she deactivated her interaction mode and went totally inside her head, seeking to understand what motivates humans, while continuing to keep an eye out for Derek.
Neither of them was paying attention to the spectators behind them.
* * *
Derek was suiting up in front of his locker when Charles arrived. The room was filling with Fishers, voices bouncing off the walls.
“How you feelin’?” It was hard for Derek to keep the snipe out of his voice. He had left the apartment while Charles was in the shower. He hadn’t been in the mood to talk to him. He still wasn’t in the mood to talk to him. He was supposed to go out there and half-ass it, just to make Charles look good? Derek had finally made it off the bench, his playing was hot … this was fucked up.
Charles didn’t answer, just shook his head and threw a duffel bag on his chair. Pulling out his gear, he said, “Just tried to call Naomi. Her pops won’t let me talk to her. Like I’m nothing.”
“No kidding.”
“Whatever, dude.”
O’Donnell and a few owners walked into the room with the coach and the manager. As the administration filed through, heading toward the coach’s office, O’Donnell glared first at Charles and then Derek. The group left a stink of cologne in their wake.
Derek finished lacing up his sneakers and grabbed a ball. “You guys are really stealing the joy from this game.”
“Derek, this is a big deal. It’s my life. Please, be my wingman today.”
“I’m always your wingman. I thought you were mine. Turns out, you aren’t looking out for anybody but yourself.” Derek left before he threw the ball at his best friend’s head.
Emerging from the tunnel, his heart skittered. Hara was there, five feet from him, looking adorable in a sweatshirt and a hat. He’d hoped she wouldn’t come to the game, knowing O’Donnell wanted her gone. Yet, here she was, and he just wanted to put down the ball, go to her, and carry her out the door.
She saw him. Her blue eyes widened and she started to smile, but then it faltered. She offered a small half wave instead, which he returned with a nod. Then she beckoned to him.
He hesitated, knowing it was best if he stayed away. But he could also be an adult and politely say hello.
An image of her popped into his head, sitting on his counter, her robe open, her head thrown back. He could smell her. Oh, hell no. Not right now. Getting hard in the middle of the court, right in front of press row—that would play well in the papers. Besides, the sex scenario was done for. Hara was a reporter and she was going home and there would be no more touchy-touchy. Derek had to let this go.
He stood up, straight, alert. Madeline Bingley. One look at her hatchet face and the iron melted out of his pole. The blonde assistant was making a beeline for the reporter, a grim look on her face.
* * *
Hara turned to see what Derek was staring at over her shoulder.
“Hello,” said Madeline, more of a threat than a greeting. “Mr. O’Donnell would like to speak to you.”
Oh shit.
Next to her, Eddie ignored the tense subtext and said, “Hi, Ms. Bingley, would you mind giving me a minute of your time? Maybe give me your take on the team roster—”
“Hara?” Madeline didn’t even look at Eddie, only kept her gaze steady on Hara as she nodded toward the tunnel. “Let’s go.”
“Maybe Eddie should come with me. He’d love to meet an owner. Wouldn’t you, Eddie? Wouldn’t you love to meet Mr. O’Donnell?”
Before he could answer, the assistant said, “Some other time.” She put a hand on Hara’s shoulder and squeezed. Her nails dug in. “How’s your father, by the way?”
“Um. Good. Thanks.” The message was received. Hara could hear the blood thudding in her ears. “Eddie, could you save me a seat? I’ll be back.”
“Actually, Eddie, she won’t be.” Madeline, her nails still dug into Hara’s arm, pulled her toward the tunnel entrance. “Come on, little miss reporter. Can’t keep the big man waiting.”
Hara felt a rush of gratitude when Derek was suddenly between them and the tunnel. “What’s up, Madeline? You seem like you’re in a rush.”
“This is none of your concern, Mr. Darcy. Please, go practice like a good little boy. Mr. O’Donnell will be watching.”
“You know, I think I’m just gonna go ahead and tag along.” He towered over the assistant, the