It Had To Be You

mad, Jason. I have to do what Ronnie tells me. He gets all upset if I don't behave like a real businesswoman.'

Dan was grateful no one was paying any attention to him because he'd gotten dizzy from the altitude. He had to hand it to the kid, however. Ron leaned back in his chair with the smug look of a mafioso who had controlling interest in a concrete block company.

Keane's attitude underwent a subtle transformation, and he regarded Phoebe in a manner that was both unfriendly and patronizing. The thought passed through Dan's mind that Keane, for all his smarts, had better take care. Dan knew from past experience how easy it was to get suckered by these two con artists.

'I have to warn you that the whole thing sounds much too tentative to me. It's extremely doubtful the League would agree to a third pro team in the New York City area. If I were you, I wouldn't set my heart on moving the Stars to Manhattan.'

Phoebe gave the same giggle that only ten minutes earlier had set Dan's back teeth on edge. Now it sounded as musical as church bells. How could he ever have doubted her? Not only was she smart as a whip, but she had guts.

'That's exactly what Ronnie said,' she chirped, 'but I have a backup plan.'

'You do?'

She leaned closer. 'You wouldn't believe how much Baltimore wants its own NFL team. Ever since the-' She looked down the table at Dan, and he finally knew her well enough to recognize the glitter in her eyes. As he kept his expression inscrutable, his chest swelled with pride.

'What was the name of that team that left Baltimore?' she inquired.

'The Colts.'

'Right. Ever since the Colts left, Baltimore's been dying to get another team. And then there's Orlando.' An expression of pure bliss settled over her face. 'Those men are the sweetest guys in the world. Last week when we talked, they presented me with the cutest little Montblanc pen with gold mouse ears on it.' She gave a soft, Minnie-like squeal and sighed with pleasure. 'Oh, I just love Orlando. Their stadium site is right next to Disney World.'

Keane looked stunned.

'So you see, I do know how to be a tough businesswoman.' She slipped her napkin from her lap and stood. 'Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to make a trip to the little girls' room. And, Ronnie, you be civil to Jason while I'm gone. You've gotten everything you want, so you can afford to be gracious.'

As she walked away from the table, she took all of their eyes with her. The door shut.

Dan wanted to jump to his feet and give her a standing ovation. At that moment, he knew without doubt that he couldn't marry Sharon Anderson, and he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Phoebe filled his heart, not Sharon, and he was going to have to rethink everything. The future he'd been so certain about was now murky, a fact that should have depressed him. Instead, he experienced a surge of exhilaration.

Jason threw his napkin on the table, jumped to his feet, and rounded on Dan. 'I thought we were friends! What the hell is going on here?'

Dan concealed his elation with a shrug. 'It's front office business. I don't get involved.'

'Not even when your football team may end up wearing fucking mouse ears on their helmets!'

Dan set down his coffee cup and deliberately wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. 'Considering her past history, I think Baltimore's more likely. It's closer to Manhattan.'

Jason turned his anger on Ron. 'This is all your doing, McDermitt. You've manipulated that fucking birdbrain! My God, you're leading her around by the fucking nose!'

Ron's smile revealed the teeth of a baby shark. 'I've done what I had to, Keane. You've been screwing us over for years, and I finally found a way to stop you. Bert would never consider moving the team, but Phoebe doesn't have his sense of tradition, and it was quite easy to persuade her to look elsewhere. She has wonderful connections, you know, and I don't inquire too closely into how she's made them. One day she's on the phone with Trump. The next day with Disney. They've promised low rents, hefty concession percentages. They'll pick up the tab for security. I realize this will leave you with an empty stadium, but perhaps the Bears-'

'Fuck the Bears!' Keane shouted. 'Do you think I want McCaskey breathing down my ass?' His eyes traveled from Ron to Dan and back again. And then they narrowed suspiciously. He turned to his attorney. 'Stand outside the door and keep Phoebe occupied if she comes back. O'Brian, get Trump on the phone.'

Dan could see the flicker of alarm in Ron's eyes, and he couldn't suppress his own dismay. You gave it your best shot, Phoebe, he thought. Unfortunately, Keane wasn't as easily suckered in as he had been.

A heavy silence descended on the room as the men waited for the call to go through. After several moments of muted conversation, O'Brian passed the phone over to his employer.

Keane spoke into the receiver with false heartiness. 'Donald, it's Jason Keane. Sorry to interrupt your evening, but I'm tracing down an interesting rumor.' He walked over toward the fireplace. 'The word here is that you're thinking about building a stadium on that West Side land you own. If it's true, I might be interested in getting in on the action. Provided you have a team lined up.'

He gripped the receiver tighter in his hand as he listened. 'Is that so? No, I understand. I thought maybe the Jets… Really? Well, those things happen. Yes, indeed. Oh, certainly.'

There was a long pause.

'I'll do that. Of course. Good speaking with you, too.'

His face was gray as he slammed the phone to the cradle. 'The son of a bitch wants the Stars. He told me he's promised Phoebe a pink marble skybox. The bastard actually had the gall to laugh.'

Silence fell over the room.

Ron cleared his throat. 'Do you want me to get the names of the men she spoke with in Orlando and Baltimore?'

'Don't bother,' he snapped. Dan could almost see the wheels turning in Keane's well-oiled mind. 'Dan, I remember you admiring that antique George Low Wizard putter of mine. It's yours if you get Phoebe out of here.'

'I'm always happy to help out a friend,' Dan said slowly.

'And you.' Keane jabbed his finger at Ron. 'You're not going anywhere until we put together a new contract.'

Ron took his time selecting a cigar from the humidor that had arrived at the table along with the brandy. He rolled it between his fingers like a miniature Daddy Warbucks. 'It'll have to be an attractive offer, Jason. Very attractive. I rather like Orlando myself.'

'It'll be plenty attractive, you slimy son of a bitch!'

'Then let's deal.' Ron smiled as he slipped the cigar into the corner of his mouth. 'And Keane-Don't forget who's holding Trump.'

Chapter 20

'Are you sure you've told me everything that happened after I left?' Since the Ferrari's heater was going full blast, Phoebe's teeth weren't chattering from cold, but from an overdose of adrenaline.

'As close as I can remember.'

She still couldn't quite comprehend the amazing fact that right now, Ron and Jason Keane were in the process of renegotiating their stadium contract. She thought about her father and experienced an unfamiliar sensation of peace as she realized she'd never had anything to prove to him, only to herself.

The Ferrari bounced on a bump in the road and she suddenly became conscious of their rural surroundings. 'I thought you were taking me home.'

'I am. My home.'

'Why?'

'Because the last time I stopped by your house, Miz Molly was there along with three of her girlfriends. I don't think I ever realized what high-pitched voices four teenage girls have.' He glanced over at her. 'It occurs to me that