Viv tried to laugh. And failed. “By the time this game’s over, she’ll be on a plane to Paris.”
Trent’s jaw dropped. His heart splatted on the court at his feet.
“Didn’t she tell you? Lucky bitch. She’s pursuing her dream in Paris.” Viv’s gaze grew distant. “Men know how to treat a woman in Paris.”
Without realizing it, Trent started moving toward the exit.
“Where are you going?” Randy caught up to him in the tunnel to the locker rooms.
Trent turned around, each breath a struggle. The NBA was his dream. A once in a lifetime shot. But so was a chance at true love. He glanced toward the exit, and then back to the court. He said simply, “It’s Cora.”
Archie stepped into the tunnel. Their gazes connected. As if reading his mind, his father nodded.
Trent made to leave, but paused. “Randy, when you’re 100%, I want you to try out for a spot on the team.”
Randy’s mouth worked into a smile. He’d grown to appreciate coaching, but he wouldn’t be happy without a shot at his dream. If he had the skills, Trent owed him a chance.
“If you go after Cora…” Vivian stopped at the tunnel entrance, panting. “If you leave, you’re fired!”
“Can’t you see the man has the flu?” Archie dragged Viv with him toward the court. “Have you met my wife? I think you’ll like her.”
Trent turned his back on the game and started to run.
~*~
Where was the damn limo?
If it didn’t get here soon, she’d miss her flight.
Cora’s condo was quiet. No siblings. No Brutus. She opened the bedroom window facing the street, welcoming the noise of passing cars. She turned on the television. Of course, the Flash was playing.
Cora sank onto the bed. She hadn’t said goodbye to the team. She hadn’t reinforced their belief in themselves – Ren’s wondrous three-pointer, Jablone’s dunk, Antoine’s jumper. She wouldn’t be there to support them if their confidence stumbled, if they fell prey to the hype that was the Lakers. All because she’d decided to hide in her pink room, then in Paris.
“The Flash is looking good, Pablo. This is a team out to prove they’re a contender.”
Someone knocked on the door. Finally, the limo had arrived.
“Come in,” she called. She couldn’t see the screen past her tears. “My bag’s in the hallway.”
“Amazingly, Brock, they look good even without head coach Trent Parker.”
Cora’s head came up. “Impossible.”
The camera panned the bench. Sure enough. No Trent.
“I thought I told you impossible is nothing.” It took a moment to register the male voice wasn’t that of a limo driver. “You’re leaving me?”
She turned, her heart thudding with hope and consternation. She wasn’t dreaming. It was Trent, looking classically handsome in the suit and tie she’d helped him pick out. “Are you crazy? You should be coaching right now.”
Whistles blew. Bodies crowded beneath the Flash basket.
“Deshawn Higby just swept the legs out from under Evan Oliver,” the announcer said. “He looks shaken up.”
The Flash players and coaching staff stormed the court, ready to defend their captain.
“Do you see?” Cora turned to Trent, jabbing her finger at the screen. “Technical fouls for emptying the bench. They’ve just blown your lead.”
He didn’t take his eyes off her. “A good fight shakes off preseason tension.”
He was nuts. She returned her attention to the screen.
“I heard you say once that we each choose our own path and how difficult it’s going to be.” He sat down next to her on the pink bedspread, hip flush against hers. “Why do you have to make things so difficult for yourself, Cora?”
“Nothing has ever been easy for me.” She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t acknowledge his heat or his strength. To do so would weaken her. She stared at the screen, willing Evan to get up. “And because I’m a – ”
“Don’t say it. Don’t ever call yourself that again.”
Somewhere deep in her chest, a knot loosened. “What about whore?”
Ren helped Evan to his feet. Her brother-in-law limped off the court.
“That doesn’t describe you either.” Trent draped his arm over her shoulders and sighed, tucking her close to him. She didn’t resist because this might be the last few minutes she spent in his arms. “I’m a Southern ass, too proud by half and too busy looking to the future, instead of enjoying what’s standing next to me. I guess I have more in common with Jack than I thought.”
