Chapter 4 #3
“Come on, Rox. How hooked is he?” He forced his smile, hoping she’d scoff at him for being ridiculous, but knowing already that there was something between them.
He knew of Brian Dennis’s reputation with women.
The man didn’t fool around. Laura hadn’t said much, but he could tell by her hesitation that Roxanne and Brian’s meeting at a party had been more than that.
“Maybe you can ask him. Want to meet him?” she asked.
He shook his head, thrown off by her unhesitating smile. But then he saw the twinkle in her eyes. He nodded his head. He may as well see for himself.
She directed the driver to arrive at last. “It’s still early enough to catch Brian at his pregame practicing shooting ritual,” Roxanne said and took a deep breath, almost a sigh, as he followed her into the building next to the Garden past a checkpoint where she showed a guard her pass.
“Something wrong?” He touched her shoulder lightly, running his fingers over the soft material of her coat. She looked up at him, pausing for a beat before lighting her face with her irresistible smile.
“No. Of course not. I’m excited about tonight. I haven’t seen you in a while.” She stopped walking. “I’ve missed you. Tonight will be fun. We can catch up.”
His heart nearly stopped and he couldn’t take his eyes from hers. Maybe he was all wrong.
“I’ve missed you too. I always miss you.” He leaned toward her and when he would have kissed her, some people passed them in the hall and she turned away.
They walked through a cavernous garage where the team parked, walked on by the locker room, and finally arrived at the basketball court.
“I’m impressed, Rox. I didn’t expect a behind the scenes Garden tour. But leave it to you.” Mark shook his head as he looked out over the floor. He felt more hopeful, at least for the moment.
“I couldn’t get courtside seats, so tonight we’ll have to settle for half-court.
” Her smile bubbled as she stopped at the edge of the parquet floor and spread her arms dramatically as if introducing a masterpiece.
And she was. Brian Dennis stood, what seemed like miles from the basket, and swished the ball through the hoop in time for them to see.
Mark was impressed in spite of himself and his apprehension was renewed.
The rest of the court came into focus after Brian let the ball fly out of his hands and he realized he had company.
They were not the usual scattered reporters and camera operators who unobtrusively sat and watched his solitary ritual.
The big lights had just been turned on as if announcing Roxanne’s entrance.
Brian’s mouth quirked into the half-smile upon seeing her standing there on the threshold of the court with her arms spread out, acting for all the world as if this place were hers to show off.
He stared again up at the basket, gauging the distance exactly. He set himself squarely on his feet, feeling with his fingers for the seams in the ball. It was all automatic and took a fraction of a second before he tossed the ball into the hoop where it swished through the net.
Scooping the ball up from the floor, he dribbled over to where she stood.
It wasn’t until Brian stood in front of her that he noticed the man she was with.
The sudden shock of panic jolted through him before he could tell himself it was nothing.
His self-confidence was completely drained in an instant.
There weren’t many occasions in his life when he went out and sought the attentions of a woman, but when he had it was a given that she would respond.
That she would be his for the taking. Until now.
The feeling that ran through him at that moment was too close to the sickening pain of failure.
He fought with himself to stay rational.
This woman was not his, nor did he want her to be his, he told himself.
He didn’t bother trying to tell himself that there was probably nothing between her and the man that stood with her.
He knew her too well already to believe that.
Besides, it only took one glance at the way the man looked at her to know definitively how he felt.
He couldn’t tell, of course, how the hell she felt.
But it didn’t matter. All the rationalizing in the world on his part would not justify her bringing another man on a night that was supposed to be his.
Brian’s defenses were shored up, turning his uncertainty into anger.
But he had to be careful. He did not want her to mistake his anger for jealousy.
“Come in early to harass me, Rox?” He tossed the ball in the air and watched it spin while he tried to avoid the interested gaze of the man with her. Laughter bubbled beneath the surface of her twinkling eyes.
