One day, and she was ready to pull her hair out. But at least they had made great headway. She was able to get their team up to speed on a lot of the processes that she had developed to help spearhead her department. She had developed some modeling techniques that had saved the company a ton of money, and her manager wanted her to share them with the struggling office.
Flopping down onto the bed, she tucked her feet underneath her. She hated leaving Cleveland. London had really been pushing for her to stay so she could be with him during the signing and the celebration they were going to throw for Khalil choosing London’s company to represent him.
But he’d wanted her to abandon her responsibilities to support him.
Her job was important to her. She was an independent woman who could take care of herself. She didn’t know what type of women he was involved with before—
She stopped.
Yes, she did.
Floozies.
Whores.
Women who only wanted to fuck and take money from him.
She cringed. Hopefully not in that order. London Keith didn’t need to hire prostitutes. The women were practically tripping over themselves to get into his apartment before she came along.
All he wanted was to celebrate the biggest contract of his career.
God. Now she felt horrible.
Her work was practically done here. She had given them manuals and helped install the worksheets for all the analysts. Anything else they could do via Zoom.
Alana grinned. She would cut her trip short and surprise London.
Grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she dialed London’s number.
The phone rang, and soon his voicemail picked up. She opted out of leaving a message. He would be crazy busy at the moment.
She opened up Instagram, and the first post she saw was of Primetime Sports Management. It was a video posted earlier that day with the official press release announcement that Khalil was going to be represented by Primetime. She watched London and Khalil answer questions, and Khalil speak for few minutes.
Alana was proud of London. All of his hard work was paying off.
She scrolled to the next post.
Her stomach clenched at the photos of Khalil, London, and a few other men she didn’t know posing for the camera. The snapshot itself didn’t bother her. It was the strippers behind the group.
She understood the business of courting athletes, but seeing London hanging with the men in that type of establishment didn’t sit right with her.
Should the company be posting pictures of celebrities in strip clubs?
Was that appropriate publicity?
She scrolled a little more and saw videos of them drinking, tossing an obscene amount of money at the strippers dancing around for them. Her heart raced.
This was the old London. The one she would stalk from behind her apartment door. She cringed at the photos of women hanging around him.
She scrolled and landed on Khalil’s page. There were videos of the strippers grinding and dancing in front of him and London.
Alana closed the app, refusing to get caught up in things she saw on social media. There hadn’t been any reason why she couldn’t trust London, and she wasn’t going to start making assumptions now.
“He’s celebrating with his new client. Everything is fine.” Putting on her jammies, she climbed back into bed. She’d look in the morning for an afternoon flight home, and would be able to join him in celebrating.
18
Alana walked out of her bedroom, wearing a cute little dress she had picked up from a boutique that was located in the lobby of her hotel. Going into the kitchen, she opened her fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine she’d stashed away before she had left.
“After the week I had, this is well-deserved.” She spun around and took out a glass from her cabinet and poured a healthy amount.
Glancing at her watch, she grinned. London should be home at any moment, and she couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.
It would be pointless to even put on shoes, knowing her man would be taking the dress off and dropping it on the floor.
Setting the almost empty bottle onto the counter, she ambled into the living room.
Earlier that morning, she had texted him, but didn’t want to ruin the surprise. He’d mentioned some gathering at their office. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too much longer.
Sipping her wine, she turned on the television and flipped the channel to ESPN. The hosts of the show were speaking of Khalil and the new sports agency he’d signed with.
“Primetime is becoming a powerhouse. Who isn’t signing with them?” a black man in a navy suit asked. He was handsome. If she remembered right, he was a former basketball player.
“London and Jaxon Keith are geniuses when it comes to contract negotiations. They’ve built their empire from scratch. There isn’t anything these brothers won’t do for their clients,” the other anchor commented.
London had shared with her that his younger brother would be in town to celebrate, and she couldn’t wait to meet him.
She watched as they continued to talk about the upcoming contract negotiations of the NBA. Trade deals, and the amount of money they were discussing was staggering.
“I think I made the wrong decision in life,” she murmured. “I should’ve been a basketball star.”
A giggle escaped her. At her height, basketball would never have been in her future.
Muffled laughter could be heard out in the hallway. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing London.
Finishing her drink, she sat the empty glass down on the coffee table and walked over to her door, excitement brimming throughout her body. Three days away from London was too long.
Standing on her tiptoes, she peeked out the hole and froze.
The floor of her stomach gave way. Nausea rose until she thought she was about to lose the wine she had drank.
London was leading two women into his apartment—one blonde, one brunette.
Pain rippled through her chest.
London was cheating on her?
She wasn’t supposed to be back in town until tomorrow.
While he thought she was away, he was returning to his old self.
Alana inhaled sharply, trying to push the bile down. There had to be a better explanation.
She turned away from the door and stood still.
Should she go over there and bang on the door?
Did she really want to confront him while he was in the middle of doing God knew what with those skanks?
She made her way back to the couch and flopped down onto it.
No, she would wait.
She would approach this like an adult.
Settling back on the couch, she willed herself not to cry. She’d be damned if he would cause her to cry.
In the back of her mind, it all seemed too good to be true. London Keith dating someone like herself? They were complete opposites.
Those women who followed him into the apartment looked as if they had just strolled off the runway.
There was no way a short, chubby girl with glasses could compete with them.
She was lucky she had that first night that turned into an entire weekend. She’d gotten more than she bargained for.
But did it have to hurt so damn bad? Her eyes grew blurry from unshed tears.
Dammit, she would not cry.
She swiped angrily at her eyes and breathed deeply, in and out. There was no use in crying.
Alana knew the type of man London was. He was who he was, and probably grew bored of the quiet life with her.