Keeping Score (21 page)

“I wish you’d at least tell the media you’re not the father of that woman’s baby. Defend yourself.”

“It won’t do any good.” Warrick kneaded the knot at the base of his neck.

“We’re not talking about your father, who never listens to anyone but himself. At least try it.” Marilyn’s frustration was loud and clear.

“The press won’t listen. Instead they’ll try to goad me into a reaction they can feed to all of their outlets.” As frayed as his temper had been lately, it wouldn’t take much goading to get him to snap.

“Jordan Hyatt told all of New York that you cheated on me.” Marilyn’s voice was tight. “Our friends, neighbors, family, your teammates heard her. All that I’m asking is that you set the record straight.”

What could he say to convince her that waiting was the more prudent course? “It bothers me that there are people who will believe her lies. But you’re the only person I have to defend myself to and you already believe in me.”

Marilyn’s sigh was soft. “I don’t want people to think badly of you. You’re a good person, Rick. A great person. You don’t deserve this.”

Warrick’s heart twisted. God, he wished she were near him. Her words weren’t enough. He wanted to touch her. Hold her.

He sat on the edge of the bed, propping his elbow on his knee. “What you think is all that matters to me. Our marriage is about you and me. Don’t let what other people think about us affect that.”

Marilyn hesitated. “What is this really about, Rick?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you reluctant to talk with the press because of the Monarchs?”

He stiffened. “This has nothing to do with the team.”

A beat of silence traveled through the line. “Janet Crowley called.”

Warrick dreaded the reason behind Marilyn’s abrupt change of topic. “The clinic partner?”

“I’m not getting the partnership.” Her disappointment was audible. “Janet and Dionne believe our lifestyle is too disruptive for their practice.”

Warrick scrubbed a hand over his face.
Son of a—
“Mary, I’m so very sorry. I know how much you wanted a partnership with that clinic.”

“Your silence may be good for the team, Rick, but it’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

Warrick stood, hoping to soothe his agitation. “Mary, our choices are speaking up now and keeping her lies in the news or waiting until we have the proof we need to discredit her.”

“But we don’t know what we’re looking for or how long it will take for us to find this information.”

Warrick closed his eyes at the desperation in her voice. “It shouldn’t take that long.” He hoped.

“And in the meantime, you’ll stay quiet to avoid any media coverage that could distract the team and cost you the series.”

Guilt pricked him although the charge wasn’t completely true. “I have to consider how my actions will affect them.”

“What about me, Rick?” Her voice was tired. “I don’t want to take a backseat to the Monarchs.”

Marilyn ended the call. Warrick held on to his cell phone, prolonging their connection while the silence stretched and bore down around him. He couldn’t shake off the weight of her words or quiet the questions chasing each other in his mind.

Should he hold a press conference? Was he asking Marilyn to take a backseat to his team? Who was Jordan Hyatt and why in the hell had she chosen his life to ruin?

“Jordan Hyatt must be mentally unbalanced.” Less than half an hour later, Marilyn sat in the kitchen with Emma. She was nursing a second glass of ice water.

“Why do you say that?” Emma had barely touched her first glass.

Marilyn looked up in surprise. “Why else would she claim to be Rick’s lover? She must be delusional.”

Emma searched Marilyn’s eyes. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m asking as a friend.”

No good ever came from “friendly questions” that began with those words. “What is it?”

Emma took a breath. “Are you sure Rick isn’t cheating on you?”

Marilyn squelched the urge to toss Emma out onto the street. Emma was only looking out for her best interests. Wasn’t she? “I’m positive. Rick and I spend most of our free time together.”

Emma pursed her lips. “I know. Now that you’re married, I hardly ever see you.”

Marilyn blinked. Was that resentment in her friend’s voice? “So when would he have time to have an affair?”

Emma snorted. “Don’t be naive, Mary. With the hours you work, Rick’s home alone a lot of nights. He also travels a lot during the year and you never go with him.”

“I have—had—a job. Besides, I trust him.”

“You wouldn’t be the first wife of a professional athlete who trusted her husband only to have him make a fool of her.” Emma folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. “Would you like me to list the cheaters’ names alphabetically or by sport?”

