It Had to Be You (Chicago Stars #1)(35)

Dan’s instincts for danger were as well developed as a battle-hardened soldier’s, and the hair on the back of his neck prickled.

“How do you mean?” he said carefully.

“Women can be quite demanding.”

“I suppose I never thought of you as that much of a hound with the ladies.”

“I do all right.” He threw down his cigarette and ground it out beneath his shoe. “I’ve got to go. Good luck with Phoebe. She’s a real wildcat, and you’re going to have your work cut out for you.”

Dan had heard enough. Lashing out his arm, he caught Ronald by the shoulder, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Cut out the cute stuff. What the hell’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Phoebe.”

“She’s an unusual lady.”

“What have you told her about the candidates for the GM job?”

Despite the grip Dan had on him, Ronald’s gaze was steady and disconcertingly confident. “I’ll tell you what I haven’t told her. I haven’t told her Andy Carruthers is the best man for the job.”

“You know he is.”

“Not if he can’t handle Phoebe.”

Dan slowly released him, and his voice was dangerously quiet. “Exactly what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying I’ve got your butt in a sling, Dan, because right now the only person she trusts who knows a damned thing about football is me. And I got fired.”

“You deserved to be fired! You weren’t doing your job.”

“I got her to sign those contracts the first day, didn’t I? From what I hear, nobody else has been able to do that much.”

“You had time after Bert died to prove yourself, and you blew it. Nothing got done.”

“I didn’t have the authority to act because Phoebe wasn’t returning my phone calls.” He lit a fresh cigarette and had the nerve to smile. “But I’ll guarantee she returns them now.”

Dan’s temper ignited, and he grabbed a fistful of Ronald’s fancy European lapels. “You son of a bitch. You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?”

He had to give the kid credit. His complexion went a little pale, but he held his ground. “That’s none of your business.”

“No more games. What are you after?”

“You’re not stupid, Dan. Figure it out for yourself.”

“You’re not getting your job back.”

“Then you’re in big trouble because Phoebe won’t do anything unless I tell her to.”

Dan clenched his teeth. “I ought to beat the shit out of you.”

Ronald swallowed hard. “I don’t think she’d like that. She’s crazy about my face.”

Dan thought furiously, but he could only come to one conclusion. Ronald had him pinned behind the line of scrimmage and nobody was open. It went against his grain to fall on the ball, but he didn’t seem to have a choice. Gradually, he let go of the kid’s shirt. “All right, you’ve got your job back for now. But you’d better control her or I’ll have your ass hanging inside out from the yard markers. Do you understand me?”

Ronald flicked his cigarette away and then lifted the collar of his sport coat with his thumbs. “I’ll think about it.”

Dumbfounded, Dan watched him walk away.

By the time Ronald reached his car, he had sweated right through his jacket. Dan! He’d called the coach Dan and he was still alive. Oh, God. Oh, Lord.

Between the cigarettes and a rapid heartbeat, he’d begun to hyperventilate. At the same time, he’d never felt better in his life. Settling into the driver’s seat, he grabbed the phone. After he fumbled with the buttons for a few moments, Phoebe came on the line.

He gasped for breath and pushed the videotape of Risky Business she had given him out from beneath his hip.

“We did it, Phoebe.”

“You’re kidding!” He could envision her wide, generous smile.

“I did exactly what you said.” He gasped. “And it worked. Except now I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“Take some deep breaths; I don’t want to lose you now.” She laughed. “I can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I.” He was beginning to feel better. “Let me change my clothes and wash this grease out of my hair. Then I’ll be in.”

“It won’t be a minute too soon. We’ve got a ton of work here, and I don’t have the faintest idea what to do with any of it.” There was a short pause. “Uh-oh. I’ve got to go. I hear an ominous set of footsteps coming my way.”

Quickly hanging up, she grabbed her makeup mirror with a shaking hand and lifted her pinky to her eyebrow just as Dan exploded into her office. She caught a glimpse of her secretary’s startled face behind him before he slammed the door.

Her office window faced the practice fields, so she should have been used to his aggression by now. She’d seen him throw clipboards and charge onto the field when he didn’t like someone’s performance. She’d watched him hurl his unprotected body at a player in full equipment to demonstrate some mysterious football move. And once, when she’d been in the office late and all the players had left, she’d watched him do laps around the track wearing a sweat-stained T-shirt and a pair of gray athletic shorts that had revealed a set of powerfully muscled legs.