Cora wouldn’t admit it later, but she wiped her eyes on his shirt. “You’re ruining your career.”
“I know, baby.”
“I’m leaving for Paris.”
“To make sexy clothes for Aloysha?”
She nodded.
“I know it’s a dream of yours, sugar, but I don’t think Paris is where you’re meant to be.”
“You son-of-a-bitch.” She tried to push out of his arms.
“Listen up.” He held on tight, despite her efforts. “Everyone should have more than one dream. Growing up, I wanted to play in the NBA and the NFL and be an astronaut. Just because I haven’t been called upon to fly into space doesn’t mean I won’t someday. Now’s the time for me and the NBA.”
She stilled. Two dreams. One of fashion, made in her childhood. Another of life coaching, made as an adult.
“I was thinking,” he continued quietly. “That the world would be a better place with you as one of its life coaches. Or maybe the Flash’s sports psychologist.”
“I can’t work for the Flash.” She looked at him. “I slept with – ”
“Shh.” He pressed a light kiss on her lips. “Nobody cares about that.”
“Like hell.”
“I believe in you, sugar. You got over your past with Jack a long time ago. Otherwise, you couldn’t have worked with the guy.” He set her away from him so he could see her face. He wasn’t smiling. “Don’t go to Paris.”
Not I love you. Not I can’t live without you. He was treating her like a possession again.
She shook her head. “There’s nothing here for me.”
“There’s Brutus. And a basketball team full of head-cases. And me. Most of all, there’s me.” He squeezed her hands. “When I came here, I didn’t want anything to do with cult-like organizations that only saw their rules as the right ones. You showed me that good people can help others without too many rules or milking clients for every last cent of their worth. Maybe your methods can be unorthodox, but you renewed my faith in me when I needed it most.”
“You always had faith in yourself.”
He brushed his thumb over her lips. “No, sugar. I had faith in the Reverend.”
She loved being in his arms, but love didn’t last. All it would take was a few reminders of her past and Trent would come to his senses. She could make this easier on him and get him back to the game before the second half. “Nothing’s changed, Trent. This may not seem like a small town, but it is. I have a past.” One he didn’t approve of. “And that picture with Cal? I didn’t see it coming. I take too many risks and I don’t always say or do things in a politically correct way. I’m not the paragon of virtue the Reverend needs.”
“Forget the Reverend!” he roared. “I love you, Cora. Me. The hardass and the stuffed shirt. The Reverend, who can’t see life past basketball. And the man who doesn’t want to see a future that doesn’t have you in it.”
Cora’s spirits lifted. Her heart soared. He loved her. “Somewhere in that rant there was a very important statement. You may have to repeat it, because I’m having a hard time believing.” No man had ever told her that before.
“I love you, woman.” So much passion. She had to believe him. “Would I be here instead of there – ” He thrust a hand in the general direction of the television. “ – if I didn’t?”
She could barely ask, barely speak above a whisper
. “You really forgive me for my past?”
He shook his head, sweeping hope aside. “I can’t forgive your past.”
Her heart felt as if it might shatter.
His thumbs traced her cheekbones, wiping away the vestige of her earlier tears. “Only you can forgive yourself. I can only accept you and love you for who you are today.” He kissed her. Deeply, passionately, and with the promise of a love that no longer scared her. He only paused for an apology. “I hurt you when I chose appearances over substance. I’m sorry. I’m a slow learner.” He reached for something at his feet. “Now, I know you think of yourself as Skipper, but I don’t.”
Cora laughed. He’d brought her a Barbie doll in a sexy evening gown and G.I. Joe in full battle gear. She did so love this man, because he recognized and loved her for who she really was and who she wanted to be.
