The older woman crossed her arms over her chest, scowling slightly. "Why can’t it work to have specific roles? Each of us has certain skills, Ryan. Doesn’t it make sense to do what we’re best at?"
"Sure, it makes sense," she said. "But it doesn’t work. No matter what, you’re the head coach – and if players don’t feel they can talk to you, you’ll never know what’s going on with the team. Some of the things that have happened this year have seriously harmed your credibility, Coach. Those issues eventually show up on the court – and then it’s too late to do anything about them."
"For example?"
"Well, I don’t want to reveal any confidences, but someone that you’re relying on is thinking of transferring. She hasn’t talked to you about how unhappy she is – because she doesn’t think you have any interest in talking to the players. Given the reception you gave me the few times I tried to talk to you – I don’t blame her a bit."
Mary shook her head, looking tired and frustrated. "I’m not good at it, Ryan. I’ve never been good at it. That’s why I’ve enjoyed working on the college level. I can concentrate on the game and leave the other things to my assistants."
"Then you’d better make that perfectly clear to the team. Give your assistants full authority over those matters – or you’re not gonna have enough players here to field a table tennis team. If I'd thought that Lynette had some authority, I would have felt much better about things. As it was, I talked to her without knowing if you’d ever hear my complaints."
"I can understand that," Mary said, nodding slowly. "I guess you’re right, Ryan. I’ve got to figure out how to make the environment more hospitable for the girls." She stared up at the ceiling and said, "I’ve shown such poor judgment at assessing girls' personalities, that I think I should avoid it as much as possible and leave those things to the assistants. I’ll try to make that clear next year."
"Well, that’s one way to look at it. Of course, you could try to challenge yourself to get closer to the players. A little effort would go a long way, Coach."
Giving the younger woman a warm smile, Coach Hayes nodded slowly. "I would guess you’d recommend doing it the hard way."
"That’s my nature," Ryan said, grinning.
"Well, I can’t say I’ve enjoyed our little chat, but maybe a few changes are in order."
"What changes are you going to make on this year’s team?" Ryan asked. "I assume it was Wendy who paid you a visit this morning."
"Yeah, it was," Mary said. "Should I believe what she told me?"
"Well, I don’t think she got any money," Ryan said. "But she admitted that she’s the one who told Janet about the uhm … incident. I’m not sure she knew that Janet was going to sell the info, but once she saw it in the tabloid, she couldn’t have had any doubts about who did it."
"That’s what I think, too," Mary said. "I don’t think I have the evidence to throw her off the team – but she’s not gonna set foot on the court during a game for the rest of the year. I don’t care if I have to put an ad in the Daily Californian for warm bodies – she’s gone."
"I assume Janet will be dealt with even more harshly?"
"Definitely. I’m talking to the Chancellor’s office this afternoon to see how much of her scholarship we can force her to pay back. We’re throwing her out of the dorm – so she’s gonna have to find a place to live for the rest of the term."
"You know," Ryan said thoughtfully, "I wish I could have kept my mouth shut and let this blow over; but in a way, I think this could be one of the best things that could have happened to the team. Knowing that you won’t put up with this kind of crap might give the other players an infusion of confidence."
"I hope so, Ryan. I’ve never had such a dreadful year in coaching. I guess the good news is that we have nowhere to go but up."
"That’s the way to think, Coach. You’re at the start of a new regime."
Mary shook her head, unable to keep from giving the young woman a warm smile. "Such an optimist. Maybe you should come back next year and be my personnel director."
"Oh, no can do, Coach. I’m under strict orders to kept my schedule open next year. I’m gonna learn how to relax." She smiled at the woman and walked towards the door. "I don’t know which of us has the bigger task ahead of us."
Once she was sure of her plan, Mia called Jordan to clue her in. "Hi," the brunette said when she reached her lover that evening.
"Hi, honey," Jordan replied, still not sounding like herself.
"I’ve got some news," Mia said. "I’ve decided that I’m going down to Hillsborough this weekend to tell my parents about us."
"What?"
