will call you. I’d like us to have lunch sometime.” “I would like that, too,” Dayana smiled. “Just the two of us girls.” “I’ll call you later,” Renee promised. “Right now I have some stuff to do — and I need to get dressed.” Dayana smiled sheepishly. “Yes. Of course you do. I need to get going, too. Take care of yourself.” As Dayana left the locker room, Renee looked at the scrap of paper with Dayana Boucher’s phone number and address on it. She nearly threw it away. But something told her to keep it. So she did.

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endell arrived at work, on time, with just a minute to spare. On his way to his cubicle he exchanged pleasantries with a dozen other reporters. The male reporters exchanged high fives and chuckled over the juicier details of his two weeks away. He sat down at his cubicle and spent the next forty-five minutes catching up on two week’s worth of company emails. He had hardly finished reading his email when he heard Pam’s voice say, “Hey, Wendell. Can you come in here for a minute?” Wendell got up and went into her office. He took a moment to goggle over her new look — a fire-engine red blazer with only one button, a miniskirt, with matching high heeled sandals, her hair drawn back in a shiny ponytail, and both her lipstick and the long acrylic nails she wore, were in matching fire engine red. He got a good look at her bare legs as she stood, 62

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords reading something. Finally she sat back down at her desk. But that didn’t help, as her desk was glass now — clear glass, yet. Wendell coughed. “You wanted to see me?” Pam smiled. “Yes, I did. The team is having a press conference, in about forty minutes. I want you there.” “Did they say what it was all about?” “No,” Pam smirked. “But I would imagine that it’s about their trade. It’s all they’ve been talking about for weeks.” “Yeah,” Wendell agreed. “I’m on my way.” Then he was stopped at the door. “Oh, by the way,” Pam smiled, her hand on his arm, “welcome back.” Wendell cleared his throat again. “Thanks.” “What do you think of my new look?” Wendell nodded and grinned. “It looks nice on you.” Pam smiled and returned to her desk. “Thank you. That pass is an all-day pass, by the way. I hope you can grab a good story while you’re there.” “I always do,” Wendell grinned. **** Wendell James sat in silence with his notebook 63

Jon Bradbury ready. The purpose of the press conference wasn’t made public — only that a press conference was going to be held. But it didn’t take a sports reporter to figure out what the conference was for. The local and national press had been all over the story of the team’s negotiations to trade a player with another team, that player being the famous quarterback Skip Taylor, responsible for a stunning last-second game-winning pass in the playoffs last season, to clinch a wild card spot out of nowhere, for a team that was basically unknown. It had been an NFL Cinderella story for the ages. The story, that both teams were equally amicable about the trade, was just as well-known, and it was agreed in press circles, that the trade was just a matter of time. The guy next to him muttered, “Why don’t they just announce the damn trade?” Wendell leaned over. “It’s the NFL, man.” They both chuckled, as the head coach came out and stood behind the podium. “Looks like it’s starting.” “Thank you for coming, everyone,” the head coach said, who was a man of fifty-four years, but with only a touch of gray. Everyone quieted, and cameras were geared up. “For those of you who don’t know, we’ve been in trade negotiations with another team.” A few reporters chuckled a little at 64

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords the subtle joke. “Well, I’m here today, to announce, that those trade negotiations have been successful.” A young man with short curly brown hair came on the stage to join with the head coach. Flashbulbs flashed, cameras clicked and whirred. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I’d like to introduce our new quarterback, Skip Taylor.” Flashbulbs continued to flash as the coach presented Skip with his official team jersey. “He sure knows how to create a media moment,” Wendell chuckled. **** A little while later, the reporters got a real treat — they saw the new quarterback throw a few practice passes on the field with his new team, who was as electrifying in practice as he was during games. After practice, Wendell found himself face to face with Skip Taylor, who seemed smaller somehow without his uniform on, only in black shorts, and white ankle socks, his shoes and shirt off. Shit, that man has muscles coming out the yin yang, Wendell thought enviously. Wendell introduced himself and said, “So, how does it feel so far?” 65

Jon Bradbury Skip cracked a megawatt grin. “Pretty good, actually,” he said in a Middle America accent. “These guys are all very talented, and we’re all on the same page. So I think it’s going to be a good fit.” “I’m glad you think so,” another player observed, in a light tone. He was a black man with a clean bald head, a tightly packed physique with ripped muscles like Skip’s, and mahogany skin. The three men chuckled deeply. Wendell grinned. “Hey, Tony.” At that moment, Edward Newton strode brusquely from the room, going out of his way to pass rudely in between the three of them, pompously over dressed in a grey three piece suit. “What the hell is his problem?” Tony asked. “I don’t know,” Wendell said in a speculative tone, “but I think it might have something to do with me.” “Yeah, what’s up? I hear you and Dayana are getting cozy,” Tony grinned. Wendell grinned too. “Yeah, definitely cozy. I asked Dayana to move in.” “Congrats, man,” Tony said. “Dayana deserves a great guy like you, not that asshole Newton.” “Thanks a lot, man, appreciate it.” “Hey,” Tony grinned, “if you guys need help, you call us. Especially if you need any financial help. We mean it.” The other players seconded 66

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords that. “Thanks a lot, guys,” Wendell grinned. “I won’t forget it.” He looked at his watch and said, “Well, I must be going, gentlemen. As always, it was fun.” He handed Skip and Tony one of his cards. “Feel free to give me a call.” “Later, Wendell,” Tony said as Wendell left. He turned to Skip and said, “Man, that dude is lucky as hell. I just hope Newton don’t fuck it up for him.” Skip nodded. “I heard about that. Dayana used to be Newton’s wife, right?” “Right,” Tony said. “We never pass up a chance to remind him, either.” Skip cracked a grin. “Bet he appreciates that.” “Dayana is a higher class of woman than he deserves,” Tony explained. Skip went to stand up to get undressed for his shower, then nearly stepped on a bottle. He picked up a white plastic bottle from the floor, next to Newton’s locker. Then he looked at it, and cracked up. “Shit, man,” he said, still laughing. “Check this out.” Tony looked at the bottle, and cracked up, too. “Viagra! Shit, this muthafucka takes Viagra!” Skip saw Tony’s expression change. Something just went click. “I wonder if it’s too late to call Wendell back?” Skip shook his head. “Naw, man, it’s his private 67

Jon Bradbury business. Let’s leave it.” The other guys grumbled and chuckled, then finally relented. But they all agreed that it was too good an opportunity to pass up, not to have some fun with it themselves.

