Read Online Playing the Game by Stephanie Queen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephanie Queen
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overslept, then that’s it. Everyone’s entitled once in a while.” Coach Benson slammed his fist on the table.
“I guess so. Barry Dennis is human after all,” Kevin observed and everyone laughed except Barry.
“No, I’m not. This was just a test to see how much you all really cared.” Barry laughed at his own joke along with the rest of them. As they all started outside the room to get on with the tournament, Kevin pulled Barry aside.
“You know we really thought you were hurt or ill or something—you sure everything is okay? I’m not trying to question you or anything—it’s just not like you to make such a simple mistake as oversleeping.”
Barry responded to the concern in Kevin’s voice and because he had known him since he first came to Boston to be a fair reporter.
“I did oversleep, plain and simple. But I can tell you—no I can promise you—I will never make that mistake again.” Barry didn’t realize he’d said it with such vehemence until he noted Kevin’s reaction; Dave heard him too. They both looked mollified; convinced that this was a freak incident in the basketball-dedicated life of the legendary Barry Dennis.
But Barry wasn’t so sure. They went out to the first tee and any questions about the delay were brushed off with statements about interviews running late. Barry took center stage and he did his job, playing host to the large audience from beginning to end. All the while, whenever he stood alone to concentrate quietly on a putt, or looked off into the distance to follow a drive, he saw her image. He saw her flirtatious eyes and seductive smile, her chestnut hair billowing out around her face against the pillows, her voluptuous body lounging invitingly, calling to him. This had to stop.
“Barry, wait a minute. Stay and have something to eat with me,” Dave invited, catching up with Barry just as he was about to have his car brought around. The tournament and autograph signing were over.
“Great idea. It’ll give me a chance to tell you about Roxanne.” Barry needed to talk with someone about it. He walked back into the country club to the restaurant with Dave.
“Roxanne again? Who the hell is she anyway? This is the second time her name came up today,” Dave told him.
Barry smiled at his friend’s puzzlement. It wasn’t a wise thing to tell Dave any secrets, but he felt a strong compulsion to tell someone about her. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t a matter of bragging. In fact, he was definitely not proud of having spent the weekend with another woman. He thought of Susan. She would be crushed if she knew. They were in the process of breaking up, but he should have done it cleanly. He felt guilty now and figured that must be why he needed to talk to someone about it.
That and something else. Even though he knew it wasn’t fair to Susan, he had no regrets about the weekend he spent with Roxanne. She excited him. He thought of the possibility of spending more time with her. Then he caught himself and shook his head.
When they took their seats at their table and the hostess disappeared, he answered his friend’s question.
“I was with her Friday night.”
“The woman in the car? I didn’t figure she was someone you knew. Want to hear something funny? I thought you two just met Friday night and you were picking her up. I should have known better.” Dave was grinning again.
“She’s the reason I overslept this morning,” Barry admitted.
“What? What do you mean?”
“I mean we spent the weekend together at my house.” He thought he was getting through now, but no.
“She spent the weekend at your house? Poor woman must have been bored stiff. What did she do—watch you work out, play hoops and eat?” Dave laughed.
“I didn’t work out—or play hoops.” Barry made the statement as if he realized it that moment himself.
“What? You didn’t work out or play hoops? Are you kidding? What the hell did you do…” Dave stopped himself
“I guess so. Barry Dennis is human after all,” Kevin observed and everyone laughed except Barry.
“No, I’m not. This was just a test to see how much you all really cared.” Barry laughed at his own joke along with the rest of them. As they all started outside the room to get on with the tournament, Kevin pulled Barry aside.
“You know we really thought you were hurt or ill or something—you sure everything is okay? I’m not trying to question you or anything—it’s just not like you to make such a simple mistake as oversleeping.”
Barry responded to the concern in Kevin’s voice and because he had known him since he first came to Boston to be a fair reporter.
“I did oversleep, plain and simple. But I can tell you—no I can promise you—I will never make that mistake again.” Barry didn’t realize he’d said it with such vehemence until he noted Kevin’s reaction; Dave heard him too. They both looked mollified; convinced that this was a freak incident in the basketball-dedicated life of the legendary Barry Dennis.
But Barry wasn’t so sure. They went out to the first tee and any questions about the delay were brushed off with statements about interviews running late. Barry took center stage and he did his job, playing host to the large audience from beginning to end. All the while, whenever he stood alone to concentrate quietly on a putt, or looked off into the distance to follow a drive, he saw her image. He saw her flirtatious eyes and seductive smile, her chestnut hair billowing out around her face against the pillows, her voluptuous body lounging invitingly, calling to him. This had to stop.
“Barry, wait a minute. Stay and have something to eat with me,” Dave invited, catching up with Barry just as he was about to have his car brought around. The tournament and autograph signing were over.
“Great idea. It’ll give me a chance to tell you about Roxanne.” Barry needed to talk with someone about it. He walked back into the country club to the restaurant with Dave.
“Roxanne again? Who the hell is she anyway? This is the second time her name came up today,” Dave told him.
Barry smiled at his friend’s puzzlement. It wasn’t a wise thing to tell Dave any secrets, but he felt a strong compulsion to tell someone about her. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t a matter of bragging. In fact, he was definitely not proud of having spent the weekend with another woman. He thought of Susan. She would be crushed if she knew. They were in the process of breaking up, but he should have done it cleanly. He felt guilty now and figured that must be why he needed to talk to someone about it.
That and something else. Even though he knew it wasn’t fair to Susan, he had no regrets about the weekend he spent with Roxanne. She excited him. He thought of the possibility of spending more time with her. Then he caught himself and shook his head.
When they took their seats at their table and the hostess disappeared, he answered his friend’s question.
“I was with her Friday night.”
“The woman in the car? I didn’t figure she was someone you knew. Want to hear something funny? I thought you two just met Friday night and you were picking her up. I should have known better.” Dave was grinning again.
“She’s the reason I overslept this morning,” Barry admitted.
“What? What do you mean?”
“I mean we spent the weekend together at my house.” He thought he was getting through now, but no.
“She spent the weekend at your house? Poor woman must have been bored stiff. What did she do—watch you work out, play hoops and eat?” Dave laughed.
“I didn’t work out—or play hoops.” Barry made the statement as if he realized it that moment himself.
“What? You didn’t work out or play hoops? Are you kidding? What the hell did you do…” Dave stopped himself
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