It's Only Love

by Mel Curtis

  “Good morning, Coach.” Vivian was the last person Trent wanted to see this early.

  His team was sluggish. None of them would look at him, not even his staff. FrankenViv was the only person with the balls to talk to him.

  Not that he wasn’t in a bad mood, too. Cora hadn’t come to his hotel room last night. It was the first time since they’d started seeing each other that he’d slept alone.

  When he’d texted her last night, asking how her evening went, she replied: Disaster. Will explain tomorrow. Like any good Southern boy, he replied with a helping hand: Bad days deserve foot rubs. She hadn’t responded.

  “Did you read the L.A. Happenings column today?” Vivian purred like a barnyard cat about to pounce.

  “No.” Trent veered around her toward the practice gym. The morning’s cardio was over. The scoring drills were about to start. With their first pre-season game in two days, all Trent had time to read was the sports page.

  Vivian trotted next to him and held out her phone display. “I think you should read this.”

  The team was docilely starting a scoring drill, attacking the basket as aggressively as a litter of sleepy pups.

  Trent sighed and took Vivian’s phone. The first line made him smile – Cora being a rule-breaker. So true. The second line about corrupting the Reverend should have been a warning, a precursor to the report of her kissing some movie producer dude. That sucked the smile off his face. He scrolled down to see a picture of a man in a tuxedo bending Cora over backward while in a lip-lock. Trent scowled. He scrolled back up to the date of the post, hoping it was old. It wasn’t.

  Jealous anger rushed through him with dam-bursting intensity, sucking him under, muffling all sound. And then came the cold reality – she’d tarnished the Reverend’s reputation. Her lack of principles risked what he was trying to do for Randy and Archie.

  He’d told Cora he wanted to be exclusive. He’d asked her out for ice cream. How much clearer could a man be?

  And what had she done? Run into another man’s arms. Literally! No wonder she hadn’t texted him back last night. She was sleeping with someone else.

  The team’s drill ground to a halt.

  A whiff of vanilla drifted on the air.

  Trent thrust Vivian’s phone into her chest, releasing it without waiting for her to take possession. It clattered to the ground. Glass shattered. He spun.

  Cora stood in the gym entry, easing the door closed behind her, like a teenager sneaking in after curfew.

  The roaring in his ears intensified, funneled his vision, until he could only see Cora.

  Trent charged across the distance between them, not stopping as he dragged her on his way out. “I can put up with a lot of shit from people, but not public infidelity.” He trapped her against a wall in the hall corridor mere feet from the janitor’s closet. “We’re through.” Despite his words, he didn’t let her go. He paused, waiting to hear what she had to say. He wanted her to beg and apologize and promise it wouldn’t happen again.

  News flash: He was pathetic.

  “After the night I had, you want me to apologize? Me?” She pushed off his arms and swung him around so his back was to the wall. “If I was a man, I’d deck you.”

  The fire in her eyes and indignation in her voice calmed the roar in his ears, broke through his tunnel vision.

  “How do you know I didn’t misjudge…” She trailed off and pulled back. Hurt flashed in those dark eyes before disappearing behind a wall of ice. “I thought you trusted me.” Cora may have been looking at Trent, but she wasn’t seeing him. A war was raging behind her dark eyes. He’d bet it was a three-pronged offensive – the desire to defend herself against the need to represent the Dooley Foundation against the worst of betrayals – the man she’d trusted with her body had leapt past trust to accusations.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  He should have set aside the Reverend and asked her what happened last night. He should have known anything Viv showed him was crap. He prayed it wasn’t too late. “Cora, I – ”

  “For the love of God,” Vivian interrupted in her goddess of hell voice. “I can tell by this picture you’ve slept with Cal. Admit you cheated so Coach can move on with his day.”

  Cora turned, but instead of telling Vivian to go to hell, she told her to follow her into Jack’s office. “I have something I need to say and I’m not going to say it in front of them.” She pointed toward the gymnasium doors.

  The basketball team was pressed against the double doors. Antoine was holding one open a crack. Trent hadn’t noticed them following. Randy shouldn’t have let them.

