Playing the Game (23 page)

The gym door banged open and this time Barry and Dave stepped outside. Roxanne caught Barry’s eye immediately and he walked toward her, looking her and her car over with appreciation and his lopsided grin in place. Roxanne’s automatic response was to smile. Dave followed Barry after he saw where Barry was headed. Barry came to a stop a few feet in front of her and let out a long, loud wolf whistle, then moved closer.

“You do make an inviting picture. You ever think about doing ads to sell these cars?” he suggested. Roxanne laughed and he continued. “They asked me to do a Corvette ad once and I turned them down. But I could never have sold as many cars for them as you could.”

Dave nodded in agreement and let out a sigh.

“Would you like to join us for lunch, Dave?” Roxanne asked with a sincere smile, almost hoping he would. Dave shot his eyebrows up in surprise.

“No thanks. My wife’s expecting me home for lunch. Maybe another time—my treat.”

“It’s a date.”

“Don’t tell my wife that.” Dave laughed over his shoulder as he headed toward the Jeep Cherokee parked next to Barry’s car. Barry placed a hand on either side of her, bracing himself against the car.

“Are you sure this is a business lunch?” His grin was still in place, but his eyes only half hid the fiery blue blaze. Roxanne gazed up at his face, her eyes drawn to his.

“Let’s put it this way: I do have some business to take care of with you, but it won’t take long. The rest of my afternoon is yours.” She parted her lips slightly with her head tilted backward. She didn’t know if he would kiss her, but she invited him. She couldn’t remember ever being more enthralled with a man. The thudding loudness in her veins as her blood pumped through was an exhilarating feeling she wished she could capture and hold forever. At the same time, she knew that was as impossible as capturing this man, entirely. The sigh that she let out came as a surprise to her and it caused Barry’s brows to arch.

“I was about to commit a cardinal sin and drag you away to my bedroom for the afternoon—the business and the game be damned.” He sighed as if with regret.

She didn’t believe him.

“But I came to my senses in the nick of time. I’m rather proud of myself. Maybe some of my sanity is returning.” Barry pushed himself back from the car without touching her and folded his arms across his chest, still firing his blazing eyes at her.

“I’d still be careful if I were you. I have a lot more weapons in my arsenal—if I wanted to use them.” She turned and opened her car door, gesturing for him to get in the passenger side.

He shook his head before he moved from the spot. “I’m doomed.”

She drove them to a quiet restaurant, The Colorado Grill in Brookline, not far from the gym. They were shown to the table she had reserved earlier. The hostess left their menus and Roxanne lifted her briefcase onto the table, popped it open, and pulled out a folder and two pens.

“What’s this?”

“The business I told you about. Do you want to sign on the dotted line now or would you rather I explain what signing first?”

“You want me to trust you?”

Roxanne laughed at his mock indignation. At least she thought it was a mock. “That would be asking a bit much. Okay, here’s the deal. This is a contract in which you agree to be the public spokesperson for a campaign soliciting donations for the Dr. Oki Fund—a special fund for children’s medical research in the area of burn and trauma treatment. It’s the program that Lindy is receiving treatment from. The contract period is from now until May 30th.

“You would agree to make a number of public appearances on behalf of the Fund and no less than two television commercials, which would have to be shot by the end of February.” She finished speaking. She never took her eyes off his stony face. She turned the contract toward him and flipped it open to the clipped page for his signature. She held the pen out to him, concentrating on keeping her hand steady. She felt her stomach roiling, but she didn’t flinch.

He sat, not making a move to take the pen from her, not looking at the document in front of him, but at her. She stared back at him, careful to remain businesslike. She was prepared to have to persuade him, although she hoped he would be agreeable to it without more than her reference to Lindy’s treatment. But from his unsmiling face and the expressionless eyes, she knew he was going to put up a fight.

“What? Are you fucking crazy? The only reason I don’t stand up and walk out of here right now is that I’m damned curious to know what the hell you think you’re doing. You think because my daughter is in your damned hospital you can suck me into this fucking fund-raising racket?” He took a deep breath and looked away. “Besides—I came here in your God damned car.”

