The Name of the Game

by Nora Roberts

  “No.” Carl pushed himself up and headed for the bar. Johanna bit back a protest and was relieved when he poured club soda. “Do you want anything?”

  “No, thank you. I can’t stay.”

  Carl halfheartedly added a twist of lime. “I assumed you’d stay until I’d previewed the tapes.”

  “You don’t need me for that.” He wanted company, she realized. Because she remembered how old and alone he’d looked in the hospital, she relented. “I could put them in for you, answer whatever questions you might have about the first segment or two.”

  “I’ve seen the show before, Johanna. I doubt I’d have any questions about my own show.”

  “No.” She picked up the bag she’d just set down. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Johanna.” He cleared his throat and he turned back, then took his seat again. “You’ve done a good job with it.”

  This time both brows rose. “Thank you.” She set her bag down again and checked her watch.

  “If you’ve got some damn appointment, go on, then.”

  “No, actually, I was just marking the time. Since it’s the first time in my life you’ve ever complimented me on anything, I want to remember when it happened.”

  “There’s no need to be sarcastic.”

  “Maybe not.” She crossed the room to sit but stayed on the edge of her chair. She’d never been comfortable in this house. “I’m glad you’re doing so well. If you’re interested, I can see that you get dupes of tomorrow’s taping for the evening shows. We’re giving away a trip for two to Puerto Vallarta during the speed round.”

  He only grunted at that. Johanna folded her hands and continued. “If a contestant reaches the winner’s circle and can answer all of the questions himself, without deferring to his partner, he’ll win a car. We’re using a sedan this week. Four-door.”

  “I’m not interested in the prizes.”

  “I thought not, but you might prefer a different angle or see a flaw when you preview. I’m sure you know that you can accomplish as much here as most men can in an office.”

  “I won’t be sitting here forever.”

  “There’s no question of that.” No, he would be back, full steam, very soon. Maybe this was the time, the only time. “Before I go, I’d like to ask you something.”

  “If it has to do with the new pilot, I’ve already seen it and approved it.”

  “No, it’s personal.”

  He sat, cradling his glass. He didn’t mind giving up liquor half so much as doing without his cigars. Rather than answer, he simply nodded for her to go on.

  “Why do you want to marry Toni DuMonde?”

  As far as Carl was concerned, the question had come out of left field. No one questioned his motives or his reasons. “I’d say that was between Toni and myself. If you’re uncomfortable with the age difference—”

  “It would hardly matter to me if there was twice as much difference as there already is,” Johanna said. “I’m just curious.”

  “I’m marrying her because I want to.”

  Johanna sat for a minute, studying him. Maybe it was just that simple with Carl. I want, I do. I covet, I take. “Do you plan to stay married to her?”

  “As long as it suits both of us.”

  She smiled a little and nodded. That, at least, was the unvarnished truth. “Why did you marry my mother?”

  If her first question had surprised him, this one left him speechless. Staring at Johanna, he saw the resemblance he’d always ignored. But there was more character in this face. More courage. “Why are you bringing this up now? You never asked about her before.”

  “Maybe I should have. We began to talk about her when you were in the hospital, but I suppose I wasn’t ready. Now I have a decision of my own to make, and I can’t do it until I understand a little better. Did you love her?”

  “Of course. She was beautiful, fascinating. We were both building our careers. There wasn’t a man who met Glenna in those days who didn’t love her.”

  She didn’t find reasons for love and fidelity in those answers. “But you’re the only one who married her. And the only one who divorced her.”

  “The marriage was a mistake,” he said, abruptly uncomfortable. “We both realized it before the first year was out. Not that we weren’t attracted to each other. As I said, she was beautiful, very delicate. You favor her.” His glass paused halfway to his lips when he saw her expression. Perhaps he’d never been a loving father, but he’d always been an astute man. “If you’re concerned about her health, don’t be. Glenna was always erratic. Drinking made her more so, but I’ve never seen any part of that in you. Believe me, I’ve watched for it.”

  “Have you?” Johanna murmured.

  “You’ve never been one for extremes,” he went on. “Apparently you inherited enough from me to offset the rest.”

  “Did I?” This time her voice was firm and her eyes level. “I’ve always wondered what, if anything, I inherited from you.”

  His look was so blank that she couldn’t believe he feigned it. “You’re a producer, aren’t you? And a good one. That should say something. The Pattersons have always been strong, practical people. Ambitious. I’d say, now that I think of it, that you take after my grandmother. She was strong minded, never one to sit around and let the world go by. Got the hair from her, too,” he decided, looking thoroughly at his daughter for the first time in years.

  A little dazed, Johanna reached up to touch her hair. “Your grandmother?”