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aving made a new friend today, Dayana got out of her car and walked into the real estate office with a warm feeling. She quickly found her friend Marianne Carpenter, who was the agent that originally got them the house in the first place. Marianne was a lovely woman with bright green eyes and long blonde hair, who was dressed in a neutral real estate suit that was neither prudish nor sexy, in a neutral tan color, as was her nails and lipstick. They sat down in Marianne’s office. “Now, Dayana, are you absolutely sure that you want to sell? It’s a very lovely home that will only increase in value.” Dayana sighed. “Yes, it is, quite beautiful. But it has too many memories in it.” It was no longer a home for Dayana. Marianne smiled sympathetically. “I understand.” She went and got a thick folder from a file drawer. “Do you know if both of you are still 69

Jon Bradbury on the deed?” Dayana shrugged. “Well, the divorce decree says that any proceeds from the sale of the house are to be split between us.” Marianne nodded her understanding. Dayana nervously smoothed down her skirt. “I can’t believe I still have that man in my life.” Marianne patted Dayana’s hand reassuringly. “He’s on his way over. You’ll soon find out one way or the other.” The divorce only recently became final but Dayana and her now ex-husband were still sorting out stuff, like property. Dayana only wanted to be rid of the house, rid of anything that reminded her of him. Suddenly they heard loud hip-hop music. Dayana rolled her eyes. Marianne giggled through her hand. Dayana looked at her. “Have you ever been with a black man?” “No,” Marianne shook her head. “All brothers care about is bling bling, standing out from the crowd in some way.” “Really?” Marianne smirked. “I’ve never experienced it.” “On some brothers it’s sweet,” Dayana conceded. “But on Eddie it’s sickening.” Soon Newton himself stepped inside the office. He was still the same as ever, Dayana saw, six feet tall and ten feet wide, his head still bald. He was over-dressed, as usual, in a gray three-piece 70

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords pinstriped suit and shiny black shoes. He came in, sat down, and nodded at Marianne, like an aristocrat would to a serf. “Hello, Eddie,” Dayana said simply. “Dayana,” he said in an odd tone. “I see you’re keeping well.” “I’m keeping very well, thank you,” Dayana smiled. “And I see you haven’t changed much, either.” Newton didn’t know how to take that. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Let’s get on with it. I’ve got places to go.” Marianne cleared her throat, too, and opened the folder on her desk. “Okay,” she said. “As I understand it, you’re both here to authorize the sale of the house.” “Right,” Dayana said. “Great,” Marianne smiled. “Now, since the court order decrees both of you will get the proceeds, both of you will be signing the authorization form.” “Great,” Dayana nodded. But Edward produced a manila envelope from his jacket pocket. “Not so fast,” he said. “I don’t think you’ve got a right to any proceeds. Especially after that check I wrote for you last year. Did you spend the whole thing already, Dayana?” “No,” Dayana replied, gritting her teeth. 71

Jon Bradbury “Maybe not,” he said. Then he opened the envelope. “But I happen to know you were shacked up with some dude while we were still married.” And then he slapped the photos on the desk. The prints were black and white, and shot from a distance — but the images were all too clear. The photo on top was of Dayana giving Wendell a big hug, wearing just her white satin robe, the same day that Edward had moved out. The next photo, she was giving him a kiss. The next, she led him by the hand into the house. Newton tsk’ed at her self-righteously, shaking his head. “Dayana. How could you? With this reporter? And to think that I was civil to this punk.” Dayana looked at Edward Newton with hate in her eyes. “I think I’ve got every right to get all the proceeds from the sale,” he said, standing up. “In fact, I think I might even file court papers to ask for the settlement back.” He nodded to Marianne. “I’ll be back on Friday to sign the papers.” Dayana sighed hard, loudly exhaling. “I see that you’ve forgotten who discovered who getting a blow job from another woman. The same woman who apparently broke off the engagement today.” Newton’s eyes bugged out slightly. He said, 72

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords “That don’t prove nothing, Dayana.” “The media hasn’t found out how you mistreated me,” Dayana retorted. “Yet.” Newton stood up and tapped the photos. “And nobody has seen these. Yet.” He put on his top hat. “I would hate to end someone’s career with a few photos. I hope by the end of the week that you’ve seen reason. See you then.” He went back out to his car and got in, full of himself. He saw his duffle bag and rummaged through it, and was rather shocked to find only one bottle of Viagra inside. He could have sworn there were two. Then he remembered he’d left a bottle in his locker. He drove away, thinking the universe was still in his pocket, after all — a common outlook for professional athletes. He didn’t know that his universe was about to turn against him.

