Homecourt Advantage (11 page)

“Michael and I make our own policies.”

“You’ll learn,” Robin said, patting Dawn’s hand. “Well, anyway, you sure did miss a good first half.” Robin scooted closer to Dawn.

“I know, they’re killing Philadelphia,” Dawn said, taking a forkful of her pasta, trying not to let Robin’s comments affect her.

“That’s not what I’m talking about! You missed Kelly. She’s sitting in Casey’s seats, drunk as a skunk. I hate to see what she’s going to be like after halftime. I don’t even know why she bothered to show up. Everybody knows that Steve is finished with her. He even has a new woman, Stephanie. Real class. She was great at Alexis’s breakfast,” Robin said, raising her eyebrows expectantly as she looked at Dawn.

Before Dawn realized what was happening, Robin snatched her left hand and pulled it within six inches of her face.

“When did Michael give you this?” Robin panted after Dawn’s perfect five-carat, pear-shaped, blue-shadowed diamond ring.

Dawn slid her hand away as tactfully as possible. She rarely wore the ring because she had to take it off so much at the hospital; she did not want to risk losing it.

“When did you and Michael officially get engaged?”

“I’m sure you must have heard,” Dawn said quietly.

“Well, Michael sure hasn’t discussed it with anyone,” Robin said, a smug look on her face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dawn said, hating herself for taking the bait.

“You haven’t seen the latest edition of
Flyer Life,
huh?” Robin rolled her chair to an adjacent table, snatching up an issue of the publication. “Michael was spotlighted in this month’s issue. They have an eight-page article on him, big photo spread and all. When they ask him his relationship status, he says that he’s unmarried,” Robin continued, leafing through the magazine to find the exact quote.

“Well, we’re not married yet,” Dawn said, feeling her solar plexus thrum. Michael had not even mentioned the showcase in the magazine. Why hadn’t he told her?

“See, right here; he sure doesn’t mention he’s engaged either.” Robin shoved the magazine inches from Dawn’s face.

Against her better judgment, Dawn grabbed it and began feverishly scanning the article. Her eyes couldn’t absorb the words fast enough. The nerve of him!

“But you know how rookies are, Dawn; they’re so wrapped up in what’s going on with them, they don’t have time to think about anyone else except themselves and maybe their mothers. The girlfriends just get pushed to the side. Don’t take it personally. You’re lucky with Michael. He seems like he’s basically a good kid.”

Dawn finished reading the article and looked at the photo layout of Michael, which included a shot of him as a child as well as a picture of him with his parents. Where was
her
picture with Michael?

Suddenly Dawn almost jumped out of her seat, feeling hands on her shoulders.

“Play-off jitters, huh? I missed you during the first half,” Lorraine Thomas said, leaning down and kissing Dawn on the cheek.

“Yeah,” Dawn managed to utter, her heart too hurt to say much more.

“Hello, Lorraine. I guess I’ll leave you two ladies, the half is just about over. Dawn, don’t let that article bother you. You know how these guys can be,” Robin triumphantly said, rising from the table.

“What’s wrong, Dawn?” Lorraine asked.

“This,” Dawn said, pushing the article toward Lorraine.

“This? I read this article already. It was very flattering to Michael. What’s the matter?”

“Do you always have to be so diplomatic? My point is, he didn’t mention my name or the fact that I even exist.”

“And I suppose Robin brought that to your attention, huh?” Lorraine said, turning up her lips.

“Well, yes.”

“Dawn, look at the source. That woman’s life goal other than being Miss Runner to Alexis is to get under our skins. Don’t give her the satisfaction. She knows nothing about and has nothing to do with your and Michael’s relationship. That’s y’all’s business and don’t you forget it.”

“Yeah, but that still doesn’t explain why Michael didn’t even mention that he has a fiancée in the article.”

“Dawn, let me tell you something that I learned by being married into this profession a long time ago. When those reporters go to interview our men, they’ve already made up their minds of what they want to print. For all you know, Michael did tell them about you and they chose not to print it. You see the title of the article: ‘Hotter than Fire.’ And look, it was a female reporter. Maybe she wanted to depict him as a young hot stud. You don’t know what her angle was. All you need to know is that Michael is your man. If you all have problems, don’t let it be because of anyone else. You know what I mean?” Lorraine said, rubbing Dawn’s back.

“I guess so,” Dawn said, unconvinced.