She smiled, but he remained expressionless. She supposed that was better than a scowl of anger on top of his angry words. But then she remembered this was his game face; the face he wore to war; the face he used when he played to win. She searched her mind for what to say to him.

“I’m not crazy, Barry. And I’m not trying to take advantage of you. I’m desperate.” She didn’t whine. She didn’t embellish. She didn’t complain. She only stated the bare fact of the matter. It was all she had.

His face fell into his hands as he leaned forward. He lifted his head after a moment. The blaze of his eyes burned directly at hers. She took a quick breath at the intensity of his focus, his taut look, the clench of his jaw.

“Fuck! I’m fucked. Do you know what you’re asking—no forcing—me to do? I can’t say no because somewhere, deep down, I must have some decency left in me. But it was buried so long ago even I’m surprised it’s still there. Shit. Do you know what you’re asking? This fucking fund drive of yours goes smack through the whole fucking season all the way through the play-offs! How the hell am I going to make appearances?”

“Other athletes do it all the time,” she insisted.

“I’m not ‘other athletes.’ I’m having a hard enough time getting in to see my own fucking daughter. God damn, Roxanne.” He paused and looked around them and took a deep breath before he continued. “Let me just give you the fucking money.” His eyes looked wild and imploring.

Her throat tightened. She’d never seen him like this before. Now he was the desperate one and she didn’t understand why. A ball of vile rose to clog her already tight throat. She couldn’t speak, could barely breathe.

A plate clattered to the floor somewhere. She became aware of her surroundings again. She took some stabilizing breaths and lowered her shaky hand. She gathered her poise to speak.

“Do you have twelve million dollars handy?” she asked quietly.

“Fuck. I’d have to sell most of my investments and probably at a loss.” He looked away from her now, rubbing his chin. He appeared calmer. She felt her face flush with surprised shame that she’d asked for a piece of him when she realized he would seriously consider giving her millions of dollars rather than time. He muttered one more curse, grabbed the pen from the table, and scrawled his name across the signature line.

Despite having witnessed the anguish it cost him, she smiled. Her racing heart slowed to normal. Whatever mysterious reasons he had for his battle with himself, she felt strangely proud of him. Maybe she could get him to put out more effort for his daughter.

“Now get this God damned thing out of my face. And don’t talk to me about it until you have to. I don’t even want to think how much of myself I just signed away.”

“Don’t worry. It won’t take much time…”

“Time? You think that’s all it is?

Roxanne leaned back in her seat and opened her mouth, then closed it again. She thought for a moment. It wasn’t about time, was it? She had enough time to do both her jobs, but it was something else that was needed besides time. Energy? More than that. Commitment—emotional commitment.

“I suppose not,” she said. Roxanne felt confused. Her throat constricted again. Her momentary pleasure and pride faded. She studied Barry’s face as he looked at her. She licked her lips.

“I’m sorry, Barry. I know it’s going to be hard for you. But if it’s any consolation, I think you’re doing the right thing.” She paused, then smiled. “I’m glad there was some decency left in you. I kind of thought there might be.”

He quirked his mouth in a faint version of his lopsided grin. “You mean in spite of everything you’ve heard about me? I’ve turned down these charity things before, except a couple off-season things and whatever the organization insists on. Maybe Lindy has a stronger hold on me than I thought. Maybe I am more than an uncle-daddy. It’s impossible to say no to something that might benefit her.

“One thing I know for sure. It’s going to be a hell of a fucking season. I’m not at all sure I want to venture a guess at the outcome. If the start’s been any sign, I’m in for a roller coaster ride.” He stared at the saltshaker he’d been tossing up and down with one hand.

Roxanne certainly had nothing to add to that comment. She was in for a ride herself. The next six months didn’t look to be a walk in the park for her either. Between the Dr. Oki Fund, trying to do two jobs, not to mention the notion of Penelope having a detective snooping around, she had her own problem with balls in the air. Roxanne shifted uneasily in her seat as she joined Barry in watching his methodical toss of the saltshaker.