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enee finished putting her things in a duffle bag, and then went down the hall to turn in her uniform, dressed in a simple tummy baring white t-shirt, and low-waisted jeans with flip-flops, her long hair flowing behind her. She dumped her uniform in the laundry basket, knowing that the girl from the basketball squad who wanted to transfer to football, would be wearing it by the end of the week. She dumped her uniform in, then turned around — — And nearly bumped into a busty blondehaired girl. Renee jumped terribly. The blonde jumped too. “Sorry,” she said. Renee picked up her duffle bag and started walking fast. “For scaring me, or taking my fiancé?” “I said I was sorry,” the girl protested, trying to keep up with Renee’s long strides. “What more do you want?” “My pride,” Renee said simply. She kept right 74

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords on walking. Trisha called after her, “You don’t have to leave to another team!” Renee suddenly stopped walking and faced the girl. Trisha Underwood was the perfect example of a cheerleader, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, with plenty of her own curves, but her figure still couldn’t compare to Renee’s, even on her best day. “You know what, Trisha? You can have him. I don’t care anymore.” And she kept right on walking, but then stopped again. “And I’ve been wanting to go another team anyway. So it’s not entirely because of you.” And then she started walking again. Driven by some odd impulse, she went to the men’s locker room, down the hall and to the left. She peeked her head around the corner to see if anyone was there. She jumped terribly again when a good natured mid-western voice said, “I think you’ve got the wrong locker room, ma’am.” Renee turned, and saw a man standing there, wearing a red hooded sweatshirt and fleece cargo pants, sandals with white socks. He stood about five-nine, weighed a good solid one-eighty-five, and had short curly brown hair. Cute, she thought. “It’s been a while since anybody’s called me ma’am,” she said dryly. “You must be from the Mid-west, too.” “Born and bred,” Skip nodded. “Sorry if I 75

Jon Bradbury scared you.” “No problem,” Renee sighed. “You just sneaked up on me.” “Just trying to help,” the guy grinned. “You look lost.” “Not really,” she smirked. “I was just trying to see if Eddie Newton was still here.” “Nope,” he said easily. “He left before everyone else. Had some kind of an appointment, I guess.” “Oh,” Renee sighed. She seemed to deflate a little. “Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked, smiling that megawatt smile. “No, thank you,” Renee smiled. “I was just hoping that I might be able to see if I left anything of mine with Eddie before I left this place. I won’t be coming back.” “That’s too bad,” the guy said, still with an easy tone. “I was just starting to get to know everybody.” “Oh, you must be the new quarterback,” Renee realized. She extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Renee.” “Hi,” he nodded, taking it gently. “Skip Taylor. How you doing?” Renee smiled a little wider, but it fell flat. “I’m fine, I suppose. I don’t know.” Skip gave her a sympathetic look, without looking like he felt sorry for her. “Relationships are tough sometimes,” he said, sounding wiser 76

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords than his age. “We all take wrong turns.” Renee tried to smile, but didn’t make it. “I guess. Where did I take a wrong turn?” Skip tried to smile too, and didn’t make it. “You didn’t,” he said quietly. “From what I’ve heard from the guys, Edward Newton is not a good man.” Renee finally smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I guess that means I must be a good woman after all.” “Of course you are,” Skip said quietly. “Thanks,” Renee smiled. “So I guess you’re going to the City Forum tomorrow?” “Right,” she nodded. “I’m looking forward to it. There are some friends of mine I went to school with on the basketball team’s cheerleading squad. So it should be fun.” Skip nodded. “It’s always good to have friends at work. Speaking of which, I just came to the city and I have no clue where any good places to eat are. You know of any?” Renee finally smiled a real smile, that reached her eyes. “Haven’t been here very long, have you?” “Nope,” Skip shook his head. “Couple of days, maybe.” “You staying in a hotel?” she asked sympathetically. 77

Jon Bradbury “Nope,” Skip sighed. “Coach found me an apartment, just haven’t had the courage to unpack yet.” “Sure, I’ll show you around the city,” she said. “I might even cook you some real food. Let me just put my stuff in my car. Would you walk with me?” “Sure,” he nodded. “But would you like to check Eddie’s locker?” “While I’m here,” Renee sighed, “I might as well. But I don’t know his combination.” “Not to worry,” Skip unexpectedly grinned. Renee laughed as they went over to Newton’s locker. That was when Renee noticed the bottle on the floor, and picked it up. “I don’t believe this,” she whispered. “Viagra!” Suddenly she cackled loudly. “Now I know why he always had to go to the bathroom before we had sex.” Renee looked at him and said, “Does anybody else know about this?” “Just the whole team,” Skip grinned. “There was a reporter here earlier, but he left before we found this.” “I think we might want to give that reporter a call,” she said. “This is Newton’s business,” Skip objected. “Whatever we might think of him, his business is his business.” 78

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Renee gave him a grudging look of respect. “Look, I think it’s great that you want to take the high road. But you said it yourself, Edward Newton is not a good man. I think he might try to interfere with Dayana’s relationship.” “I’ve still got that reporter’s card,” Skip nodded. He pulled out his cell phone and then found Wendell’s card. Renee gently rubbed his back in tiny circles as he dialed. “Wendell James,” a voice answered. “Hey, Wendell,” Skip said. “It’s Skip Taylor.” “Skip! What’s up, man?” “Can we meet for a minute in the stadium parking lot?” Skip said. “I think I might have something you’ll be interested in.”

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ayana turned the knob of Wendell’s townhouse door, seeing nothing but the red haze. She had no idea how she was going to break this to him, the love of her life. Dayana had driven around aimlessly for nearly an hour after she had left the real estate office, then decided to drive home. She wasn’t any closer to deciding how to tell him about all this, than when she left Marianne’s office. The resulting scandal, if the photos were released, would affect his professional life — he would not only lose his job, but would never be trusted as a reporter again. She couldn’t bear that. She stepped inside, her boots clicking on the hardwood floor, closed the door and turned around, to see Wendell with a huge grin. He had changed clothes, from his work clothes, to a more casual blue turtleneck sweater and baggy jeans, with sandals. He came over and gave Dayana a comforting hug. 80

