Hook Shot (Hoops #3)(127)

Which reminds me . . .

Me: Chicas! Are we ready for LA next week?

Yari: Yasss, girl! I sent you guys the list of locations we’re scoping.

Billie: Got it! And I’ve scheduled lunch with three investors while we’re there.

Yari: Lo, you NEED to ask that investor in your bed if he wants to get into your pants . . . the ones you design, I mean. Okurrrrr!

Me: What’d I tell you about Cardi B? LOL! And NO. I’m not asking Kenan to invest in gLo. Forget about it. Can we make sure our shit is tight so we don’t have to ask my boyfriend to float us? TYVM.

Billie: Right. Let’s impress these investors. Lo, did the samples make it to San Diego?

Me: Yup. They’re here at Kenan’s place. I’ll bring them with me to LA next week. Are you guys apartment hunting while you’re there?

Billie: Affirmative!

Yari: Yes, mami!

Simone’s face interrupts onscreen with a FaceTime request.

Me: Gotta go. TTYL.

Yari: Deuces!

Billie: Byyyyyyyye.

I accept the FaceTime request and smile at Simone onscreen.

“Hey, lady!” I hop onto one of the counter stools in the kitchen and hold the phone in front of my face. “How’s camp?”

“Grueling.” Simone rolls her eyes, but grins. “I thought I knew how to dance. I had no idea. It’s a whole other level. There’s no time for much else.”

“At least Laguna Beach is gorgeous. I hope you get in some sun and surfing.”

A shadow crosses Simone’s face. “I keep thinking about the last time Daddy brought me up here. The accident.”

Even with the terror behind us, my heart still stutters and my hands clench where they rest on the counter.

“I know.” I shake off that memory and laugh to dispel the heaviness. “He was back on court as soon as the doctor cleared him, though. Remember? We had to practically tie him to the bed.”

“Daddy was not about to miss the Waves’ first playoff season.”

“Hey, we might get to go to more playoff games. Maybe next time, they’ll win it all.”

Simone’s eyes brighten and a smile breaks on her face. “Or what if Daddy retires?”

Kenan missed a lot with her during his career, and she obviously loves the prospect of having him around more. So do I. He’s seriously considering making this next season his last.

“Maybe,” I reply noncommittally. I’m sure that’s a tougher decision for him than we can really understand. Probably even more than he can grasp until he experiences that huge void where ball used to be.

“My mom’s in LA,” Simone says, recapturing my focus.

“Oh really?” I keep my tone deliberately light. “Cool.”

Bridget has accepted me in Kenan’s and, by default, Simone’s life, but she and I still aren’t the best of friends. We don’t actively dislike each other. It’s more of a wary indifference.

“Yeah,” Simone says. “She’s taking some acting classes. She says NeNe left The Housewives and made it to Broadway. She wants to be ready.”

“Good for her,” I reply neutrally.

“You’re going to LA next week, too, right?”

“Yeah. Meeting with investors. Looking at spaces for the shop.”

“I can’t wait to see your first line.”

“Gah.” I laugh and shake my head. “I can’t believe I’m really doing this. Leaving New York. Moving out here. Starting the gLo line. Having my first show next March for LA Fashion Week. It feels like it’s happening so fast and also taking forever.”

“My dad’ll be a lot happier when you’re living out here. That’s for sure.”

I don’t know how to respond. My design studio will be in LA because it makes more sense than San Diego. There’s a richer fashion scene there—better opportunities, more celebrities—but I’ll be living in San Diego to be close to Kenan, and making the two-hour drive up to LA a few times a week. We’ve been careful every step of the way orienting Simone to our relationship. I’ve even sat in on a few family-therapy sessions. We want to do this right. For her, we have to.

“I’ll be happier, too,” I answer, “but my boss won’t! JP is kicking and screaming.”

The hiss of frying food snares my attention. I hop down, still holding the phone so Simone sees my face, and prop the phone against the backsplash while I stir the onions, garlic, and flour for the base of my étouffée.

“When do you leave New York?” Simone’s blue eyes widen with excitement. It makes me smile that she’s happy I’m coming to the West Coast.

“It’ll be a few months. I’m staying in New York through Fashion Week in September to help JP. Then I’ll move out here.”

I stir in more flour and check the rice cooker.

“What’re you making?” Simone asks.

“Baked catfish, étouffée, some fried okra.”

“My father is eating fried food? Simone asks, surprise etched onto her smooth face.

“I’m sure he’ll be back to eating rabbit food tomorrow.” I chuckle and open the oven to check the fish. “This is one night only.”

“Oh, for the anniversary!” Simone sounds approving.