  “I’m sure whatever you have to say will be public knowledge soon, anyway,” Vivian said, but she strutted down the hallway with all the confidence of a woman who’d stacked the deck of her final hand.

  “Get back to work,” Trent snapped at his team.

  He wanted to take Cora’s hand as they walked shoulder to shoulder. He wanted to believe Vivian had no reason to wear a winner’s attitude. More than anything, he wanted to shred the picture of Cora kissing another man from his mental file cabinet. But he didn’t claim Cora’s hand, and he didn’t hold onto more than a small grain of hope.

  They sat in the office, Vivian on one side of the desk, he and Cora on the other.

  “Viv, I’ve tried to help you reclaim your confidence and get your husband back, but I can’t do it anymore. As of now, I’m no longer your life coach.” Cora’s voice softened. “Honestly, I thought we could be friends. But the hatred you have for the Flash gets in the way, just like your hatred of the Flash gets in the way of your future with Jack. Sometimes you just have to say what the hell, and move on.”

  Vivian looked mildly uncomfortable.

  “I have to clear the air.” Cora stared at her shoes. “I’m not perfect. I’m trying to grow as a person and move on from my mistakes. But people like you two…You can’t let me do that. You’ve pigeon-holed me.” Cora’s voice pitched high and stretched taut. “What does it matter that I’m only seeing one guy now? You still want to rub my nose in the past. You want to judge me by who I used to be.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath and lifted her gaze to Trent’s. “Fine. I’ll make it that much easier for you to judge so that we can all move on. I’ve had sex with my share of L.A.’s movers and shakers, including Cal and Jack.”

  A fast ball of disappointment struck Trent’s gut.

  The office door was flung open and banged against the wall.

  ~*~

  To say Jack Gordon stormed the castle trying to reclaim his throne would be an overstatement. To say he knew how to make an entrance at the wrong time would be precisely on the mark.

  Cora wanted to tell Jack to wait. She wanted to hear Trent’s reaction to her confession. She didn’t know what scared her more – the possibility that he’d reject her and what they had was over, or the possibility that he could accept her for who she was, flaws and all.

  Next to her, Trent frowned with the unreadable face of the Reverend.

  A vortex of disappointment swirled in her midsection, so powerful it seemed to suck her muscles into her core, until she wanted to give up and curl into a small, defeated ball.

  Jack sagged against the doorframe. “Viv,” he whispered hoarsely, clearly out of breath. His illness had taken its toll. His legs were scarecrow thin beneath his hospital gown. “Get out of my chair.”

  Viv, who’d paled at Cora’s admission, paled further at Jack’s appearance.

  The Flash owner stumbled across the plush carpet on unsteady legs and bare feet. There were red stains on the front of his gown.

  Cora stood to help him, but Trent brought her back down with a firm hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have a dog in this fight, sugar,” he murmured.

  “Viv, you’ve been trying to ruin me.” Jack’s words dipped and floundered as much as his steps.

  “I’ve been trying to save our marriage. You do remember what our marriage was like before you bought this team.” Viv gri
pped the arms of the chair and spared Cora a deadly glance. “Before you started banging every slut in town.”

  Her words shouldn’t have wounded. Cora opened her mouth to say something – heaven only knew what – but Trent subtly shushed her.

  Jack leaned against the desk and wiped his forehead. His bare ass parted the sides of the robe. His wrists were red and chafed, as were his ankles. Cora knew they’d confined him to bed for his safety. She should have realized he’d never allow anyone to tie him down.

  “Viv, you let them drug me and tie me up. You left me alone in the hospice ward! Now, get out of my chair.”

  “No.” Viv’s declaration was one step removed from the childish, “Make me.”

  “I’ve done all this for you, you fucking fool. Get out of the chair so I can make things right.”

  Say what? Cora peered at Jack’s sickly face. Could it be that he loved Viv more than anyone realized?

  “Make what right?” Viv’s voice dripped with woman-done-wrong venom. “I didn’t ask for any of this. All I ever wanted was you.”

  “You left me. And then I was left with nothing but women like her.” Jack jabbed his skeletal finger at Cora.