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords “How was your day, baby?” Dayana asked slowly. She could barely form words. “Interesting,” Wendell nodded. “How about yours?” “Interesting,” Dayana replied, not knowing what else to say. “Feel like going somewhere?” Wendell asked her. “Sure,” Dayana shrugged. “Where?” “You’ll see,” Wendell promised. He took her hand gently. “There’s something I should tell you,” Dayana said slowly in a low, sick voice. “I think I can guess,” Wendell replied. “Your ex, right?” “Right,” Dayana nodded glumly. “I think we got something to spoil his party,” Wendell said confidently. “Baby,” Dayana sniffed. “He’s got photos.” Wendell frowned. “Photos? You mean of us?” “Yes,” Dayana nodded tearfully. “Of the day you came to see me.” Wendell patted her hand. “Don’t worry, Dayana. It’s going to be alright.” “How do you suppose that?” Dayana asked, on the verge of tears. “Skip just called me,” he explained. “Skip?” Dayana asked. “Skip who?” “Skip Taylor,” Wendell smiled. “He’s the new 81

Jon Bradbury quarterback. He says he’s got something on Newton.” “What’s that?” Dayana asked. “I can’t imagine,” Wendell shrugged. “But we’ll soon find out.” He tried to move towards the door, but Dayana stopped him. Her lower lip trembled. A single tear flowed down her cheek. “Baby … I’m so afraid.” Wendell gently wiped away her tear. “Don’t be,” he whispered. “But I am,” Dayana sniffed. “Of you losing your career, of that one thing you’re most passionate about.” “You mean, besides you?” Wendell asked quietly. Dayana blushed and looked away bashfully. “Let’s go upstairs,” she said. “I want to change clothes first.” “Okay,” Wendell nodded. Dayana took his hand, and led him upstairs. Once upstairs in the bedroom, which basically took the entire second floor, she stepped into his arms and kissed him. “I love you so much, baby,” she said softly. “I love you, too,” Wendell said quietly. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. Especially by my ex-husband.” “I know,” Wendell said again. He kissed her again. “Come on. Let’s get you changed so we can 82

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords meet Skip.” “Pick something, baby,” Dayana said. “You love dressing me.” She sat down on the bed and unzipped her boots, taking them off with a sigh, wiggling her feet. She slipped off her skirt and sweater. He took her favorite off the rack: a pink velour hooded top and pants. “How about these?” he asked. “That’s fine, baby,” she smiled. “How about some underwear?” Wendell chuckled and blushed. He went to the dresser drawer he had saved just for her things and pulled out something he’d never seen her wear — a sexy white lace bra and matching bikini cut panties. “How about these?” Dayana looked at them, then at him. “Help me put them on?” She stood up, and held on to him as he tugged the panties up her legs and finally into place. Then she took the bra, and held it against her as Wendell clasped it for her. They fit just like the first time she wore them. “How do I look?” she asked very softly. “Why haven’t you worn these before?” Wendell asked instead. “You look beautiful, Dayana.” Dayana smiled at him, a fresh tear running down her cheek. “Thank you.” She stepped closer to him and gave him a long hug. “Are you okay?” Wendell rubbed her back. She 83

Jon Bradbury was trembling. She sniffed and said, “I originally bought these to surprise my ex-husband.” Wendell nodded. “The night we first met?” “Yes,” Dayana nodded. Wendell held Dayana a long time. Then he kissed her and said, “I hate to ruin the moment, but Skip is waiting for me.” “Yes,” Dayana said. “Of course.” She rapidly got dressed and followed him down the stairs and out the door. “What do you think he’s got?” Dayana asked, as they drove to the stadium. “I have no idea,” Wendell admitted. “It must be something juicy to call you like this,” Dayana observed. Wendell didn’t say anything more until they pulled into the parking lot around the stadium. But his instincts told him Dayana was right — it had to be good. “Ah,” Wendell said. “There he is.” Wendell recognized Skip Taylor even from afar. He parked a couple spaces away from Skip’s car and got out. Dayana was surprised to see Renee with him, and got out, too. “Glad you could make it,” Skip nodded. “Good to see you again, Dayana,” Renee smiled. “I see you’ve taken my advice to heart,” 84

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Dayana said to Renee. Renee smiled a little wider. “You could say that.” Dayana fluttered her eyelashes real fast. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” “Skip Taylor,” the guy said, extending his hand. “Dayana Boucher,” Dayana smiled back, taking his hand. “It’s an honor to finally meet you,” Skip said. “How so?” Dayana asked, quizzically. “Everybody says what a classy lady you are,” Skip replied. “They are right.” Dayana blushed. “You’re very sweet, Skip.” “So, what’s this little matter that you wanted to talk to me about?” Wendell asked, getting them back on the business at hand. “This,” Renee said, holding up the white plastic bottle and shaking it. “But what this is, isn’t so important, as who it belongs to,” Skip grinned. “Who?” Wendell asked. “Look at the label,” Renee suggested, handing Wendell the white plastic bottle. “Shit,” Wendell chuckled. “I don’t believe this.” “Believe what?” Dayana asked, impatiently. “What is it?” Wendell showed her the bottle. She began to laugh, too. Then she gave both Renee and Skip a big hug. “Thank you, both. We really appreciate 85

Jon Bradbury this.” “It was the least I could do,” Renee said. “Well, the timing couldn’t be better,” Dayana observed. “Why do you say that?” Skip said. “Edward did something terrible today,” Dayana sniffed. She could hardly bear to talk about it. Her throat got tight. “What happened?” Renee asked. “At the real estate office,” Dayana choked. “He showed me some photos.” “Let me guess,” Skip said. “Of you and Wendell here?” Dayana couldn’t speak. She only nodded. Renee looked at Skip. “See? I told you, didn’t I?” “Yeah,” Skip nodded. Then he said, “Excuse me for a minute.” He took out his cell phone and went off by himself. Dayana took Renee’s hands and pulled her over. “Can you come over to my real estate agent’s office tomorrow?” she asked. “Really give him something to think about?” Renee smiled a somewhat nasty smile. “Sure. I’d love to.” Wendell looked at Dayana. “Feel like going to my office?” “Sure,” Dayana shrugged. From the stadium, they drove back to 86

