“Fuck…you….dyke….”
“Bzzt! Wrong answer.” She strode easily over to the phone hanging on one wall. “I’m sorry about this, Horace. Really, I am. But if you can’t swim with the big dogs, well….I’m sure you know how the rest of it goes.”
“Yes! Yes!! ....deal….!”
Dylan beamed. “I knew you’d see it my way eventually. For the record, though, I would have called in the paramedics either way. You’re scum, but I want you to live with your mistakes and my threat hanging over your head for a good long while. I get nasty that way when you threaten people I love.” Picking up the phone, she called for the paramedics and ambulance crew stationed outside the arena. Hanging up, the turned to the pale, panting man and patted one of his cheeks before bending down and retrieving the folder. “Goodbye, Horace. A little slice of heaven, and all that.”
As she exited the box, he slid slowly down the wall, clutching his chest and retching violently. Behind him, barely heard, the buzzer sounded, ending the game.
Cat walked, shoulders slumped, down the long, dark hallway leading to the locker room. She could hear the boos of the crowd echoing along the corridor, but it did little to lift her spirits. Even the fact that she’d managed, somehow, to score thirty two points in the game didn’t cheer her. If she had known that her last second three pointer had narrowed the lead to eleven, thus losing the ubiquitous Horace Johnson two hundred thousand plus dollars, she might have smiled.
Then again, she might not have.
Cat was a woman who didn’t like to lose. And she had never, ever lost a championship game she’d ever been a part of, from the Bridgeport Girl’s Club Rec League all the way through her final year at UConn. When it counted, she always found a way to win.
Always.
“Except today,” she mumbled, looking at the scuffed and dirty floor as it passed beneath her scuffed and dirty sneakers. “Fuck.”
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”
As Cat looked up, Dylan detached herself from the shadows, crossed over to her, and enveloped her in her long, strong arms. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Cat snuggled into the warm embrace, tears pricking at her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dylan,” she murmured against the fabric of her lover’s warm-up jacket.
Dylan pulled away just enough to reach a hand under Cat’s chin and tilt it up so that their eyes met. “Sorry? What could you possibly be sorry for? You did great!”
“But we lost!”
“Hon, that wasn’t your fault.”
“But—”
“Cat, listen to me. You did everything you could. How many times does the point guard, one with four fouls against her, by the way, get to be the high scorer of the game? Thirty two points, Cat! Seven steals! Nineteen assists! Those are All-Star numbers! Hell, they’re Hall of Fame numbers! You need to be proud of that! I sure as Hell am!”
Cat shook her head, looking away from her lover’s blazing eyes. “It doesn’t matter. We still lost.”
“No, Cat. Remember what I said before. We didn’t win because Horace fixed it. But we’re not losers. Listen to that crowd out there. They know who won. And it wasn’t the Monarch, no matter what the scoreboard says.” She chuckled. “And it certainly wasn’t Horace Johnson, either.”
Cat’s eyes went round. “What? But how can you— But you said—”
“Yeah, he bet against us, that’s true enough. But, he also bet against the spread, and with your last second bucket, you brought us inside that spread and he lost himself a bundle of cash.” The wan smile she received wasn’t enough, and Dylan took her lover back into her arms again. “Sweetheart, within a week, probably less, your phone is going to start ringing off the hook with calls from owners, coaches and scouts who want to wine and dine you into accepting a huge dollar contract from them. The same with sponsors. Your agent’s gonna think she died and went to Agent Heaven. With how you performed out there today, despite all the obstacles thrown in your path, you can write your own ticket. You won, Cat. You won it all.”
“But…what about the contract I already have? With the Badgers?”
“If it isn’t dissolved yet, it soon will be. Easy split, no nasty words, you’re just left free and clear to follow your heart.”
Cat looked up at Dylan, her eyes showing her puzzlement. “But…how?”
“Horace and I…came to an understanding.” That shark’s grin came again. “In exchange for keeping some rather nasty information to myself, you get cut loose with no strings, anyone else who wants to leave gets the same ticket and, for the piece de resistance….” She twirled an imaginary moustache, “...he’s selling the team.”
“Oh my God,” Cat breathed. “What the hell do you have on him?”
Dylan shook her head. “The less you know about that, the better off you’re gonna be, love. Let’s just say that Mac was able to dig up a couple of things that could have put our ex-owner in the pokey for a very long time. In exchange for my silence in the matter, he’s accepted my terms.”
“But that’s blackmail!”
