Entwined - SF5 (21 page)

Lynette sat for a moment, clearly trying to think of the ramifications of the question. "You would not be the only lesbian on the team," she said thoughtfully. "Coach doesn’t seem to have a problem with that, but I’m not sure I can give you an easy answer. The other lesbian isn’t very popular, but I don’t think it’s because of her sexual orientation." Her brow was knotted in concentration as Ryan waited patiently. "I just can’t answer you definitively, Ryan. All I know is that I’m a lesbian too, and Coach knows it. I’ve never gotten any flak from her, or the administration, but I’m not out to the other players, so I can’t say for sure how they would react."

Ryan nodded thoughtfully and stood, extending her hand to the coach. "You’ve been tremendously helpful, Lynette ," she said. "Jamie and I will discuss it, and I’ll let you know if I want to try out for one of your walk-on spots."

"Ryan," she said as she stood and clasped the strong hand with both of hers, "you won’t have to try out. You’d be the best player on our team if you’d agree to play." Ryan looked a little shocked, but she continued. "The best score on that three-point drill all last year was a 15!"

Ryan’s open-mouthed look caused Lynette to laugh long and hard. "We’d love to have you, and I truly believe that you could help make us competitive in the PAC-10.
I hope you’ll join us."

"Wow," Jamie said softly as they exited the building. "Good thing she’s not selling cars. She’d go broke in a week!"

"Yeah, that was a bit of brutal honesty," Ryan agreed. She turned to her partner and said, "I want to chat about this some more, but if I don’t get some nourishment, I’m afraid I’m gonna cause a scene!"

Jamie’s gentle laugh was accompanied by a playful swat on the seat. "Let’s walk down Telegraph and stop at the first place that gets your attention, Tiger."

They settled on the first place they hit that didn’t have a long line. When the server arrived, Ryan abandoned all pretense of propriety and said, "I’ve gotta have something in my stomach quickly. Bring us whatever appetizer is fastest."

"Let me tell you the specials for the day," the young man replied, ignoring Ryan’s clear request.

"You must not have understood me," she said firmly. "Please go into the kitchen and grab the quickest thing in there. We can chat when you return."

Jamie stared as her as the irritated server sniffed but proceeded to follow her lover’s orders. "I’ve never seen you act so…" she struggled for a term that wasn’t too offensive, but found that she couldn’t think of one.

"I wasn’t kidding," Ryan said softly. As Jamie looked at her carefully, she noticed that under her lover’s tanned face a tinge of gray had replaced the pink hue of good health that she normally exhibited.

"Honey, what’s wrong?" Jamie asked, immediately worried that Ryan might be ill.

"I didn’t get enough to eat today," she muttered, a little angry with herself for failing to take care of her nutritional needs. "After we were done at the spa I was afraid to eat much, since I knew I’d be working my butt off this afternoon. I actually feel kinda sick."

The server returned to unceremoniously drop a platter of antipasto onto the table, with Ryan digging into it so quickly that she nearly made sparks fly. He watched her, a bit in awe, as he described the specials to Jamie. When he finished speaking, Ryan looked up at him with one of her most charming smiles and said, "I apologize for being so abrupt earlier. But I was about to pass out, and I guarantee you wouldn’t want me falling on you."

"That’s okay," he said, completely placated. "You were obviously serious," he added as he watched her continue to plow through the platter as he spoke. "Did you want an entrée too?"

"At least!" she cried, laughing through a mouthful of marinated red peppers.

"Sweetheart," Jamie chided after the server left, "you’ve got to make sure you get a decent meal, especially when you’re working out like this!"

"I know, I know," she agreed. "I didn’t take very good care of myself today. It’s hard to find high-quality snacks that can fuel me when I get into a bind like that."

"Do you have a space at the gym where you can keep things?"

"Yeah, there’s a small locker in the office for each of us."

"Let’s fill it with some things for situations like this. No matter what you do this fall, you’re gonna be stressing your body, and you need to keep your weight up."

"I know. That’s a good idea, Babe."

Their entrees were delivered quickly, and conversation came to a standstill while Ryan polished off her linguini with clam sauce. "Can’t hold a candle to yours," she said dismissively as she eyed Jamie’s veal piccata.

"Go on," she said as she pushed the plate across the table. "I should know better than to ever expect to finish an entrée."

