Playing the Game (13 page)

As she pulled into her driveway, her cell phone beeped with a missed call. She fished it out of her bag as she walked inside. Barry had called. She stared at it and then tossed the phone in the direction of the kitchen table, where it landed in the fruit basket.

“Two points for you, girl.” Bonnie stood in the doorway expectantly. “What’s the problem now? There’s always something with you, and it’s always about money. Or men,” Bonnie said, shaking her head as she walked into the room. Roxanne walked past the woman and toward the stairs to go up to her room. She waved Bonnie to follow.

“Of course you’re right. And it’s all that man’s fault.” Roxanne shook her finger back toward the basket where her cell phone lay. The guilt twisted her gut as she said it.

“Which man was that?” Bonnie asked as they walked into Roxanne’s room.

Roxanne went immediately to her favorite chair and plopped down in front of the cold fireplace. “Barry Dennis.”

“Oh him. I thought you went to see Mark about some fund-raising deal for the doctor?” The older woman lowered herself carefully into the chair opposite Roxanne.

“I did.”

“Mark won’t give you the deal for the doctor?”

“Nope.” She didn’t bother with surprise at how Bonnie had discerned this. The woman was psychic—where she was concerned anyway. Always had been. “Some baloney about the cause not being broad enough in scope. But what it really came down to is…” She felt the shame now. Confessing to Bonnie forced her to admit yet another mistake. No matter how lonely she felt, no matter how much she craved a connection, she couldn’t handle it. She didn’t know how to connect emotionally with a man. That had been her problem with Don. She was no better at it now.

“Let me guess. He wanted a more intimate relationship. You didn’t. He thought maybe you two had something and you should have known better and kept up your guard. But you didn’t.” Bonnie summed it up.

Roxanne tried not to cringe. She sat up straight and took a deep breath. She needed to face facts.

“Now what are you going to do? At least Mr. Dennis is still talking to you.” Bonnie said. “And maybe you shouldn’t go introducing any more men to him, business or no business.” She was right of course.

“It was Barry’s fault. He didn’t have to be so…so…competitive about it. He practically challenged Mark to a duel.” Roxanne knew she was exaggerating, but she also knew Bonnie knew she was, and had in fact come to expect it and even enjoyed the melodrama.

“He did?” Bonnie laughed. Roxanne loved to make her laugh. She smiled watching the woman now.

“You know what I mean—he challenged Mark with his eyes. It was the killer look in his eyes that set Mark off.” Roxanne sobered a little now thinking of it. “So much so I’m afraid I haven’t even got a friend left, not even so much as a working colleague. When Mark leaves town today, I doubt he’ll ever come back.” She leaned her head on her hands and stared into the empty fireplace.

“He wasn’t man enough to accept you as a friend, then it’s his loss more than yours. It’s like Don all over again. But you can’t be someone you’re not.” Bonnie paused when Roxanne looked up at her. Maybe she didn’t like who she was. She wanted to fall in love with a man. She needed to feel it.

“As for the money. You’ll think of something,” Bonnie finished.

“Oh, I will. But I wish I could come up with something right now.” She needed to clear her mind and think only about the real problem, at lest the one problem she might be able to solve—money.

She did not return Barry’s call.

The Children’s Mercy Hospital League meeting was a regular monthly event and she was worried about squeezing it in with her TV job and not getting fired again for being late or unavailable. As chair, Roxanne couldn’t miss the meetings. She had the floor. She’d worked long hours on her off time to prepare something substantial to give the hospital staff. They looked to her for direction as one of the senior board members as well as chairperson of the League. Most of the men and women were already aware of the new fund being set up, but the major donor and who would be assigned to the project was not decided on yet.

“As committee chair of the Dr. Oki Research Fund,” Roxanne paused as the various people in the room giggled at her mock pomposity. The CMH League volunteers operated as an auxiliary arm to the hospital development staff. Roxanne was the liaison between the league and the hospital. She’d been voted chair because she’d been personally responsible for not only the cover article in
Newsweek
on Dr. Oki’s research, but for bringing in over five million dollars in two years by carefully choreographed events and contacts.