“Michael is crazy about you. Anybody that’s around you two can see that. Come on, let’s go down and catch the second half of the game,” Lorraine said, standing up.

Dawn reluctantly stood up and threw away her plate and empty soda can. She knew Lorraine was only trying to help, but her words offered little consolation. Even if what she said was true about the reporter’s angle, it was still unlike Michael not to tell her about the interview. Why did he hold back? For the first time, Dawn was really scared that she might lose him. She felt as if he was slipping right through her fingers.

The crowd at the Mecca grew so boisterous after
the win, Casey wondered if the arena would ever clear out. Fortunately, Kelly had been sedate throughout the second half, albeit in a drunken stupor. She had kept her outbursts to a minimum even though Stephanie had been perched in Steve’s seats. The fans lingered in hopes of catching one of the players—any one—doing a courtside interview. Casey was curious how long Kelly would linger to catch Steve.

With the exception of Rick Belleville’s blowup at the head referee in the third quarter, costing the team time and points, the Flyers had effortlessly demolished Philadelphia 110 to 80. If this first game was any indication of what the series would look like, Casey knew it was going to be a three-game sweep. The Flyers had played as if the 76ers were no more than a Division III college team. What she saw tonight amounted to an exhibition showcasing the Flyers’ superior talent over their opposition.

Usually Casey took pride in Brent having a good game, but tonight was different. She didn’t feel much of anything. He had performed like the All-Star he was, but she had far too many distracting thoughts to enjoy it. Between Brent’s latest deception, Alexis’s demands, and babysitting for an intoxicated Kelly, Casey had her fill of drama. She felt like losing it herself.

Looking now at Kelly, her eyes glazed, Casey wondered how to get her home safely. Kelly had ordered one gin and tonic after another throughout the entire game; meanwhile Steve never once looked in her direction. Casey felt for Kelly and knew she must be devastated. Luckily, Diamond was probably still too young to have noticed anything peculiar about her mother’s behavior. Still, Casey was relieved that the sweet little girl had fallen asleep on her lap. It was so unfair that this innocent child had to be in the middle of her parents’ feud.

“You two ladies plan on sitting here all evening? Because I’m about ready to head back to the locker room,” Remy said as she freshened her bronze lipstick.

“Oh, would you mind if I slipped back there with you, Remy?” Kelly said, coming out of her haze for the first time since noticing Stephanie in Steve’s seats.

“Kelly, you think maybe you ought to get Diamond home? She seems exhausted,” Casey suggested as gently as possible.

“She’s all right, she’s getting some rest right now. I need to talk with Steve before I go anywhere.” Kelly glanced at her sleeping daughter. “And I want her daddy to see her before I take her home.”

Casey watched as Kelly rose unsteadily to her feet. She then looked quickly across the court through the crowd to get a glimpse of Steve’s seats. She hoped Kelly didn’t follow her line of vision. Casey watched as Stephanie walked toward the locker-room waiting area, obviously to meet up with Steve.

“Kelly, you know the reporters are going to be hounding Steve after the awesome game he had. He’s probably not going to be out for at least another hour.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” Kelly said, crossing her arms over her voluptuous chest.

“Well, I mind waiting out here,” Remy said. “Casey, you know how quickly Collin gets changed. I want to catch him and firm up our plans,” Remy said, dabbing some powder on her face from her silver compact.

“I’m right behind you, Remy,” Kelly added, her words slurred. “Casey, you can give Diamond to me.” She wobbled toward Casey.

Casey held tight to Diamond, her mind racing, echoing Alexis’s words. She had to come up with a way to keep Kelly from going back to the locker room.

“Why are you so anxious, Remy?” Casey asked. “You and Collin have something special planned?”

“We’re supposed to have a nice, quiet, romantic dinner followed by …” Remy started with a wicked grin on her face. “Well, let’s just put it this way; it’s been a looong time since I’ve had a memorable evening with my man.”

“You’re not alone; it’s been a long time for me too,” Kelly said, clutching Remy’s arm. “Longer than I care to mention. Come on, Remy, let’s go get our men.”

Casey stood fixed in her spot as Remy and Kelly walked across the basketball court toward the locker-room entrance. She realized there was no stopping Kelly. So she gathered up her purse, certain that it was soiled with beer, soda, mustard, confetti, and layers of dirt from the filthy Mecca floor.

