Games of the Heart

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His words mocked her, momentarily weakening her resolve, but she rebounded before frustration set in. “Marshall’s warming up to me. I’ve made a lot of progress in the last six days. In fact, he…” Sage racked her brain for something, anything that would impress her boss. “He’s taking me out for dinner tonight.”

“It’s time for you to step aside and let me take the reins. I’m going to square his debts, buy him a Porsche and see to it that he never has to work again. That’ll bring him around.”

She shook her head. “Money isn’t the right angle, Leo. Marshall Grant can’t be bought.”

“Everyone has a price, Sage. Everyone.”

There was an exception to every rule and Marshall Grant was it. Integrity was at the heart of who he was and he’d rather do without than break the rules. “His place is real nice. It’s small, but cozy and he has all new furniture.”

“You’ve been inside their house?”

Detecting awe in her boss’s voice, she donned an innocent, wide-eyed look. “Oh, I was there for hours,” she lied, hoping he believed the tale she was spinning. “If Marshall didn’t have to go to work. I would have closed the deal right then and there.” It was an outrageous lie, but it was the only thing she could think of.

“That’s the closest anyone’s ever got to the family.”

“I’m not surprised,” Sage said. “Marshall’s very protective of his son.”

“Khari was there?”

“Yeah. Great kid, and smart too. With his grades and basketball skills, he can get a full scholarship to any school of his choosing.”

“Good work. I can’t believe you pulled that off.”

“Does that mean you’ll give me an extension?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“No.” His voice was firm, like a steel door slamming shut in her face. “I need you back here pronto. Hailey Hope’s up for a Teen Choice Award and I need you to accompany her to the show. It’s in Orlando, and the Hope clan has never been to O-Town. Throw out the red carpet. Take them to see the dolphins. You know the drill.”

Her eyes tapered. “I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are. I’m still your boss and that’s an order.”

“But I’m making progress with Marshall. You said so yourself!”

“You were lucky.”

“Luck is the time when preparation and opportunity meet,” she told him matter-of-factly. “Don’t give up on me, Leo. I can make this happen.”

“Pack up and come home.” His tone was brisk, reminding her that he was the one in charge. “I’m tied up here right now, I should be out that way soon. Tell Marshall to expect me when you say goodbye.”

Her mind raced, spinning futilely with no end in sight. “I’m taking my holidays,” she announced. “I’ll be back in three weeks.”

“That’s not how things are done around here, Sage. You have to apply for time off like everyone else and wait for my approval.”

“Really?” she challenged, eyes blazing. “I don’t remember Jamaar or Whitney putting in notice when they went to the Bermuda Jazz Festival.”

“They’re model employees,” he explained, adjusting his silk tie. “They’ve been with me for years. I don’t mind making an exception for dedicated staff.”

“I’m glad you feel that way because I’ve been with the agency longer, and if you check my file you’ll see that I’ve signed more clients.”

Leo’s mouth remained a taut scowl, but she could hear whispering in the background.

Undeterred, Sage continued. “I’m entitled to four weeks paid vacation and I’m taking it effective Monday.”

“What is she up to?” asked a voice that didn’t belong to her boss.

“Know this,” Leo spat out between clenched teeth, “if you’re not back here by March first I’ll be mailing out your severance pay.”

Not bothering to reply to his threat, she closed her laptop. Dropping her head on the desk, she closed her eyes and soaked up the quiet sounds of the morning. Sage felt like a ship without a compass floating aimlessly at sea. She thought she’d made progress with Marshall, but Leo had made her feel inadequate. The problem was she hadn’t been aggressive enough. Standing, she packed up her laptop, tucked it under her arm and dashed into the bedroom. Sometimes to win you had to break the rules and that’s exactly what she intended to do. Game on!

Two hours later, Sage stepped onto the Westchester Academy football field. Her eyes watered, her teeth chattered and her body shivered against the punishing arctic wind. Rubbing her hands together, she hustled across the field, searching the bleachers for Marshall.

Spotting him, she wet her lips and ignored the sharp tingling sensation between her legs. Clad in a toque, a button-down jacket and jeans, Marshall towered head and shoulders above the spectators standing beside him. What was with this guy and plaid? she wondered, shaking her head in distaste. Didn’t he realize that it had never, ever been in style? Marshall had wide shoulders, a powerful chest and was a staggering six feet six inches tall, but he wore the ugliest clothes. He was an attractive guy; he just didn’t know how to dress. A trip to Nordstrom would cure him of his comfort-over-style mindset and not a moment too soon. Khari was going to be a superstar athlete and the quicker Marshall got with the program the better. Goodbye Eddie Bauer stores, hello Hermès boutiques!

Anxious to talk to the single father, she climbed the steps and squeezed herself onto the crowded bench, almost knocking over a kid in the process. By the time Marshall noticed her she was standing beside him. “Hey, Marshall. What’s up?”

“Sage? What are you doing here?” he asked, his face lined with confusion.

His words slammed into her chest. There was no mistaking the edge in his voice. He was not happy to see her. Fussing with her scarf, she glanced out onto the football field. “I—I, um, it’s a funny thing…” she stammered, unsure of what to say.

“I invited her,” Khari said, tossing a handful of popcorn into his open mouth.

Swiveling around, Sage offered the teen a gracious smile. Making a mental note to thank him privately later, she turned back to Marshall. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you. I don’t know anyone else here and I’d feel silly sitting alone.”

His smile returned. “Are you here to solicit business for World Mission?”

“No, not today, but I’m always on the lookout for generous donors. Do you have any rich friends in the parent association that you’d like to introduce me to?”

