Authors: Liz Matis
Playing For Keeps (19 page)
“Let me get this straight. You broke up with him because he thinks you’re too good to be in a skin magazine?”
“You don’t understand. You weren’t there.” Hannah pounded the pil ow. “He FORBIDS me to do it.”
“He actual y used that word?”
“Yes. He also said,” her voice lowered, “No woman of my mine…,” she went back to her normal voice, “I don’t even know what he said after that. I was so pissed.” Hannah gulped in some air. “I told him to take his archaic views on women and shove them up his ass. Then I kicked him out.”
Realizing Hannah didn’t want to hear any rational arguments, Samantha said, “Good for you.”
Hannah sat up in bed and hugged Samantha tight. “Thanks.” She wiped the wetness from her face. “I have a night photo shoot and I’m going to look like I’m from the Night of the Living Dead.”
“You look beautiful.”
Hannah sniffed, “Do not.”
Samantha took her over to the mirror and pul ed back her hair. “See, you don’t look so bad. You could do a commercial. Looking good after a good cry.”
Hannah laughed. “Samantha, that’s so lame, and you claim to be a writer.”
“Oh, and what would you say.”
“When looking ‘fine’ is the best revenge.” Hannah struck a model pose. They both laughed and hugged. “I’m so glad you’re living here.”
Samantha turned serious. “Ryan asked me to move in.”
Hannah stood back and grabbed Samantha’s forearms. “But that’s great!”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“What? I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”
Samantha shook her head. “Who just said God made men jerks?”
“Wel , maybe it’s more like I pick jerks,” admitted Hannah.
“You do it on purpose so you don’t have get too close.”
Hannah released her and backed away. “Look’s who talking.”
“It’s too soon.”
“Not soon enough if you ask me. The man is crazy in love with you.”
She hoped so because she might be crazy in love with him. But moving in? How would they ever keep that a secret?
***
Jake shrugged. “She’s too high maintenance for me. Sticking to the groupies.” He doused himself with water before pouring Gatorade into a paper cup and downing the contents.
Jake could pretend al he wanted, but Ryan knew Jake better than that. Jake was pissed. And he was hurt. “I don’t know if I should be tel ing you this, but Hannah was crying to Samantha over the phone.”
“No way, man.” Jake crunched the cup in his hand and threw it toward the bench. “The woman is heartless.”
“I’m just saying.”
“She chewed me up, spit me out, and she’s the one crying?”
“Yeah, I don’t get it either.”
Jake smacked Ryan’s shoulder pads. “Come on, let’s go pound somebody.”
Ryan fol owed him onto the field. He hoped Jake didn’t hurt anybody.
***
A couple of his teammates were standing around his locker, laughing.
What the hell?
A blow up dol ? He moved in closer. A male blow up dol with a large penis hung from his locker. The guys snickered. As a veteran he was supposed to be exempt from any pranks, especial y ones like this. “Who the hel put this here?”
He tore down the dol and with it tumbled out several hard-core male porn magazines. Laughter broke out again. It was unlikely any of the guys did this. His teammates wouldn’t be caught dead buying this crap. Realization dawned on him and he looked at Jake, in unison they said,
“Jameson.”
***
Apparently, a lot was up and he wasn’t looking forward to confronting Samantha.
***
Ryan closed the door and fol owed her in. “I’m not here for that. It’s about Burner. You can’t write the story.”
Samantha wore her own look of disbelief on her face. “Oh, I’m running with the story.”
“Burner thinks I told you. So wil everyone else.”
“A drug dealer told me. You see, that’s one of the reasons we shouldn’t have gotten involved.” She pointed a finger at him. “I warned you.”
“That piece of shit from the charity dinner?” he asked with his voice raised.
“How did you know?”
“He told you that to impress you. To get in your pants.”
Samantha’s jaw dropped, but she recovered quickly. “Wel , you’d be the expert in that, wouldn’t you?”
