For the Children. Tara Quinn Taylor

else. Infuriating man!

      Silence seemed to be typical for him. And left Valerie with too much to say and a need not to say it.

      “You may know basketball, Mr. Chandler.” She said it anyway. “But I know my son. If you allow him to play, he won’t let you down. But if you don’t, you’ll be letting him down.”

      He rested the ball against his side, tucked beneath his elbow. “Have you ever been a man, Ms. Simms?”

      “I don’t know, Mr. Chandler. I’ve never done a past-life regression.”

      It was his emphasis on the Ms. that had taken a lot of the anger out of Valerie’s reply. That and the quietly serious light in his eyes. He was making a point. She didn’t get it. And she honestly wanted to understand what he was thinking. Why he was being so difficult? He was an intelligent man. He cared about the kids. What was she missing?

      “The way I understand things, it’s not a need to play basketball, in particular, that’s the problem here. It’s Brian’s self-esteem.”

      “That’s right.” She nodded. “But basketball is the issue, too. It’s the only thing that’s lit a fire under him in a long time. The boys’ father had a hoop installed for them several years ago and Brian’s always been a good shot.”

      Not that Thomas had ever known that. He’d arranged for the hoop for Christmas one year. But he hadn’t been home to see his sons’ reactions when the surprise arrived. Nor for any other part of that Christmas holiday. He’d never once seen either of the boys shoot the ball.

      “I understand Brian has an attachment to the game,” Chandler said, meeting her gaze head-on. “But it will be worse for his self-esteem to give him something he hasn’t earned. Something he isn’t yet qualified to do.”

      “Brian has worked as hard or harder than anyone else out there.”

      “At shooting, maybe.” The coach’s eyes narrowed. “But being an athlete requires much more than ball-handling skill. First and foremost, he needs to take care of his instrument—his only real tool—his body.”

      For a second there, Valerie was reminded of various times on the bench when one defense attorney or another brought to light something the prosecutors missed. She’d look at the file in front of her, the sheaf of papers and reports that were her constant guides, and suddenly see a hole in information that had seemed concrete and actionable.

      “It will be much worse for Brian in the long run if things are given to him without his having earned them—given to him before he’s ready for them,” Chandler repeated.

      It was a valid point.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      “BRIAN’S SEEING a counselor, Mr. Chandler.” Afraid to lose such a critical confrontation, Valerie stepped up the heat. “I’ve been privy to the counselor’s findings.”

      The ball was back between his hands. Spinning slowly.

      “Right now, through his own self-sabotage, Brian’s physiological needs are not being completely met,” Valerie said honestly. “Until those needs are met, nothing else matters. Life lessons of the kind to which you’re referring, simply pass him by. If we can’t get him to eat, we can’t get him to a place where those lessons will make any difference. Practicing with the team is not enough incentive to get him to eat. But I really believe that being on the team would.”

      He spun the ball. Bounced it a couple of times. Opened his mouth to speak.

      “You have to understand,” Valerie interrupted. “For months we’ve been looking for something, anything, that’s important enough to Brian to coax him to eat. We’ve finally found something he’s passionate about, and your decision is standing between us and Brian’s cure.”

      “Basketball doesn’t even matter at the moment,” Valerie concluded with the rush of adrenaline she used to get when, as a defense attorney, she knew she’d won over the jury.

      Catching the ball between his palms, Kirk Chandler held it there.

      “The game matters, though,” he said softly, but she heard the determination behind his words. “The game of life, if you’ll pardon the cliché. And Brian’s playing it. Winning isn’t everything, Ms. Simms. Getting him to eat will mean less if he’s bribed to do it. He has to eat because he makes the decision, because of something he wants to achieve. With the first, you’re giving control of his life, his eating, to others. With the second, the control rests with him.”

      Eyes narrowed, Valerie wondered if Kirk Chandler had been a lawyer in his previous life. It was sure as hell obvious he’d been more than a crossing guard, lunchroom monitor, playground cop or basketball coach. She’d lost very few cases during her years in court, but occasionally an opposing attorney would outmaneuver her, as Kirk Chandler had just done.

      “If he loses one more pound, I’m going to get letters from Brian’s doctor and counselor, bring them to Mr. McDonald and have him put my son on that team.” Steve McDonald, now the principal at Menlo Ranch, had been the boys’ second-grade teacher.

      “Then you’d better make sure he comes to practice,” Chandler said, apparently not the least bit moved by her threat.

      Valerie had more to say but the boys exploded out of the locker room and zoomed across to her.

      “Ready, Mom?” Brian asked.

      “Yep!” An arm around each of them, she turned with her little family to leave.

      “See you tomorrow, guys,” Chandler called out.

      “Yeah, see ya, Coach,” the boys chorused in perfect unison.

      They were out in the Mercedes before Valerie realized she’d just lost what might prove to be one of the most important cases of her life. Somehow, without her having consciously agreed, Brian was going to be practicing with the team.

      Confused as to how that had happened, Valerie was the one who didn’t have much of an appetite that night.

      AT FIVE IN THE MORNING on Halloween Friday, Kirk was at his desk, having already sent out enough faxes to keep his line tied up for almost an hour. Paperwork had been signed, sealed and delivered for the Gandoyne/Aster merger on Tuesday of that week, a three-day negotiation from open to close. The rest—well, he wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing.

      He’d told Troy that Gandoyne would be his only deal. Yes, he could have Chandler Acquisitions up and running again at little more than a moment’s notice. Yes, his reputation was still garnering him business opportunities on a daily basis. But he was finished. Had a new life. New goals and priorities.