Unknown - Driven_589066

progress halted halfway. Angered at the thought that her pushy bed mate had returned to embarrass her further, she swung around the door, ready to

raise hell.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

Pallas Dylan Lambert stood in the doorway like a vision from a fevered dream. Wearing black slacks, a crisply starched white shirt, and her everpresent

black leather trench coat, her glittering eyes were the only points of color to be seen.

Those eyes flicked past the frozen young woman to where Mac was standing, trying to cover his grin with the back of his hand. Dylan returned her gaze to

Hodge. An elegant eyebrow rose.

“May I come in?”

If Hodge hadn’t been holding onto the door, she would have collapsed into an undignified, boneless heap on the floor. This is just a dream. It has to be.

Because nowhere in any of Father McCarthy’s homilies did I ever hear him say that someone can be sent to heaven and hell at the same time.

Even though she knew it wasn’t true, just the possibility that all this might be the aftereffect of a night of boozing gave her the strength to straighten up

and release the door. She even managed a smile.

“Yes, please come in.” Her voice sounded human. This was good.

Ducking her head slightly, Dylan entered the room, quickly scanning the small space as she did so. Other than the disheveled bed, which could be

excused, the room was neat and well ordered, which told her a great deal about the woman living there.

Clearing his throat, Mac stepped to the side, presenting Dylan with an eyeful of…herself. Her image covered every inch of available space on the large

wall. The pictures captured every stage of her playing career, from her high school days through to the Olympics. There was even her rookie card,

autographed and released in such limited quantities that she’d heard it had become a rather valuable collector’s piece.

She looked back over her shoulder to see a deer caught in the headlights staring back at her. Dylan couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m impressed.”

Hodge found it hard to talk through the dryness in her throat. “I…you….” She sighed. “You’re my favorite player,” she finally admitted in a small voice,

wondering if it was physically possible to die from embarrassment.

Dylan decided to give the young woman a break. It was quite obvious that somehow the communications had crossed somewhere along the line and she

hadn’t been expecting them. Dylan also had a hunch that whatever had happened in this room before they’d entered, it wasn’t something that occurred on

a regular basis.

Decision made, Dylan crossed to the desk, pulled out the chair, and slid gracefully down into the seat so as to make herself less imposing to the much

smaller Catherine. “I watched you play on Thursday. You’re very good.”

Dylan thought, privately, that Catherine’s blush was rather charming, but elected to keep that particular bit of information to herself.

“Thank you,” Hodge replied, forcing herself to relax. “It was a lot of fun.”

Dylan smiled. “Fun. I seem to remember that feeling.”

Hodge cocked her head. “Basketball isn’t fun for you anymore?”

“It can be,” Dylan replied smoothly. “It’s also a good deal of work. Particularly when you’re striving for a championship.”

“Yes, I guess it would be.”

The room fell silent for a moment. Mac decided to spur the conversation along. “We were wondering if you were planning on attending pre-draft came in

Minneapolis this year.”

Hodge looked startled. “Well, yes, I was planning on going. Why? Is something wrong?”

Mac held up his hands. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just…as Dylan’s already mentioned, you were pretty impressive in that game against the Vols. Pre-draft

camp will give us, and everyone else, a chance to evaluate your skills under many different sets of circumstances.”

Hodge nodded. Mac wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know already.

“Not everyone participates, though,” Dylan continued. “Some don’t want to risk a chance of injury. Others believe that their selection is a foregone

conclusion.”

“Sort of like an actor who thinks he’s too good to audition for a part?” Hodge asked.

“Something like that, yes,” Dylan replied, grinning.

“Well, pardon me for saying so, but that just doesn’t make much sense.” Forgetting for a moment exactly who she was talking to, Hodge became much

more animated as her thoughts received free rein. “I mean, maybe it would if we were all professional superstars or something, but we’re not. We’re just

a bunch of college kids looking for a job, just like everyone else. I mean, if I didn’t have basketball and had to get by on my teaching degree, I really don’t

think I’d just walk into some elementary school somewhere and say ‘Hire me. I’m good.’”

Mac and Dylan looked at one another and broke out in identical grins. The young woman’s enthusiasm and openness were definitely points in her favor.

Realizing she’d just gone on a tear, Catherine pulled up short, and her blush appeared again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…um….”

Mac laughed. “That’s quite alright, Catherine. As you probably already guessed, one of the reasons we’re here is to get to know a little bit about you as a

person. The woman behind the basketball player, in other words.”

Hodge’s face fell. “Oh. I guess I didn’t do so well in that department,” she said, more to herself than to her two visitors.

Mac shot Dylan a “this one’s all yours” look. Dylan rolled her eyes and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “That’s not necessarily true.”

Hodge’s normally vibrant eyes were dull and clouded. “No? From where I’m standing it is. I mean, a professional basketball team goes out of its way to

send its head coach—who also happens to be somewhat of an idol of mine—and its general manager here to evaluate my personality. And here I am in

yesterday’s clothes, probably stinking like stale smoke and cheap booze, caught in my room with a woman whose name I don’t even know. If this doesn’t

go down in the record books as the worst first impression in history, I’m not sure what will.”

Dylan chuckled. “Well, I’ll admit that it isn’t the best one you could have made, no. But even under an enormous amount of pressure, you’ve managed to

acquit yourself surprisingly well. And that’s the kind of player we’re looking for. Someone who doesn’t crumble when the going gets tough. That kind of

person won’t lead a team to the championship.”

Hodge stared at her, wide-eyed.

“Besides, I get the impression that whatever happened here wasn’t a routine thing.”

Hodge couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You’ve got that right.”

Dylan’s gaze softened, as did her tone. “We all make mistakes. It’s how we learn. How you respond to those mistakes is what counts with me. And

frankly, I think you responded pretty well.”

“Really?” The awe was back in Hodge’s voice, but this time, she didn’t feel embarrassed.

Dylan smiled. “Really.” Shooting a quick glance to Mac, she stood. “We’ll see you at pre-draft camp, then?”

A radiant grin lit Hodge’s face. “You bet!”

Reaching out, Dylan gently clasped Hodge’s hand in her own. “It was very nice to have met you, Catherine. Thanks for letting us talk to you.”

Reveling in the warmth of the large hand, Hodge looked up and was caught in the mesmerizing blue of Dylan’s eyes. “No,” she breathed. “Thank you.”

With a final nod, Dylan released the handclasp, and with a look, collected Mac. A moment later, both were gone, leaving a completely stunned Catherine