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walked right into his waiting arms.
    “ Hines! What are you doing here? ”
    He kissed my forehead, sat down on the velvet love seat, then reached for my hand to pull me down next to him. We snuggled, though we didn't do it on purpose. It was the way the soft velvet love seats were designed -- like bean bag chairs -- our bodies didn't have any choice but to kinda meld together.
    Not that I minded. Hines was one of my best “ dates, ” sexually and monetarily. And if he'd called me here to Foxtails to get down, then I would just have to give up my quest to be a virtuous woman on my wedding day. Because right about now, I could use a piece of this man.
    “ What are you doing here? ” I asked. “ I didn't even know you were in L.A. ”
    He leaned back and unbuttoned the jacket of what I was sure was at least an eight-hundred dollar suit. He put his arm around me. “ I'm still moving around, from here to there. ”
    “ So, no more football at all? Ever? ”
    He shook his head. “ They were serious when they kicked me out the league, ” he said, as if it was no big deal that he'd lost his multi-million dollar contract with the Los Angeles Raiders. “ I'm banned for life. ”
    It may not have been a big deal to Hines, but it was major to all the football fans who'd been thrilled beyond measure when the Oakland Raiders had deserted the North and migrated to the South, bringing their star rookie running back with them. Hines Gifford was a sensation who had broken all kind of records at Florida State and was expected to do the same with the Raiders. The talk on the street was that the Raiders wanted Hines so bad that when he said he would only play if he could be in L.A., they moved the entire franchise. It had been hard for people to believe that one player -- a rookie at that -- could have that kind of pull. I didn't believe any of that myself, until Hines and his boys had come into Foxtails one night.
    Foxtails was known as a place where the big spenders liked to drop their dollars, so I was used to the kind of money that Hines was tossing around. But it was what was beyond the money that impressed me. Hines had a confidence that was definite, but not cocky; a strut that was self assured, but not prideful. It was just clear that he knew what he wanted, and whatever he wanted, he was gonna get.
    Then, in Hines's second year, the news came out that he was involved in some major league trouble.
    I said, “ I still can't believe that anyone would really think that you were in the mafia. I mean, what kind of proof did they have? ” I only asked that question because I was in a curious mood and really wanted to know if Hines was going to confirm anything or deny everything. Not that I needed him to say a word; I'd pretty much made up my mind, like the millions of other people in this country. Hines Gifford was all up in that mess. He'd been linked to the Adamo family, second only to the Gottis in organized crime. According to all the stuff I'd read in the Star and National Enquirer , even while Hines was playing football, he and his boys were running the mafia's L.A. sports operations, everything from scalping tickets to shaving points. And it was rumored that he had “ taken care ” of a few people here and a few people there when he received orders from the Adamos to do so.
    The rumors and accusations were rampant; no one knew what was fact or what was fiction. Then suddenly at the beginning of Hines's third year, he was cut from the Raiders. The thing that was so heavy, though, was that they were still going to pay him his contract, which was unheard of in the NFL. It was the lead story on every channel, on the front page of every newspaper, and on the tongue of every DJ. It was nothing but a thrilling mess.
    Hines said, “ I didn't come down here to talk about all my troubles. ”
    “ You don't look like you got any troubles. ” I let my eyes roll over all of his Denzel-esque fineness. I wasn't going to initiate it,