Ryan gave her a guilty look, but nonetheless downed the remainder of the veal dish in moments. While she ate she commented, "Do you think I should consider the basketball team?"

Jamie knew the question was coming and she had already prepared her answer. "If it was me, I would have no interest in being in that hornet’s nest," she said dismissively. "But I don’t think most of the things Lynette said would really bother you. So it all comes down to enjoyment. Do you enjoy playing basketball enough to ignore the bullshit?"

"I think so," Ryan said rather thoughtfully. "I know you don’t think this way, but the fact that it sounds like it’ll be difficult makes it more appealing to me."

Jamie smiled at her and nodded her head. "I might have been wrong about Lynette ," she mused. "A good car salesperson tailors their pitch to their audience. I think she knew that the truth would appeal to you."

"Could be," Ryan agreed with a self-effacing chuckle. "I just hope I’m not buying a lemon with this team."

Later that night, Ryan was just getting down to some serious neck nibbling when Jamie’s cell phone rang, causing the little phone to dance on the dresser. "Umm…mind if I get that?" Jamie was lying prone on the bed, Ryan’s powerful body hovering over her, most of her weight resting on her braced arms.

"Go ahead." Ryan smiled sweetly, not moving a muscle.

A quick tickle to the armpit caused Ryan to rethink her reluctance to move, and she rolled into a not-so-little ball to escape her partner’s twitching fingers. Jamie swatted her on the butt as she scampered off the bed to retrieve the phone. Grabbing it on the sixth ring she panted, "Hello."

"Jamie? Uhh…did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No, Daddy," she said, blushing a little at the sensation of speaking to her father while she was naked, and on the verge of making love. She shrugged into her robe, rolling her eyes at Ryan, who was trying to suppress a giggle. "I was just getting ready for bed."

"My, you have been working hard," he laughed. "It’s only 8:30." There was a moment of silence as the thought of what his daughter was doing in bed at 8:30 at night hit him. "Uhh…I…uhh…called to speak to you about a call I received from Tuck today."

"Yes?" Jamie had assumed that her trust officer, Tuck Gray, would mention her request for an income distribution to her father, but she didn’t think it would be so soon. "Is there a problem?"

He hesitated for a moment, his irritation showing when he said, "Other than the fact that you didn’t ask my permission, no."

She blinked slowly, completely unaccustomed to being required to account for her purchases. "Ask for permission?" she said slowly, meeting eyes with Ryan, who looked pained. "Since when do I have to ask for your permission to spend my money?"

"Since you started spending $25,000 on a car," he said, his temper still flaring. "I should think that requesting a $25,000 distribution might warrant a mention, Jamie."

"We talked about this when we played golf, Daddy. If I recall, it was your idea that I buy a car! Why does this bother you?"

His voice was softer now, and she could hear the hurt as he said, "I thought we’d do this together, Jamie."

Oh-oh…he’s jealous!
Realizing that her father had a very proprietary interest in helping her make decisions, she mentally kicked herself for failing to realize this and for not consulting him. "I’m sorry, Daddy," she said softly. "I didn’t mean to make you feel left out."

"That’s hardly the issue, Jamie," he huffed, and now she kicked herself for wounding his pride. "I am your trustee, and it’s my duty to make sure your money is handled properly."

"Daddy," she said evenly, "I didn’t buy a Ferrari Testarossa. I bought the small Lexus SUV."

"You can’t buy that car for $25,000," he scoffed.

"You can if it’s used," she countered. "Ryan was uncomfortable spending so much money, so she convinced me to buy a demo."

"A demo?" Jim asked slowly.

"Yeah, you know, a car that the dealer uses for test drives and for the sales people to drive."

"I know what a demo is, Jamie," he sniffed. He really didn’t have a rejoinder to her statement. His daughter had purchased a good quality car that would suit her needs perfectly, and he had to admit that he would have suggested either it or the Mercedes SUV if she had asked him. Buying it used was odd, but also reassured him a little that she wasn’t being frivolous–and that Ryan wasn’t trying to run through her money either. "I…uhh…just want you to ask me next time, Jamie," he said, unwilling to give up his control.

She laughed and reassured him. "We’re not going to be in the market for another car for a very long while, Daddy."

"I don’t just mean about cars, Jamie. I’d like to know beforehand before you request any type of funds transfer."

She counted to ten, hoping the little pause would allow her temper to calm. Regrettably, it didn’t, and she snapped, "I’ve never had to do that before, Daddy. I’d like to know why you’re trying to exert more control over me as I grow older. Shouldn’t it be the reverse?"