"You heard me, sweetie. I’ve decided that there’s no reason to wait. They’re not going to be happy about it, so why not let them start getting over it now, rather than later?"
"Oh, Mia, I hate to see you bring this up now. Why not wait until you graduate, honey? Then they won’t have as much power over you."
"Jordan," Mia said, in a tone that got the blonde’s attention, "you’re the most important person in my life. It’s not fair to you or to me or to them to keep this a secret. Besides, I promised my mother that I’d tell her what’s going on as soon as we had things resolved. I think we do," she said softly. "I think we’ve decided to love each other as well as we can – for the rest of our lives."
"God, I love you," Jordan choked out before dissolving into tears. "You make me feel so special."
"You are," Mia insisted. "You’re the love of my life, Jordan. Don’t ever forget that."
Early the next morning, Ryan stood astride her bike watching an apartment building near campus. It was just after seven a.m., and she mused that weeks of planning and scheming were about to come to fruition.
The moment she saw a gangly, dark-haired man get into his car and drive off, she hopped off her bike. That’s my cue, she said to herself as a giggle escaped. Striding up to the front buzzer, she found the name and gave the bell a long, irritating ring. When a very perturbed female voice snapped, "What!" her grin increased and she dropped her voice an octave to say, "Special delivery for Cassandra Martin. I need a signature."
The next sound was the release for the door, and Ryan bounded up the stairs three at a time, trying to get to the third floor apartment before her arch-nemesis could get the door open. She managed to make it in the nick of time, and held up an official looking envelope, managing to hide her face from the peephole.
The door flew open, and a very unpleasant voice muttered, "Where do I sign?"
Ryan dropped the envelope to her side and stuck her steel-toed work boot into the doorway, smiling serenely when Cassie tried to slam the door onto it. "Temper, temper, temper," she said. "You don’t want to throw me out before you hear my offer, do you?"
The blonde backed up, frantically looking around the entryway for something to defend herself with. "Wha … wha … what do you want?"
"I want to cut your tongue out with a dull, rusty, razor blade," Ryan said, "but I’ll settle for sharing my latest creation with you." Ryan shook the envelope and dropped a floppy disk into her hand, which she then waved in front of the frightened blonde. "I think you’ll want to see what’s on this diskette."
Realizing that Ryan wasn’t intending to hurt her allowed Cassie to regain her bravado. "Why in the fuck would I be interested in anything you have to say, you bitch."
Ryan surveyed her outfit, noticing the black T-shirt with a red and white faux nametag that read, "Queen of the fucking universe", and commented, "Like the shirt. But there’s one little corner of the universe that you don’t reign over." Her eyes grew dark, and a nearly palpable menace oozed from her coiled body. "When my partner is involved."
Fixing Ryan with her own steely glare, Cassie snapped, "Wish I could stay and chat, but I don’t have all day to waste listening to you. Either leave now, or leave when the cops get here." She turned and made for the phone in the hallway and began to dial.
Ryan followed right behind her and pl
aced a photocopy of two wire transfers in front of her. "Look familiar?"
Cassie gazed at the drafts deposited to her account, each in the amount of $50,000. Each dated a short time after the tabloid stories had hit the newsstands. Dick Williams assured Ryan that only $10,000 had been withdrawn in a single personal check – and Ryan now knew where that money had gone. "So what?" Cassie asked, but put the phone down before her call was completed.
"So … I would really like it if you’d write a new check, in the amount of $90,000, made out to ‘Safe Haven.’ I wish I’d gotten here before you spent $10,000, but it took me a while to get my facts straight." Ryan could have told the woman about her encounter with Janet and Wendy, but she thought it would be more fun to let them blindside their former friend.
Ryan said this in such a matter-of-fact way that Cassie almost asked her to repeat herself. But she had clearly heard her. "Fuck off, get out, and drop dead, you bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"I," Ryan said dramatically, waving the floppy again, "am the creator of the new video game that will soon sweep the Berkeley campus. And that’s just the start," she said, her excitement growing. "I have contacts all over the world through a math bulletin board I’m on. People in universities all across the planet will soon be playing my game, and laughing their asses off." She shrugged and said, "Bad choice of words, but you’ll get the picture."