“I should have listened more closely to what Evan was trying to tell me all this time.” He looked at her the same way Evan had looked at Amber after Jack’s party – love, laced with desire. “Sometimes to love a Rule, you’ve got to break the rules of convention.”
On television, the crowd was going wild. Cora drew back and turned up the volume.
“I just professed my love to you, probably at the cost of my career, and you want to watch basketball?”
She muted the sound. “Trent Parker, you are the man I’ve been waiting for my whole life. Of course, I love you, but you’ve got to work on your timing.” She turned the volume back on.
“…would never have believed that a seven-footer could shoot like that. That’s the seventh three-pointer Ren Du has sunk. The Lakers are calling a time-out. It’s the Flash, up by fifteen.”
“Shit,” Trent said, awestruck. “The new offense worked.”
Setting Barbie and G.I. Joe aside on the bed, Cora climbed into Trent’s lap. “What excuse did you make to miss the game?
“Archie told everyone I had the flu.”
“The flu…I heard that can really tire you out.” She started unwrapping his tie. “You may have to stay in bed for days.”
Outside, a horn honked. It wasn’t Luck, rubbing Cora’s nose in her impossible situations. It was the limo driver.
Cora drew back. “How would you like to go with me?”
Trent blinked. “To Paris? Now?”
“No.” She was already extricating herself from his lap. “To the game. If we hurry, we can make the second half.”
He grabbed her hand. Together they ran downstairs to the limo.
Leaving Barbie and G.I. Joe alone in that big pink bed.
L.A. Happenings by Lyle Lincoln
…I told you the Flash was full of more drama than any other NBA team. They beat the Lakers and Coach Parker proposed to Cora Rule after the game. If that wasn’t enough juice for you, rumor has it that Glitterfrost Gem attended without her bestie, Mimi Sorbet.
…Sadly, we’re hearing the final bell toll on the marriage of Jack and Vivian Gordon. At least, that’s what the press release says. But I’ve heard…
Epilogue
Cora hurried down the hallway of the Flash training facilities, more nervous than Kylie Jenner at her first modeling gig. Only Cora didn’t have Kris Kardashian giving her a pep talk.
It was just Cora who was in charge of her fate, rather than letting fate and luck rule her.
Will this change things?
Her steps faltered.
Of course, it will change things.
She slid a hand over the belt at her waist. Tricky things, belts. They slid out of place or bunched up your blouse. Cora wanted to look good when she delivered the news to Trent.
Her heels clicked and echoed as she forced herself to walk, not run. He was so focused on the team. This put a wrench in his plans.
A door at the end of the hallway opened. Evan entered, carrying a basketball, dripping sweat. “Hey, Cora. You and Trent want to come over for dinner tonight?”
Cora stopped in front of Trent’s office. Someone was inside with him, seated in the visitor’s chair, back to the window. “I don’t know. Maybe?” Where was her confidence? Her fire? Her decisiveness? “I don’t think so.”
Evan stopped in front of her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m…” She glanced into Trent’s office, but he was exhibiting his best Southern manners today and giving his full attention to his visitor. “Distracted.” She fiddled with her belt again. That had to stop. “Too much going on up here.” Cora tapped her temple. “You know how that goes. Thought comes in. Squirrel! Thought drifts away.”
“I will never understand you Rule women.” Evan kissed the top of her head. “But I love you anyway.” He headed toward the showers.
“Amber’s lucky she saw you first,” Cora teased, knowing full well he wasn’t the man for her. Trent was. But this…This was a test of the unconditional love between them.
Trent opened his office door. He still had the power to make her melt with just his smile. “We haven’t been married long enough for you to hit on one of my players.”
“Hitting on Evan doesn’t count.”
“Everything counts.” His eyes flashed with heat that said she’d pay for that comment later (bring it, big man). He held out his hand. “Come inside. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
His fingers were warm around hers. Cora’s nerves settled. She drew a deep breath.
Things will change. But we can handle it.
“Dr. Rambis. I’d like you to meet my wife, Cora Rule Parker.”