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords Wendell’s office building. The office was pretty empty, as the reporters there were all busy monitoring the NCAA men’s basketball playoffs. But fortunately, he found Pam Easton before she left. She looked at her watch. “Forget something, Wendell?” “You could say that,” Wendell said. Pam couldn’t help but notice Dayana. “Is this the lucky lady?” Pam smiled. Wendell said, “Pam, meet Dayana Boucher. Dayana, meet my boss, Pam.” Pam extended her hands to Dayana. “Oh, so nice to finally meet you, girl,” she smiled, drawing Dayana towards her for a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek, leaving a red lipstick print. “Likewise,” Dayana smiled. “Oh, I love this manicure. Where’d you get it?” The two women discussed manicures for a few minutes. Then Pam looked at Wendell. “I know you didn’t come back here to introduce your honey to me so we could girl bond and talk about our nails. What’s up?” “I picked up a good story at the stadium today.” “Really?” Pam asked. “What is it?” Wendell handed her the plastic Viagra bottle. “This.” “My, my, my,” she murmured, looking at the bottle. “Our boy Newton can’t get it up. Poor little 87

Jon Bradbury baby.” She looked at Wendell, frothing at the mouth. “You realize what a story this is?” “Believe me,” Wendell grinned. “I do. But I want to sit on it.” “For how long?” Pam asked professionally. “For twenty-four hours,” Wendell suggested. “Obviously, I want to verify this.” “Of course,” Pam smiled. “What then?” “If the story checks out, I think maybe you should give it to another reporter, with me as a contributor. I’ve been wanting to get in on the NCAA tournament coverage anyway.” Pam Easton clicked her long red fingernails on the bottle, considering. “Okay,” Pam finally replied. “You have twenty four hours to verify this story, fact-finding only.” “Deal,” Wendell grinned. Wendell quietly made a few phone calls to some inside sources he knew, who revealed that Edward Newton had indeed been written a prescription for Viagra by the team doctor, and that it had been handled at a local pharmacy. That pharmacist had a few extra hundred dollars in his pocket to never tell a soul. “Well?” Dayana said, scratching Wendell’s back. “Is it true?” Pam had left nearly 20 minutes ago. “Yep,” Wendell said, grinning that same wicked grin. 88

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords She looked at Wendell with a small smile. “Let’s get back home and have dinner. I’m starving.” Wendell took her hand and led her out of the office. Wendell sat on his couch, his bare feet propped up on the ottoman, watching TV, with Dayana stretched across the couch, also barefoot, her head in his lap. After dinner, they had gone to the living room to talk and relax. Wendell had turned on the TV. They had both agreed to avoid the sports channels. Wendell put on a DVD movie that both of them liked. But before the movie started, he said, “Dayana?” “Yes, baby?” Dayana smiled up at him. “I know you’re worried,” he said. “But we’ve got a whole NFL team on our side. Nobody can beat us.” Dayana laughed. “Nobody, baby.” She took his hand and kissed it. Wendell took her hand and squeezed it. He looked in her eyes. Dayana reached up and stroked his face. “What’s wrong, baby?” “Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “Just that I wanted to tell you something.” “What, baby?” she asked softly. “Come on, talk 89

Jon Bradbury to me. Don’t be afraid.” Wendell smiled a little. “This will come out awkward,” he started. “But I just wanted you to know, I’ve never met anyone like you before. Someone who’s doing all this for someone else. And I love you.” Dayana smiled tenderly. “I love you more, baby.” She ran her nails over his chest. “After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do.” She sensed him take a deep breath, like he was steeling himself. Out of nowhere, he held a small velvet box in her view. A diamond solitaire ring sparkled. He took the ring out, took her left hand, and slipped it on her ring finger. “I know I just asked you to move in,” he said. “But how about being my wife?” Dayana lifted herself up on one elbow, slipped her other hand behind his head, and kissed him, a single kiss that spoke a thousand words. “Dayana Marie James. I like the sound of it.”

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wo hours after leaving Wendell and Dayana, Skip and Renee were finally returning to their apartment complex. Renee had been showing him the sights. Skip was really enjoying himself. “It’s not very often I have such a lovely tour guide,” he cracked. Renee laughed. “Thanks. It’s not very often I have such a handsome tourist to show the city to.” Skip grinned back. “Did you say turn here?” “Yep,” Renee nodded. “This is my building here.” “How about that,” Skip said. “My building is over there. This place must be where they stash all the players and cheerleaders at.” “Until they can afford better digs,” Renee nodded. “But I like it here. The team owns it, it’s rent-controlled, and quiet.” “Yeah, it’s pretty cozy,” Skip agreed. “Who did you call, before we left the stadium?” Skip cracked a grin. “Tony Williams. I told him 91

Jon Bradbury what happened.” Renee touched his arm. “Go stash your stuff, then come over to my place.” “Can I just come in?” Skip asked, sounding as tired as he felt. “Sure,” Renee said sympathetically. She opened her door and stepped inside. Skip dropped his duffle bag by the door, and looked around. It was a pretty nice apartment, with the same layout his had. Directly on the left, coming in, was a fairly nice if rather small kitchen with a bar to sit at. Across from the door was a comfy overstuffed green couch facing a TV with a DVD player and a VCR, and over in a corner on the left next to the kitchen was a door that led to the single bedroom. “I hope you don’t mind spaghetti,” she said from the kitchen. “Mind?” Skip repeated. “It’ll be better than hotel or airline food.” “Would you like to watch a movie?” Renee asked. “I’ve got a bunch by the TV, feel free to look through them. Take off your shoes, make yourself at home.” “Okay,” Skip said. He slipped off his sandals and went over to her TV. Next to that was a stack of DVD movies. “You have a lot of movies here,” Skip commented. “Almost as many I do.” “I love movies,” Renee smiled. “Any titles you 92

