Chapter 4 #2
“Your fabulous and illustrious career as a superstar basketball player has been well documented. You are discussed by experts as the ultimate dominant professional athlete, the best of the best, eclipsing all sports, very much admired. What is it that makes you so special?”
He gave her a look that said she ought to know. The intimate suggestion in his eyes made her think of their nights together. The clenching heat between her legs spread until she felt sure her face was red, but not from embarrassment. While she forced her poise back in place, he spoke.
“My father devoted himself to training me to pursue excellence in the game. No compromises. I’m devoted to being the best in basketball. In every choice I make, basketball comes first. For some people it’s hard to choose and they make compromises on their priorities. For me it’s automatic.”
“Aren’t you afraid you’re missing something?”
“Everyone is missing something. You make choices about what you want to miss in life.” He had that shark-like, take-no-prisoners game face on and aimed at her.
She resisted the automatic impulse to shudder.
She could swear he was talking about more than basketball and decided he’d make a riveting preacher—if he chose to.
“You’ve been criticized about your well-publicized short-lived marriage and about your distant relationship with your young daughter. Are the critics right? Have you put your career’s success ahead of a stable family life?”
“Yes,” he said without flinching.
She didn’t pause a breath before continuing.
“That’s not all your critics contend. Recently you attended two charitable events for Children’s Mercy Hospital.
Aside from that, however, my research indicates very sparse contributions of your time to charitable causes.
Could recent accusations claiming you turn down most solicitations of your time on behalf of worthy causes be true? ”
“Yes,” he said again without flinching. But his expression became subtly harder, she noticed.
“Why is that?” she asked, keeping to her relentless pace.
He paused. His expression changed. He grinned so wide that both his dimples showed and the sparkle of mischief she saw caused her stomach to tighten in anticipation. This was it.
“Why don’t you ask me why I’m doing this interview? Or why I chose to participate in those particular benefits? I normally don’t do much besides write a check, I’ll confess.”
She didn’t stop and try to figure it out. He would have to play her game.
“But why is that? Surely you must have some time you could spare?”
He sighed and continued to look studiously at her and not the camera.
“I have some time and some energy and some heart. But I can’t give it all away.
I have to draw the line somewhere. It would be easy to give my entire self away in little pieces if I did everything I was asked.
And you may be surprised to know that my daughter does come before doing benefits. ”
“After basketball?” she prompted.
He nodded affirmatively and absolutely without apology. His smile was gone. She knew he hated the subject, but this was her interview. Or so she thought.
“What about you?” he asked.
“What about me?” Her response was automatic and she looked at him, for a moment committing the cardinal sin of forgetting about the camera.
“You must have been in a situation before where you’ve lost control?”
“Yes. Like now for instance. I’m supposed to be asking the questions.” They laughed and she managed to regain control by announcing a commercial break.
Then she lost it again completely with the cameras turned out when she proceeded to swat him with her notes.
“Don’t you dare do that again. You don’t ask the questions. Just stick to answering them.”
He smiled his lopsided grin at her, ducking the papers. “Then stick with the program. This line of questioning wasn’t listed on the copy I received,” he noted.
“I was doing you a favor. I thought you’d appreciate the chance to defend yourself against your critics in the press.” It was partly true, she thought.
“To hell with favors. I don’t need any favors from you. You’re a little viper.” He was only half teasing.
“Oh? Not so little.” She laughed with her eyes, aware of the clock ticking down the seconds until airtime.
His eyes sparked, but he only let a skeptical half-grin show.
She had more live TV experience than he figured on, she’d bet.
Before this job she’d done lots of TV auctions on cable stations and being live didn’t bother her a bit.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the director cut him off.
“All quiet. Back from break and 5…4…3…2…1.” He swooshed his arm down, the red light went on, and Roxanne smiled into the camera again.
She did stick to the program for the rest of the show and when it was over, the producer, Hank Sillman, came by and shook Brian’s hand.
