Fast Courting by Barbara Delinsky

more games apiece. What I have done is reorganize the offense. It’s working out well.” He looked up more hopefully. “I’ve brought Rockowski in as back-up center. He’s a bruiser, can hold his own and pass it around. Flagg is also on the court longer, with Barnes out. He’s young, but his game matures with each outing.” Pausing, he chuckled softly, then shook his head.
    Nia smiled. “What is it?”
    “They call him ‘Sandman’—Johnny Flagg. He’s super laid-back and relaxed. Sleeps just about anywhere. Everywhere.”
    Her gaze grew suspicious. “And what do they call ‘the bruiser’?”
    Daniel’s smile was a broad one. “Rocky…”
    “That’s what I thought.” She turned to unwrap the steak and flip on the broiler before unveiling the surf side of the impromptu feast.
    “Lobster?” Daniel’s eyes lit up. “Boy, you literary types sure know how to feed a guy.”
    “This was my lobster, I’ll have you know. I shopped for it in the rain, no less, as a special treat.”
    “Hard day at work?”
    With a grimace, she recalled a major source of her frustration. He stood right beside her now. “Fair.”
    “What are you working on?”
    “Oh, no, Daniel Strahan. You haven’t finished what you were saying.”
    “What was I saying?” He reached to help Nia remove the broiler pan from the upper oven. As she lined it with foil, he glanced around. “Would you like me to make a salad?”
    “A salad? Think you’re up to it?”
    “I make a good salad,” he scolded playfully.
    She grinned. “Then, go to it.” She presented him with a large bowl. “Everything you’ll need is in there,” she informed him, pointing to the refrigerator before turning to slice the thick lobster tails.
    “Have you lived here long?” he asked, his voice muffled behind the refrigerator door. She could just imagine his wise grin and it made her that much more determined not to be sidetracked.
    “What else bothers you?” she asked firmly.
    “Bothers me?”
    “About…your job.”
    “Oh.” He paused. “I thought it made you uncomfortable to talk about basketball.”
    “It does, in a way. But that all had to do with David. Now I’m curious about you. I’ve told you all about my marriage; the least you can do is to tell me about your work.”
    Nia was unprepared for his darkening. “Is this for the record?”
    “You mean, for the piece I’ve got to write?”
    He dipped his head in the affirmative. Before her very eyes, she saw the mask begin to descend.
    “No, this is not for the record. In the first place, you haven’t agreed to my interview. In the second place, I don’t want to do the damn thing, anyway!”
    The mask receded. “Whew. That’s that, I guess,” he mocked her vehemence. “Well, then, what do you want to know?”
    “Those other frustrations. What are they?”
    Daniel spoke as he emptied her refrigerator of every possible salad fixing. “I’ve already mentioned the traveling and the injuries. Then there are the fans. Not only can they be fickle, but they can be downright demoralizing.”
    “How so?” she asked, puzzled. “I would think they’d just roll off your backs.”
    “Let me tell you, ma’am—when a twelve-year-old kid looks you in the eye from his seat overlooking the tunnel and tells you what a so-and-so you were for not beating the such-and-such out of your opponent, it’s demoralizing. Or when you’re in the middle of the fourth quarter and the back-up you put in blows one shot after the next—and the fan in the tenth row announces that you were an absolute imbecile for putting the guy in in the first place. Little things like that.”
    “I’m sure you must get used to some of it.”
    “You turn it off, yes. But it does have a way of sneaking through every once in a while. When the team’s winning you can thumb your nose at just about any fan. When you lose, even if it’s only by a point, then it’s not as easy. That’s why I try to take it all with a grain of