Ryan winced. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She paced the room, her arms crossed. “Why are you mad at me? I’m not the one who broke the law.” She stopped and glared at him. “Be mad at Burner.”
“You’re wil ing to ruin his career and our season, on the word of a convicted drug dealer?”
“It’s not MY season. I’m supposed to be impartial.”
Ryan shook his head. “What if it were me?” he whispered.
What would Samantha Jameson, the reporter do?
Run with it.
What would Samantha Jameson, the woman, do? “I wouldn’t believe it.”
Ryan sighed. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. “Then believe this, Samantha. As much as the rookie is an irritating asshole, he’s not doping.”
It went against everything she learned. Get the story. Don’t think about the cost. Where had that gotten in her in Iraq? Lives lost. Lives changed forever. Didn’t she promise herself she’d be a different reporter? Isn’t that why she left hard news? “My editor--”
He dropped his hands to his side. “Your editor won’t be the one in the locker room. You wil . You won’t be just un-welcome, you’l be blackbal ed.”
“That’s what my Dad said.”
“Then if you won’t listen to me, listen to him.”
“He says I should go back to writing hard news.”
“You should and not because it would make things easier for us. You’re too talented for us dumb jocks.”
“I don’t think you’re a dumb jock.” She remembered chastising Hannah for being so hard on Jake. “I won’t file the story. At least, not right now. I have to think.”
“I’l leave you to it.”
“But we could…could…”
“What? Make love? Or have sex? You should think on that, too.”
“Are you trying to punish me?”
“You’ve got it wrong.” He brushed her lips with a kiss. “I’m punishing myself.”
The next day, Samantha sat slumped in her chair, going over the conversation with Ryan. The newsroom buzzed with activity. She didn’t tel Ryan, but she had a little more on Burner than the word of a drug dealer. Photos of Burner and the dealer lay strewn across her desk. And Burner wouldn’t talk to her. She cal ed him again this morning and he threatened to sue her and the paper if she went after him.
If Ryan hadn’t been so adamant in defending the rookie, she would’ve run the story. But she trusted Ryan, so she would trust in his instinct. Even if it went against hers. How was she going to tel Mike? She looked to the glass enclosed office. Two men in suits stood in front of his desk.
Good.
I’ve got time.
What was Mike going to think? Would he give the story to another reporter? Her phone rang and she picked it up. Before she could give a greeting, Mike’s voice boomed out, “Jameson, get in here.”
Samantha hung up the phone and looked back to the office. The two men were stil there. Could they be Burner’s lawyers?
Good, maybe the
decision will be taken out of my hands.
“Close the door,” said Mike.
Samantha raised her eyebrows and did what she was told.
“Agents Cussler and Clancy from the ATF.”
Samantha shook their hands.
Was Burner under investigation?
“Burner is working in cooperation with the Feds to bring down a drug ring.” Mike leaned back in his chair. “Turns out, Burner’s best friend in high school died from steroids. When he was approached to buy, he went to the Feds.”
Ryan was right
.
“And for our cooperation, you’l be granted an exclusive. Hel , they even invited you on the raid.”
For the first time one of the agents spoke. “Is that agreeable to you, Miss Jameson?” asked Cussler.
She looked to Mike, who motioned yes.
“Yes,” she answered.
Ryan was right.
Clancy handed her his card. “We’l be in touch.”
The agents left, closing the door behind them. She looked back at Mike. “Holy crap, Jameson, you’ve got the proverbial nose for news.”
Angry with herself, Samantha strode back to her desk. This time she could’ve ruined Burner’s career and an ongoing investigation. Last time, it was a life. A nose for news? More like a nose for trouble.
Her cel phone rang. She checked the screen. “Hi, Ryan.” She owed him an apology.
“Hi. I read today’s paper.”
Her inner debate on the steroid story made her forget al about Jenny’s debut column appearing today. “I hope you’re not mad.”
