Then the waiting began. She hadn’t told Daniel she’d be there, had been purposely vague about the details of her trip when she’d last spoken to him on Wednesday night. There was the fear in the back of her mind that he would be offended, even angry to learn that she had made her own reservations at the same motel in which the Breakers were staying. She had even coordinated her flight back early Saturday morning to mesh with that of the team. He could be furious. Had she done the right thing?
She waited until eleven o’clock, then called Dan’s room every ten minutes. It was eleven-thirty before there was finally an answer. As it had each time she’d dialed the extension, her heart raced. Now, at the sound of the deep, familiar, though clearly exhausted voice, it gave an added jump.
“Yes?” The team had won, yet he sounded defeated.
“Dan… ?” she began unsurely.
His voice picked up instantly, showering her with pleasure. “Nia! I just called your house! Where are you?”
“Uh…” she smiled with timidity at the moment of truth, “would you believe two floors above you?”
“Here? In Phillie?” He did sound pleased!
“Uh-huh.” Her heart beat even faster.
“But I thought you were flying back to Boston late this afternoon.”
“I had originally thought I might. But …I changed my mind. I thought it might be kind of fun…to be here tonight. I’m flying home tomorrow.”
“You did!” he exclaimed as though celebrating a private victory. The smile on his face came clearly over the line.
“Should I…could I…come down?” This was the hardest part; what did they do now?
“No!” No? “Stay there! I’m coming up. What’s your room number?”
She had no sooner hung up the phone and wiped the foolish grin from her face than his impatient knock shook the door. The grin reappeared and was returned in kind when she pulled the door open and stood looking at Daniel. He looked great! Tall…handsome…yes, tired…but happy. When he took her into his arms and held her she felt positively complete. Every bit of her anticipatory worry was forgotten amid the beauty of this moment.
“You are a sight for sore eyes,” he moaned, kissing her gently, then with mushrooming hunger.
“So are you,” she managed to gasp when he finally released her lips.
He kissed her again, compensating for the week’s abstinence. Nia savored the flavor of him, as she always did. His scent was uniquely Daniel, his body likewise. He was her home away from home and she was in no rush to leave. Indeed, had he stripped her naked and made fierce, forceful love to her, she would have clung to him ecstatically.
But he didn’t. He was a model of phenomenal self-control. As a coach, he was able to internalize his emotional involvement for the sake of his team, regardless of the effect that rigid control had on him. As a man, his determination was apparently no less strong. For whatever reasons, he had decided against taking his relationship with Nia beyond the point of no return. Now he moved her away from him.
“Let’s get out of here, babe, while I still have the willpower. I want to hear all about your trip.” He paused, his eyes pouring out his appreciation of her. “God, it’s good to see you here!”
The next few hours were spent in a small all-night eatery not far from the motel. It was far from elegant, far from immaculate, far from atmospheric, but there was nowhere else Nia would rather have been and no one else she would rather have been with.
She told Daniel about her sojourn among the Amish folk, those people who believed in separation from the world and neither swore, nor waged war, nor partied in politics. She had seen them working their farms with horses and plows, traveling their roads with horses and buggies. She had been in homes that boasted neither electricity nor telephone lines. She had seen bearded men with their wide-brimmed hats, bonneted women with their plain, long dresses and children who were black-garbed miniatures of their elders. She had spent time talking with those who were willing to open up to her, listening with fascination to their pure, clean, gentle speech. The simplicity of their lives was the antithesis of her own, though she wouldn’t have traded with them for the world.
Daniel, in turn, was easily coaxed into talking of the road trip, of a loss in New York, of wins in New Jersey the night before and again that night in Philadelphia. He spoke of the movie he had seen two nights before, of the reading he had done during an idle spell. The latter was an article from a psychology journal that presented the results of a new study on psychosomatic illness. They discussed it at length, with Nia offering her opinions to counter Daniel’s more professional ones.
It was nearly three in the morning when Daniel walked her back to her room. There she turned to face him, her eyes offering the silent invitation she couldn’t quite speak aloud. Daniel had no such qualms, however, despite the subtle tension in his jaw.
“No, babe. Not yet. You don’t really want that kind of involvement any more than I do.” He lifted his large fingers to gently stroke her cheek. “This has meant so much to me. Let’s be noble for a little while longer.”
Nia stared silently at him, knowing that what he said was right, though wondering why he was such a gentleman and half-wishing he were not.
With an unsteady breath, Daniel went on. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning to wake you up. Breakfast is at 8:00. OK?”
“You eat as a team?” she whispered with a hint of apprehension, wondering if she were to be suddenly popped on the Breakers …or vice versa. Daniel had neither in mind.
“We eat as a team, you and I,” he qualified in a soft voice. “Any other questions?”
“Just one,” she began hesitantly, but had to know. “Are you at all…annoyed…that I showed up here?” Every aspect of his behavior had indicated the opposite, yet it deeply mattered to her to hear him say so.
In answer he captured her lips a final, punishing time. “Yes,” he growled, “I am annoyed. I’m going to have an even harder time sleeping alone tonight.”
“Then…why… ?” she burst out before she could help herself.
