In the audience her stepmother, Isobel, momentarily held her breath. “Oh, dear God, don’t let him drop her,” she said softly.
Her husband, John, laughed quietly. “Don’t worry, darling, she’s in good hands.”
Farther in the back of the theater, fifteen-year-old Nona Reed sat rapt, her eyes hardly blinking as she stared at the dancers onstage. One day, she promised, she would be the one up there wowing the audience. She would be as good as Belana Whitaker.
She’d gotten so excited that she’d reached for her grandmother’s hand, something she didn’t often do anymore because she thought she was too old for those kinds of demonstrations of affection. Momma Yvonne had squeezed her hand affectionately.
Nona knew Momma Yvonne was as happy to be here as she was. She loved the ballet. “Your father’s going to be sorry he missed this,” she whispered into Nona’s ear.
Nona smiled, but mentioning her father had stuck a pin in her balloon of happiness. She doubted very much that he was even thinking of her tonight. He was somewhere in California negotiating a deal for one of his big-time sports stars. He didn’t care about her.
“I swear to God, Calvin, I will personally wring your neck if you don’t come to your senses and stop trying to ruin your life!” Nicolas Reed, sports agent, bellowed. Sitting in front of him, reeking of stale booze and holding a cold towel to his pounding head, was Calvin Pruitt, star wide receiver for the Seattle Seahawks.
Calvin raised his head. His bloodshot eyes didn’t appear to be focusing. “Could you lower your voice?” he whined.
“No!” yelled Nick. “I won’t! You need to hear me, and hear me well. You’re lucky management is not kicking you to the curb. Fighting over women in nightclubs …”
“That only happened once!”
“Driving while under the influence; showing up drunk at charity events. Come on, Calvin, that’s embarrassing!” Nick paced the floor of Calvin’s elegantly appointed living room. “As for your career, you’re lucky it’s the off-season. You still have time to get in shape before training for the new season begins. You don’t have the luxury of stretching out your bad behavior for much longer. Janet’s serious about divorcing you if you don’t stop acting like a fool. And I’ve told you this more than once, you’re getting that big paycheck because you’re delivering the goods and when you stop delivering the goods, it all goes away.” Nick paused for a deep breath. “If you don’t believe me, keep treating your body like a trash disposal and see how fast you’re fired. Frankly, I don’t want to be around to see you fall that hard. If you can’t be the man I think you are, I’ll have to stop representing you. I don’t want to watch you crash and burn.”
This time Calvin’s eyes focused and he actually looked pained to hear Nick’s threat. “You wouldn’t do that to me, man,” he said pleadingly. Nicolas Reed had taken him on five years ago when he’d been plucked from collegiate obscurity and given the opportunity to play for the Seahawks. He had been a solid college ballplayer, but not a star. He’d seen some of his fellow teammates at Notre Dame become top draft picks while he had prayed that somebody, anybody, would take a chance on him. He’d gotten his wish but was about to blow it because he hadn’t been able to handle the pressures. A salary he was certain he wasn’t worth. With the salary came responsibilities he wasn’t prepared for. His family, his friends were constantly coming to him with their hands out. And the women! Women who probably wouldn’t give him the time of day if he weren’t a millionaire were throwing themselves at him. He’d broken his marriage vows, started drinking too much and partying until he dropped. Spending money like there was no tomorrow. Spiraling ever downward. Now his wife had threatened him with divorce and the loss of custody of his three-year-old son if he didn’t straighten up.
Tears gleamed in his eyes as he stared up at his friend and agent. “Do you think I need to go to rehab?”
Nick nodded solemnly. “I’ve already set it up. Four weeks in Arizona. Physical conditioning and sessions with a psychiatrist who’ll help you face the reasons why you’re trying to throw your life away. You say you want your wife back. You’re not going to win her back with this behavior and if you’re not careful, you’re going to lose Calvin Jr., too. You’ve got to man up, my brother. Do the hard thing, and that’s to admit you’ve screwed up and do everything you can to make it up to your family. Got me? Because if you can’t find the strength to do that, it will prove to me that you’ve given up on yourself, and if you’ve given up on yourself, then I can’t represent you anymore. I know that sounds cold, but sometimes you have to face the cold, hard truth before you can change.”
Nick looked regretful but he wasn’t about to back down. Too much was at stake: Calvin’s future and his wife, Janet’s, future. She had been the one to phone Nick and ask him to talk to Calvin, try to make him see what he was doing to their son, Calvin Jr., with his irresponsible behavior. Nick admired her for wanting to fight for her family and had gotten to Seattle as quickly as he could.
Calvin cried silent tears. His head continued to throb with pain and the crying had released mucus that was running out of his nose. He grabbed tissues off the table in front of him and blew his nose. “Do you still believe in me, Nick?”
Nick paused before speaking because he knew his answer meant a lot to Calvin. He’d known from the beginning that Calvin had self-esteem issues, which led to his being so easily duped by women who were only after his money. Calvin wasn’t the first professional athlete Nick had dealt with whose ego was blown up by fame, making them believe they could have any woman they wanted and not have to suffer the consequences. Nick hadn’t seen this coming, though, because when he’d met Calvin at Notre Dame when he was a senior, he’d been a young man yearning to make something of himself; he’d been honest and hard-working, a truly good guy whom Nick was proud to represent.
One of Nick’s strengths was seeing the potential in someone and helping them reach it. “I still believe in you, Calvin.” He placed a comforting hand on Calvin’s shoulder and squeezed. “Now, get up, get showered and dressed. You’re getting on a plane in three hours.”
After Calvin had left the room, Nick sat down hard on a chair. Sighing heavily, he raked a big hand over his close-cropped natural black hair and let his bearded chin rest wearily on his chest for a moment. He had threatened to stop representing Calvin only to scare him into facing his issues. When he’d started out as an agent he hadn’t known that in his job description would be nursemaid and life coach. However, in the past seven years he’d done his fair share of intervening in the life of an athlete whose career was headed down the tubes. Sometimes he succeeded, as he felt certain he would do with Calvin. Sometimes he failed. It was never up to him, though. Each individual had to find the strength to break through whatever obstacles were keeping him down and find the winner within.
Rising, he smiled to himself, thinking of Nona. He glanced at his watch. It would be around 8:00 p.m. in New York City right now. She would be at the ballet with his mother, Yvonne. He suddenly had the urge to call her just to hear her voice, but he knew he would be interrupting and she wouldn’t appreciate it. His little girl was hooked on ballet. She lived and breathed it. She took weekly classes, and practiced every day. There were recitals he missed more often than not, but which he got blow-by-blow critiques of from his mother; and Nona’s bedroom wall was covered in posters of ballet luminaries, mostly of guys in tights with prominent packages. Nick grimaced. He hoped Nona didn’t choose guys for that reason. But she was fifteen. Try as he might to keep her his little girl, she was growing up.
He’d told her he had