Chapter 12 #4
“I thought you guys wrapped it up for the day? Is there a problem?” He looked up over his glasses, his forehead wrinkled. Roxanne smiled.
“Not at all. In face, I have the solution to the ratings problem. I have an idea for a great show.” Still grinning, she walked into the office, and ignoring Hank’s gesture for her to have a seat, she told him.
Finally on her way home, she picked up her cell phone from the passenger seat.
The Celtics were back from a trip to Chicago last night and they were playing Atlanta tomorrow in the Garden for a Sunday matinee.
Roxanne thought a minute and decided not to call him after all.
She would go to the game to see him instead.
She would invite him out to dinner afterwards.
As she pulled up to her house, she saw Al’s car in her driveway. She parked and sat behind the wheel. She wasn’t sure if she should be worried or angry that he was here, but either way, she was surprised. Her front door opened and Al stepped out. She lowered her window.
“Come on. I’m taking you out to dinner,” Al said as he walked toward her. She finally got out of her car. He put his arm around her shoulder and turned her around, walking her toward his car. She resisted the impulse to pull away from him.
“What’s the occasion?” Roxanne hoped the anxiety she felt didn’t show in her voice.
He stopped and handed her a check. She took it and read the amount. Ten thousand dollars.
“It’s for your watch,” He spoke with triumph. “Let’s go to dinner. I insist. No strings.” He paused and lowered his voice. “I have some developments to share with you.”
At dinner they talked about Penelope’s progress with her vendetta.
“I hired a detective to follow Penelope’s detective, Melvin Lipman.
Melvin’s been talking with a lot of people.
They’re trying to drum up a motive for murder.
Maybe involving an illicit love affair. He’s stirring up trouble at the hospital and now he’s made appointments to talk with people at the TV studio next. ” Al paused and took a sip of his drink
Her heart rose, drumming in her throat. She picked up her glass and swished the soda water, wishing it was something stronger.
Al held his glass of some kind of scotch out to her.
She took a swig. It burned through her, but left warmth in its wake.
She thought of Brian Dennis. Al spoke again, snapping her attention back.
“He’s also talking again to people who were at the party with you the night of Don’s death. They’re trying to pry even a small hole in your alibi. That’s all they’ll need. I’d feel a lot better if Mark Baines were around.”
“So would I,” she admitted. “Let’s talk about something else.”
She didn’t eat much. On the way home, the implications of what Al told her spun in her head. She looked out the window of his car. Thank God they were almost back to her house. Al broke the silence.
“How about those Celtics? I have tickets to tomorrow’s game. Want to go?”
She wondered if he knew of her affair with Brian. “I’m already going, but thanks.”
“With who?” He looked away, back at the road. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business, is it?” He seemed to want an answer to that. She sighed.
“It is none of your business, but I’m going alone. I’m meeting Brian Dennis after the game.” She looked at him so there was no misunderstanding.
His eyes widened. He looked incredulous for a second, then morose.
“Guess I can’t compete with him, can I? No.
Never mind. Forget I said anything.” He shook his head, either in disgust or in resignation.
She wasn’t sure. Either way, she felt relieved that he was now completely disillusioned about romancing her.
Once her mind settled on seeing Brian, the tension that had kept her stiff and uncomfortable all evening disappeared. She took a deep breath. God help her.
Stepping from the locker room after the game, Brian was only moderately surprised to see Roxanne.
“You’re turning into a regular groupie, Rox,” Brian said as he moved quickly through the crowd of media people and headed toward her. He’d spotted her instantly. He put his arm around her and swept her with him swiftly past the poised pens. Then he remembered.
“Shit.”
“What? Did I foil some prior plans?” Her smile looked as if she hoped she did, as if the evening wouldn’t be as enjoyable unless she claimed his attentions over everything else. Or it could be his imagination.
He smiled down at that mischievous twinkle he saw and shook his head.
“Yeah. You did. I did have other plans. And yes, I will change them to accommodate you.” He shook his head again, and leaving her standing in the dark corridor, he walked back toward the dressing room.
Then he threw over his shoulder, “Don’t bother apologizing.
” He heard her laughter bubble as he walked back through the crowd.
The sound brought a fresh grin to his face.
“Hey Brian. Great game. Good to see you back in form,” Kevin said to him as he walked by. Then Kevin nodded his head in Roxanne’s direction. “Be careful, though.”
Brian laughed. “Jealous, Kevin?”
“Sure. But I mean it.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He ducked back into the dressing room. Some of the guys were still there, outnumbered by reporters three to one.
“Dave,” he called to his friend. Dave was always one of the last ones out. He never seemed to be in a hurry.
“Yo. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“No. I won’t be making it after all…” Brian didn’t want to explain why.
“Why the hell not?” Dave stood and buttoned his shirt. Brian noticed the reporters who’d been sitting with Dave taking an interest, listening for his answer.
He sighed and swiped a hand through his damp hair. “I’m going with Roxanne instead.” He didn’t keep his voice low. Dave raised his brows. He hoped to hell his friend wasn’t going to make an issue of it here. It really was no big deal. Yet he felt that twitch of defiance as he stood there.
“So. Bring her with you. We’d be glad to set another place at dinner.”
“Thanks. I’ll take a rain check.” Brian turned, but not before seeing Dave’s face crack into a grin.
“Oh, I get it. You two want to be alone. Is that it?” Dave spoke a little too loudly. Brian grimaced, turned back to his friend. “Fuck you,” he mouthed, as the reporters were getting up and coming over with big smiles, mumbling amongst themselves about a budding romance.
Brian disappeared fast. He got through the crowd in record time and swept up Roxanne on his way. He was a thirty-one year old man and he didn’t need the adolescent baloney that Dave seemed to thrive on. But he couldn’t help smiling at the thought of his friend.
He wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was doing and whether she was worth it.
Slouched back in his car, he glanced over at her.
Her face glowed with pleasure. Her black sweater clung to the tempting roundness of her breasts.
She could definitely make him feel better.
This was exactly what the doctor ordered, he reasoned.