  “Didn’t get it from your mother,” he said with a sour laugh. “Got hers from her hairdresser. That was one of her most prized secrets. Hers was brown, mousy brown. God knows you didn’t get your drive from her. That’s the Patterson in you.” He didn’t say it with pride, just stated it as fact.

  So this was her father after all. Johanna sat, waiting for a flood of feeling. When none came, she sighed. Nothing had really changed. Then her lips curved. Then again, maybe everything had.

  “I’d like to hear about her sometime. Your grandmother.” She rose, taking a look at her watch in earnest. “I really have to go. I’m going to be out of town. Everything should run smoothly enough without me for a few days.”

  “Out of town? When?”

  “Tonight.”

  Johanna caught the last plane out. She’d had just enough time before final boarding to call Bethany and give her quick and not completely coherent instructions about the next day’s business and the care and feeding of her cat. Bethany had been awakened out of a sound sleep, but she could be depended on.

  Strapped in, Johanna watched L.A., and the resolutions she’d lived with all of her life, slip away. She’d taken a step, the largest one of her life, without even being sure she would land on solid ground.

  Somewhere over Nevada she dozed, then woke over New Mexico in a kind of blind panic. What in God’s name was she doing, traveling thousands of miles without so much as a toothbrush? It wasn’t like her not to plan or make lists. They were taping the next day. Who would handle the details, check the staff? Who would deal with John Jay?

  Someone else, she told herself. For once it would just have to be someone else.

  She traveled from one coast to the other, sleeping in fits and starts and wondering if she’d lost her mind. In Houston she nearly lost her nerve, as well. But she changed planes and strapped in a second time, determined to see it through.

  Perhaps she wasn’t being smart or responsible, but everyone was entitled to do something on impulse once. Even if they lived to regret it.

  Almost certain she would, she arrived in Baltimore just after dawn. The terminal was deserted except for a few napping passengers waiting for connections. The air was cool in Maryland, and she was grateful for her suit jacket. The same jacket, Johanna remembered, that she’d put on that morning when she’d still been sane. The sky, full of pewter clouds, promised rain as she climbed into a cab and gave the driver the name of Sam’s hotel.

  This was it, she t
old herself. It helped a little to close her eyes and ignore the unfamiliar landscape. If she didn’t watch it, she wouldn’t think too much about being on the other side of the country. In L.A. people were rolling over in bed, snuggling into pillows with morning still hours away. Here they were waking up, preparing to face the day.

  So was she.

  She paid off the driver and tried not to think. The rain began as she walked into the lobby.

  Suite 621. At least she knew the number, so she’d be spared the embarrassment of going to the desk and convincing the clerk she wasn’t a fan. Clutching the strap of her bag, she rode to the sixth floor. It was easy enough to step from the elevator. She even managed to walk down the hall to his door.

  Then she stared at it.

  What if he didn’t want her there? What if he wasn’t alone? After all, she had no claim on him, had made no promises. She’d refused to accept, even to listen to, his promises. He was free to . . . to do whatever he wanted, with whomever he wanted.

  Certain she couldn’t go through with it, she turned away and took two steps back from the door.

  It was absurd, she told herself. She’d just spent hours in a plane, traveled thousands of miles, and now she couldn’t even get up the nerve to knock on a door.

  With her shoulders straight and her chin up, she knocked. When her stomach rolled, she reached in her pocket automatically for her antacids. Her fingers closed over the small velvet box. She drummed up her courage and knocked again.

  He woke swearing. They’d worked until after two, and he’d barely had the energy to strip before tumbling into bed. Now the damn assistant director was banging on the door. Any idiot knew they couldn’t film any of the scheduled outside shots in the rain.

  Groggy and full of the desire for vengeance, Sam dragged the top sheet from the bed and wrapped it around him. He tripped over the hem, cursed again, then yanked open the door.

  “Goddamn it—” His mouth dried up. He had to be dreaming. Johanna was a continent away, snuggled under the covers. Then he saw her lips curve before she began to stumble out an apology.

  “I’m sorry I woke you. I should have . . . waited. Called.” Stayed away, she thought desperately.

  Then she didn’t think at all, because he was dragging her inside. The door slammed and she was pressed back against it, her mouth captive.

  “Don’t say a word,” he ordered when she sucked in her breath. “Not a word. Not yet.”

  It would have been impossible to speak. Even as he pulled her through the sitting room, he was peeling off her jacket, fighting the buttons on her blouse. With a throaty laugh, she tugged at the sheet. It was left behind in a stream of white as they worked their way to the bedroom.

  Her skirt slid down to her hips, and he lifted her out of it. While his hands played over her, she stepped out of one shoe. They were nearly at the bedroom door before she managed to rid herself of the other.

