“I admit I had my reservations when Director Samlin put your name forward,” the chancellor said, folding his hands atop the immaculate leather blotter protecting his antique desk. He peered at Danny over the tops of his half-moon glasses. “I’ll also admit that I’m not the least bit shocked that you managed to violate the terms of your contract within mere months of signing.” The man’s already thin lips tightened to the point where they almost disappeared. “I have been in contact with our legal advisors, and I am told that we would be completely within our rights to terminate your association with Wolcott University.”
Danny shifted his weight from one foot to another, swallowing a lump of red-hot anger along with another hunk of his pride. He was being called out on the carpet—literally—by a man he could pound to a pulp, but if he wanted to keep his job and keep Kate, all he could do was stand there and take it. Looking down at the Persian rug beneath his feet, he counted down from five before attempting any response.
“Yes, sir. I believe you are.”
Chancellor Martin rose from his glove-leather chair and turned toward the windows that looked down on the campus green. He stared into the distance, letting the silence loom large in the room. Danny glanced at Mike, who simply shook his head.
“Why shouldn’t I?”
Danny jumped, startled not so much by the suddenness of the question as the unexpected challenge behind it. “Why shouldn’t you?”
The man turned to look at him, a smug smile curving his lips. “Yes. Why shouldn’t I terminate your contract?” He spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if he were being forced to converse with the village idiot.
Anger and adrenaline zipped through him. Standing taller, Danny looked the man square in the eye. “Because I’m the best thing to ever happen to this school’s football program. Because I’m your best shot at making this school something other than the laughingstock of the Mid-Continental Conference.”
Scorn replaced the man’s supercilious smirk. “And you think that’s truly important here?”
Mike chose that moment to step in and smooth the waters. “Chancellor Martin, improving our standing within the conference would mean an increase in television coverage and increased visibility in recruiting.”
The chancellor didn’t even glance in his athletic director’s direction. His gaze remained pinned on Danny. “And those are the things you believe are truly important here?”
Before Danny could answer, Mike jumped in again. “All of those things provide more scholarship oppor—”
The chancellor cut him off. “We have alumni who are more than generous when it comes to providing academic scholarships.” At last, he spared Mike a quick glance. “Let’s be clear. You’re concerned with providing opportunities for athletic scholarships.”
“Yes,” Mike replied stiffly. His resigned expression told Danny this wasn’t the first time he’d gone a couple of rounds with his boss on the topic. “Athletic scholarships can be just as important to a school’s vitality as their academic counterparts.”
Danny cocked his head, fascinated. For the first time since he arrived on campus, he was getting a clear vision of how deep the divide between athletics and academics at Wolcott actually ran.
“Sir, the two are not mutually exclusive,” Mike continued. “Many student athletes excel academically. No one expects Wolcott to lower their standards—”
“It will be a cold day in hell,” Chancellor Martin interrupted. “Which is why I’m holding you to yours, Mr. McMillan.”
The word mister hit Danny like a slap in the face.
Chancellor Martin sat back down on his throne and pivoted to look directly at Danny. “I can certainly understand the…attraction you might feel toward Coach Snyder,” he said.
“Sir, it’s more than attraction—”
The older man held up a hand to stop him. “I do not care to hear the details. It doesn’t matter to me if the ghost of Howard Cosell himself came to you in a dream and told you to pursue Coach Snyder.” He sniffed as if the notion itself were too much to bear contemplating. “Here at Wolcott, we hold our people to a higher standard, whether they are students, faculty, or staff. We expect our leaders to be beyond reproach, and unlike the leaders of many other institutions of higher education, I do not believe it is wrong for us to do so.” He fixed his gaze on a crystal paperweight engraved with the university’s motto. “I will not allow the integrity of Wolcott University to be compromised in any way. I will not allow these hallowed halls to be tainted by scandal and sensationalism.”
Once again, Chancellor Martin folded his hands and looked up over the rims of his glasses. “But I am a fair man. I will give you the opportunity to rectify this situation.”
“Rectify the situation?” Puzzled, Danny looked to Mike, but his friend’s expression remained unreadable. “Rectify it how? Kate Snyder and I are in a relationship. A wholly consensual relationship, at that,” he added with a meaningful glance at Mike.
As if he’d been waiting for his cue, Samlin stepped forward. “Coach Snyder has made it clear to me that her future happiness here at Wolcott may hinge on Coach McMillan’s continued employment as the university’s head football coach.”
Chancellor Martin’s white eyebrows shot up. “Are you implying that Coach Snyder intends to blackmail the university into keeping her…boyfriend on staff?”
“No,” Danny snarled.