Dr. Oki smiled at her now. He was in attendance at this meeting at her special request. She continued.

“After establishing the special research fund for Dr. Oki, due to a severe and sudden need which I’m sure you are all aware of by now, I began to explore several avenues of possible sources. We need lots of money fast. We need to run the type of campaign we’ve never tried before. Therefore we will all vote now on my proposal to do a high-powered ad campaign with a major star as spokesperson. Of course we need a substantial amount of up-front money to get this off the ground, but we already have ten thousand dollars.” They clapped when she sat. The vote on the project was close. Roxanne noted a faction of dissent from the same group as always, but they seemed to be louder and more numerous today.

The meeting was adjourned and Dr. Oki smiled appreciatively when he came up to Roxanne. “I have a feeling we’ll do better next year without the grant. You really know how to turn a disaster around.” She responded by giving the doctor a warm hug.

“Don’t be premature. We haven’t got any money in our hands yet,” Laura said. Roxanne looked at her friend Laura with mock disgust.

“Nope. Leave it to you to point that out. But we do have a good plan if I do say so myself.”

“It’s only a good plan if we can carry it off,” Laura persisted. “I noticed Don’s cousin, Roger Smythe, in attendance today, and he, of course, resisted the idea. He never comes to these meetings.”

“True.” Roxanne refused to say or think more of it right then.

“There is one other thing that’s bothering me.” Laura’s tone was serious.

“What is it?”

“Who are we going to get for the spokesperson? We need someone big, and after all, this is pretty much a local campaign. What really big star do we have locally that…” Laura didn’t continue as Roxanne widened her smile with every word.

“I have someone very big in mind. No need to worry.”

Dr. Oki looked from one woman to the other. By the look on Laura’s face, not quite a gasp, not quite a smile, Roxanne knew she had figured out who the spokesperson would be.

“Okay, ladies. I give up. Who is it?”

“Should I tell him? After all, I haven’t confirmed it yet. Maybe I should wait until I know for sure.” Roxanne felt a twinge.

Laura laughed.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.” Laura turned to Dr. Oki. “The spokesperson for the Dr. Oki Research Fund will be none other than the illustrious Barry Dennis.”

Dr. Oki’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

“Everyone knows he never does publicity and very little charity work, especially not in the middle of basketball season,” Dr. Oki said.

“Don’t worry, Doc. Barry is a close personal friend of mine.” Roxanne felt compelled to reassure him.

“I’m sure you must know what you’re doing, Roxy, but be careful. I have to be going now. I’m late already.” Dr. Oki left.

Roxanne beckoned Laura to accompany her to the development office. They had planned to work on plans for her holiday benefit gala. The room had a couch and a small round table surrounded by comfortable chairs to serve her nicely when she was there. The two women went into the room and sat at the table. Roxanne could tell that Laura had something to say, but she hesitated for some reason.

“Okay, what is it?”

“I saw you with Barry at the Celtics Tribute party.”

“Yes. That’s what I was saying.”

“You’re using your personal relationship to gain an edge for the fund-raising campaign.”

“Damn it, that’s what we do. That’s what fund-raising is all about, Laura. We all do it.”

“I know. But we don’t all get into trouble over it. I’m thinking about Mark Baines.”

“Barry Dennis is no Mark Baines, believe me. He has no vulnerability. If there’s anyone you should be worried about it’s me. I have a genuine interest in Barry that has nothing to do with this fund-raising campaign.” She decided to admit her fear. “I’m kind of worried about it.”

“Don’t worry. It’s probably temporary. I hear he has that effect on women. I hope the campaign doesn’t interfere in your relationship—the way it did with Mark,” Laura said.

“What do you know about Mark?” Roxanne put down her pencil.

“He called me. He also talked to Harry. I’m surprised Harry hasn’t called you on the carpet about it. I understand you’re no longer dealing with Mark or his company’s project,” Laura said.

“No. I wasn’t going to sell my soul and use his affections. I misjudged the situation with Mark but I’m not going to make the same mistake with Barry. I do intend to influence Barry, however. I will take advantage of my inside opportunities, as we all do in this business, but any expressions of affection will be strictly sincere. None of this will have any effect on our relationship whatsoever—such as it is.” She was confident in spite of the skeptical face Laura had for her.