Careful not to awaken Diamond in the process, she looked across the court at Kelly and Remy as she pulled her purse strap over her shoulder. They were just about to enter the waiting area outside the locker room. She swallowed hard noticing the photographers and reporters. Casey shuddered to think about what type of scene Kelly was going to make when she finally caught up with Steve. What would happen if Alexis witnessed the outburst? Or, worse, if Coach did? Casey felt as if she were on her way to the front lines to witness battle.

The waiting area outside the locker room was a buzz of activity filled with cameras and flashing bulbs, reporters and groupies all lining the walls next to Nike, Gatorade, and other product reps bumpingagainst agents, attorneys, and a host of other people hoping to assist or, more accurately, kiss up to the players in some fashion. Casey unsuccessfully scanned the crowd, looking for Kelly. Her drunk friend had disappeared quickly. Casey saw Lorraine Thomas across the room deep in conversation with Dawn and then noticed Remy talking to Collin. Still Kelly was nowhere in sight. Casey only hoped she had not passed out in some remote corner of the Mecca.

“Mama. Where Mama?” Diamond said, awaking from her slumber.

“Mommy will be back, sweetie,” Casey said as she rocked Diamond back and forth.

“You look like a natural at that. How’s my favorite wife?” Jake Schneider said, and gave Casey a wet kiss dangerously close to her mouth.

“I’m fine, Jake, and yourself?” Casey said stiffly, staring at his toupee, which was a good three inches below Casey’s nose.

Jake Schneider was one of the best and certainly the slimiest of sports agents. No Jerry McGuire was he! Much to Casey’s dismay, Brent was one of Jake’s clients, and had been since he’d graduated from Duke. Jake represented the majority of top players in the NBA, and instead of treating them like CEOs of million-dollar corporations, he acted as if they were little boys with second-grade educations. His behavior toward their wives was even worse. Casey was almost certain Jake treated the mistresses better. That would be his style.

“Things are going well for me,” Jake said. “I’m just waiting for my guy to get out of the shower so we can make our reservation at Cipriani’s. Not that they wouldn’t hold the table all night for Brent Rogers. But you know better than anybody how long he can take to get dressed. I bet the big fella stays in the mirror longer than you, Casey.” Jake laughed as he removed his tortoiseshell glasses and wiped his eyes and forehead with a white silk handkerchief, as if such a fragile piece of fabric could remove the slime oozing from his every pore.

Casey was surprised. “You and Brent are going to dinner?”

“He didn’t bother to tell you, huh?”

“Not yet.”

“Don’t take it personally. You know these guys. The only personthey remember to tell important things to is their agent. Sometimes I feel like a wife.”

Casey had to stop herself from rolling her eyes into the back of her head. She was determined not to let this man get under her skin—but it was difficult. He always wanted to be one up on the wives and girlfriends when it came to
his
athletes. Jake had to have complete control over all his clients by any means necessary.

“Hey I have a new one for you, Casey. Did you hear about the veteran ball player and the rookie? Well, the rookie player says to the veteran player, —'So, are you married man?’ And the veteran player says, —'Yeah, I am at home games.’ Get it? He’s only married at home games.” Jake laughed hysterically.

“Good one, Jake. You’re in rare form this evening. Enjoy your dinner with your number one hero. And would you tell my husband I said good night? I have to help get this little one off to bed.” Casey turned and spotted Remy and Collin across the crowded room. They would give her a good escape from the slime bag.

“Oh, is this the little girl?” Jake said, grasping Casey’s shoulder before she could walk away. “I didn’t know that you’d finally agreed to let her come and visit the two of you.”

Casey could not believe that she heard him correctly. It amazed her how someone without an ounce of decency or diplomacy managed to rake in new clients. She knew he was one of the best at contract negotiations, but when it came to emotional intelligence, he had none.

“I don’t believe I heard you correctly, Jake. What did you just say to me?”

“Isn’t this Nikki?”

Casey was stunned into silence. She knew that Jake was a tactless control freak whose motto was “Divide and conquer,” but this was by far the lowest he had ever sunk. And it was such a deliberate attack. Jake knew very well that the little two-year-old girl she was holding was too young to be Brent’s daughter. What the hell had gotten into him? He seemed to really be getting off on attacking her. What’s more, there was nothing that could be done about it. Even if Brent were to fire Jake, he would still collect 4 percent of Brent’s salary forthe next six years, and 15 percent of several multimillion-dollar endorsements. There was not a thing she could do about his presence in their lives.