Marilyn didn’t recognize the woman seated across the table. “Don’t judge my husband by the bad experiences you’ve had with men.”

A spark of anger lit Emma’s green eyes. “Sooner or later, they all break your heart.”

“Not Rick.”

“Yeah, I could tell from that photo in the
Horn
.”

Marilyn caught her breath. “That’s not funny, Em. That photograph was mortifying. It also cost me my job and my parents’ respect.”

Emma cocked her head. “What about the partnership? Have you heard from Janet or Dionne?”

Marilyn eased her throat with a sip of water. “They’ve declined my application.”

Emma sat back in her seat. “Your job, the partnership. This has gone too far. Why are you still with him?”

“If I allow the media to destroy my marriage, I would be letting it go too far.” The media, her boss, her mother. Should she now add her friend to the list of outside forces trying to come between her and Warrick?

The disappointment in Emma’s eyes reminded Marilyn of her mother. “When we were in college, you said you didn’t want to be thought of as the Devrys’ daughter.”

Marilyn nodded. “That’s right. I wanted my own identity.”

Emma crossed her arms and legs. “Instead of marrying a doctor as your mother wanted, you moved three thousand miles away and became a doctor.”

“That’s what I wanted to do.” What was Emma’s point?

“Then almost as soon as you got your medical license, you married an NBA superstar and became Mrs. Warrick Evans.”

“It’s Dr. Marilyn Devry-Evans.” Marilyn stood and crossed to the sink. She wanted distance between herself and Emma. Was the width of the kitchen enough?

“You gave up your identity.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“He cost you your job.”

She spun back to face her friend. “
Arthur
cost me my job.”

“Why do you always defend him?”

“Why are you attacking him?” Marilyn planted her hands on her hips. “A true friend would focus instead on helping me prove to the media and the public that Rick is a good man and Jordan Hyatt is a liar.”

The telephone rang, shattering the tense silence. Marilyn glanced over her shoulder toward the hallway. “Rick suggested screening the calls to make sure they aren’t reporters.”

Emma pushed back her chair. “He has you cowering in fear inside your own home? That’s ridiculous.”

Marilyn’s eyes widened as she watched Emma hurry from her kitchen. Her honey blond curls waved behind her.

“Em!” Marilyn arrived in the family room seconds too late.

“The Evans residence.” Emma turned away from Marilyn.

Marilyn clamped her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Hang up.” She hissed the command.

Emma shrugged out of Marilyn’s grip. “Yes, she’s right here.” She extended the cordless telephone receiver to Marilyn. “It’s your mother.”

Marilyn snatched the phone from the other woman and covered the mouthpiece. “Are you crazy?”

“He has you afraid to answer your own phone.
That’s
crazy.” Emma circled Marilyn on her way to the front door. “We’ll talk later. I’ll let myself out.” Emma strutted to the front door.

What had gotten into her?

Marilyn turned her attention to the telephone. She braced herself for the coming storm. “Hello, Mother.”

“Your husband’s
mistress
held a press conference.” Celeste was shouting.

Marilyn may never forgive Emma for answering her phone. Her friend hadn’t done her any favors. “Rick doesn’t have a mistress.”

“And she’s
pregnant
.” Celeste spat the words.

Marilyn pinched the bridge of her nose. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Mother. Is that the only reason you called?”

“What’s happening to you, Marilyn?” Celeste sounded genuinely concerned.

Marilyn’s shoulders sagged. She was tired and coming to the end of her patience. “Since Jordan Hyatt called her bogus press conference, my phone’s been ringing off the hook, Mother. Everyone’s eager to vilify Rick and question my judgment. But instead of tearing us apart, these attacks have made me even more determined to save my marriage.”

“What is there to save?” Celeste’s voice hardened. “Your marriage is over. You’re the only one who doesn’t know it.”

“Not the only one. Rick doesn’t know it, either.”

“That man is cheating on you.” The words and tone were mean.

She could add her mother to the list of people calling her naive. But none of them knew Warrick, so who were they to judge? “No, he’s not.”

“Is that what he told you?” Disdain lay like a carpet over Celeste’s words.

“He didn’t have to tell me. I know my husband.”

