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at the back of the pack.”

“I’ve been hearing some talk about the little guard from the Huskies, Catherine Hodges. Any serious consideration being given to her?”

“I’d have to say she’s pretty much of a dark horse, Mark. She’s shown some good leadership skills down the stretch for UCONN, but her height is a real

disadvantage, and I think Dylan will go with a stronger player.”

“Doesn’t look like a long shot is in the cards today, huh?”

“Doesn’t look that way, Mark.”

Dylan snorted as she palmed the remote and shut the television off. After pushing through the crowd to reach the confines of the so-called “green room”,

the silence was a blessing. Sighing, she rested her head back against the comfortable couch and rubbed at her temples to forestall another headache. She

enjoyed the silence for a few moments before the door swung inward, admitting a tall, middle-aged, and attractive woman. Ryan Milton, coach of the

perennial powerhouse Tampa Bay Tropics, was a face well known to fans of women’s basketball, college and pro alike. She was a joy to watch, coaching

as she lived, with a frenetic intensity that earned her the nickname “Tampa Tornado”.

Crossing the room in long, easy strides, Ryan slumped down onto the couch beside Dylan and let out a loud sigh. “Place is a zoo,” she remarked in her

trademark low, raspy voice.

“And we’re the trained gorillas,” Dylan replied without opening her eyes.

“Speak for yourself,” Ryan retorted, chuckling. “I’m the Bengal Tiger.”

One eye, bearing a murderously teasing glint, was slowly revealed from beneath a once closed lid. “So, if I want you to perform, all I have to do is flick my

whip at you, hmm? I’ll keep that in mind.”

Dylan closed her eyes again, deliberately missing the slow, rosy flush that moved up from the “V” in Ryan’s blouse until it met the roots of her auburn hair.

Silence reigned once again.

After she was sure that her blush had gone away and any tremor in her voice would be fully concealed, Ryan turned to Dylan. “I’ve been authorized to

offer you Michelle Madison and both of our second round picks in exchange for your number one.”

Opening her eyes, Dylan slowly turned her head, capturing and holding Ryan’s gaze effortlessly.

Ryan swallowed hard. “C’mon, Dylan. You know Michelle is one of the better point guards out there. She’s a proven team leader, a great passer, and a

good scorer.”

Dylan held her silence, perversely enjoying the other woman’s discomfiture.

“I know who you’ve got your eye on, Dylan, and I can assure you, she’ll still be around in the second round. No one else is going after her. And this way,

you get a veteran who can teach her the ropes, and two high picks that you don’t have now.”

“You really want that center badly, don’t you,” Dylan said finally.

Ryan nodded. “Yes, I do. Badly enough to go to my boss and practically beg him to let me do this deal.”

Dylan was silent for a long moment, then stood. “I’m sorry, but you wasted your time, Ryan. No deal.”

Ryan stood up as well, yelling at the broad back presented her as Dylan headed for the door. “You’re wasting your pick, Lambert! That kid will turn out to

be the laughing stock of the league, and you’ll go down right along with her!!”

An enigmatic smile tossed over one shoulder was her only answer.

Hodge sat in the roped off area in the center of the room, waiting with the rest of the hopeful draftees for the show to begin.. She tried not to show how

nervous she really was. Never let ‘em see you sweat, she kept telling herself over and over as everything was readied to make the grand announcement.

Looking across the room, she smiled at the sight of her family, bunched protectively together. Her brothers, she could tell, were doing their very best to

behave, and while her mother looked pensive, her father was positively beaming.

Hodge stopped her foot from bouncing and begged whatever heavenly spirit might be listening to bring this torture to an end. As if in answer to her prayer,

the commissioner stepped up to the podium and, after shuffling his papers several times, began to speak.

Dylan stood waiting in the wings, tuning out the commissioner’s prepared speech. Her own short announcement was easily memorized, and all that was

left was to convince herself for a final time that her decision was the correct one. Not that she needed to. Dylan was nothing if not decisive. Instead, she

amused herself by picturing the crowd’s shocked reaction when she dropped her little bombshell. Unfelt, a smirk curled the corner of her mouth.

When the commissioner turned and caught her eye, she came back to the present and nodded to indicate her readiness to proceed. He gave her a quick

smile before returning his attention to the audience.

“And now that I’ve put you all to sleep with my opening remarks, I’ll try and wake you all back up by introducing the holder of the first pick in this year’s

draft. Representing the Birmingham Badgers, Ms. Pallas Dylan Lambert.”

The crowd erupted into loud, sustained cheering as Dylan made her way across the room to the podium. An entire constellation’s worth of flashes went off

simultaneously, capturing forever the image of their beloved Goddess.

Swept up in the crowd’s excitement, Hodge found herself standing with the rest, applauding for all she was worth and cheering herself hoarse. She

watched Dylan turn her head away from the cameras’ bright flashes, and at that moment, their eyes met, and locked.

For Hodge, the sounds around her faded beneath the loud hiss of blood in her ears. She knew she was still clapping, she could feel the motion in her arms,

but it was as if she was bringing two blocks of wood together repeatedly for all she could feel of her hands. There was something between them. She

could feel it, as if someone had stretched an invisible, thrumming wire from one to the other, connecting them in that one brief infinity in a way that was a

little frightening in its intensity.

Behind the podium, Dylan felt the same strange pull, not so much a physical reaction as one borne deep within her oft times buried emotions. She allowed

herself a brief moment to analyze the sensation, then quickly raised the walls she’d built to protect her from public scrutiny.

The applause finally died down, and the guests found their seats once again.

“Thanks for the welcome,” Dylan said, flashing the brilliant smile that had made the covers of untold numbers of magazines throughout the years. There

was some laughter and some cheering in response before the room quickly became quiet and filled with eager anticipation.

“On behalf of the Badgers, it is my pleasure to announce that the first pick of this year’s draft is…” She paused, looking around and enjoying the control

she had over the crowd. “Catherine Frances Hodges.”

Stunned silence filled the room for several long seconds. Then a murmur of disbelief rose up like fresh water bubbling in a tidal pool. Isolated, almost

hesitant applause, broke out and spread throughout the audience.

As if she were viewing events from within a tunnel, Hodge barely felt the congratulatory slaps her fellow draftees were bestowing on her. She felt herself

come to her feet, and briefly wondered if she might faint. Dylan’s expectant gaze lanced into her again, and she felt pulled forward by the strength of that

warm look alone.

Finally, though the distance she’d traversed seemed like miles rather than a few scant yards, she reached the podium and accepted Dylan’s firm