“I’m simply reminding you that Coach Snyder’s contract is currently under negotiation,” Mike said implacably. “I’ve given you her salary expectations. I’m also letting you know that money alone may not be the deciding factor in bringing those negotiations to a mutually agreeable close.”
“She thinks she can blackmail us into keeping him on,” the chancellor repeated. Turning his full attention to Danny, he sat a little straighter in his high-backed chair. “She is wrong,” he stated flatly. “Mr. McMillan, you have until five o’clock this evening to decide whether you wish to continue your affiliation with Wolcott University.”
The statement was bold and blatant, but Danny wasn’t about to leave that room until he was clear on the terms and conditions attached to that decision. “So you’re saying that I either end my relationship with Coach Snyder or I’m fired?”
Chancellor Martin inclined his head. “Precisely.”
Though his insides were churning like a cement mixer, Danny felt the corner of his mouth kick up ever so slightly. Looking his boss’s boss directly in the eye, he returned the courtly nod. “And now who’s resorting to blackmail?”
He couldn’t get out of the wood-paneled office fast enough. Desperate for a gulp of fresh air, he pivoted on his heel and marched out of the office.
* * *
Mike caught up to him as he hooked a sharp right in the corridor, heading straight for the doors. “Wait,” his friend huffed. “Danny, wait!”
He didn’t stop or slow or even turn his head. “No need to wait, Mike.” He hit the crash bar on the door with both palms, sending it flying. “I told you which I’d choose, and I meant it.”
“Just don’t…” The athletic director’s polished wingtips skidded along concrete, but Mike hooked a hand around Danny’s arm, and his grip was as sure as ever. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
Danny turned on his friend. “The only thing I’d regret would be losing Kate.”
“You seem so sure about that. How can you be so sure?”
Danny searched his old friend’s expression but found only genuine concern and more than a little perplexity. A spear of warmth sliced through him. Smiling down at Mike, he shook his head, letting a little of his own wonderment show through the bravado that propelled him out of the chancellor’s office.
“We’re not twenty anymore, Mikey,” he said gently. “I’ve had enough of what I don’t want to know a good thing when I’ve got it.” A rueful smile twitched his mouth. “Jobs are easy to get. Women like Kate are one of a kind.”
“But jobs like this…” Mike had the good grace to grimace when Danny’s brows lifted in an unspoken challenge. “D-one jobs, I mean.” He paused for a second, then threw his hands up in frustration. “Where else are you going to have a chance to make an impact like you can here? You’re already having an impact,” he asserted. “And yeah, the program might not be a coach’s dream, but look what you’ve done in just a couple of months.”
“I choose Kate.” Damn, it felt good to say that. The truth. His truth, simple and easy. Feeling lighter than he had in weeks, Danny started toward the athletic center.
“But even if you choose her, you lose her.” Mike hustled to keep step. “No matter what she says, Kate won’t leave here. This is her home. Her house. She built this place.” He jogged a few steps, then turned to face Danny, doing a little hop-skip to stay a stride ahead. “I know what she said, but Danny, do you really think she’d leave it all for you?”
For the first time since he walked out of Martin’s office, Danny’s step faltered.
Of course, Mike was sharp enough to catch his hesitation. “I know you took this job just to get a toehold, but coaching football at Wolcott is pretty much like being handed a blank check. You’ve got guys like Dick Donner waving wads of money around, and all they want to see is some marginal improvement.” He stopped walking and planted his hands on Danny’s shoulders, bringing him to a halt as well. “You know the expectations that come with other D-one coaching jobs. You won’t get this opportunity anywhere else.”
Danny eyed his friend closely. “Do you really think I don’t know that?”
“If you let Martin shit-can you, no one else will touch you.” Mike’s jaw tightened. “We both know any interest will dry up.”
Shaking his head, Danny let a slow smile unfurl as he savored the vehemence of Mike’s argument. He had to admit it was damn nice to have someone fighting for him for a change. “You know as well as I do that’s bullshit. There’s always someone willing to scrape the bottom of the barrel.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re tying you career choices to a woman who has every option.”
“That’s exactly the point,” Danny shot back, jumping on the one bit that neither could dispute. Kate had choices, and she chose him. “Who says she has to follow me? What if I follow her?”
“Jesus Christ, listen to yourself!”
“I am,” Danny said calmly. “You’re the one who’s not getting it.”
“There’s not a whole lot to get. Even if she were willing to move on, what makes you think you’ll end up even close to each other? What then? You looking forward to Saturday nights spent having Skype sex with your kick-ass girlfriend?”
Danny refused to be ruffled. Swallowing his impatience, he stared down one of the few friends who’d stuck with him through thick and thin. “Kate loves me.”