“Because I don’t want to feel guilty afterward,” he rejoined, tension and frustration colliding in his blunt response. “And that’s all I intend to say on the matter. Now, will you go in and go to bed?”
“Yes, Dan.” She smiled and shook her head in admiration. “Good night.”
“Good night, babe.”
Her reflections soon gave way to sweet dreams of what had been that night and what might have been had Daniel belonged to a different world. Suppose he had a “steady” job, one that allowed him a wife, a home, a family. Suppose he had not been involved with pro basketball—but then he would not be the Daniel Strahan she loved. No, not loved, she assured herself. Liked. Appreciated. Maybe even idolized. But loved? Not again. Not so quickly. And certainly not a basketball man! No, she had been through the inferno once; now she was shy of the flames. Daniel was right; he was right! Much as she ached for it, physical involvement would only complicate things for them both. And that she didn’t want, particularly with the deposition-taking around the corner and approaching fast.
True to his word, Daniel woke her from sleep the next morning with a low, husky-voiced hello. They met in the coffee shop for breakfast, then later at the airport, to which Dan had had to travel with his team, if for no other reason than to make sure they all made it. For the first time he was grateful that only the players traveled first class, leaving the coach, assistant coaches, and other team personnel to fly economy. It gave Nia and Dan that much more time together, though the flight to Boston was regrettably brief. Only once was their quiet company broken—by the very man who had the knack of doing just that, Harlan McKay. The team owner accepted an introduction to Nia in a distinctly bothered manner. In turn, Nia’s response was instinctively wary.
“Don’t mind him,” Daniel reassured her when they were alone once again. “I think he’s jealous.”
“Of what?” she clipped back, having been hu
rt by Harlan’s brusqueness.
“Of you, babe. I’ve been putting him off in favor of you lately. It’ll take him a little time to adjust, but he’ll come around. You’ll see.” She couldn’t quite see, but neither did she care at that moment, for Daniel brushed a light kiss on her lips, making her forget all else. Harlan McKay’s scowl as he saw them was missed by them both.
Indeed, Daniel seemed bent on protecting Nia, on keeping her mind averted from any unpleasantness, be it Harlan’s strange jealousy or the upcoming deposition. He spent most of the weekend with her, leaving her only to attend a short meeting and practice on Saturday and then, of course, the game against Detroit on Sunday afternoon. During those times Nia worked at his house, not through any reluctance to see either the practice or the game, but rather because of the sheer necessity of doing her own work. Saturday she reviewed the notes she’d taken on her trip, organizing them while they were still fresh in her mind, writing several preliminary passages for her article. Sunday she reviewed the files on the Mahoney case, which she had taken home from the office before she’d left for Pennsylvania. It was imperative that she be sure of her facts, facts concerning the gathering of her background information, the verification of that information, her attempts to personally interview Jimmy Mahoney—to no avail—and the actual writing of the article. Daniel could spare her vexation only so far; beyond that she was on her own. Though he was a marvelous source of both encouragement and distraction, she was tense nonetheless when he finally took her home on Sunday night.
“Everything will be fine,” he assured her, imparting his strength to her through his arms, his entire body. “Will you give me a call when it’s over? We’re playing Golden State tomorrow night, but I should be home until 4:45.”
“I’ll call,” she agreed readily, wishing that he could be by her side during the ordeal. But that was not the nature of their relationship. It was not his responsibility. She was only grateful that he was there on the sidelines, her very good friend who often seemed like so, so much more….
Though she had expected the worst, the deposition was a relatively mild ordeal. It was held in the office of Jimmy Mahoney’s personal attorney, with Nia, Bill, Bruce McHale and the counsel for Eastern Edge in attendance. It consisted of each of the co-defendants being questioned by the plaintiff’s attorney, their responses duly recorded by a stenographer. It took no more than two hours. By noon Nia was back at her desk.
“I told you it wouldn’t be all that bad,” Daniel chided her, having picked up the phone after one short ring.
“It really was surprisingly civil,” she returned, amazed that it had been so and much more relaxed now, having heard Daniel’s deep voice. “But I hope it wasn’t deceptive. He could really lash out now. You can never tell with these political animals.”
“Come on, Antonia, don’t ask for trouble. For all you know it might fade into nothing. It’s always possible that, having taken your deposition, his attorney will advise against the proceedings. After all, there was no malice of intent.”
“I know that and you know that, but Jimmy Mahoney may try to prove otherwise.”
“Well,” he sighed, “there’s no point in worrying about that now. Austen and McHale are right in there with you. They’ll let you know what’s happening.” He paused. “Are you still planning to go to Vermont tomorrow?”
With a deep breath, Nia allowed the shift of subject. “Yup. Reiss is expecting me by eleven. I’ve already done some of the preliminary research on him, and I’ll do a little more this afternoon. With a three-hour drive each way, I’m not eager to make the trip more than once if I can help it.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind the driving? I don’t like the idea of you alone in a car for six hours.”
“Look at it this way,” she teased him softly, “if I’m alone I can’t get into any trouble.”
“Nia, you know what I’m talking about.”
