Dolce (Love at Center Court, #2)

I shook my head and sniffed back a tear.

Sarina reached out to pat my shoulder. “This weekend, I want to bring a few other girls over to your place. They said it would be okay for you to interview them. Lisa’s parents tossed her out like garbage when she got pregnant at sixteen. Brittany is like you, a college student who pays her tuition and expenses with the money. She sees this as the ultimate freedom of speech, and is looking forward to meeting you. And then there’s Chantae, a lifer. She got into the biz with her ex-husband and never left. She has three boys.”

“Wow.”

A smile crossed my face. This was exactly what I wanted, to prove my theories, and Sarina was providing me with firsthand accounts.

“Thanks, Ri. Seriously, I can never pay you back for this.” I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek before I got out of the car to brave the cold.

“Hey,” she called to me. “When you’re famous, don’t forget me.”

Then she drove away, heading home to crawl into her own bed for only a few hours’ sleep before her son awoke.



Saturday came faster than I expected.

Of course, I’d sneaked into the field house the night before and watched the game before heading to film. I hid out in Section 305, so there was no chance of Blane seeing me, but he’d texted after the game anyway.



BLANE: Were you there? I swear I could smell you.

CATIE: LOL. Yes. Great game! Loved the dunk in the second half. The one with the and-one.

BLANE: That guy hacked the hell out of my hand, but thanks. Where did you sit?

CATIE: Never. The section number will die with me.



Truth was, I couldn’t take his eyes stroking me before heading out to tape. I didn’t like being duplicitous, even if this was only a fling to him. In a few short months, his opinion had come to matter to me, and this wasn’t something I could explain.



BLANE: I’ll be distracted during the next game looking for you.

CATIE: No way. I’ve seen you. You’re all about ball on the court.

BLANE: Just wait and see. Do you have time for dinner Saturday?

CATIE: Maybe. I could do a late one.



Frank would be off tomorrow night, so I didn’t have to work. But the girls were coming over in the afternoon, and I didn’t want to rush them.



BLANE: Deal. I’ll grab you around eight?

CATIE: OK.

BLANE: We’re going to go to a restaurant and not break into anyone’s home.

CATIE: I knew that was all a lie! Boosters, my ass—we were trespassing!

BLANE: That’s for me to know. See you tomorrow, shortie.

CATIE: Don’t you dare call me that, Jolly Green Giant.

BLANE: LMAO.



That was yesterday. Now I raced around my small apartment and straightened up for my company, wondering what they would think of me. Would they accept me?

As I fluffed the pillows on my bed, the doorbell rang.

I pulled the door open to find a diverse group of women in the hallway—tall and short, busty and rail-thin, some wearing makeup and others not. Bright lipstick glared from one highly made-up face, while another woman’s head was covered by a scarf.

Sarina made the introductions at the threshold. “Ladies, this is Ariel, also known as Cate. She’s going to vindicate us.”

I smiled at them, hoping I would do them more good than bad.

“This is Brittany.” She pointed at the young woman with bright pink lipstick wearing leggings and an oversized denim shirt, and UGGs on her feet.

“Hey.” The girl stepped in and pulled me into a hug.

“This is Chantae.”

The woman with the deep mahogany skin and a bright green scarf wrapped around her hair blew me a kiss and walked into my place.

“In the back are Mich and Tish.”

These two were obviously identical twins. It felt like double vision looking at them both in braided pigtails, skinny jeans, flannel shirts, and heavily glossed lips.

“You got any coffee?” they asked and sauntered inside.

“And this is Lisa,” Sarina said with her arm around a petite brunette with enormous boobs.

I dragged my gaze away from her impressive chest and said, “Nice to meet you.”

Lisa narrowed her eyes on me. “So, you’re the newbie taking up all my bestie’s time?”

“Umm . . .”

“Kidding, babe. Good to meet you,” she said, and pinched my arm before she slid past me.

I made coffee and poured generous mugs, passing them all around before making a second pot.

Sarina explained what I was doing with my project, and I chimed in with a little more detail while the women made themselves comfortable on my bed and floor. Their eyes were wide as they listened.

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