It Had to Be You (Chicago Stars #1)(86)



“Now how could a sweet young lady like you be in the way?”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I certainly am. When Phoebe gets home, tell her that I’ll be dropping by whenever I can get away. Will that be okay?”

“That’ll be fine.”

“And if she says she’s not letting me in the door, you tell her you invited me and she can’t weasel out. See you tonight, Miz Molly.”

“See you.”

Dan hung up Phoebe’s telephone. He grinned down at her from his comfortable perch on the corner of her desk. “I’m coming over with pizza tonight. Your sister invited me.”

Phoebe concealed her amusement. “Is it possible for you to do anything in a straightforward fashion? When you walked in my office less than three minutes ago, did it occur to you to simply ask me directly if you could stop by instead of telephoning Molly?”

“As a matter of fact, it didn’t occur to me.”

“Maybe I don’t want to see you.”

“Of course you do. Everybody knows I’m irresistible to women.”

“In your dreams, Tonto.”

“What are you so grouchy about?”

“You know what time the plane landed. I had to be here for an eight o’clock meeting, and I’ve only had a couple of hours of sleep.”

“Sleep is highly overrated.”

“For you, maybe, but not for those of us who are real human beings instead of cleverly designed androids programmed to stay awake all the time.”

He chuckled, and she dug in her drawer for the bottle of aspirin she kept there. She still couldn’t believe what had happened between them last night in the plane. When he’d issued that silly ultimatum at the end, she hadn’t been able to resist sparring with him, despite the fact that she should know enough by now not to fall into his games, let alone try to beat him at them. Still, she couldn’t suppress the hope that last night had changed things between them.

He would never know what a precious gift he had given her. She was no longer afraid of sexual intimacy, at least not with him. Somehow this good-looking, cocky, Alabama bruiser had helped her reclaim her womanhood. If only she weren’t so afraid that he was also going to break her heart into a million pieces.

He transferred himself from the corner of her desk to the nearest chair. “We’ve got some unfinished business to take care of. If you’ll remember, we got distracted last night before we completed our discussion.”

She busied herself with the cap of the aspirin bottle. “Damn. I can never get these things off. I hate safety caps.”

“Don’t look at me. I can bench press 290, but I can’t budge those suckers.”

She fiddled with the cap and finally gave up. Dan was right. They needed to talk. Setting aside the bottle, she folded her hands on the desk in front of her. “Do you want to go first?”

“All right.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “It’s pretty simple, I guess. I’m the head coach, and you’re the owner. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell me how to do my job, just like I don’t tell you how to do yours.”

Phoebe stared at him. “In case it’s slipped your mind, you’ve been telling me how to do my job since you broke into my apartment in August.”

He looked injured. “I thought we were going to have a discussion, not an argument. Just once, Phoebe, make a little effort to hold on to that quick temper of yours.”

Her hand crept toward the aspirin bottle. She spoke slowly, softly. “Go on, Coach Calebow.”

Her formal mode of address didn’t deter him. “I don’t want you to interfere with the team again before the game.”

“What do you consider interference?”

“Well, I guess it pretty much goes without saying that showing up in the locker room before the game would be at the top of my list. If you have something you want communicated to the players, tell me and I’ll pass it on. I’d also appreciate it if you’d stay in the front of the plane when we’re traveling. I guess the only exception to that would be on the flight home if we’ve won. Then it’d probably be appropriate for you to make a quick walk-through to congratulate the men. But I’d want you to do it in a dignified fashion. Shake some hands, and then leave them alone.”

She slipped on her leopard-spot glasses and gazed at him steadily. “I’m afraid you’re operating under the mistaken impression that I was having an attack of female hysteria last night when I reminded you—quite forcefully as I remember—that the Stars are my team and not yours.”

“You’re not going to start that again, are you?”

“Dan, I’ve been doing my homework, and I know that a lot of people with some impressive credentials think you’re on your way to being one of the finest coaches in the NFL. I know that the Stars are lucky to have you.”

Despite the sincerity in her voice, he regarded her warily. “Keep talking.”

“The Stars entered this season with a lot of high expectations from fans and the media, and when you didn’t win the early games, the heat was turned up hard and fast. The stories about me didn’t help, I’ll admit. Everybody from the coaches to the rookies got understandably tense, and in the process, I think you may have forgotten one of the most basic lessons you learned when you were playing. You forgot to have fun.”

Susan Elizabeth Phil's Books