“I know, Dan. And, believe me, I do appreciate it.” It had been a long time since anyone had worried about her. But as gratifying as the thought was, it was also frightening. To grow dependent on such concern only to have it withdrawn…Her eyes clouded momentarily, then cleared. “I’ll be OK. I’ve got towing coverage in case the car gives me any trouble. And the trip will be broken up for those few hours in the middle.”
“You’ll come directly here on the way back?”
They had already discussed the possibility, though at the time Nia had only said she’d consider it.
“I will,” she agreed, knowing she was getting in deeper but unable to stop herself. She was already looking forward to seeing him. Tomorrow evening seemed like such a long way off. “I may not be there until six. Is that OK?”
“I’ll be here,” he growled in mock scolding.
Not only was he there when she returned, slightly exhausted, from her interview with Thomas Reiss on Tuesday, but he was at her office to take her to lunch on Wednesday, and there again on Thursday evening to pick her up from work. They seemed to be very comfortably falling into a pattern that worked around both their schedules. When he had an evening game they met for lunch; when his evening was free, they had dinner and spent the hours together.
For Nia these days and evenings were filled with warmth and pleasure. Her time away from Daniel seemed to fly because of the knowledge that she would be seeing him soon. The only damper on her pleasure was the purely physical strain she had begun to feel. Daniel had become her closest friend; gradually, that ceased to be enough. In utter contradiction to everything she had thought she believed such a few short weeks ago, she wanted to be with him constantly, as a friend and, she finally admitted to herself, as a lover.
Her thoughts were filled with him—his lean length, his dark good looks, his thoroughly masculine aura. She dreamed of him at night, imagining the solid feel of his flesh beside hers, yearning for the richness of him even more intimately. She daydreamed of him at work, feeling foolish when her cheeks grew warm and her pulse raced, ostensibly over some dry piece she had been assigned to edit.
If Daniel suffered similar frustrations she didn’t know it. He insisted on returning her home each night with a kiss—sometimes soft, sometimes more fierce, sometimes nearly explosive with passion—but it went no further. In her heart Nia knew something had to give. It was a hopeless situation, one doomed by incompatible lifestyles. Fool that she was, she did love him. And she knew of only one additional way to express that love—and he seemed dead set against it.
It was in light of her newly emergent feelings that her trip to Connecticut on Friday was positively tedious. Oh, it was an easy two-hour drive to Hartford and the interview with the Honorable Jonathan Trent went as smoothly as she might have hoped. He was a pleasantly charming, good-looking man—but she found that she couldn’t muster up an ounce of personal interest. Her thoughts were all on Daniel. She spent four hours—two each way— brooding on what was to come of their relationship. She wanted to be with him constantly. Hers was an emotional hunger that seemed insatiable. How could she handle this? How could she continue to spend this time with Daniel on a purely platonic level? Granted, there were those kisses, the occasional deeper embrace, even a momentary loss of control—until Daniel regained equilibrium again. Always Daniel. Perhaps his feelings for her were quite different from hers for him. Perhaps they weren’t even half as deep. Hadn’t he once said that he didn’t want to feel guilty after making love to her? That seemed to imply a fear of “using” her. Evidently he was far from being in love himself.
When Nia drove up his long drive on Friday evening and let herself into his house with the key he had given her the night before, she had no way of anticipating what was to come. He was at the arena now; she would watch the game on his television set, then wait for his return.
With a luxury that his presence would not have afforded, she wandered from room to room. Its openness gave her a sense of freedom, even as its every niche was crammed with Daniel. She recalled him as he’d sat one day
at his desk, a vee-neck sweater over his bare chest, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. She had touched that vee with its warm mat of hair and had traced the tendons of those forearms. She wandered to his bedroom, his bedroom, with its velour-covered oversized bed, and conjured up images of him sprawled atop it—dressed, partially dressed, then finally with nothing at all as cover save that with which he had been born.
How could she have fallen in love after all that she’d been through once? But as many times as she asked herself the question, the fact remained that she did love Daniel. He affected every aspect of her life and she found herself affected by every aspect of his.
He, too, had been more tense of late. With the end of the regular season only two-and-a-half weeks away it was inevitable that he should brood about its outcome. The Breakers had just about clinched their playoff spot; another two wins would do it. It seemed inevitable—yet he had every right to uneasiness. Granted, there was money at stake. More importantly, there was his job. And, of course, there was his pride—and the joy he derived from the game. She had never been able to deny that—she never would. Indeed, she couldn’t even deny the pleasure she felt at his joy—be it in basketball or anything else in life.
With this blunt reminder she helped herself to a snack and switched on the game to watch the Breakers soundly defeat the Bucks for one of those two crucial wins. The jubilation on the floor and from the broadcasting booth was shared by Nia—the very last thing she would have expected to feel three weeks ago. Then she would never have been interested even in the fact of the win, much less have watched its accomplishment with wide violet eyes. How things had changed!
By the time Daniel returned Nia had prepared a feast to honor both the victory and the victor who had engineered it. She had no way of knowing that Daniel’s pleasure was only in part related to the win, that her presence in his home had made that win nearly incidental to the delight of returning to a brightly lit place brimming with the warm scent of veal parmesan à la Antonia.
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