bring the poodle back with him for the game.
For the first time since she had taken over as owner, she joined the team for their pregame dinner at the hotel at five that evening. Instead of taking the chair next to Ron, she sat with Darnell and Elvis Crenshaw, where she bypassed the plate-sized sirloin that was set before her in favor of her baked potato and salad.
It was a grim, silent meal. Afterward, as the players filed out, she saw that a group of Giant fans had somehow gotten into the hotel lobby and draped it with red and blue signs that left no doubt about where their sentiments lay. Her quick flash of anger made her realize how much the Stars had come to matter to her. Instead of an anonymous sports team, they had become a group of people she cared about.
Lost in thought, she dressed automatically in the outfit Simone had made for her in a rush last week. After repacking her suitcase for the late-night return to O'Hare following the game, she met Ron in the lobby.
He smiled as he took in her clothing. 'Perfect.'
She looked doubtfully at her reflection in the mirrored tile on the lobby wall. 'I knew this was no time to stage a retreat, but it's not exactly me.'
She was wearing her own variation of a Stars' uniform: sky blue satin knickers with a sparkly gold stripe down the outside of each thigh. A pair of blue and gold socks were tucked into soft leather sneakers studded with rhinestones. Since the early October evenings were bound to be a bit chilly, Simone had put together a puffy blue and gold satin bomber jacket with an enormous sparkly star on the back and smaller ones scattered over the front. She wore her hair in curls with a wide ribbon threaded through and tied into a floppy blue bow on top of her head, just right of center.
'It's exactly you,' Ron said. 'The cameramen are going to go crazy.'
They said little more to each other as they drove to the Meadowlands and Giants Stadium. Before it had been reclaimed, the Jersey Meadowlands had been a dumping ground for rusty automobiles and men who ran afoul of the mob. Rumors persisted that the stadium had been built on the bridge of Jimmy Hoffa's nose.
When they reached the owners' entrance forty-five minutes before kickoff, Ron volunteered to escort her up to the skybox before he made his regular pregame visit to the locker room, but she had already made up her mind what she needed to do and she shook her head.
'I'm going with you.'
'To the locker room?'
She gave an abrupt nod. 'To the locker room.'
Ron regarded her uncertainly but made no comment as he led the way through the subterranean depths of the stadium. They entered a locker room that was ominously quiet. With the exception of their helmets, the players were fully dressed, and she felt as if she had stumbled into a land populated by titans. On the field, they were enormous, but trapped indoors wearing full battle gear, their size was truly awesome.
Some of them stood while others hunched on wooden benches with their knees splayed and hands dangling loosely from bent wrists. Bobby Tom and Jim Biederot sat on a long table at the side, their backs resting against the wall. All of their faces were grim as they listened to Dan speak.
'… we're playing our own game out there tonight. We're not going to win with field goals. We've got to win in the red zone. We've got to win in short-yardage situations…'
Dan was so intensely focused on his players that he didn't notice she and Ron had entered the locker room until he had finished.
Ron cleared his throat. 'Uhm… Miss Somerville wanted to stop by and wish all of you luck tonight.'
Dan's frown indicated that she was unwelcome. Forcing herself to ignore him, she pasted her brightest smile on her face and stepped into the middle of the locker room. She swallowed her self-consciousness and assumed a pinup pose that showed off her outfit. 'Hi, guys. What do you think? Pretty nifty, huh?'
Several of the men smiled, but she knew it was going to take more than a fashion show to cut through their tension. Although she was the last person to consider herself an authority on football, several facts seemed clear to her. The Stars had superb players and excellent coaching, but for some reason, they couldn't manage to hold on to the football. To her mind, that was a mental problem, not a physical one, and ever since yesterday's plane ride, she couldn't shake the idea that they wouldn't fumble so much if they could just relax a little and have fun.
She stepped up on one of the benches near the front so she could see everybody. 'Okay, guys, here goes. My first and-I sincerely hope-last locker room speech.'
Several of them smiled.
'I have complete faith in Coach Calebow. Everybody tells me that he's a wonderful football strategist and a great motivator of men. Besides, he's's-o-o-o cute.'
As she had hoped, they began to laugh. She didn't risk looking at Dan to see how he was receiving her teasing. Instead, she puckered her brow. 'Not that the rest of you aren't cute, too. Except for Webster. I've seen Krystal in action, and, believe me, I'm not even looking in Webster's direction.'
More laughter. Webster grinned and ducked his head in embarrassment.
Her own smile faded. 'What I want to tell you is this. If you win tonight's game, you'll make my life easier as far as the press is concerned, but, to be totally honest, beating the Giants is more important to all of you than it is to me. I mean, I can only get so worked up about a football game, and-'
'Miss Somerville…' The warning note in Dan's voice was plain.
She hastily went on. 'However, as incredible as it seems to me, I've actually gotten to like a few of you oversized bozos, and since all of you want to win so badly tonight, I'm going to tell you how to do it.'
Even though she was deliberately avoiding looking at Dan, she could feel those fierce green eyes boring holes right through her skin. Regardless of her position as team owner, this was his turf, and she had invaded it. Still, she went on. 'Coach Calebow has eons of experience, and I'm sure you should pay attention to everything he's told you. But if you'll do just this one little thing for me, I can practically promise you success.'
She could feel the anger rolling off Dan's body. He had spent the entire week working the team into a killing frenzy, and she was blithely undoing all his efforts. She had to set aside her own survival instinct so she could concentrate on the men, not an easy feat when he was standing so close. 'Tonight, gentlemen, when you line up on that field, I want you to do this.' She paused. 'I want you to pretend that the Giants are naked.'
They were staring at her as if she had lost her mind, which probably wasn't all that far from the truth. She heard a few nervous chuckles, and regarded the offenders with mock gravity.
'I am absolutely serious. When the Giants are lined up, just pretend that guy across from you, on the other side of the-' Her mind went blank, and she turned to Ron. 'What's that thing called?'
'The line of scrimmage?' Ron offered.
'Right. Pretend the guy across the line of scrimmage from you is naked. It'll work. Really. I promise you. It's a trick I learned in school to overcome stage fright. I mean how can you be seriously worried about getting beat by some guy who has his-uh-stomach hanging out?' She smiled brightly. 'So, for tonight… Think naked!'
For better or for worse, the tension in the locker room was gone. As the men's shoulder pads shook from their laughter, she knew she had accomplished her goal, and she finally allowed her own instinct for survival to kick in.
Jumping down from the bench, she made a dash for the door. 'I'll see all of you on the field.'
Unfortunately, Dan caught her before she could escape, and her courage flagged as she saw that his face was pale.
'You've gone too far, Phoebe. When the game is over, you and I are going to have it out for the last time.'
She swallowed hard and slipped past him.
Ron found her twenty feet down the hallway, where she'd collapsed against the wall.
Chapter 17
The Giants' defensive line was stunned the first time they took their positions at the line of scrimmage and found themselves staring through their masks at eleven grinning faces. None of them could figure out why a team with a one-and-four record was smiling unless they had a few dirty tricks tucked up their sleeves. The Giants didn't like surprises, and they definitely didn't like to see the opponents smiling.
Words were exchanged.