  “The slut in the room has already stolen your thunder.” Viv flung the words at her husband like a pot of scalding water. “You can’t hurt me anymore.”

  “Get out of my chair, Viv, or I’ll tell you all the details of how we did it.”

  Cora felt light-headed.

  “The hell you will.” Trent stood. “There are ladies present.” Trent was sweetly Southern, but way out of his league.

  Cora stood, too. “We need to get Jack back to the hospital.” It didn’t matter if he returned to the room with Cal’s dad or not. He looked like he’d collapse at any moment.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Viv accused. “Before he spills all the sordid details in front of your boyfriend.”

  Squinting, Jack swung his head groggily in Trent’s direction. Cora wasn’t sure he’d realized Trent was in the room.

  “Nobody needs details.” Trent moved to Jack’s side, taking his arm. “Cora’s right. You shouldn’t be out of the hospital.”

  “Yes, let’s return him,” Viv said. “So I can proceed with the Evan Oliver trade. Golden State was interested.”

  Jack sneered, albeit weakly. “There was this one time – ”

  “Shut up.” Trent grabbed Jack by the front of his hospital gown, lifting the hem and exposing his junk to the room. “And act like a man.” He glared at Viv. “Get out of his chair before he collapses.”

  With her nose in the air, Viv slowly stood and stepped aside.

  Trent helped Jack into his throne, none too gently, and turned to Cora. “You slept with my boss? You couldn’t have given me that one piece of information?”

  Some of Cora’s indignation returned, elbowing back the pain of broken trust and fragile barely acknowledged dreams. “Are we back to counting?”

  “Get the women out,” Jack wheezed. Sweat glistened on his brow.

  “Do as he says.” Trent placed two fingers on Jack’s jugular, taking his pulse. “And have Nina call the team doctor.”

  “Viv didn’t switch up your hospital room. I did,” Cora admitted, standing tall. “You paid us to find Viv a man. She paid the Foundation to help you realize life and love shouldn’t be taken for granted.”

  “I should have known it wouldn’t work,” Viv snapped.

  “Cora. You did this to him?” Trent couldn’t disguise his disappointment, not in his voice or his gaze. It drenched Cora like a cold and sudden downpour, one she’d predicted, but one she’d dreaded nonetheless. She’d just proved what he’d been saying since they met – the Dooley Foundation meddled where they didn’t belong. And what everyone had been telling her all along – she’d slept with too many men to have a chance at love.

  “Leave,” Trent said to Cora. One word. He might just as well have added, “Forever.”

  “How could you think you were my friend?” Viv asked as they walked to the door. “You’re a whore. Going behind my back – ”

  “You were separated and I didn’t love him. Besides,” Cora said wearily. “Jack dropped everyone for you this summer.”

  “Everyone?” Viv murmured, as broken and hopeful as ever.

  “Everyone,” Cora confirmed.

  Chapter 29

  The mighty Jack Gordon trembled in his hard-won owner’s chair.

  Trent went into emergency mode – sending Nina for warm towels from the training room, sending Zach for clothes from the equipment manager, grabbing a Pepsi from the office refrigerator and forcing his boss to drink. Sugar and caffeine were just what he needed.

  “How bad is it?” With half a soda down, Jack’s voice was only slightly stronger than before.

  Relieved, Trent allowed himself to think of Cora. He’d thought they shared the same moral fiber. But she had more in common with Archie than Trent.

  Jack coughed. “Did Viv ruin everything for us?”

  “No. We postponed the media deal and ran interference on the Oliver trade.”

  Nina returned with warm towels. They blanketed him. Color slowly returned to Jack’s cheeks.

  “My cell phone is somewhere at my house. Send someone to get it. And order flowers for my mom, delivered to my house. The card should say something about how sorry I am and how much I love her.”

  Trent couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Jack Gordon using the “L” word.

  Jack sucked down more Pepsi. “What else? Tell me everything.”

  Trent told him about the junior college rental as their playing venue for the first half of the season.