“If there’s one thing you’re good at, Roxy it’s ignoring possible problems and plunging right in. But whether actual problems crop up or not, you’ll manage in the end. I have no doubt.” Laura patted her arm.

“Thanks. I needed that.” Roxanne thought of Mark and how he would have been invited to her upcoming holiday benefit gala, as they went over the guest list.

“Don’s cousin sent his money in.” Laura announced. Roxanne was surprised he hadn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of a good cause. He was a bigger man than she thought.

“Don’t worry, he won’t actually show up,” she assured Laura.

Two years ago the area’s entertainment community had been solicited to attend the holiday benefit. Several well-recognized celebrities showed up and so the reporters and photographers followed.

The feat now was to maintain a certain number of famous faces among the crowd, and the turnout could be guaranteed year after year. The party had become important, not only because fifty to seventy-five thousand dollars could be generated in one night, but because of the high profile PR that resulted.

That night she walked through the door leading from the garage to her kitchen well after dark. She was still wearing three-inch red heels and the black and white checked suit that she left in that morning. Drinks with Mr. Dently had dragged on longer than she had anticipated. She avoided looking at the stack of unpaid bills on the kitchen table. Bonnie walked in from her room, already dressed in her robe and slippers.

“You’re awfully late. I don’t suppose you ate any supper?”

Roxanne shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. You sit and kick off those ridiculous shoes. I’ll pop some beef stew in the microwave. It’s just what you need, a nice hot meal in you.” Bonnie shook her head at Roxanne, so Roxanne figured she must look as beat as she felt and followed the woman’s instructions.

“Bonnie, how is it possible for one person to be having an absolutely wonderful time while the other person is thoroughly bored and miserable?”

“I hope you didn’t offend the man. Knowing you, he was probably only too aware of your boredom.”

Roxanne made a face and Bonnie chuckled.

“I don’t know if I can keep this up. I had Laura schedule me for five appointments a day on my days off from the studio for the next two weeks, and then the invitations go out, and then I have to meet with the caterer, the florist, the musicians, the press people…I don’t know, Bonnie. Either this year’s holiday gala is bigger than last year’s, or I’m getting old.” Roxanne blew a loose strand of hair from her face and with her elbows on the table, she put her chin in her hands and watched the woman she called her maid. Paying the bills for all that concerned her most, but she didn’t have to tell Bonnie.

“I’ll tell you what I think. I might recall this same conversation going on, oh, about a year ago about last year’s party. You always manage. And you’ll manage the money too.”

Roxanne sat up. “Did I get any calls?”

“Not here. Not from him. I didn’t think he would call again. Seems to me to be the type of man that doesn’t have to go begging for attention. He gives you your chance and then that’s it.” Bonnie put a steaming dish with a man-sized portion of beef stew in front of her.

“You don’t plan to call him back do you?” Bonnie scolded.

Roxanne had to smile as she dug into the meal with her usual zest for Bonnie’s cooking. She would never be the slim type, but then she could never see the virtues of eating like a waif anyway, especially when presented with good food like this.

“Maybe, maybe not. You don’t understand our relationship. It’s very casual. No commitments of any kind, just fun. It’s perfect, really, and it’s exactly what we both want.”

“Mmm hhmm,” was all Bonnie said.

Roxanne nearly choked on her stew. She figured the woman was too smart to rise to the bait now, or too tired. Normally they would engage in a lively debate about Roxanne’s theories on relationships. Roxanne had never been in love. Maybe her father was right and she should never let herself fall in love. But no, that couldn’t be true. She wasn’t sure why or if she ever would, or even if maybe it was a good thing, but never having experienced that special feeling she had a hard time understanding what drove romantic relationships and people. Like Don. She wanted to be loved, but she found it wasn’t so wonderful unless you loved the person back the same way.

Since Don died, she hadn’t had any relationships with anyone, besides business colleagues like Mark, until Barry came along. She hadn’t even gone out except in the line of duty.