Marshall curved an arm around her waist and stared deep into her eyes. “No, Ms. Collins. I think I’ll keep you all to myself.”

The roar of the crowd drowned out Sage’s girlish laughter.

During the game, they talked about their respective jobs and their mutual love of sports. And when Marshall went down to the canteen to buy her a cup of hot chocolate, Sage couldn’t help thinking he was unlike anyone she’d ever met. Though the at-risk-community youth director wasn’t her usual type, she found herself attracted to him. His quiet, calm demeanor was a great compliment to her assertive personality. There was an air of humility about him, but he didn’t put up with any crap, either. He struck a fine balance of being cool and firm, and if he wasn’t from small-town Indiana, she’d be all over him.

“You like my dad, huh?”

Sage looked over at Khari. The teen was watching her, an amused expression on his slim face. “Your father’s a very nice man.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“He’s all right, I guess.”

Khari grinned. “Yeah, okay. You definitely like him.”

“No, I don’t.” Despite her better judgment, she asked the questions circling her mind. “Is he dating anyone right now?”

“No, never, but since I—” he corrected himself. “I mean, since the team started playing better, more women have been pushing up on Dad.”

Shame wedged in her throat, preventing her from speaking.

“I was the one interviewed on ESPN, but my pop’s the one getting crazy play!” Khari confessed with a chuckle.

“You don’t say?” Now Sage understood why Khari was attracting nation-wide attention. Every sports agent in the country had seen him on TV and had descended on the city like a pack of vultures. “You’ve become a celebrity overnight and now everyone feels like they know you, huh?”

“Yeah,” he replied quietly. “I just hope no one’s trying to play my dad.”

Sage gulped. “Me too, Khari. Me too.”

Sage bit into her Meat Lover’s pizza, her gaze fixed on Marshall and the woman in the tight baby-blue sweater. Gulping down a mouthful of Cherry Coke, she wondered if everything Khari told her about his dad was true. Marshall might not be dating anyone, but he sure liked to flirt.

“More soda?” The sound of the waiter’s voice drew her attention.

Nodding, she raised her glass. “Thanks.”

After Westchester Academy won in double overtime, the football team and their fans had crammed into Dominos to celebrate the hard-fought win. But with teachers, parents and students all talking at once, it was hard for Sage to spend more than a minute with Marshall.

Taking another bite of pizza, she took notes on her competition. The blonde had delicate features and long flowing hair that kissed her shoulders. There was no denying her beauty, and when Marshall refilled her water glass, Sage felt a stab of envy.

Disappointed that a man as intuitive as Marshall Grant could fall for such a plastic-looking woman, she sighed inwardly. Sitting back in her chair, she allowed her gaze to wander. Sage was surrounded by people, amid laughter, smiles and jokes, but she felt oddly alone.

“Want me to go over there and tell my dad you want to talk to him?”

Sage didn’t bother to look at Khari. “No. I already told you, I don’t like him that way.”

“Then why are you eyeballing him so hard?”

Stuffing a meatball into her mouth, she avoided the teen’s intense gaze. He was an engaging kid, but his constant queries were more irritating than nails on a chalkboard.

“You’re feeling my dad. I can tell.”

Sage choked on her Italian sausage. Rubbing the ache in her chest, she shot a look at Khari, who was slumped back in his seat, chuckling. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Admit you like pops and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Your dad’s too serious for me,” she argued, cleaning her hands on a napkin. “I bet he color codes his socks, irons his boxer shorts and listens to Mozart.”

“That’s cold, Sage! Pops isn’t that bad.”

“I’m right, though, aren’t I?”

His smile was answer enough, but he said, “See, you guys just met and you already know him so well! I’m telling you, Sage, y’all were meant to be together.”

“Drop it, Khari.”

“I’m not a kid. I see the way you guys look at each other. I know what’s up.”

Sage bit back a smile. She’d caught Marshall staring at her a few times, but thought nothing of it. Besides, if he was interested in her, why had he spent all night flirting with Malibu Barbie? “Why are you sitting here with me?” she asked, turning the tables on him. “You should be eating with your friends.”

“I invited you, remember? I can’t leave you alone. You’re my personal guest.” Khari folded his pizza in half and took a bite. “Besides, it’s fun giving you a hard time.”

“I can see that.” Sage sipped her drink, the cold, sweet liquid alleviating the sudden tightness in her throat. Anxious to change the subject, she maneuvered the conversation away from Marshall and asked Khari about school. “What are your plans after graduation?”

His face brightened. “I’m going pro.”

“But your dad wants you to study medicine.”

“That’s his dream, not mine. I’m entering the NBA draft and nothing’s going to stop me.”

Sage was surprised, but kept her tone even. “Does your father know?”

“I’ll be eighteen soon. I don’t need his approval.” Squaring his shoulders, he thumped a hand to his chest. “I know what I’m doing. I can take care of myself.”

“Khari, it’s not that simple,” she told him. “You’re going to need a manager, an agent, a publicist and a damn good lawyer to make it happen.”

“I am?”

Sage nodded. “And the sooner you find representation the better. The draft is still months away, but your first order of business will be to set up a meeting with the NBA’s Board of Directors. The committee will determine whether or not you can handle the pressure of playing in the league. If they think you can cut it, they’ll give you the go-ahead and you can write an official letter declaring your eligibility.”

“Really?” Eyes wide, Khari scratched the top of his head. “I—I thought I just entered the draft and waited for the offers to roll in.”

“The NBA is the most lucrative sports organization in the world,” she explained. “Commissioner Stern isn’t going to let money-hungry, high school players destroy the league, no matter how high they can jump.”

“Shoot! What am I going to do now?”