“To the contrary. I came to inspire you.” She turned to Mark and introduced him as a business associate. But Brian could see clearly that he was being sized up by the man as if he were competition.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brian. My son idolizes you. He’ll be thrilled to hear about this.”
“Married man, eh?” Brian questioned as he took the pen from Mark’s hand, but rejected the piece of paper. He didn’t care if he sounded judgmental. It was aimed at her, not him.
“Divorced,” Mark was quick to reply. Brian looked up with his game-face grin before he continued autographing the basketball that he’d been holding.
He handed it over to Mark without further comment.
He was boiling inside now that the lines were drawn.
All that remained to be seen was which side of the line she stood on.
There was no way Brian would allow her to straddle the middle as he was now sure she wanted to do. Business associate my ass.
Roxanne leveled her tight smile at him, though she spoke to Mark. “You’re lucky. I never got such a wonderful souvenir from the illustrious Brian Dennis.”
Brian decided he’d take advantage of his opponent’s vulnerability. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was never to underestimate an opponent and always to seize opportunities. The killer instinct, his father used to say, is what separates winners from losers, the great from the good.
“You can have anything you want from me, Rox. After all, I owe you.” He took enormous pleasure in the quick fade of her smile.
He knew that she was used to being in control and it was a joy for him to snatch a little of it away from her.
He watched the color drain from Mark’s face.
Mark’s mouth opened but he said nothing. Two points.
She quickly regained her footing with a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. We’re going to take a walk. We’ll let you go now. Don’t forget dinner later—that is, if you win.” Roxanne took Mark’s arm and led him away, winking at Brian over her shoulder.
“I haven’t forgotten,” Brian assured her and he had to chuckle as the two departed.
Roxanne all decked out looked sumptuous.
He scolded himself for looking forward to the conclusion of that night’s game even before it started.
After all her teasing and dangling that man Mark in front of him, Brian decided she wanted him.
Besides, she was worth taking a chance for. His competitive spirit won out. Any insecurities he’d had were pushed to somewhere so far back in his mind that he now felt sorry for Mark.
He turned to see a couple of teammates emerging from the locker room area to do some warming up.
Game time was approaching and it was time to clear his mind of all else but thoughts of winning.
Yet heading for the locker room, he found his mind wandering.
He couldn’t keep himself from thinking about what would happen after they won.
He kicked the wall.
“Damn.” He felt lit with anger and when he looked up he saw Dave.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing. We just have to win that’s all.” Brian started to brush past Dave, embarrassed by his outburst. He was usually quiet and introspective. He had no time to waste in preparing.
“Wait. Ho.” Dave reached his massive hand out to Brian’s shoulder to stop him. “We are going to win.” He smiled. “We usually do.” Dave said no more, then let Brian go.
Unconsoled, but appreciative of the break, Brian headed for his quiet corner in the locker room to tackle the seemingly impossible task of harnessing all the concentration and energy he possessed and channeling it toward winning this game.
It wasn’t as automatic a process as it used to be.
His usually well-disciplined mind had been on vacation lately.
He walked into the open door of the locker room, took a right, and headed for the narrow stall that bore his name.
He sat in the chair and put his head in his hands, thankful for the relative emptiness of the room.
Linking his hands behind his neck, he bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He drew in his mind the picture of a scoreboard, with Boston ahead by one at the final buzzer.
He imagined the crowd screaming and his teammates jumping in the air.
He imagined a championship banner being hoisted to the rafters.
There were more cheers, deafening cheers.
But there was the game tonight and he forced his mind to go back.
Mentally positioning himself in each spot around the basket, he threw the ball over and over again in his mind.
Then he conjured up the opponent and in his head he and his teammates beat each one of them with three-on-one plays, two-on-one plays, four-on-two plays, and one-on-one until he went over in his mind nearly every play combination they.
In his mind he and his teammates beat their opponents, and as always, the crowd cheered.
Even when they were on the road, at least in his mind.
He blinked his eyes and sat up. He looked around and now the air felt different, as if it were electrically charged.
He saw everything all at once. He was ready to play this game.