  He wasn’t even awake. Sam clung to the drowsy fingers of sleep as they fell onto the bed.

  She was here. Dream or reality, she was here. Her skin was just as soft under his hands, just as fragrant. Her lips as they parted for his had the same unique flavor he’d craved since he’d tasted them last. At her sigh, as her arms locked around him, he heard everything he needed to hear.

  Delighted with each other, they rolled over the already rumpled bed as the rain grew heavy and streaked the windows.

  She’d been right to come. Whatever had happened before, whatever happened after, she’d been right to take this moment. And to give this time to him. There would be no questions, no need for explanations or excuses, just gladness that was racing harder and faster toward dazzling pleasure.

  In tune, body and mind, they came together, taking that pleasure to its pinnacle.

  The thunder started as he gathered her against him again. Or perhaps it had been there all along but they hadn’t heard it. Now, as the storm rattled over the city, they were together and alone and in love. Sometimes that really was all that mattered.

  She kept her hand on his heart and her head on his shoulder as they floated down to solid ground. The gloom kept the room dim, but for Johanna there had never been a more beautiful morning.

  “Were you just passing through?” Sam murmured.

  She spread her fingers over his chest, watching the movement. “I had urgent and unexpected business on the East Coast.”

  “I see.” He hoped he did, but he could afford to wait. “You on a contestant search?”

  “Not exactly.” The nerves began leaking back. “I take it you don’t have an early call today.”

  “If the rain keeps up, please God, I won’t have one at all.” Slowly, like a man who had all the time in the world, he stretched. “We were scheduled to shoot down at the Inner Harbor. Terrific place. Best crab I’ve ever eaten.” He was already imagining showing it to her himself. “Once that’s wrapped, we’ll be finished here.”

  A pout, something she never allowed herself, formed on her lips. “You’ve run a little over your three weeks.”

  He certainly hoped it was annoyance he detected in her voice. “A little.”

  “I guess you’ve been too busy to call and let me know how things were going.”

  “No.”

  “No?” She propped herself on her elbow to frown at him.

  “No, I haven’t been too busy to call. I didn’t call.”

  “Oh, I see.” She started to push herself up and found herself flat on her back again with Sam leaning over her.

  “I hope you don’t think you’re getting out of this room.”

  “I told you I have business.”

  “So you did. Is it a coincidence that you have business in Baltimore and just happen to be staying at the same hotel—apparently in my room?”

  “I’m not staying.”

  “Guess again.” He nipped her gently on the jaw. “Why did you come, Johanna?”

  “I’d rather not discuss it. I’d like my clothes,” she said stiffly.

  “Sure. Let me get them for you.” He strolled out, leaving Johanna with the dubious cover of a pillow. She started to rise when he came back in with her suit bundled in his arms. Then she could only gape, openmouthed, as he opened the window and tossed them out.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” She forgot the pillow as she leaped up and ran to the window. “You threw out my clothes.” Dumbfounded, she could only stare at him. “You threw them out the window.”

  “Sure looks that way.”

  “Are you out of your mind? I flew out here with the shirt on my back, and now it’s six floors down and soaked. I don’t have anything to wear out of here but my shoes.”

  “I was counting on that. Seemed like the best way to guarantee your staying put.”

  “You are out of your mind.” She started to crane out of the window, remembered she was naked, then dropped on the bed. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “Borrow another of my shirts, I guess. Help yourself.” He gestured toward the closet. “You might toss me a pair of jeans while you’re at it. It’s hard for me to talk to you reasonably when we’re not wearing anything but smiles.”

  “I’m not smiling,” she told him between her teeth as she heaved jeans in his direction. “That was one of my best suits, and I—” Her fingers froze on the buttons of the shirt she’d pulled on. “Oh, God. Oh, my God, in the jacket. I had it in the jacket.” With the shirt still half buttoned she jumped for the door. Sam was just quick enough to slam it closed before she ran out.

  “I don’t think you’re dressed for a stroll, Johanna. Not that you don’t look terrific. In fact, you look so terrific I think I’d like you to give me my shirt back.”

  “Will you stop being an idiot?” She tried to shove him aside but met with solid resistance. “You threw it out the window. I can’t believe what a complete fool you are. You threw my ring out the window.”

  “Whose ring?”

  “My ring, the one you gave me. Oh, for God�
�s sake.” She ducked under his arm to run to the window again. “Someone’s going to take it.”

  “Your suit?”

  “No, I don’t care about the suit. The hell with the suit. I want my ring.”

  “All right. Here.” Sam drew it off his pinky and offered it. “The box must have dropped out of your pocket when—when I said hello.” Johanna had given a cry of relief and grabbed for it before she realized she’d been taken.

  “Damn it, Sam, you had it all the time and you let me think it was gone.”