Mike pushed a hand through his hair as he exhaled his exasperation. “Points for that, but this is one of those instances where the love of a good woman isn’t going to save you.”
Clapping his old friend on the shoulder, Danny shrugged. “I appreciate the effort, but I’m not looking to be saved.”
“At least take the time. Think about it. Talk to Kate about it,” Mike implored. “Maybe you can agree to…cool things down—”
“Hell no.”
“—just for a while.”
“Not going to happen.”
Mike growled his frustration. “Talk to Kate,” he repeated, teeth clenched. “At least she has some sense.”
Danny treated his friend to a self-deprecating smirk. “Not as much as you’d think, given the fact that she fell for me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m hoping she’ll snap out of it when she figures out she might get saddled with another loser head-coach wannabe.”
Danny’s head snapped back like he’d just been horse-collar tackled. Mike’s earnest brown eyes filled with horror as the words sank in.
“Oh, man,” Mike murmured. “I’m sorry. That was low.”
Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out, Danny took a step back and cut a wide swath around the athletic director, his eyes fixed on the athletic complex at the far end of the quad. “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll be sure to do that.”
* * *
Danny was relieved to find the track empty when he stepped out of the locker room but surprised to see members of the marching band stomping all over the infield. The kids were dressed in shorts and tees—a far cry from the heavy, dark uniforms they’d wear in the fall. Instead of carrying their instruments, they each held an electronic tablet. He paused beside the bleachers to stretch, his curiosity piqued by the odd syncopation of their steps. From his vantage point, they looked like a writhing mass of bodies, but judging from the ecstatic cry of, “Yes! That’s it! Back to the transition!” that boomed from the PA system, something must have worked when viewed from above.
He straightened from a hamstring stretch in time to see the group disintegrate into even more chaos. Spotting a few of the drumline guys standing off to the side, he started toward them at a trot. “What’s going on, fellas?”
The guys jumped, but then one of them hitched his harness a little higher and smiled. “Hey, Coach. We’re just practicing some new choreography.”
Danny’s brow puckered. He didn’t normally pay much attention to the nonathletic elements of the game, but he’d always appreciated the marching band. Though some of these kids might never have touched a ball in their lives, they were an integral part of the college football experience.
“Don’t you guys get the summer off?”
The boy smiled and shrugged. “Some of it. We have competition in two weeks, then we’ll come back early to start rehearsals for the halftime shows.”
Danny affected a fierce scowl. “Is that so? Well, I guess I’ll need to get those slackers on my team back for two-a-days even earlier. I can’t have the band running circles around the defensive line, can I?”
The boy snorted and tapped his sticks against the rim of his drum. “Yeah, Coach, better get ’em back.”
Nodding to the two others, Danny shook out his arms and legs. “Well, I’d better get to it, or you’ll be running over me too. Give me a little something to set the tempo, will ya?”
One of the other boys grinned and started to tap out a beat so slow, a metronome would have outpaced it.
“Christ, I’m not that old,” Danny growled, and he set off at a respectable trot. The drummers soon caught on, and after he circled the track once, their beat forced him to pick up the pace.
It took a full mile to fall into just the right cadence. His rhythm section was called back to duty on the next lap, and he loped along for another mile. It pained him to admit it, but the braces he wore on both knees actually did provide more stability. By the time he passed the five-mile mark, he was drenched in sweat and flying high. When he passed the bleachers again, a pretty, dark-haired lady dressed in a pale-blue pantsuit let loose with a wolf whistle that would have done a construction crew proud.
He slowed to a trot but didn’t double back until he reached the curve. By the time he made it to Kate, she was leaning against the rail on the bleachers. A hint of white lace showed just above the top button on her suit. He wanted to dive in and see exactly how much lace there was.
“Whistling at a guy like that can get you into trouble,” he huffed as soon as they were within talking distance.
She gave him that smug Mona Lisa smile that made him want to rip the buttons right off her neat little jacket. She leaned over and whispered, “Maybe I’m looking for trouble.”
“Well, then you came to the right place.” The last thing he wanted to do was tell her what went down in the chancellor’s office. Hoping to distract her, he lifted the hem of his shirt and blotted the sweat from his forehead. Sure enough, he caught her ogling when he let the shirt drop, so he pressed his advantage. “You free tonight?”
“For a hot date?”
“Yep.”
She gave a regal nod and straightened to her full height. “I just have to decide what to wear.”
“I vote for nothing.”
“One vote doesn’t make it a consensus.”
Bracing his forearms on the metal crossbar, he leaned in to give his calf muscles a good stretch. “Are we having this relationship by committee?”
