Sin & Savior

CHAPTER 5, PART 2

20 minutes later, Marco arrived at the basketball court in an all-black Armani suit, a white shirt, and a cherry-feathered teal handkerchief in the space where his pocket square could have gone. He wore a deep red tie and Calvin Klein shoes, along with an entire bag's worth of chips on his shoulder.

"Who's Scarlett?" he demanded of the head coach unexpectedly, without the requisite respect. "Just who the fuck do you think you are, demanding anything on MY court?" the coach retorted, sounding as though he had never felt so disrespected in his entire career, or perhaps even his entire life. Marco conceded and recognized the clear hierarchy in the room.

"Pardon me, sir. I'm an attorney for C.S. Stratford, a local law firm, and my client has been commissioned to draft a mural for DePaul University's Women's Basketball Team to promote viewership for the FIBA Women's World Cup and the upcoming AmeriCup. Our USA team has been the most dominant in the history of both tournaments by a wide margin, yet dwindling viewership numbers suggest otherwise. My client has informed me that he was rather... erm... 'unceremoniously' removed from the grounds previously. He also mentioned that a woman named Scarlett was the point of contact for campus security. Thinking about it now..." he said, embarrassed, realizing that "Scarlett" was likely the name of one of the female players. "That definitely makes little sense. If you don't mind, could you introduce me to the security team so I can inform them that my client is under contractual obligation to quietly peruse this area of campus to blueprint ideas for the mural until his project is completed?" he asked carefully, trying not to overstep again.

Just as he finished speaking, Scarlett strode forward, a scowl and scorn evident on her lips. "Who the fuck is this Ronald McDonald-dressing motherfucker in his three-dollar suit parading around my court?" she asked her coach indignantly.

"Scarlett... watch your mouth. He and the gentleman you had ejected are here on business with the University," the coach replied. Scarlett quickly shrank, apologized, and then stood back up straight. She looked at her head coach and then back at this unknown intruder. "Who's the suit, then, exactly?" she asked, seemingly unperturbed despite her earlier apology.

Although astonished, not actually believing Ronel had told him the truth about somebody insulting his clothing: he kept his cool. "Hi, my name is Marco Gianmarco Anzanio. I'm an attorney representing Ronel Sorgic, the famed Afro-Russo muralist," he said, extending his hand for a shake. "He's responsible for 28 social commentary portraits worldwide, and he has been..." he managed to say before Scarlett rudely interrupted him.

"Yeah, yeah, also known as the creep eyeballing my girls like some shadowy fucking phantasm unannounced at the ba..." she said, eyeing his extended hand and ignoring it until she heard "SCARLETT!" ring out in her ears. The head coach howled in her direction, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Locker Room, NOW! Don't think I forgot about what happened before this whole fiasco began. Suicides from there to the rim 40 times, followed by three laps. MOVE YOUR ASS!" he hollered, entirely fed up with her antics.

Scarlett had been proving herself exceptionally skilled over the last three months, but her behavior and attitude could be detrimental if he didn't find a way to quell her angst and rudeness. She was an excellent top-tier player and an asset to the team, but as a leader, she was slowly eroding the team's chemistry. Soon, he would have to consider whether to offer Seraphina an opportunity to lead their cup practices instead. The issue was that Scarlett would sit out entirely if that ever happened, leaving him with even less desirable options, like Emilia Ashford—an incredibly tight and technical player with great defensive ability and court vision, but spotty offense—to lead their practices instead. That was a fate he'd rather not endure. "I apologize for her behavior. I'm not entirely certain what her deal is lately or if she's going through something, but in her defense, your client was definitely operating like a shady figure without any real rhyme or reason other than that he had 'research' to do for the painting. He'd let me know about it ahead of time, but I can only do so much when it comes down to the team captain's natural reaction to someone possibly creeping on her girls. How long is Mr. Sorgic's work slated to continue here, anyhow?" he asked respectfully, mindful of his tone.

The well-dressed man facing him could have stared daggers through him with the expression he wore. "Are all of your players such assholes?" he asked, before hearing a female voice shout breathily from a distance, "The only people with the power to put pressure on an asshole are bigger assholes, asshole!" Scarlett said, grinning and sprinting from line to line across the court. Marco's grimace could have burned holes through the hardwood that night.

"I'm going back to my office. I'm not tolerating this unprofessionalism any longer. I'll have my people send the paperwork to your staff, and we'll expect unfettered access from tomorrow onward," he said, stamping his feet back toward the double doors. "Fuck this broad," he muttered, glaring back at her as she moved, grinding his teeth and huffing under his breath. "I'll sue for breach of contract if they try to pull that bullshit again. I'll be sure to email the Dean and make him well aware of her behavior," he spat to himself, exiting the foyer and stepping into the cool air of the parking lot, ready to rid himself of the day. It wasn't enough that Ronel disrespected him left, right, and sideways; now he had random female basketball players talking to him like he was something to be trifled with. If she forced his hand, he would show her reality as he had seen it.