The man stood. He was tall, close to seven feet. He dressed like a college professor – cheap blazer, wrinkled khakis, stain on his checked shirt. Shaved like one, too. He’d missed some graying whiskers beneath his right chin.
“Cora, Dr. Rambis is here to offer his services as the team’s sports psychologist.” Trent’s voice was dead-on serious.
Her lungs suddenly felt as if they’d been filled with hardening glue. She struggled to draw a breath.
Without realizing how, her hand was swallowed by the good doctor’s and pumped too hard.
“Nice to meet you.” Dr. Rambis laughed, a donkey-like disaster – her-haw, her-haw. “You’ve done a great job taking the team as far as you have. The both of you.”
The old Cora, the one who was bitter and caustic and vengeful, raised her gaze to Dr. Rambis. He wanted her job? He wanted to belittle what Trent had done with the team? Cora moved to lean on the credenza, searching for weaknesses, planning her attack. Knowing she’d do nothing but sit quietly on the sidelines.
Her news was going to break them. Their love would shatter like a mirror that fell off a too-small nail. In anticipation of that fall, Cora’s heart began to crack.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Dr. Rambis was saying, gathering his briefcase. Even that was uncool. It was an old leather briefcase, not a messenger bag. “Nice meeting you.”
Chest feeling empty and hollow, Cora fiddled with her belt, and watched her husband close his office door.
Don’t let this be the end.
Trent turned, chuckling softly.
“What’s s-so funny?” She’d meant for the words to come out with heat, but she sounded like she’d developed a stutter and taken a hit of helium.
“Life is full of irony.” Trent had that slow Southern smile on his face, the one she loved, the one that made it challenging to be the old, hard Cora.
Jack burst in without knocking. “Well?” He looked at Trent. “Was I right?”
Trent nodded.
“So you’re hiring Dr. Rambis.” Cora swallowed her disappointment and pride. It went down like a lump of dry chewing gum. “And firing me.”
“Huh?” A dual chorus from the men who ran the Flash.
“You think I’d hire that guy?” Jack grinned.
“You think I’d let that guy work with my team?” Trent pulled Cora into the circle of his arms. “He came highly recommended from the commissioner’s office.”
“They don’t like
the way I run things. Hiring the Rules and breaking the Rules.” The Flash owner puffed out his chest and turned to go, tossing over his shoulder, “I got more fines from the NBA this year than Mark Cuban. Screw the commissioner!”
“But we couldn’t just blow Dr. Rambis and the commissioner off.” Trent smoothed her hair. “We had to take a meeting. We’re happy with the way things are.”
Cora drew a deep breath. “I’m about to change things.”
Trent held her away from him. “In what way.”
“I…uh…” The longing and the want and the way she’d kept things secret from him for months bumbled around in the way of her words. Just say it. Cora cleared her throat. “I got accepted in to the UCLA Sports Psychology program.”
“Sugar…”
Cora knew how important keeping the team in balance was to Trent. “I’m not quitting the Flash,” she rushed on. “But I really, really want this. It’s going to be hard, but I’m ready. Or I will be with a flexible work schedule.” She wasn’t explaining this well. Trent was all about the schedule and keeping to it. “I can do my homework on the plane or at the hotel when I’m not having player sessions. I’ll put in long days. I won’t let anyone down. I…I…” Cora was finally able to put her babble button on pause. She fingered her belt. “Say something.”
His whiskey-brown eyes turned as soft as the way he kissed her every morning. “I’m so proud of you.” His hands settled on her waist, and he swept her off her feet, spinning her around twice before setting her back down. “This will change things, but we can do it.”
“Do you mean it?” She loved this man more than she’d ever loved anyone or anything, more than really great shoes, or a clearance sale at Barney’s.
“I love you, sugar.” Trent cradled her face in his hands. “And I fell in love with you because you always reach for the stars. I’d be honored to help you catch one.”
Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015 Page 32