A Glass Of Champagne

Chapter Thirty

Makayla took a seat, her eyes scanning the room. I pulled out a chair at the long table, settling across from her.

"Alright, Makayla, lay it out for me. What's up?" I leaned back in my chair.

Makayla opened her sleek leather bag and produced a folder, laying it out on the table with a quiet precision. Her fingers deftly flipped through the pages.

"Dario, we've got some exciting offers on the table. First up, theirs a major sportswear's brand interested in a signature shoe deal. They've seen the way your on-court performance has elevated in just two years, and they want to capitalize on that momentum," Makayla began, her large brown eyes locking onto mine.

I leaned forward, "What are the terms?"

She proceeded to outline the details—a lucrative deal with performance incentives, design input and a global marketing team. Some good shit.

"I like that. What else?"

She delved into potential brand collaborations from energy drinks to tech companies looking to leverage my image in their advertising campaigns.

"And then theirs the possibility of a documentary about your journey from high school all the way to where you're at now in the league. See it as a behind-the-scenes look at the life of an emerging star in the NBA. It could be a great way to connect with fans on a more personal level," she suggested.

"A documentary, huh? Let's hold that for now. I'm not sure if I want cameras poking into my personal life right now. It's shitty enough the paparazzi stay on my dick."

Makayla chuckled, "Okay. We'll pause the talks about the doc for now."

"But," she began, her tone laced with irritation and concern. "We need to talk about this." She reached into a separate folder on her desk and slammed a series of photos onto the table.

I picked up the photos and studied them. Pictures of me and Solana stepping out of the apartment I bought her.

I looked up at Makayla, annoyance warring within me. "Let me guess... nosey ass paparazzi?"

"Yes nosey ass paparazzi got wind of it. I had to pay off a mountain of cash to bury these photos," Makayla replied tersely, "And what's even more infuriating is that I had no idea who this pregnant woman even is. I thought you were still with Elena."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Nah that's over. And this pregnant woman's name is Solana."

"Fine. She has a name now. Is the baby yours?"

I nod my head, with a small smile.

Her eyes narrowed. "And you couldn't bother to inform me of this? You think I enjoy cleaning up after your messes?"

I bit back a retort, realizing she had a point. "You're right. I should've kept you in the loop."

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "So who is Solana? And why is she making headlines with you?"

I blew out a breath, "My first love. My everything. We dated for five years back in high school. She was supposed to be my wife...but shit got complicated and we went our separate ways. Elena is or was Solana's best friend in highschool, so we're all pretty fucking connected. And before you get the thought, no I wasn't interested in Elena when I was dating Solana. It just happened when Solana and I broke up. And now that she's back—"