Dylan’s grin was unrepentant. “You bet it is, darlin’. Blackmail for a blackmailer. He got hoist up by his own ass, and I’m the one holding the scissors. And he knows it. He’s through, Cat. Finished. And it couldn’t have happened to a bigger scum sucker.”
“And what about you?”
“He can do what he wants with me,” she replied, shrugging. “It doesn’t really matter.”
“He could ruin you, Dylan! He could spread things about you all over the place! Horrible things!”
“As long as your name and face is kept out of those ‘things’, Cat, then I’m not worried. My reputation will either speak for me, or it won’t. And either way,” she shrugged again, “it doesn’t matter.”
“But basketball is your life!”
“I’ve come to find that I’ve got other priorities now, my love.” So saying, she bent down to give Cat a soft kiss. “Something much more important to me than basketball could ever be.” She pulled away. “You, however….”
Cat frowned. Dylan looked alarmed. “Cat? What is it?”
“What would you think if I told you that…maybe…basketball isn’t what I want anymore, either?”
“Cat, you can’t mean that! You’re just starting out! You’ll be the star this league is looking for, love! You deserve that!”
“Dylan,” Cat said, sighing, “if tonight proved anything to me, it proved that this is not the basketball I fell in love with. It’s not a game anymore. It’s politics, it’s bullshit, and, tonight, it’s a joke. Why would I want to be the star of something that I detest? What does a whole room full of money mean when I can’t stand to do my job anymore?”
“Oh, Cat….”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll think differently about all this tomorrow, but for right now….” She shook her head. Then, for the first time tonight, a genuine smile curved her lips. “You told me I was free to follow my heart, right?”
Dylan nodded.
“Good,” she replied, pulling her lover in close, “because right now, my heart wants a big bowl of ice cream, a long soak in your Jacuzzi, and you, naked.”
“Ohhhh, darlin, your heart can have whatever it wants, any place, any time.”
“Good. Then let’s get changed and get the hell out of here.”
“Right behind you.”
Before they could leave, however, Dylan made a farewell speech to her team. “...and you should all be proud as Hell over what you managed to accomplish. Not just tonight, but through the entire season. You became more than what you started out as. You became a team, the best damn team in the league. You comported yourself with style and grace, flair and good sportsmanship. And when you look back on this night some day, years from now, you’ll see that it, more than any other, was the point that you went from being simple ballplayers to being champions.” She gave a fond smile to each member. “As a result of what happened here tonight, there are going to be some changes, changes that you’ll be hearing about shortly. Basically, this team is being dissolved and the owner is stepping down. Any one of you who want out of your contracts will be allowed out, free and clear. You’ll be back on the open market, and believe me, with what you showed everyone out there today, you’re all going to be fielding a lot of phone calls.”
“What about you, coach?” Chaney asked.
“That…remains up in the air. But I’m not worried about it, and none of you should be either, alright?”
There was some grumbling over this, but a look from ‘the Goddess’ quieted it instantly. “I just wanted to tell you all that I’ve been proud, damn proud, to be associated with each and every one of you. You’re a helluva team, and I wish you nothing but good luck and smooth sailing wherever your careers take you. Thanks for taking me on this trip with you.”
As one, the team stood and began to chant Dylan’s name. Even though they hadn’t won, champagne corks popped and they were soon dousing one another with the bubbly liquid, laughing and cheering as if they’d taken the whole thing.
Cat joined in the laughter as she watched her lover use her much vaunted defensive skills to stay, for the moment, out of the fracas. She was right, Cat thought with a sense of surprise. That jerk could keep us from winning, but he could never make us lose.
And with her spirits thusly buoyed, she waded into the fray, a freshly popped champagne bottle ready for dumping on the most beautiful woman she knew, inside and out. Screw you, Johnson, and screw you basketball. There’s finally something in my heart more important than the both of you could ever be.
And then, she pounced.
The END
EPILOGUE
“Dylan?”
“Mmn?”
Grinning, Cat fanned herself with her open copy of “Alabama Coaches Monthly”. Lowering her sunglasses just slightly, she turned her head to fully take in the view of the woman beside her. Lying on her belly in a seaside lounge chair, Dylan Lambert was the posterchild for clean living. Toned almost black by the constant sun, the white thong part of her bathing suit left nothing to the imagination, and Cat spent a good few minutes mapping every curve and valley of the long body stretched out before her. The tiny straps that held her top—what there was of it—up were, of course, untied to permit even tanning, and Cat found herself half-hoping that a loud noise or something would startle her somnolent lover enough to have her come up from her position.
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