It Had to Be You (Chicago Stars #1)(64)

“I wouldn’t dwell on it too much. I’m certain it was just a temporary thing. Bad chemistry.”

In the flash of headlights, she could see him grin. For a fraction of a second she almost forgot the sting of his rejection and smiled herself.

“Honey lamb, there are a lot of things in this world I feel insecure about. Religion. Our national economic policy. What color socks to wear with a blue suit. But, I’ve got to tell you that my performance in that hotel room last night isn’t one of them.”

“With that ego of yours, I’m not surprised.”

“Phoebe, I said I was sorry.”

“Apology accepted. Now if you don’t mind, I’m exhausted.” She rested her head against the window and closed her eyes.

He was just as good at nonverbal communication as she. Within seconds, he’d flipped on the radio and filled the interior of the car with the hostile music of Megadeth. Nothing had been settled between them.



Phoebe saw little of Dan during the week that followed. His days seemed to be spent in watching miles of film, attending an endless number of meetings with his coaches and players, and spending some time each day on the practice field. To her surprise, Molly agreed to accompany her to the game on Sunday against the Detroit Lions, although when Phoebe suggested she bring a friend, she refused, saying that all the girls at her school were bitches.

The Stars beat the Lions by a narrow margin, but the following Sunday at Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh, the team once again fell victim to a series of turnovers and lost a close game. They were now one and three for the season. She ran into Reed at the Pittsburgh airport. He was so cloyingly sympathetic, while at the same time subtly critical, that she couldn’t wait to get away from him.

The next morning, when Phoebe arrived at her office, her secretary handed her a note from Ronald asking her to meet him immediately in the second-floor conference room. As she grabbed her coffee mug and made her way down the hall, she noticed that all the phones were ringing and wondered what new catastrophe had struck?

Dan was leaning against the paneled back wall, ankles and forearms crossed, a scowl on his face as he stared at the television that rested on a movable steel cart along with a VCR. Ron was seated in a swivel chair at the end of the table.

As she slid into the chair to his left, he leaned over and whispered, “This is a tape of ‘Sports in Chicago,’ a popular local program that aired last night while we were flying home. I’m afraid you need to hear this.”

She turned her attention to the television and saw a good-looking, dark-haired announcer seated in a tub chair against a backdrop of the Chicago skyline. He gazed into the camera with the intensity of Peter Jennings covering a major war.

“Through skillful trades and smart draft choices, Bert Somerville and Carl Pogue managed to assemble one of the most talented group of players in the league. But it takes more than talent to win victories, it takes leadership, something the Stars now sorely lack.”

The screen began to show clips from Sunday’s game, a series of fumbles and broken plays. “General manager Ronald McDermitt is not a football visionary—he’s never even played the game—and he simply doesn’t have the maturity to keep a maverick coach like Dan Calebow in line, a coach who needs to be concentrating more on the fundamentals his young players need and less on razzle-dazzle. The Stars are an organization verging on chaos, hampered by inept management, erratic coaching, shaky finances, and an owner who is an embarrassment to the NFL.”

Phoebe stiffened as the camera began to display a montage of photos of her taken over the years. Briefly, the announcer sketched in the details of Bert’s will.

“Socialite Phoebe Somerville’s behavior is turning a serious and noble game into a circus. She doesn’t understand the sport, and doesn’t seem to have any experience managing anything more complicated than her checkbook. Her provocative clothing on the sidelines and her snubs to media requests for interviews make it clear how little respect she has for this talented team and the sport so many of us love.”

The camera cut to an interview with Reed. “I’m certain that Phoebe is doing her best,” he said earnestly. “She’s more accustomed to moving in artistic circles than athletic ones and this is difficult for her. Once she’s fulfilled the requirements of her father’s will, I’m sure I’ll be able to get the Stars back on track quickly.”

She gritted her teeth as Reed went on, smiling into the camera and coming across as the perfect gentlemen to her wild-eyed party girl.

The moussed-up talking head came back on camera. “Despite Reed Chandler’s chivalrous defense of his cousin, January is a long time away. In the meantime, when is Miss Somerville going to provide direction to her general manager? Even more troubling, how can she clamp down on her explosive head coach when a troubling rumor has surfaced. Normally, we would not report this sort of thing, but since it has a direct bearing on what’s happening with the Stars, we feel it’s in the public interest to reveal that a reliable source saw her emerging from Calebow’s Portland hotel suite in the early hours of the morning two weeks ago.”

Dan uttered a blistering obscenity. Phoebe gripped her hands together.

The announcer regarded the camera gravely. “Their meeting might have been innocent, but if it wasn’t, it doesn’t bode well for the Stars. We should also note that Miss Somerville’s indiscretions don’t stop at a rumored fling with her head coach.”