“Mad? I’m a pile of mush right now.”
She thought she heard him sniff. “You’re like a superhero to her.”
“Naw, if I was real y a superhero I’d find a cure for Jenny’s cancer.”
“Not even Superman can do that.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He sounded down and she wished she was there to give him a hug. “Do you want me to come over?”
“Hel , yeah. I need to do something manly.”
Samantha told him she’d be right over, thinking he was the very essence of what a man should be.
***
She wondered how long she and Ryan could keep their affair under cover. Each night, she snuck in and out of his apartment like she was a Washington D.C. intern.
The second-half started and she yawned. Maybe, she should go back to writing hard news. Truthful y, if it weren’t for Ryan playing, she’d be bored out of her mind.
The huddle broke and instead of watching the play like she should, her gaze zeroed on Ryan. He broke down the field and cut left, faking out the defense, leaving himself wide open. She glanced to the quarterback.
Throw the ball.
And he did. The bal sailed through the air, but it was too high.
Ryan leapt, with one hand extended. His fingers grazed the bal , but he was able to pul it in. From the corner of her eye, Samantha spotted a defensive player charging towards Ryan.
No!
She stood up.
Vulnerable with his feet just touching the ground, the player from the other team leaped and speared Ryan in the helmet. The crunch of the col ision fil ed the stadium. A col ective ‘oh’ from the crowd fol owed.
His head snapped back and hit the ground. His helmet bounced off the green turf. Silence. Stil ness.
Flags for the infraction flew in the air. The team trainer and doctor ran out to the field.
“He’s not moving,” said Bradley
Samantha stood frozen. She doubted her own heartbeat. Only her mind raced.
No. No. Please, God. Not him.
Samantha had seen too much death. She couldn’t handle another. Especial y his.
I love you.
And she never told him. She was given a second chance in Iraq and she blew it. Tears wel ed in her eyes.
“Final y. Jameson, the screen,” said Bradley.
She dared a look at the television hanging on the wal , but with the trainer and doctor hunched over him, she could only see Ryan’s unmoving feet.
Jake stood by and the camera zoomed in on his worried face. Then they broke away to show a replay of the hit. She looked back to the field. How could anyone want to watch that again?
How much time had gone by? She glanced at her watch. Two minutes?
Not good
. She picked up the binoculars.
Come on Ryan. Move. For
me.
As if he heard her, his ankle moved. “There!” She pointed her finger to the field.
The trainers waved the stretcher over. Tears of relief spil ed out as she plopped down onto the seat. The other reporters pounded away at their keyboards while she stared at her screen, the cursor prompting her. Prompting her for what? To write about what just happened? How could she even begin to be unbiased about that?
The man I love almost died today.
The cursor blinked, prompting her.
And I did nothing.
How could she sit there another moment while he was being carted off the field? Ryan was more important to her than any job. He needs me.
I
need him.
She grabbed her purse and ran for the elevator.
***
Ryan groaned as his vision cleared.
“Fal ing down on the job again, Terel ?” teased Jake.
Despite the dig, Ryan could hear the concern in his friend’s voice and that scared the shit out of him.
What the hell happened?
“Piss off, Jake,” he sputtered out. His stomach retched, but he held back the vomit. He wasn’t going to disgrace himself on the field in front of eighty thousand fans.
Ryan tried to sit up, but the trainer held him down.
“Whoa, not so fast. Do you feel that?”
Hands probed his body. “Yeah.”
“Good, Ryan, that’s good. Now, what’s the score?”
“We’re winning?”
The trainer frowned.
Jake butted in, “I don’t pay attention to the score either.”
The trainer ignored Jake and continued, “Do you remember what happened?”
“I got hit in head.” That was just a guess. For al he knew a tractor trailer broke out onto the field and ran him over.
“You’re looking good Terel , but you had a two minute LOC. We’re taking you to the hospital to run tests.”