Read Playing the Game Online

Authors: Stephanie Queen

Playing the Game (21 page)

“She’s trouble all right. I used to be able to avoid trouble so easily. I’d just say to myself ‘Barry, don’t go near that woman’ and I wouldn’t. And it was no big deal. This time I didn’t even bother warning myself. I just plunged right in, consequences be damned.”

“What you need is a good scare to get your heart to start pumping again. I just hope it doesn’t cost the team too much in the standings,” Dave said. He added a smile.

Barry yanked his sweater over his head and picked up his gym bag. “Speaking of food—let’s have lunch. I’m buying,” Barry said.

Dave grabbed his bag and grinned. “I’m in. Even if we weren’t talking about food—unless you mean the dishy Roxanne. I will say—if you have to go down, buddy, at least you’re going with a beauty and having fun along the way.” He slapped Barry’s back.

“Yes, I did rather enjoy myself after the game last night. About as much as I enjoyed playing the game. Can’t say that I recall that happening too often.” Barry looked at his friend, who shook his head in disbelief.

“I don’t know why we’re worried. You still have a long way to fall before you get back to earth.” Barry sighed to himself, partly with relief and partly with discomfort.

Kevin was out in the parking lot, entering something on the screen of his electronic tablet while he talked with the coach. Barry waved to him and he steered Dave in the direction of the pair. Dave looked at Barry with raised brows. Barry reached in his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to Kevin.

“Here’s that number you wanted. Take care of yourself now.”

 

 

Chapter 11

 

 

ROXANNE STOPPED short at the door of Lindy’s room. The BCNU was empty. She turned on her heel and called for the nurse. Her heart pounded. She struggled to keep the shrillness of panic from her voice.

“Nurse, where’s Lindy Dennis?”

“Oh, you must be Ms. Monet. We tried to phone you earlier when we moved Lindy to another room.”

Roxanne took a deep breath and blew it out. She felt like hugging this young woman for the good news. “Thank you for that news.” She dug in her bag and checked her cell phone to find that she had two messages waiting. She didn’t bother listening now.

“Mr. Paris told us you’d be concerned and to let you know she was being moved.”

“How thoughtful. I’ll have to give Paul a call and thank him.” She cringed at the thought that it was Paul and not Barry who seemed to be in control of the situation.

“I suppose I shouldn’t say, but I heard talk that Lindy’s real father, Barry Dennis, hasn’t been to visit in a week. I don’t know if it’s true, but I haven’t seen him and believe me, I’ve watched for him. I know he’s busy and all, with all the traveling, but it seems a shame.” The nurse’s frown was genuine.

Roxanne could see the young woman torn between concern for her patient and the excitement of a good juicy piece of gossip.

She sped to Lindy’s new room as soon as she found out where it was, bursting through the door to greet the child. Lindy looked up with her small features cast in a smile, causing tears to form in Roxanne’s eyes. The moment she realized she might cry, Roxanne forced a smile in return and tightened the grip on her emotions. They ran entirely too free for her welfare lately.

“Roxy! I’m so glad you found me. I was so worried you wouldn’t know where I was when they moved me. I made Daddy promise to tell you.” Lindy reached out for her.

Roxanne moved toward the child. She cringed again with the knowledge that it was Paul Paris that Lindy referred to as her Daddy.

“Don’t worry. I would have found you no matter what.” Even the nurse looked up at the gravity in Roxanne’s voice. She forced herself to speak in a lighter tone.

“I went to Washington D.C. yesterday and I brought you a surprise.” Lindy’s eyes lit up when she saw the Martha Washington doll Roxanne pulled from behind her back. She’d searched the shops for anything that might interest a little girl until she’d finally spotted the doll.

“It’s so pretty. Daddy’s right. He says you’re too good to me.”

Roxanne wasn’t sure which daddy she was referring to now. Lindy seemed to be constantly quoting one of them. She thought of her own girlhood, but when the cold picture of her distant book-minded father came into her head, she decided that was a bad idea.

“When is Daddy Barry coming to see me? Did you see him? Did you ask?” Lindy blurted out.

The question froze her blood. “Yes. I saw him.” She didn’t know what else to say. She chewed her lip and thought she could taste blood this time. “He’ll be in. Very soon. You know Lindy, your father has a very busy schedule during basketball season—like Paul does during baseball. He has to juggle things and he’s not used to that. You have to be patient with him. I know he loves you very much…”

“He does? Did he tell you that?”