“The wife is always the last to find out.”

“He’s not a cheater.”

“All men are cheaters.” Celeste’s words flew like knives from her lips. “Your father’s a cheater.”

Marilyn’s body shivered with shock. She couldn’t have heard her mother correctly. “What?”

“Your father’s a cheater.” Celeste repeated the accusation with a slow and careful delivery.

“You’re. Lying.”

“Why would I lie?” There was a shrug in the words. “For sympathy? The truth certainly doesn’t paint me in a good light. In fact, it adds credence to your father’s allegations.”

Marilyn’s ears were ringing. Her lips were numb. She couldn’t understand what her mother was saying. “What are you talking about?”

Celeste’s chuckle was bitter. “Your father claims I’m more interested in social status than sex.”

Marilyn shook her head, hoping to clear her mind of the image her mother’s words painted.

“Is that why he had an affair?” She still didn’t believe it. Her father cheated on her mother? Impossible. Her father was a hardworking, devoted family man. He wouldn’t cheat. “Why did you stay with him?”

Celeste sniffed. “A divorce would have been too embarrassing. And he promised never to stray again.”

Marilyn hesitated. “Why did he stay with you?”

Celeste’s laughter was amused this time. “Perhaps he’s more interested in social status than sex, too.”

“When did this happen?”

“Oh, it’s been a couple of years now.” Her mother tried to sound indifferent, but there was hurt in Celeste’s voice.

Her father had been unfaithful. The affair had happened years ago. She’d had no idea. The information was too difficult to process. It was a side of her parents’ relationship she hadn’t needed to know.

Marilyn rubbed her eyes. “Why are you telling me this, Mother?”

“Why does a mother confide anything to her daughter? Because she doesn’t want her child to make the same mistakes she’s made.”

Marilyn hugged herself with her free arm. “So you think I should leave Rick.”

Celeste snorted. “I didn’t think you should marry him in the first place.”

Marilyn remembered well her mother’s objection to her marriage. Neither of her parents had given their blessing.

She stared across the room at the framed photograph of herself and Warrick on their Hawaiian honeymoon. He looked happier and much more relaxed than she’d seen him all year. If only they could return to that exact moment in time when they were just Warrick and Marilyn, not the Monarchs’ superstar shooting guard and his wife. His celebrity was taking a toll on him—on them. They hadn’t signed up for this.

No, you signed up to be
my
wife, in good times and in bad. I guess this is the bad part.
Warrick’s words were like a talisman for her to hold on to.

“I’m going to save my marriage, Mother.”

“Then you’re a fool.” Celeste’s accusation stung.

Marilyn’s lips twisted. “Like mother, like daughter.”

“How dare you say that to me?” Her mother’s reaction lacked heat. Marilyn heard more uncertainty in those seven words than her mother had revealed to her in Marilyn’s entire thirty-three years.

“I dare because it’s true. You said Father admitted to having an affair, but you remained married. I know Rick hasn’t cheated on me. Yet you’ve demanded that I end my marriage and come home. Before you issue fiats on what everyone else should do, make sure your own decisions are unimpeachable.” Marilyn disconnected the call with much more control than she felt.

Warrick was right. Their marriage was about them. No one else’s opinion of their relationship mattered. Still, Marilyn looked forward to proving everyone—Janet, Emma, Arthur, and her mother—wrong.

The Monarchs took possession of the ball during Sunday night’s game in Miami. The shot clock started its countdown.

“What are you gonna do about your kid?” Marlon Burress’s taunt needled Warrick as he was certain the Waves’ shooting guard had intended.

The Monarchs led game five of the Eastern Conference Championship by an amazing—for them—nine points with less than four minutes left. The series was tied at two. Warrick didn’t want the Waves to claim a third win. Apparently, neither did his teammates. But the harder the Monarchs fought to maintain their lead, the more incendiary Burress’s comments became. The other player was getting to Warrick. He was already in foul trouble.

The shot clock ticked down to twenty seconds. Warrick was out of sync with the rest of his team. He jogged back to the Waves basket. But he was a step behind Serge and the intended play. A step too far to claim the pass the forward sent him. Vincent hustled back to save the play and send the ball back to Serge.