The waitress approached the table and stood, clearing her throat before either of them looked up.

“Can you get me a pack of cigarettes please—and a cup of coffee.” Barry looked at the waitress with those brilliant blue eyes and Roxanne saw the girl fairly gasp. She didn’t know if it was his blazing stare of his request for cigarettes that startled the girl, but she scurried away before Roxanne could ask for a thing. Not that she wanted anything. She was decidedly unhungry.

“Now you’ve blown your secret.”

Barry looked at her and snapped his fingers in a gesture of mock regret. She laughed and he looked at her with that lopsided grin that would forever hold a treasured place in her memory. No matter what else happened, she decided.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Harry didn’t smile when Roxanne threw the signed contract on the small round table for Laura and him to see. Laura flipped to the signature page to see Barry Dennis’s scrawled name across the bottom.

“This is great. I’ll start getting on the phone right away and put things in motion now that we have something solid to push. It will make my job a lot easier,” Laura said. She began to rise, taking the contract with her.

“Wait. You said you had some things for me relating to my holiday benefit party,” Roxanne stopped her. Laura’s smile faded and she looked away.

“Oh, that. You don’t really want that stuff now.” Laura started to walk toward the door.

“Bills?” Roxanne guessed. Laura nodded. “How much?”

“The invitations, the catering deposit, miscellaneous linens, postage, et cetera. So far it comes to about thirty-five hundred dollars.” Laura wrinkled her nose as she stood looking at Roxanne.

Roxanne raised her eyes skyward, blew out a whistle and put her chin in her hand. “Shit.” She looked at Harry who was now frowning. He looked like he was about to say something, but Roxanne wasn’t going to let him try. She was prepared for this eventuality, not that she had the money sitting in the bank waiting to pay the bills. This was only the beginning of the bills for this party. She expected it to run her about ten thousand dollars altogether. And she knew what she had to do to pay for it. She stood.

“Time for me to go see Al again.” She pushed back the sleeve of her sweater and ripped the diamond-studded Rolex from her wrist. She heard Laura gasp and looked at her friend’s stunned face.

“Don’t worry, Laura. I have a Timex at home.”

Al was a partner in a successful law firm in Government Center and their offices were duly impressive, Roxanne noted as she pushed open the heavy wooden door. The receptionist greeted her and buzzed Al immediately. They’d been expecting her.

Roxanne didn’t bother to sit in one of the low upholstered chairs. In site of her earlier bravado, the fact that she had to sell her Rolex bothered her. Not that she would miss the watch, but it was the last thing she had left in her jewelry box worth much.

What would she do now in a pinch? Her paycheck from the studio covered the barest of living expenses. It didn’t pay the tax bill for the house that was due in less than a month. She was standing there chewing her lip contemplating the next unforeseen financial disaster when Al walked out to the reception area.

“Roxy, it’s good to see you. Come right in—I only had to kick out a bigwig from New York, but it’s worth it to see you.” The receptionist looked at him skeptically and Roxanne laughed, pushing the worries to the back of her mind with another Scarlett O’Hara promise. She would think of what to do later.

Roxanne stood in front of Al’s desk with her hands on her hips, refusing to be intimidated. She glanced out the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the close, dark brick buildings of Boston’s North end. The harbor was visible in the distance.

He came to stand behind her. He stood close without touching her, but his proximity felt uncomfortable. She stilled. He put his hands on her hips and tugged her toward him.

“Al, don’t. It’s strictly business between us,” Roxanne said as she spun away from him. If he hadn’t been helping her out with Penelope’s lawsuit and selling her jewels, she might have let her anger out. She stepped around him and flopped into one of the visitor’s chairs to calm down.

He turned and stood with folded arms and watched her sitting there while she bounced her leg up and down over her knee to relieve her tension. He stood in front of her. She continued to hold her tongue and her judgment. She watched him watch her.

“Why?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know. Because you’re married?” she said. There was no way he could possibly argue with her. He half sat on the edge of the desk, his arms still folded, still watching her. She supposed he was disappointed, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t remember giving him a particular reason to feel entitled.