Page 29 of Play for Keeps

“Good for you.” She lifted the glass and latched on to the straws with a vengeance.

“Tell me you’re sorry about wanting to leak my honeymoon pictures to the press.”

“But I’m not,” Millie countered. “If anything, it would have given you an opportunity to be the first collegiate coach with a legitimate shot at making the swimwear editions.”

“Exactly what I’ve been aiming for my entire career,” Kate muttered.

“I’d never let them exploit our Katie.” Avery’s response was automatic but a bit distracted. “How much do they pay for those things anyway?”

Millie looked over and found Avery staring intently at the scotch in her glass. She smirked. “I hear you get some decent moolah. Should we call a modeling agency?” Millie asked with exaggerated sweetness.

“I think between me and Danny, we’ll be able to cover the light bill.” Kate laughed, but an edge of sharpness undercut the effect. Wetting her lips, Kate dismissed her moodiness with a short shake of her head. “Sorry. Just a little tired of being talked about like a commodity.”

Millie grimaced an apology. Kate’s contract negotiations had taken on new dimensions when the university had tried to dismiss Danny due to their personal involvement. All of Kate’s future happiness, personal and professional, had boiled down to what essentially became a game of chicken played out in the media. As her friend, Millie couldn’t blame her for wanting to shy away from the spotlight, but professionally, she had an obligation to the university and to Kate herself to be certain she was positioned to grab all the best possible opportunities for publicity. It was a constant struggle for balance but one she was supremely adept at handling. The high-wire act was part of what Millie loved about her job, and Kate knew and understood. The dichotomy kept their friendship interesting, if not always harmonious.

Avery set her glass on the table and, with her trademark single-mindedness, followed her thoughts straight down the rabbit hole. “I bet they pay well though, and if you were to put the money toward—”

“I don’t want to be anybody’s poster girl.” Kate paused, then split a look between them. “Like everyone else, I want to be left alone to do my job.”

Millie nodded, swallowing any smart-assery she might have spewed a couple of months before as she remembered Ty expressing the same sentiment nearly word for word the night Mari’s defection became public. She gave her friend the same canned answer she spewed at him. “No one lives in a vacuum,” she said instead.

“I know,” Kate murmured, staring at the scarred tabletop.

Then she lifted her head, tossing back a fall of smooth, chestnut hair that always made Millie think of the sleek, glossy mane on a thoroughbred horse. That’s exactly what her friend was—a thoroughbred. Beautiful but skittish. Born to run like the wind but kept carefully corralled.

The increase in revenues generated by college athletic programs meant the system had become a gilded cage. Deep-pocketed alumni or enthusiastic boosters still mattered, but they weren’t where the big money came in. No, the networks supplied the grease to make the wheels turn. The public had staked a claim on intercollegiate athletics, elevating some of the programs and their players to a level many professional franchises aspired to reach. And a run of bad publicity had brought down more than one legendary program.

Coaching was the one area where the pay for performance was entirely legal. Fail to live up to potential, and the press would take great joy in helping to dismantle a career. It had happened to Danny and a good many football coaches before him.

Now, the spotlight was shining brighter on the hardwood court. The men’s programs, like Ty’s, were destined to take the heat, but high-profile women like Kate were becoming a bigger target. Avery considered this progress, from a detached, feminist point of view. But both Millie and Avery were attached to Kate, and the strongest argument for the advancement of women either of them could make was to help her bargain from a position of power. In all things.

“What’s happening, Mil?” Kate asked, her voice gentle with concern. “For a couple of weeks, you were all coy and enigmatic whenever we talked about Ty—”

“Apparently not too enigmatic,” Millie grumbled.

Avery chuckled, then reached over to pat Millie’s hand. “More the giddy kind of enigmatic. Gives you away every time.”

Kate nodded and tapped the thick handle of her mug. “For the last couple of weeks, you haven’t said anything at all, which leads us to speculate.”

“Right now, the leading theories are Mari had him killed, and someone’s making a hole in the desert,” Avery said, holding up one finger.

“Holes in the desert would be Las Vegas. Ty’s in Reno,” Millie corrected. “Besides, Mari’s getting her divorce. Why would she kill him?”

Avery shrugged. “Quicker?”

“Messy,” Kate interjected.

“I’m pretty sure he’s not dead.” Flicking up a second finger, Avery moved on. “Okay, possibility number two is Ty met one of those chorus girls, and you discovered they’re busy trying to repopulate the earth with freakishly tall children.”

“Wow. Talk about fast work,” Millie commented, raising both brows.

“Personally, I think that’s your long shot,” Kate chimed in. “I think we all know Ty prefers the vertically challenged types to those of us with loftier aspirations.”

“I may not qualify as freakishly tall, but I’m not exactly petite,” Millie reminded her.

Avery sat up taller on her stool, but the adjustment didn’t do much good. “As one of the vertically challenged, I find this line of reasoning offensive.”

“It was Kate’s reasoning,” Millie hurled back.

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