Can't Get Enough (Skyland, #3)(49)

I finally nod, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it on a whoosh.

“You ready, Skip?” I ask, crossing the room and looping my elbow through hers.

She glances over at the plexiglass where Bolt stands, back stiff, turned away from the room. At my words, he angles his head slightly as if waiting, listening for my assistant’s response.

“Yeah,” she snaps, eyes narrowed on Bolt. “Let’s bounce.”

Maverick’s brows are raised just as high as mine and the speculation in the gaze he splits between our two assistants is just as evident.

“Thanks again for inviting us, Maverick,” I tell him, dragging Skipper toward the exit and not waiting for his response.

As soon as we’re outside, Skipper’s proud posture collapses and she drops her face into her hands.

“Oh, my God,” she groans. “Why did I let that happen again?”

“And he got that neck good.” I laugh a little, hoping to lighten her mood.

“What?” Her head snaps up. “What do you mean?”

I nod to the hickey she obviously doesn’t realize is there. “You know that light skin of yours shows it all.”

Her hands fly to both sides of her neck, eyes wide.

“I can’t believe I’m this weak. He’s not even that cute.” She glances up, uncertainty on her face. “Is he?”

“I mean, he’s not my type.” I give her a small smile. “But I can understand his appeal. Give yourself a break. What’s so bad about hooking up with a guy who obviously can’t keep his hands off you? And you seem to be having the same reaction. I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is he’s an asshole.”

“Oh, that.” I chuckle. “Hey, the sex is good and you don’t have to marry him. The two of you won’t even see each other on a regular basis.”

“I guess that depends on how regularly you and Maverick see each other.” She gives me a pointed look. “Are we gonna talk about that?”

“Nah.” My smile dissolves and I pull my phone out to text Chapel, dropping my eyes from the knowledge in hers. “We ain’t talking ’bout that.”





CHAPTER 17





MAVERICK


Dad!”

My daughter’s beautiful smile beams at me from the screen, and despite all the shit I’ve been wading through for the Vipers deal, I smile back. I freed up a ton of cash when I sold True Playahs, but part of my capital to purchase the team comes through financing. Dealing with the banks on such a mammoth venture and jumping through all the hoops the league requires when you buy a team is one of the most complex things I’ve ever navigated. Seeing Tamia, even if just on FaceTime, is a breath of much-needed fresh air.

“Baby girl.” I settle in behind my desk and give her my complete focus. “The globetrotter.”

“Look who’s talking,” she parries with a grin. “How long are you home this time?”

“Few days before I head back out.”

“How’s that empty nest treating you? You throwing any wild parties now that you ditched your kid?”

“You know I’d love to still have you here. You’re the one who insisted on leaving me as soon as you tossed your cap in the air graduation day.”

“I wanted to spend some time with Mom.” Her dark eyes, so like her mother’s, search mine. “You understand, right?”

“You know I do. I could fly out there, though, if you’re missing me too badly,” I offer hopefully.

“I do miss you,” she says, her tone careful. “But I think Mom really wants some time with just the two of us. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” I reply, making sure to hide my disappointment. “She hasn’t had as much time with you as I have. You guys should catch up.”

When LaTanya decided to flee America a couple elections ago, I understood. Considering the mint she made when she sold her shares of True Playahs, she never has to work again and can live anywhere in the world. She chose Ghana and has dedicated her life to improving maternal mortality rates all over the world through the foundation she established a few years ago. We gave Tamia the option to move with her or remain in the States with me. I was fully prepared to split my time between the two continents if Tamia chose to live there, but she chose the States. Her best friends were here, and that became a deciding factor. We ensured she saw her mother whenever she wanted, but the day-to-day raising fell to me, and it was the greatest privilege of my life.

Also one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Raising a young girl from the age of ten to a young woman aged eighteen as a single dad, not for the faint of heart.

“How’s Ghana?” I ask, letting the ache of missing my daughter settle like a cannonball in my chest.

“Great.” She gathers a fistful of her long braids. “Got my hair did immediately.”

“As usual.”

“And Ame, Mom’s new housekeeper, makes the best jollof. Like for real. I ask for it every day.” She leans forward on the teak dining room table, the ceiling fan whirring gently overhead. “Don’t tell Laurenz, but I think her cooking may even be better than his.”

I chuckle. “He’d be devastated, so I’ll keep that between us.”