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords have in there?” “A few,” Skip said. “Quite a few, actually.” “Do you mind if I change clothes?” “Not at all,” Skip said. “It’s your place.” Renee went into her bedroom, but left her door open. She slipped off her jeans and said, “What kind of movies do you like?” “Action, romance, comedy, science fiction, but no horror, thanks.” Renee laughed. “Me, too. I don’t want to be scared for two hours.” “Same here,” Skip called from her living room. “Did you see the Bond movie with Halle Berry?” “No, I didn’t,” Renee called back as she took off her t-shirt. She then put on a purple baby t-shirt and khaki short shorts, that were short enough to show her booty when she bent over. She went to her makeup case, put her hair up in a tight bun with bangs framing her face, applied a light coating of purple lipstick, and then went back into her kitchen to check the sauce. “How was Halle, anyway?” “She was the best Bond girl ever, in my opinion,” Skip replied, coming over to sit at the bar. “All the rest pale in comparison, both literally and figuratively.” Renee laughed good-naturedly. “Yeah, Halle is pretty.” “Well, it wasn’t just that,” Skip said. “She 93

Jon Bradbury wasn’t just there as eye candy, she had a real role in the story, instead of just hanging on his arm all the time and then getting saved, like the usual Bond girl, you know?” “I’m going to have to watch it sometime,” Renee smiled. “If I ever get my stuff unpacked,” Skip cracked, “maybe you can.” Renee laughed out loud as she put some spaghetti in the pot of boiling water. She touched his arm. “Thank you, that’s sweet of you.” She set the pasta to boiling and then checked the sauce, put that burner on low heat. “Did you pick a movie?” Skip held up the one he had chosen. “How about this one?” “Oh, that’s my favorite!” Renee gushed. “Good choice! You have that one, too?” “Yeah,” Skip nodded. “This movie is just hysterical, in addition to the ingenious computer animation.” Renee looked at him as she stirred the spaghetti sauce. “Yeah. I could use a laugh tonight myself.” A couple hours later, Renee pressed the stop button on the DVD player, and took two messy plates over to the kitchen sink. Skip stood up and stretched. “Thanks for dinner and the movie, Renee.” 94

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords “You’re quite welcome,” she smiled as she rinsed off the plates. “I had a nice time.” Renee came back from the kitchen and gave him a quick hug. “I’m glad, so did I.” Skip slowly moved to put his sandals back on. “Do you have to be going so soon?” “I suppose I should be going back to my place,” he sighed. “It’s getting late.” “Not that late,” Renee smiled. She gave him another quick hug, and a kiss on the cheek. “If you want to stay a little longer, I won’t mind.” Skip gently held her hands. “I appreciate that very much,” he said quietly. “I can honestly say that I’m so glad that we met.” Renee damn near blushed, like the mid-western school girl she still was. “Yes. So am I.” She looked away for a second, then back at Skip. “Are you sure you won’t stay for a while longer?” Skip nodded, reluctantly. Renee made a sexy pouting noise. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” he explained. “And I didn’t know how comfortable you would be with the idea of another man in your place so soon.” Renee stroked his arms. “Thanks for the thoughtful gesture,” she said. “But I could use someone to just hold me tonight. Think you can do that?” 95

Jon Bradbury Skip nodded. “Sure. I can do that.” He went back over to the couch and sat down, and Renee gently sat in his lap. “Better?” Renee smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes, thank you,” she replied. She began to massage his shoulders and back again. Skip moaned. “Man, that feels good.” “You’ve got tight muscles,” she observed. “I know this must be stressful, moving to a new city and all.” She ran her nails through his curly hair. “Mmmm,” he smiled, his eyes closed, his head back. They sat, touched each other, talked until Midnight Love came on with steamy videos. Snuggling in his lap, she looked at him in his eyes. “Have you ever been with any black women before?” Skip shook his head, drinking in the sight of beautiful dancers and models on the TV. “Nope. Haven’t had the pleasure. Why?” Renee shrugged. “Just curious. I’ve been thinking about dating white men.” “Change of scenery?” Skip wondered. Renee propped her chin on her palm, her elbow on his shoulder. “Yeah. Something like that.” She traced her fingertips lightly over his jaw line. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?” Skip grinned again. “Well,” he said, modestly. Renee suddenly got up and straddled Skip on the couch, and settled down over him like a 96

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords mother hen. “I don’t know about you,” she whispered, “but I’d like to satisfy my curiosity.” Skip looked deeply in her eyes. He saw hurt feelings, a need to be loved. But he didn’t want to be the rebound guy. “What happened to ‘just hold me’?” he asked, somewhat comically. Renee smiled. “Yeah, I did say that. But I’ve changed my mind.” She touched his face, his cheekbones, his hair, and finally she held his face in her hands, and kissed him. Their kisses were light, awkward, kind of shy, at first. But his stress and her hurt had only one cure — to be loved away. Skip helped her remove her t-shirt, and just stared for a moment, awed by the sight of her beautiful brown cleavage, her breasts so round and full, standing out perkily from her torso. He stroked her breasts, cupped them, felt her nipples harden against his palms. Renee tenderly pressed his face closer and leaned in to him, and he took the proffered nipple and flicked his tongue at it, then finally wrapped his lips around it and gently sucked, first the right nipple, then the left. Renee arched her back and moaned softly. She hadn’t been made love to like this in months. She stood up and quickly wriggled out of her shortshorts, then turned back to him, naked. But suddenly Skip stood up and kissed Renee. 97