"You came over here at seven a.m. to tell me about a fucking video game?"
"Well, yeah," Ryan drawled innocently, "after all, you’re the star of the game."
Cassie grabbed two handfuls of her long blonde hair and pulled at it in frustration. "What are you talking about?"
Looking across the room, Ryan was pleased to see that Cassie’s computer was not only up and running, it was also a Mac. She strode across the room, turned briefly and asked, "May I?" then inserted the diskette before the struggling woman had the opportunity to reply. "Now, this won’t give you the full effect," Ryan said conversationally, "since I could only get the streamlined version onto a floppy. The version that I’ll be sending out has a lot more action, more color – it’s a far superior product." Ryan looked completely relaxed while she waited for the program to load. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her foot tapped rhythmically as she hummed a song to herself. "Ahh, here it is," she said. "Wanna look?"
Cassie gave her a look that questioned her sanity, so Ryan merely shrugged. "Suit yourself. Now we’re still in the beta testing phase, so we can make some modifications. You might want to be wearing a different outfit, but I think this bikini is absolutely perfect."
Unable to contain her curiosity, Cassie inched forward, slowly enabling herself to get a good look at the screen. She was stunned to see a picture of herself, clad in a red bikini – a picture she recalled from a pool party about two years earlier at her parents' house.
Ryan made a few keystrokes, and suddenly a wide variety of foods started to float around the screen. She started to grab one at a time, drag it over to the picture, and insert it into the now-gaping mouth. The cyber-Cassie started to chew noisily, the sounds crass and vulgar. "You won’t see much yet," Ryan said, "but by the fifth or sixth hot dog, your belly will start to grow. Ahh … there it goes," she said with satisfaction.
The blonde woman was too stunned to even comment. She felt all of the color drain from her face as Ryan continued to shove food into the cyber-mouth, the image of the svelte body starting to distort. Her worst nightmare was coming true right before her eyes – and she felt her stomach begin to turn.
"Now I have this set up with the summer outfit, but I have a nice winter look with a ski jacket and pants, and a formal version with you in a long black dress. Okay … here’s my favorite view," Ryan said, using the mouse to turn the image. "I think it’s gonna blow," she said with delight as an obscene ripping sound accompanied the image of the tiny bikini beginning to break apart at the seams. "That hot fudge sundae did the trick," Ryan said idly. "Works every time."
Suddenly, Ryan felt a pair of hands grasping at her shirt. She managed to turn and pry the clutching fingers off and grab Cassie’s wrists. Looking up, she saw the mask of outrage and hatred that colored the woman’s face. "What’s wrong?" Ryan asked, while Cassie tried to yank her hands away from her iron grip. "Don’t you like to be embarrassed and held up to ridicule? I assumed that people who liked to dish it out, would also like to take it."
Cassie was really struggling, but Ryan was not about to let her get in a clear shot, so she kept a tight hold on her. As expected, Cassie fought dirty, and she tried to get in a knee to the groin, but Ryan managed to twist her body to frustrate the blonde’s aim. "I’ll kill you!" Cassie cried, tears of rage and frustration rolling down her cheeks.
"You’ll do no such thing," Ryan growled. "You don’t have the guts." Ryan pushed her hard, sending her sprawling into an upholstered chair. "Not only aren’t you going to kill me, you’re going to give me $90,000."
"I’d rather die!" she sputtered.
"You’ll die, all right. You’ll die of embarrassment." Ryan pulled out one of the flyers she had designed and flung it at the blonde. A four-color photo of Cassie at her normal weight morphed into the 400-pound woman whose clothing exploded from the stress. "I’m still debating about what to call it," Ryan mused. "I’m thinking of ‘Gobble’. Do you like it?"
"You can’t get away with this!"
