Center Courtship Read Online Free

by our sign.” I looked at the counter and realized he left his photo album. I pulled it over and showed Steve the pictures. “If he comes back, he’ll want this,” I said. “I’ll call him to let him know he left it just in case.”
    â€œThese are pretty rad,” said Steve as he flipped through the pages of the book.
    â€œRad? Are they hip, too?” I loved teasing Steve, he was like an uncle to me.
    â€œGo, before I start giving away the shop. Be sure to give Brandon a high five from all of us here.”

CHAPTER 2
    After finishing some last minute things, Little José and I headed to my brother’s house. Once inside the door of their two story Tudor-style home, I was greeted by Jezebel and Jersey, the family’s St. Bernards. I gave them both some love and headed to the dining room. A grocery bag was where Gina said it would be. Looking inside I saw a basketball, a few shirts, a pair of tennis shoes and other odds and ends. I really hoped Elsu wouldn’t mind signing all of this stuff.
    I gave the dogs some treats and threw the tennis balls for them a few times before I headed back to the truck. I checked my phone and saw that Gina had texted me the address. Independence was about forty-five minutes away so I headed out on the open road to get there by five.
    When I pulled up to a large iron gate surrounded by a stone wall, looked at the keypad and wondered if I was missing something. Was I supposed to know a code? Was there a magic button to push to summon someone from inside? Just as I was about to push the star button, I heard a man’s voice. “Can I help you?” he asked.
    â€œYes, I’m here for Brandon Rogers to see Elsu Benjamin,” I said shakily.
    The gate opened and I pulled through. The parking area in front of the house was not far off the street, but it was massive. I saw several black SUV’s parked to one side so I pulled in beside them. The front of the house was sparse. Not much in the way of landscaping, or greenery of any sort, for that matter. The house was 3 stories tall and covered in different shapes and sizes of rock. A brief walkway with 3 steps that led to a small porch was left of the front of the house. The only pop of color on the shale colored house was a golden-yellow door with a black door knob, flanked by narrow windows. It was not at all what I hadexpected, but then again, what does one expect from a rich basketball star’s home? I grabbed Brandon’s bag, and threw my coat back into the cab. It was an unseasonably warm November day, no need for a jacket over my coveralls. I looked at my reflection in the truck window and realized I was still a scuzzy mess.
    I scaled the stairs and knocked on the door. Quickly, the door swung open and a black man not much taller than I am stood before me. He looked past me and then at the bag in my hands. “Can I help you?” he asked.
    I was suddenly nervous. I don’t do well with confrontation, real or imagined. Most is probably imagined. My mouth dried and I stared at the man. He was short, but huge. The veins in his neck that slithered beneath the neckline on his button-down dress shirt made it clear that he was nothing but muscle and not to be messed with.
    â€œMa’am?” he said.
    â€œSorry,” I stuttered. “I’m here on behalf of my nephew Brandon,” I said.
    â€œThis day is for Brandon, not some random fan,” he said curtly.
    â€œBrandon couldn’t make it, he’s been injured. I’m just here to ask Elsu to sign some of Brandon’s things since he can’t be here.” I crinkled the bag to indicate the location of the items in question.
    â€œThere’s our star writer!” A short gray-haired man appeared behind the first man. “Who are you?”
    â€œI’m sorry, I’m Mae. Mae Rogers. Brandon’s aunt.”
    â€œWhere’s Brandon?” asked the stocky man