  “I was supposed to meet with Honda Center management the night I fell ill. The NBA media contract was tied to the Honda deal and snagged when it came to scheduling. What else?”

  “Nothing more contractually. She’s tried to mess with players’ minds.” Trent paused as Zach came in with a black Flash T-shirt, basketball shorts, and socks.

  “The doctor’s five minutes away.” Zach kept his eyes averted from his boss’ junk while he helped the weaker man dress. “I couldn’t find any shoes your size. Everything in stock is a size fourteen or larger.”

  “Text Nina to grab a pair from the house,” Jack said.

  Trent brought Jack up to speed on the team’s progress with their added offense and the status of Hugh Irving. “I need approval to hire security to keep him out of trouble. The kid means well, but – ”

  “His decision-making is for shit.”

  The doctor entered with a bag he wheeled behind him. He took Jack’s blood pressure, his temperature, listened to his lungs, and looked down his throat. “You need to go back to the hospital. You’re not strong enough to fend off the common cold. You need sleep and whatever cocktail of antibiotics they were giving you.”

  “I’m not going back to that place. Give me whatever I need. My staff will make sure I get home safely.”

  “You’ll be dead long before they get you home safely.” The doctor wasn’t joking. Death warnings were etched in the lines on his face clearer than the lines on the gym floor. “Would you agree that your long-term health is in my hands?”

  “Yes.”

  “You heard him,” the doctor said enigmatically. He dug into his bag and produced a syringe. “This will keep you alive.”

  Jack held out his arm. The doc poked him and pressed the plunger. Almost immediately, Jack’s limbs slackened.

  “What the hell did you give him?” Whatever was in that syringe had worked so fast, Trent didn’t know whether to thank the doctor or call the cops.

  “Something to make him sleep. From what you’ve told me, his immune system is weak. The worst thing he could do right now is try to conquer the world.” The doctor closed his bag and headed toward the door.

  “But…” Trent held out his hands in supplication. “What am I supposed to do with him? Take him back to the hospital?”

  The team doc paused in
the doorway. “If he doesn’t want to be in the hospital, he won’t stay in the hospital. Get him home and hire a full-time nurse.” And then the doctor was gone.

  Jack gripped Trent’s shorts. “Do you think Viv slept with someone else?” There was an odd note of vulnerability in Jack’s slurred voice, a high strung tension usually missing in his brash, blustery tone.

  “No.” That was what his boss wanted to hear. Trent didn’t know for sure. Cora would know.

  Cora. How could he have been so wrong about her? He’d only known her for a few weeks, but –

  “Cora meant nothing to me,” Jack was saying. “None of them did.”

  Trent didn’t want to have this conversation. “Zach, I need you in here.”

  “And I know damn well I meant nothing to her,” Jack was saying. His head lolled from side to side. “She dumped me from across a crowded restaurant and – ”

  “I don’t need the details.”

  “She’s a good woman. All the Rules are, despite being a meddlesome bunch.” He was drooling now. “They make shit happen. Good shit. You could do worse. I didn’t always screw the good ones.”

  Trent wanted to vomit.

  Evan entered, cheeks ruddy, shirt sweat-drenched. “How is he?”

  “Medicated and running at the mouth.” Trent would have left his boss sitting there, except for the fear he’d pass out, slide to the floor, and hit his head.

  “It won’t bother me if you make an honest woman out of Cora,” Jack was saying. His head rested awkwardly on his shoulder. His eyes kept rolling back in his head. “We’d get a family discount from the Foundation.”

  “Is there any way to shut him up?” Trent shook Jack’s arm.

  “You could slug him.” Evan grinned. “I won’t tell.”

  Trent scrubbed a hand over his face. “The last time someone punched him, it ended up on ESPN.” Considering it was Evan who’d slugged him, Trent wasn’t keen on taking Evan’s advice. “Besides, he’s out of it.”

  “Seriously, Coach…Trent. I feel like I can call you Trent since you’re dating my sister-in-law.” Evan circled Jack in his chair, while Trent considered correcting his dating status. “You need to shut him the fuck up. If you don’t know by now, loving the Rules women means you gotta break some rules now and then.”