"Spending this amount of money makes me doubt your maturity, Jamie," he said, knowing that he was overreacting, but finding himself powerless to control his annoyance.

She took in a deep breath, trying valiantly to stop herself from saying something she would regret. "That’s very disappointing to hear, Daddy. I don’t think I’ve done anything to make you feel that way, but of course, you’re in charge, so I’m forced to abide by your orders." She knew she was being bitchy, but he had really hurt her feelings, and she wanted him to know it.

"That’s not fair, Jamie," he insisted. "I’m not giving you orders. I’m making a reasonable request."

"A request that I have no choice but to follow." She let that sink in and then said, "Ryan’s waiting for me, Daddy. I have to go. Good night." As she switched off the phone, she dropped it onto her desk and flopped down onto the bed next to Ryan. "That went well!"

"Is he mad that you bought a car, or mad that you didn’t ask for permission?" Ryan asked, surmising the gist of the conversation.

"Neither, if my guess is correct. I think he’s hurt that I didn’t take him with me, but he’s embarrassed to admit that."

"Bummer," Ryan muttered solicitously. "Doesn’t sound like it ended well."

Jamie rubbed her eyes with her fists, irritated with herself for losing her temper. "No, it didn’t, but I should have behaved better. I just can’t stand to be dictated to about money!"

I can vouch for that
, Ryan agreed privately. "What’re the rules about getting money from your trust?" she asked, not sure that Jamie had ever discussed them.

"I don’t think I know what all of the rules are," she admitted. "I don’t even have a copy of the trust agreement! I wanted to show it to you, so I looked for it before we went to Pebble Beach, but I discovered that I didn’t have one. I called Daddy to ask for a copy, and, as usual, he assured me that I have enough money for a dozen lifetimes–and that I had nothing to worry about." She made a sour face, always irritated when her father treated her like she wasn’t capable of making her own decisions.

"I’m sorry he hurt your feelings, Babe," Ryan soothed, rubbing Jamie’s back gently.

"I’ll get over it," she muttered. "It’s happened before and it’ll happen again. He just needs to feel like he’s in charge," twinkling green eyes blinked up at Ryan, "even though he’s not!"

On Friday morning, Jamie woke to the pleasant sensation of soft fingers lightly running over her stomach and thighs. Without a word, she reached down and guided the hand so the touch came up a little higher. Ryan’s chuckle rumbled into her ear, "Sorry I wasn’t covering all of the favorite terrain."

"You were covering all of yours," she corrected sleepily, "just not all of mine."

"I’m ready to rock," Ryan’s wide-awake voice purred into her ear.

"I can tell," Jamie drawled as she rubbed her backside into Ryan’s lap. "Do you want to do something about it, Tiger?"

"Yes, but we really should get up. We’ve got to meet the team in a half hour, and I don’t just want a quickie."

"Okay," Jamie agreed as she rolled onto her back and stretched sensually for several minutes. Ryan watched her with a gleam in her eye that just would not quit. Jamie caught the look and teased, "That leer makes me think your baser instincts might win out this morning."

Ryan shook her head and hopped out of bed. "Nope. I’m staying on the straight and narrow. But I want to hit the sack by eight tonight. I’ve got big plans for you, Baby."

"Can we do that at home?" Jamie asked tentatively.

"What? Have sex?" Ryan replied with wide eyes. "Fine time to ask now!"

"No, silly. Can we go to bed that early? Won’t you feel a little funny if everyone’s at home?"

"Nope. If we’re going to live there we have to treat it like it’s ours. If we think that we have to be with the family all the time, it just won’t work. So I think we need to keep our own schedule and let them adapt. They’ve already been very respectful of our closed door. No one has even knocked if the door is closed, and we didn’t even have to say anything about it. I think we should decide if we want to eat with the family and tell them in advance. Kind of like I used to do. I don’t want to feel like I’m in high school again, Baby."

"Let’s talk to your father and see what we can work out."

"Okay, we’ll give it a try."

Late that afternoon, Jamie sat in the kitchen "helping" Martin prepare dinner. Marta had given her more challenging tasks when she was four years old, but she acknowledged that every cook had his own routine, and she didn’t want to press the issue.

"Where’s herself?" Martin asked after a few minutes. "I’ve never seen this much space between the two of you."