Jon Bradbury She nearly melted. He easily scooped her up in his arms and carried her effortlessly into her bedroom, where he laid her gently down on her bed. “Hmm, such strong muscles,” Renee smiled up at him, helping him take off his tracksuit. Soon Skip was naked like Renee, as he removed red trunks. “Come here, you,” she smiled, drawing him towards her. They kissed more passionately now, getting into it, and they kissed and caressed the night away until both were aroused to the perfect pitch. Then Skip decided to park himself in between Renee’s long legs, and proceeded to eat her pussy clean. He licked her pussy lips, he nibbled and sucked on her clit, he did everything he knew how to do to a woman’s pussy. The odor of her wetness was musky, but sweet and pleasant. He loved it. And Renee didn’t mind in the slightest. She had three orgasms from his ministrations. “Oh, god,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath from the last orgasm. She gently stroked Skip’s hair. “Boy, baby, you sure know how to eat pussy. Damn.” She laid back down and grinned, letting the last of the orgasm fade. She pulled him back up to her. They kissed gently for a little while, then Renee got up on her knees. “Okay,” she grinned. “Time 98

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords to pay you back.” Skip willingly laid down on the bed. Renee kissed him, caressed her way down his body. He closed his eyes and let the sensation take over. Her touching was at once soothing and arousing, warm and cool, feather light and whisper soft. The touching began at his hair, went down his face, gently traveled down his neck to his broad shoulders, smoothly flowed down his strong arms, then the touching went to his chest. He also felt light kisses travel down his chest, then his flat tummy, and soon arrive at his manhood. She giggled. “What?” Skip grinned down at her. “I’m just checking this out,” she grinned back. “This cute little white dick.” She licked her lips. “I can do everything to this.” She licked the pink head of his cock with her tongue, swirled it around real slow. She sucked on the head, then trailed her tongue up and down slowly along his hard shaft. At the bottom of his shaft, she licked and sucked at his balls, slurping them. “How’m I doing so far?” Renee grinned wickedly at him. “Oh, god, Renee,” Skip grunted. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said seductively. Then she ran her tongue all the way up his dick and took it in her brown mouth. Skip had never seen anything so damn sexy as 99

Jon Bradbury watching Renee’s tawny brown head and brown skin bobbing up and down on his white cock. “Renee,” was all he could say. She sucked him long, she sucked him short, she deep-throated him, she teased the tip, then she just sucked him, savoring every inch, knowing that at least she wasn’t going to choke to death on his cock. “Renee?” he moaned. “Hmmm,” Renee moaned back, with his cock in her mouth. “I’m going to cum,” he managed to get out. “Mmmm,” Renee smiled. She started sucking faster, and he finally exploded in her mouth. Skip groaned loudly as he came. She swallowed it all down, kept her lips wrapped around his cock as it jerked four times. Finally she let his cock pop out of her mouth, smiled at him, and licked her lips. “So, how was that?” “You have to ask?” Skip replied, catching his breath. Renee smiled and nodded. Then she snuggled up next to him and pulled the covers over them. “That’s what I thought,” she said, resting her head on his arm. They fell asleep quickly, in the satisfied slumber of lovers. **** 100

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The next morning, Renee woke up blearily. The first thing she noticed was that, apart from herself, there was nobody else in the bed. Then she heard off-key whistling from her kitchen. Smiling, she found her favorite terrycloth bathrobe and put it on, and slowly went to her kitchen, to find Skip making breakfast. Her purple top and short-shorts were on the floor where she’d left them. She went around the bar, slipped her arms around Skip’s waist from behind, and rested her head against his back. “Good morning,” she said in his ear. Skip smiled back at her. “Good morning. I hope you didn’t oversleep or anything.” Renee stretched noisily. “Nope, I’m fine. Except that I just realized I left my stuff in my car, which is —’ “At the stadium,” they both said. “I can take you over there,” Skip offered. “You sure?” Renee asked him. “It’s no problem,” Skip shrugged. “I got to go there, anyway.” “I would appreciate it,” Renee said. “I have so much to do today.” Skip took the pan off the burner and offered it to her. “Here, have some eggs.” Renee attacked it. “Thanks.” They proceeded to 101

Jon Bradbury eat it right out of the pan, then she looked at the clock on the microwave, and said, “Oh, gosh. I have to shower now if I plan on getting everything done today.” She kissed him on the lips and said, “Thanks for breakfast, Skip. That was sweet of you.” “I thought you might need it, after last night,” Skip grinned. Renee blushed. “Yes. Last night was fun, wasn’t it?” “Sure was,” Skip agreed. “Tiring, but fun.” Renee gave him a solemn, child-like look. “Thanks for your patience with me,” she said. “The only thing I was really sure about last night was that I needed to be loved.” They stood there and kissed, morning breath and all. They showered together, then Skip put his same outfit back on and waited for Renee, who came out wearing a fuzzy brown baggy sweater, blue jeans and white sneakers, her hair back in a bun, carrying a little white crochet purse. They went out to Skip’s car and he drove her back to the stadium, where she easily found her car. Renee thanked him once again, but before she could go to her own car, Skip said, “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to see you again.” She looked at him, saw his vulnerability. Last night was more than about satisfying mutual curiosity, for both of them. “Sure,” she said at last. 102

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords “I’d like that, too.” “Cool,” Skip grinned. “I’ll give you a call sometime.” “I’ll look for your call.” Renee leaned back in and kissed him once more. “But now I have got to go.” “See you later?” Skip said hopefully. “Count on it,” Renee assured him. “See you later, baby.” Skip drove away with a silly grin.