“Yes, he did.” She gritted her teeth with the white lie. He would pay for this. She then pushed him from her mind and concentrated on not crying in front of this little angel. She stayed only a short while to tell all about her trip and when it was time to go, she promised to return the next day as usual.

 

 

The first message Roxanne found on her cell phone when she finally had a chance to check after a quick meeting with Harry was from Laura. She listened.

“Rox, I’ve been talking to the TV people to get us air time and they seem to be very interested in who the spokesperson is before they make a commitment to the ad campaign. You’re going to have to lock in Barry Dennis now so we can proceed.”

Roxanne grimaced, not at the message, but at herself for not asking Barry that morning when she had the chance. Somehow the time hadn’t seemed right. Now she’d have to suck it up and call him back. The thought caused a queasy feeling in her gut. Her hands felt clammy. She had a lot she’d like to say to the man. She puzzled over that as she tapped in his number. It was none of her business how he handled his daughter. She kept forgetting that. She didn’t feel like Lindy was none of her business. She didn’t feel like anything about Barry was none of her business.
That made no sense. She must be losing her mind
.

Getting his voice mail as she expected, she left the message to call her back without saying why. After spending the rest of the afternoon making phone calls for the CMH league and studying the material the research people at channel seven had come up with on the talent for her interview the next day, she still had to read the book the guy wrote. She ended her day at home, settled down to read at the kitchen while she ate her solitary late supper. It was Bonnie’s night out.

The knock on her back door startled her, but when she looked up she saw Laura through the window.

“What gives? Something important drag you this far away from home or are you bored?” Roxanne let her friend in and went back to her chair and her book, gesturing for Laura to take a seat. Her plate was still full and had cooled to an unappetizing jelled mass. Laura grimaced at it.

“Hello to you too. I’m wondering what the story is with Barry Dennis being the spokesperson?”

Roxanne snapped the book shut and lifted her chin. “He never did call me back.”

“So what. You never called me back,” Laura complained. “What are you doing anyway?” Laura took a seat at the table and glanced at the book.

“Homework for tomorrow’s show,” Roxanne explained. “I wonder why he hasn’t returned my call yet?” She chewed her bottom lip, placed her elbow on the table, her chin in her hands. Laura laughed at her and sat back.

“Well, let’s see now. Retrace your steps. What did you do or say to him when you last saw him? Knowing you, the man could be destroyed by now.”

She remembered their parting that morning and what she did and said to him was far from devastating. “If Barry Dennis is not returning my call because of what I did and said to him this morning, then he’s not the man I thought he was and I don’t want anymore to do with him.”

“So it was that kind of meeting was it? That can scare men away too you know, for different reasons. Don’t be too hard on him. He’s a different kind of man.”

“How’s that?”

“He’s on another level. He leads a different kind of life.” Laura shook her head as if she were an expert.

“You shouldn’t let yourself be so impressed with his superstar status, Laura. I don’t think that makes him different.”

“No, but whatever made him a superstar, that’s what makes him different.”

“Oh and what’s that?” Roxanne asked although she had her own theories.

“I don’t know, but I imagine it took hard work, determination and dedication like we couldn’t even dream of. He doesn’t even let his own daughter being in the hospital distract him. Maybe you’re just another threat to his career.” Laura pointed at Roxanne.

“Oh, that’s good.” Roxanne smiled, but she was disturbed by her memory of Barry’s description of himself as a basketball robot. Then she decided it didn’t matter. The bottom line was that he was human and he was a man and that’s the way she was going to continue to treat him.

“Roxy, I’m serious.” Laura looked concerned. Roxanne shook her head at her friend as her cell phone rang.

“That’s probably him now.” She felt confident as she picked up the phone, clicked it on and said hello. She expected to hear Barry’s familiar New York accent.

Instead, the man’s voice was unfamiliar. “Roxanne, this is Kevin Moroni, sports writer with the
Globe
. We met briefly at a charity golf tourney a while back…”

“I remember. What can I do for you?” There was a pause on the other end while Roxanne wondered what he wanted and how he’d gotten her number. But she supposed reporters had their ways.