“Seems that way sometimes. How much oxygen did you have to give Mike after I left?”
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Avery wants to know if there was mouth-to-mouth involved, but I don’t think you should answer that. I think she’s just being a pervert.”
“I think so too.”
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Does it involve what you will or will not be wearing to dinner?”
“Not in the least.”
“Okay, but just for the record, I don’t see myself ever changing my vote.”
“Ever?”
Planting the sole of his sneaker on a rusty metal bar, he lunged for the rail where her hands rested and grabbed hold. The muscles in his shoulders, back, and arms trembled as he hauled his bulk up until his chin cleared the rail. “Never,” he growled.
“Show-off.”
“A guy has to showboat when there’s a pretty girl watching.”
“Then you must be worn out.”
“I only do it for you.”
Her lips curled into that too-tempting smile, but she stepped back. “I have to get changed and get some work in with the girls. Ty’s been covering some time for me, but I’m usually pretty hands-on with my camps.”
He stole a glance at her. She didn’t know he’d met with the chancellor. Couldn’t know. If she did, she would have been all over him about it. But the meeting wouldn’t remain a secret for long. Millie most likely had the man’s phones tapped and office bugged. He couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Mike and I met with Chancellor Martin. They’re giving me until five o’clock today to decide.”
She froze. “Decide what?”
“You or the job.”
Kate gasped, then exhaled a soft, “Oh, Danny.”
“I already told them I choose you.”
She shook her head so hard, her hair tangled in her lashes and the glossy lipstick she wore. “Danny, no.”
Unable to resist, he pulled himself up for a kiss, sealing those dark strands into place. “Kate, yes.”
She gripped the rail so hard, her knuckles turned white.
Dropping back to the track, he ran his palm over them, letting the sharp ridges wedge their way into the soft center. “My agent is working on it. I have options, but giving you up isn’t one of them.”
“Can’t you try to stall them? Maybe Millie can work some magic,” she urged.
“She’ll be busy prepping for the press conference.”
She blinked. “What press conference?”
Giving her a tired smile, he shrugged. “The one where they spew some bullshit about how this wasn’t the fit we were looking for and that we’ve mutually agreed I should move on down the road.” Wiping his brow with his sleeve, he squinted up at her. “You want to watch at your place or mine?”
Her jaw tightened. “That’s it? You’re just quitting?”
Danny stiffened. “I’m not quitting. I’m being fired. Again.” Planting his hands on his hips, he hit her with his best “my decision is final” glare. It bounced off her like a jump shot with no air under it.
“We’ll see about that.”
“Just what do you think you’re going to do?”
Kate balled her fists and dug them into the sweet spot just above her hip bones. God, he loved that spot. Loved putting his hands in that exact place and holding her tight as he sank into her.
“Believe it or not, some people think I have a little pull around here.”
The sneer in her tone yanked him straight out of his daydream. “Kate, I don’t want you doing anything to jeopardize your negotiations.”
“They’re my negotiations. I’ll jeopardize them if I damn well want to.”
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again. Arguing wouldn’t get him anywhere with her. Instead, he leapt for the rail again, this time using every bit of momentum he could muster to haul himself over it. The soles of his shoes slapped the aluminum decking so hard the impact rang out, reverberating through his body. Kate swayed toward him. Instinctively, he cupped her elbow to steady her.
She stared at him blankly for a moment. Then looked down at their feet.
A smile tugged at the corners of Danny’s mouth when he saw that he once again stood toe-to-toe with his warrior. And as usual, she wasn’t about to back down.
He tried to clear the lump from his throat before he spoke, but his voice still sounded gruff and embarrassingly emotional. “I don’t want you to sacrifice one scrap of what you’ve worked for because of me.”
She stared back at him. “I don’t intend to.”
“Then what are you planning?”
Wetting her lips, she gazed past him at the marching band on the field. “I guess it’s time to round up our team.”
“Our team?”
The enigmatic smile she wore matched the calculating gleam in her eye. “I have to get back and make my campers happy. Meet me at my place at five.”
“Your place?”
“You should know it by now. You’re practically a squatter,” she said, lifting both brows in challenge as she eased away.
“I can’t believe I’m asking this, but…what exactly are we going to do at your place?”
“Work on strategy.”
“Strategy? There is no—”
She silenced him with a finger pressed to his lips. “I want to see how you are with the pick and roll outside the bedroom.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You think I can’t play ball?”
Her smile turned saucy, and she flicked her hair over her shoulder, like she’d scored a point off him. “Oh, I know you can. But the buzzer hasn’t sounded yet, Coach.”