“Great job, Brian. Brilliant. Even better than we expected. I know you have a lot of demands on your time, but…”
“That’s right. The season’s starting tomorrow and I’m booked straight through next June,” Brian said in a voice harder than the pleasant half-smile on his face should have allowed.
Hank laughed it off and flashed a look at Roxanne as if for help.
She said nothing. This wasn’t the time or place to start pushing their luck with Brian Dennis.
Hank didn’t say any more, but Roxanne was sure he took note of the arm Brian placed behind her back in a proprietary manner as they left the studio.
Hank waved them off and headed for his office.
“So what have you been up to lately? No good, I’m sure,” Brian said.
“Yeah, if you call raising money for medical research ‘no good’.”
“Oh, don’t worry. You have my vote for the Nobel Peace Prize. Does your good-deed-doing leave you any time to go out?” His eyes dared her to say yes.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll see you after the game tomorrow night.” He walked toward the exit and moved to open the door.
“It’s a date.” She was crazy, but she couldn’t say no. “On one condition.”
He stopped in mid-motion. “What’s that?”
“You have to win the game.”
“I’ll assume you’re referring to the basketball game. No problem. You’re on.” He pushed open the door to leave and gave her one last long heart-pounding stare before stepping outside.
A smile etched her face despite the fact that she’d just created an impossibly difficult situation for herself.
How could she meet Brian after the game if she already agreed to go with Mark Baines to the game, albeit for business?
She’d have to do some fancy juggling to keep her date with Brian separate from her business meeting with Mark.
Walking back to Hank Sillman’s office to sign her new contracts, thinking very hard.
But the smile escaped through again and she shrugged as she knocked on Hank’s door.
She’d figure something out. But she had better not let Brian know that she was worried.
Or she’d definitely lose whatever game they were playing with each other.
A limousine picked Mark up at his hotel on the waterfront, not far from the Boston Garden. When he got in, Roxanne greeted him with a big smile. Her plush coat and mane of rich hair made her irresistibly huggable, but he didn’t bother trying. He greeted her instead with a light kiss on the cheek.
“Wow, you really are going all-out to woo me into getting you this promo deal, aren’t you? And it may even work, too, if you keep up like this.” Sitting back in the deep seat he relaxed as much as he could.
Pouring champagne for them both, she raised her glass for a toast. “Here’s to a successful evening,” she said, and brought the glass to her parted lips.
Her gaze was riveted on him. He had trouble keeping up his smile with his anxiety making his mouth quiver.
He took a sip of champagne. When she looked at him that way he found it difficult to hide the effect it had.
He struggled to concentrate on not spilling his drink.
“I know I won’t forget the evening even if nothing else happens.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“I take it that means nothing is going to happen between us, Roxy? All this special treatment is only to get the promo? Not even a little because you want me?” He was doing it again, but damn, he couldn’t help himself.
He knew better than to try and push this woman into a corner.
He was bound to get scratched. Ever since his divorce he’d been hinting that he wanted to see her seriously, but she refused to budge an inch.
She wasn’t interested in any kind of commitment to him, least of all marriage.
That message had been made clear, as he remembered, the night of Don’s death.
He’d pushed then because she’d been separated and he figured it was his opening. But he’d pushed too hard.
“Of course, Mark. I don’t drink champagne with just anyone. Driver, go around the block. We don’t want to arrive just yet. We haven’t had a chance to talk about the deal.”
Mark laughed at her. It seemed she could make him feel like a million with such little effort.
“I do want to put together a promo for the hospital tonight first. Then we can enjoy the game.” She patted his hand in that warm way she had, making him feel special.
It was pure torture. He didn’t know what to think anymore.
He was crazy to think about her at all. He was acting like a fool reacting to her this way and if he kept it up, he’d deserve what he got—or didn’t get.
He straightened himself slightly. “Nothing wrong with that. By the way, I understand you’re a personal friend of Brian Dennis. True?”
“True.”
“Lucky guy. Should I be jealous?”
“Why stop now?” Her smile faded.