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I’m not sure if the Aces will keep me or if Coach Dixon will be lobbying to get rid of me. He’s a damn good coach, and he would want the best players on his team, so I doubt he’dreallytry to get rid of me. But he doesn’t seem to like me very much right now, and I’m not sure what I can do to change his mind about that.
I’m also a little nervous he’ll change Desiree’s mind about me in the process.
She loves her father, and they’re close. I asked her once what she’d do if he chose to write her off, and she didn’t think it would come to that.
But I saw how he was last night when I came over. I can wish and hope all I want that Sue will be able to get him on our side, but wishes and hopes can end up being pretty damn empty compared to reality.
That’s the cynic in me speaking—the side I inherited from Eddie Nash, next on the list of people to confront tonight.
He’s watching his western when I walk in, and he doesn’t pause the show until I’m standing in front of him.
“What did Coach want to talk to you about?” he grunts.
“Jesus, you’re clueless,” I mutter.
“Excuse me?” he asks, putting the recliner of his chair down but not standing. “What did you just say to me?”
“The woman I got pregnant is his daughter.”
His eyes light up at that, and not because of anything less than a nefarious reason. “Oh, she’s the billionaire heiress, isn’t she? Good score, kid.”
“Good score?Good score? That’s what you have to say to me?”
“Sure. You’ll both be set for life. Not a bad way to do it. Wish I’d thought of it, to be honest. Your Grandma and Grandpa Roberts were decently well-off, but they had four kids to split their money between, and most of that, as you know, went to the bar.” He shrugs. “I tried. I failed. But look at you, doing the Lord’s work.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You think I got her pregnant on purpose to take a shot at her fortune?” I ask.
“Well…yeah. Didn’t you?”
I stare at him, totally dumbfounded that he wouldeverthink that of me.
He thinks I’m like him…and that tells me he doesn’t know a damn thing about me.
I walk out of the room totally disgusted that he’d make that insinuation, and when I get to my bedroom, I start to pack in earnest.
I haven’t asked her yet.
I don’t know where we’ll go.
But I know I can’t stay here any longer.
My phone starts to ring, and I glance at the clock. It’s after ten, and my first thought is,what if something’s wrong with the baby?
It’s just Lincoln calling, so that fear is immediately alleviated as another one steps into its place.
“What’s going on, Brochacho?” I answer brightly.
“Don’t Brochacho me,” he hisses. “I told you we needed to talk.”
“Coach Dixon gave me extra leg drills, and you weren’t in your office when I stopped by. What can I do for you?” My tone is light.
His is not.
“Desiree Dixon?” he demands.
I exhale a long, heavy breath. “You know?”
“Yes, I know. Don’t you know the unwritten rule about staying away from any family members of coaches or teammates?” he demands.