"Oh, sure I can. I’m distributing this for free. You could probably hire a lawyer and sue me for invasion of privacy, or something like that, but it would be very tough to find anyone who wanted to take the case. I’m sure it would cost you more than you’d ever be able to make back. Besides," she shrugged, "my goal will be met as soon as this hits the Internet. I honestly think this will be bigger than the ‘Dancing Baby’ thing from a few years ago. Once it’s out there, you can never pull it back. The damage is done." An evil grin settled onto Ryan’s face and she said, "Kinda like the damage that the tabloids do. See the connection?"
"This is blackmail!"
"Kinda," Ryan said, grinning. "You wanna go to the DA? That’s fine, too, since the game will be entered into evidence. That would be cool, since it would make the legitimate press that way."
With a massive cry of frustration, Cassie screamed, "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Is that a rhetorical question, or do you have some serious long-term memory impairment?"
"Fuck you," the blonde growled, getting up to move to the desk. "Just fuck yourself."
"You can make that comment in the memo line on the check," Ryan said. "Just remember that placing a stop on a check of this size is a felony, and the DA loves to prosecute those cases."
Cassie sat down and started to write out the check. "How do I know you’re not going to distribute the game anyway?" she muttered.
"Well, this is an alien concept to you, but I give you my word," Ryan said. "My word actually means something. As long as you keep your evil self away from Jamie, this will never get out."
Cassie wrote out the check and signed it, leaving the payee line blank. "You can fill it in, asshole." She shoved it towards Ryan, who took it from her with two fingers to avoid touching her. "You and that bitch Jamie deserve each other."
"Huh," Ryan said thoughtfully. "Who knew you were so perceptive?" Without another word, Ryan left the apartment, once again humming a happy tune.
Later that night, Jamie stood in front of Ryan’s computer, her mouth agape, eyes wide. "You created a game based on my old pictures of Cassie?"
"Yep. Pretty sweet, huh?"
Jamie sat down heavily on the bed, totally astounded. "But, Ryan, what if she sues us? You know how vindictive she is!"
"Yes, she is, but I convinced her that no matter what avenue she used to get back at me, I’d release the game. She’s far too vain to ever let that happen – no matter what." She cocked her head and said, "You’ve always said that nothing mattered more to her than how she looks – you were dead on, babe."
Jamie looked at her partner, her eyes scanning her face. "Do you feel better for having done this? Did it give you some satisfaction?"
A vaguely guilty grin crossed Ryan’s face when she admitted, "Yeah. I feel a lot better, as a matter of fact. It’s bad enough that she betrayed you, but for her to profit from it drove me absolutely nuts! I was having a hell of a time letting it go, so I started plotting ways to get revenge. I wasn’t gonna tell you this, but I know we don’t do well when we keep secrets."
"What weren’t you gonna tell me?" Jamie asked.
"Uhm … I went to your dad for advice on how to get revenge. He helped me think it through. I was gonna do the game and put up signs advertising it all over campus. Your dad is the one who showed me that we could use the game to blackmail her." Ryan looked supremely satisfied with herself. "He’s got some damned good ideas."
"Unbelievable," Jamie said, shaking her head. "I … I’m speechless."
"Well, I knew he had the contacts – why not let him use his God given talents?"
"I don’t think God had anything to do with those talents, Ryan, but if the two of you can bond by thinking up ways to blackmail people, far be it from me to discourage you."
"I think I’m finished with blackmail," Ryan said. "Once was fun, but it was enough."
Jamie picked up the cashier’s check that lay on the desk. "Did you make her go to the bank with you?"
"God no! I couldn’t have been in her company that long! She gave me a personal check and I immediately went to the bank and converted it to a cashier’s check – in case she tried to put a stop payment on it."
"What do you think Sandy will do with the money?" Jamie asked.
Ryan gave her a wide grin and said, "I stopped by before softball practice and told her about the ‘donation.’ She nearly hyperventilated. I think she’s going to buy a van so she can take the girls places as a group."
Pushing Ryan’s chair back, Jamie climbed astride her lap and gave her a hug. "You did this for me, didn’t you?"
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