“Barry Dennis gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind. I was wondering if we could get together. Maybe have dinner …”

She cut him off. “Of course I mind. The only one I want giving out my number is me.” Roxanne stabbed the
end
button and tossed the phone down.

“What’s the matter? Your good humor seems to have left in a hurry,” Laura asked.

“I don’t think Barry is going to return my call. He’s given away my phone number.” Roxanne compressed her mouth, stood and paced around the kitchen. Laura didn’t speak.

Why on earth would he give her number away like that
? She was truly puzzled. She didn’t expect his undying loyalty, but they had definitely left on good terms. Then she decided it didn’t matter. She had said before that their relationship would have no bearing on getting him to be the spokesperson for the Dr. Oki Fund and she meant it. She only hoped it was true.

She finally stopped pacing and let out a sigh.

“What if we can’t get him for spokesperson?” Laura asked the obvious question.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do it. Today’s Friday? We’ll have him by Monday morning. You’ll be back in business next week.”

“But what if you can’t?”

“I’ll think of something.” Roxanne felt she was pushing it with all the Scarlett O’Hara channeling she’d been doing of late. But it couldn’t be helped. She swept her plate from the table and dumped its contents down the garbage disposal. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Let’s go to a party,” Roxanne said and walked toward the back door.

“A party? Were you invited or are we crashing?” Laura rose from her chair.

“I have an open invitation. It’s at my neighbor’s down the street—the musicians.” Roxanne grabbed a jacket and continued out the door, knowing Laura would follow her. Laura stood in the door, reluctant to cross the threshold.

“Musicians? That’s what you call that rock group? You’re too kind. I don’t know, Roxy. I’m not dressed for this,” Laura said, shaking her head as she looked down at herself. Roxanne laughed.

“Probably not. But they have a very lenient dress code.” Roxanne eyed her friend with a smirk. Laura wore her typical weekend attire. Navy blue corduroy pants, white blouse and a green cable knit cardigan with a polo player logo.

“That’s the problem. Look at you—you’ll fit right in,” Laura quipped back.

Roxanne laughed again. “No, I don’t think so. My shirt’s not ripped and my jeans aren’t studded with spikes.” Roxanne looked at herself. She was dressed for hanging around the house, but it didn’t matter. She was going to the party strictly to be neighborly—and to have fun. She always met new and interesting people at those parties. Of course the last one she went to she and Don had had a fight. He never liked going. But that was a long time ago. Roxanne smoothed the legs of her snug jeans. Maybe she should change her top. She was wearing an oversized Celtics sweatshirt with a denim jacket thrown over it and low boots. She glanced back at the kitchen table at the stack of unpaid bills she had left there.

“What is it?” Laura asked.

“Nothing. I was supposed to stay in and pay bills tonight.”

“If you want I can go home.”

Roxanne laughed. “That’s all right. I have no money to pay them with anyway.” She continued to stare at the stack. Anxiety began gnawing from deep inside. Her stomach clenched.

“But you’re working again—I thought your money worries were over.”

“Not even close. This house costs massive amounts of money to keep up. The job pays well, but I’m not a millionaire anymore. That’s the kind of money I’d need to stay here.”

“What about selling jewelry—you have tons of it.”

Guilt sliced through her at Laura’s words. She had never truly appreciated the jewelry—or Don, who’d given it to her. She wished she had.

“I sold a lot of it, but I wanted to save the rest for a real emergency.”

“I know Bonnie is like family to you and you would never turn her away. And selling the house is still not possible?”

She nodded her head. “No. I can’t rent it either. I got a price on the Corvette recently and it turns out a used Corvette isn’t worth a fraction of its original value. God, I wish Penelope would just leave me alone.”

“I don’t know how the judge let her tie you up in court like this over the house. It seems so unfair.” Laura came over and touched her arm.

“I got notice to appear in two days, but Al says don’t count on anything happening. Their strategy is to continue to stall. They know I’m in trouble.” Roxanne sighed and smiled at her friend. “Let’s go.” She dismissed everything with a wave of her hand and a locked door in her mind. She strode out of the house, across her deck to the stairs. She needed the party to distract her from her money troubles and, if she were honest with herself, from thinking about Barry Dennis. She reminded herself they were only playing games. There were times she sensed it could be more, like she could reach out a bit more and make a connection. Sometimes she wanted to. The wanting scared her.

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