by Rita Ewing
“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.
Chapter 12
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.
“Good-bye, Jake,” Casey managed before she walked in the direction of Remy.
“Wait, Casey,” Jake began. “Why don’t you join us for dinner?”
She could almost see Jake triumphantly sneering behind her.
Ignoring him, she worked her way through the crowd and plastered a fake smile on her face as she played the part of Mrs. Brent Rogers. She spotted Collin hurrying away from Remy. Casey figured he had probably forgotten something in the locker room.
“Have you seen Kelly?” Casey asked Remy as she approached her.
“No,” Remy said curtly.
“I wish she would bring her butt back here. Diamond needs to be in bed, and the way I feel now, so do I. Brent’s going out to dinner with Jake, and he didn’t even tell me anything about it. Once again, I’m going home alone,” Casey said, continuing to search the room for any sign of Kelly, watching enviously as Paul and Lorraine Thomas hugged each other, laughing at some private joke. Why couldn’t that be her and Brent right now?
“I can’t believe him,” Remy said, shaking her head, looking past Casey.
“Isn’t he a jerk? He used to represent Collin, didn’t he? Collin was smart to give him the boot. Jake has no respect for the players or their wives. I can’t stand him. You wouldn’t believe what he just said to me.”
“Casey, I’m not talking about Jake. I’m talking about my inconsiderate-ass boyfriend. He just stood me up!” Remy said.
“What happened?” Casey said, realizing for the first time that Remy was upset too.
“He just told me that he had some extra work to do.”
“He didn’t stand you up, Remy. He has work to do. At least he told you himself.”
“Casey, you know that it’s been weeks since we’ve had a quiet evening alone together. The least he could do is make some time for me. He could have told me before the game that he had plans. Iwouldn’t have even come to this stupid blowout of a game if I wasn’t going to be able to see him afterwards.”
“Listen. Just relax. Both of you have hectic schedules. There’ve been a lot of times when you’ve been too busy to see him because of your work. He’s not inconsiderate. Now, I know inconsiderate firsthand, and Collin is not like that. He’s different.”
“Yeah, real different. Asshole, standing me up.”
“He didn’t stand you up—standing you up would’ve been to just leave and not say anything at all. At least he—”
“I know what a stand-up is,” Remy interrupted. “I’m just pissed. I’d been looking forward to this evening for a while.”
Casey genuinely felt bad for her friend. It was not like Remy to show her disappointment. But Casey was fresh out of solutions for herself; how could she make Remy feel any better?
“Look at it this way, Remy; it’s his loss. If he doesn’t want any ass tonight from his beautiful woman, then that’s his problem.”
Casey noticed the tense look leaving Remy’s face.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s right. It’s his loss. Maybe I’ll get some from somebody else.”
“That’s the spirit.” Casey laughed. “Even though you and I both know Collin is crazy about you. Don’t hurt that poor boy like that.”
“Well, maybe next time he’ll think twice before canceling on me,” Remy petulantly said.
“Come on, Remy. We both know he’s not that bad. Collin’s ten times better than most of the guys on the team,” Casey said. She understood Remy’s disappointment all too well, but still, Collin was a prize. He was sensitive and very mature. Other than Paul Thomas, Collin was the only other player whom Casey had never heard any gossip about. “Girl, you have a good man, stop complaining,” she chided Remy. But Casey knew that none of that mattered to a woman when she felt that she was being scorned. Staring at Remy, Casey realized there was probably only one way to lift Remy’s spirits.
“Stop it, Casey,” Remy began as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You look frustrated and sad and … I think under these circumstances, you and I owe it to ourselves to have some fun tonight—even if it is without our men.”
A conspiratorial look spread across Remy’s face. They both enjoyed a fun evening out on the town every now and then. It was their ladies'-night thing. Of course, neither of them was a big drinker, and Casey had a difficult time holding her liquor, but that never stopped them from having a good time.
“So where should we start?” Casey asked. “Bungalow 8 for drinks?”
“Then on to Show for dancing and young studs.”
“Sounds like a plan, but I have to find Kelly first,” Casey said, slightly regretting making plans as she was exhausted, mentally and physically.
“Mind if I wait in your car?” Remy began. “I need a change of scenery.”
“Nope, just open up my purse and grab my keys. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
The crowd slowly began to thin out around her, yet she still could not find Kelly. Casey began to pace the waiting area hoping that she would return. Maybe she was just in the ladies’ room freshening up in preparation to see Steve.
“Oh my God, Casey! Do you see him? Just standing over there. He’s awfully bold if you ask me,” the Flyers Gossip Queen said, appearing from around the corner.
“Who?”
Robin leaned into Casey, lowered her voice, and pointed. “Leonard Hightower. He has some nerve showing his face around here. Look at him. See him over there?”
Casey looked through the thinning crowd but did not notice him. She wondered how Robin Stillman knew anything about Leonard Hightower. Apparently it wasn’t as big a secret as Alexis had led her to believe.
“See Jake Schneider?” Robin panted.
Casey nodded seeing Jake saddled up next to Coach Mitchell, who looked like he was ready to grace the cover of GQ, once again. Jake Schneider looked like the troll he was standing next to Coach.
“Now see the guy with the bright red hair who looks like he’s surveying the room?”
Casey saw the beefy guy with the fire red hair; no one could miss him. In fact, she remembered
seeing him earlier in the evening.
“Hightower is directly to his right; he has the thick salt-and-pepper hair. Doesn’t he look pompous?”
“Actually … yeah, he does,” Casey said, agreeing with Robin Stillman, probably for the first time in their entire acquaintance.
He also looks a lot younger than any of the photos I’ve seen of him, Casey thought. But he looked unmistakably slick, as if he was three steps ahead of everyone else. He had a Jack Nicholson quality to him, except he was more polished, almost painfully Magnetism surrounded him, so much so that reporters were continually approaching him trying to get his attention—though the burly redheaded man promptly intervened on Hightower’s behalf every time they got within a five-foot radius.
“And did you see him prance in like he owned the world at the beginning of the third quarter, having that redheaded guy oust some young actors from Star Row?”
Actually, Casey had seen him arrive after halftime with the redheaded man in tow, but she hadn’t realized that he was Leonard Hightower of Hightower Enterprises. It looked like he’d had plastic surgery performed on his face, and Casey could have sworn that his hair used to be completely white.
“He acts like he owns the Flyers already. Heck, he was acting like he owned the Mecca Arena,” Robin disgustedly said.
For the impending sale to be such a secret, Robin was certainly talking about it freely, but Casey had to remind herself of what a gossip Robin was. Why would she behave any differently now? In reality it probably really didn’t matter to Robin whether the Flyers were sold as long as she still had a forum in which she could dish dirt. Robin’s husband, Bob Stillman, the assistant coach, had probably sworn her to secrecy about Leonard Hightower trying to buy the team. It was a shame she couldn’t even keep her word to her own husband.