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he next morning, Dayana woke up and saw the note sitting on Wendell’s pillow. She reached over and carefully unfolded it. “I love you, for the tigress you are,” she read softly. “Go get him.” She looked up at the cathedral ceiling — and smiled. She got out of bed, went down the stairs, did her morning yoga routine, and ate breakfast, unexpectedly ravenous. She went back upstairs and took a long hot shower, considering the wardrobe possibilities as she stepped under the hot water. She went through her usual routine in the shower — lavender body wash, then she shampooed her hair, then removed any hair from armpits, legs, and her pussy. After rubbing herself down with baby oil, she chose her canary yellow sweater, knee length denim skirt, and finally she pulled on brown leather knee high boots with 4 inch high stiletto heels. As she put on lipstick and 104

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords lip gloss, she visualized kicking Edward in the you-know-where. She left the townhouse. Her boots making a sexy, confident, click-click-click, she walked out to her car, got in and drove to the real estate office. Dayana waited for Renee at Marianne’s office, pacing back and forth impatiently and glancing at her watch nervously. She was so afraid that Renee wouldn’t show up — and leave her to do this all by herself. But her worry was needless. Renee even showed up ten minutes early, dressed casually in a sweater and jeans, but looking neat as a pin. She was also smiling happily. Glowing, more like. Dayana nudged her. “Looks like you had fun last night.” Renee blushed. “You could say that,” she smiled. “I’m glad,” Dayana smiled. “But now to the matter at hand.” “Right,” Renee nodded. “Just what exactly am I supposed to do?” “Watch my back, mainly,” Dayana replied. “You know I will,” Renee nodded. “What are you planning to do?” “Confront him about this,” Dayana told her, gesturing to the bottle in her hand. “For starters.” Dayana nervously ran her nails through her hair. 105

Jon Bradbury “I think if push comes to shove, he won’t have the balls.” Renee nodded her understanding. “I see. I should probably tell you that the team already knows about his Viagra. They’re going to have some fun with this regardless of what happens today.” She took Dayana’s arm and squeezed it affectionately. “Don’t worry, Dayana. We’ll show Edward Newton not to bully people anymore.” She gave Dayana a comforting hug. Dayana pulled back, wiping some tears away. “Thanks. I hope this works.” “It will,” Renee promised. “It’s your plan, after all.” Then they heard loud hip-hop music from the parking lot. “Gee,” Dayana said sarcastically. “I wonder who that is.” They went into Marianne’s office and waited for Newton. Soon Newton himself came into the room, strutting confidently. He didn’t know what to make of Renee in the room, but his attention was riveted on Marianne — just like Dayana had thought. Newton liked blondes. “Well, Dayana,” he said smugly, “have you given some thought to my offer?” “Yes,” Dayana nodded. “I have.” “And what do you have to say?” Edward asked, as if he knew the answer already. 106

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords “Two words —drop dead,” Dayana answered. “Well then,” he said, “I suppose I send these to the judge.” He displayed the envelope again. “Not so fast,” Renee said. “You forgot something yesterday, Edward.” She placed the bottle on Marianne’s desk, so he could easily see the label. Newton’s face went somewhat slackjawed. “Look familiar?” Renee asked him suggestively. “Where did you get that?” Newton said. It was the wrong thing to say. “Ah, so it is yours,” Dayana smiled. “And I asked you a question,” he said to Renee. “I didn’t ‘get’ it anywhere. It was sitting right by your locker door,” Renee replied. “You know, you shouldn’t mess with a woman whose boyfriend is a reporter,” Renee added offhandedly, intending to make a thinly veiled threat. The meaning carried loud and clear. Newton swallowed visibly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. That was his second mistake. “Well,” Renee smiled, “I would imagine that right now, he’s getting ready to splash this juicy headline all over the front page. That is what reporters do, I think.” Dayana smiled, her confidence finally returning. “So I would reconsider what I would 107

Jon Bradbury do with those photographs, if I were you,” she said. “Unless you don’t mind the whole world knowing you have to take Viagra to have an erection.” But he did mind, very much. His silence was the loudest answer. She shook her head at him. She said quietly, “If you’d simply asked, I would have gladly signed a quit-deed on the house. All I wanted was to be rid of it and you. But you had to play hardball.” Edward Newton abruptly slumped in his chair, defeated. “Let’s sign these papers.” “And I want those photos,” Dayana added. “Agreed,” Edward nodded. He took out the envelope and dropped it on the desk. Fifteen minutes later, Dayana called Wendell on her cell phone to his cell phone. “This is Wendell.” “Hi, baby,” Dayana said, her voice tremulous. “You can tell Pam that the story didn’t pan out.” “Gotcha,” Wendell replied. “I’ll tell her. Talk to you later.” “Bye, boo,” Dayana smiled. She put her cell phone in her purse, and then shared a sisterly hug with Renee. “That man is finally out of my life,” she said. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Renee asked. “Yes,” Dayana smiled. “I don’t suppose you have time to celebrate with me?” Renee patted Dayana’s arm. “Not today I don’t, 108

The Football Player’s Wife – Queen of Swords no. But be sure to call me later.” Dayana gave her a big hug and a kiss. “You bet.” Renee went to her car and Dayana asked her, “So what’s the deal with you and Skip? You going to see him again?” Renee smiled. “Yeah. It might even lead somewhere, you never know.” “Good luck,” Dayana said, closing Renee’s car door for her. “He’s a good man.” “Thanks,” Renee said. “I’ll call you later. I got to be going.” As Renee pulled out of the parking lot and drove away, Dayana waved goodbye from where her car was parked. On the other side of town, Wendell snapped shut his cell phone. Then he went into Pam’s office. She looked up and asked without preamble, “So, what did you find out, about Newton’s Viagra?” Wendell shook his head. “No go. Somebody on the team must have planted the bottle as a joke. You know how guys are, Pam.” Pam shook her head, too. “Too bad,” she said. “That would have been one hell of story if it had checked out.” “Yeah,” Wendell said, with an admirable poker face. “Sure would have.” “Stay available,” Pam said, getting back on 109

Jon Bradbury track. “I’ll need you for the playoffs.” “Sure,” Wendell nodded. “And congrats,” she smiled. “Thanks,” Wendell grinned.

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! ! ! ! Bcpvu!uif!Bvuips! Bradbury is a customer care associate for a K!on national phone company, but what he really wants to do is write, and that is what he has done since high school, where his English teacher helped him discover this rare ability. Since then he has strove to be a better writer and man. His interests include movies and music, books and magazines, cooking and working out. He is currently single and lives in Reno, Nevada.