Keeping Score

Marilyn admired the ring, too. “I’m certain you and Marc will be very happy together. You have a lot in common and you know what to expect from each others’ careers.”

Jaclyn gave her a wry smile. “It’s still a life-changing decision.”

> Marilyn nodded. “Before we were married, Rick convinced me to move in with him. But it’s not that big of a step from living together to getting married.”

Andrea glanced at Jaclyn before returning her attention to Marilyn. “Troy’s been talking about moving in together.”

A smile tugged on Marilyn’s lips. “Are you ready to be Mrs. Troy Marshall?”

Andrea’s eyes widened with concern. “I’m still trying to rebuild my career.”

Marilyn chuckled. “The day we returned from our honeymoon, Rick wanted to talk about starting a family.”

Jaclyn frowned at her left hand. “Marc started talking about kids right after I said yes to his proposal.”

Marilyn shrugged. “I guess I believed the fairy tales growing up. You fall in love with your Prince Charming, get married, and live happily ever after. The reality is the wedding isn’t the end of the story. It’s the beginning of another.”

Andrea sighed. “No one ever told us how the second story ends.”

“No, they didn’t.” Marilyn had met Andrea during a recent event the Monarchs hosted to celebrate making it to the Eastern Conference Championship. She’d liked the reporter immediately. “Whoever said, ‘Love conquers all’ wasn’t married to a celebrity.”

Jaclyn’s brow knitted with concern. “You don’t think it’s true?”

Marilyn’s gaze dropped to her engagement and wedding rings. “I don’t know if love’s enough.”

Warrick’s teammates were pretending the postgame confrontation in the Monarchs’ locker room Wednesday night had never happened. The players were already at the facility where practice would begin in less than an hour. Several of them were stretching with yoga bands on the court. Others were jumping rope, each turn smacking against the high-gloss hardwood floor. The rest were tossing shots at the baskets suspended from the ceiling’s perimeter.

Warrick ignored his teammates and focused on the basket in front of him. He bounced the ball three times for luck, sighted the backboard for a clear shot, and bent his knees. Nothing but net.

“You haven’t missed a shot yet.” Serge’s words coming from behind him proved at least one of his teammates couldn’t entirely ignore him.

Warrick crossed to retrieve the ball, catching it just as it tried to roll away. When he turned to face the Frenchman, he found all of the Monarchs had gathered around the perimeter.

“We need dependable free throws.” Warrick returned to the charity line. His teammates’ expressions varied from Jamal’s obstinacy to Vincent’s customary implacability.

“You play well in practice.” Jamal left unspoken his well-known contention that Warrick struggled in game situations.

Warrick tucked the ball on his hip and met each of the other players’ eyes. “Is there a point to this?”

The other men hesitated, looking at one another for guidance. Finally, Vincent spoke up. “Yeah. There’s a point. You were right to call us out. This series hasn’t been easy on you. The media has been invading your privacy—”

“Yeah, they stuck a camera in your window. Damn!” Jamal laughed even as he shook his head. The other players glared at him. “Sorry.”

Jamal wouldn’t be Jamal if he didn’t say something inappropriate and asinine. The question was, were his comments intentionally provoking? Warrick turned away from him as Serge spoke.

“We shouldn’t have added to your strain with our childish resentment.” Serge hooked his basketball in the crook of his right arm.

Jarrett Hickman shook his head. “Yeah, I wouldn’t change places with you on a bet.”

Roger Harris grunted. “Neither would I.”

Vincent let his jump rope pool onto the court beside him. “We talked after you left the locker room Wednesday night. You were right and we’re sorry.”

A chorus of mumbled agreements accompanied nodding heads.

Serge’s shrug was a gesture only he could make look intelligent. “It is as you said. I’ve been wasting this opportunity. I finally have my wish of being on a competitive team but I haven’t been playing my best. That is going to change.”

Incredible. For once, he’d defended himself and it had made a difference. The burden—or at least a large part of it—that Serge had referred to had been lifted from his shoulders.