Playing For Keeps (3 page)

“Don’t forget to set up a meeting with Coach
Kingston before you leave,” Cavanaugh reminded her.

“For what?” Mike asked.

“As team liaison, you’ll work with Dr. Ross
on the Bulls’ inclusion into the Sports Studies program.”

“I thought I’d be workin’ with Jake Lansing.”
Mike had met the teacher he’d been told would direct Sports
Studies.

For some reason, that got Dr. Ross’s back up,
almost visibly. “Jake’s a teacher in my department, and though he
set up the curriculum, I’m in charge of the major. I’m the Business
Department chair. Everything has to be run by me.”

Hmm. “Run by you or approved by you?”

Cavanaugh slapped Mike on the back.
“Technically, approved, but I set the parameters with Lansing for
what we’re planning this fall and spring myself, and Jacelyn is in
agreement with them.”

Delicate shoulders stiffened even more.
Though tense, they looked great in the sundress she wore. “Of
course. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Want to say hello to Eric.
Hal?”

The man’s smile was smug. “I’d like that.” He
nodded to Cavanaugh. “Lew.” Now a smirk. “Coach.”

Mike watched them go. They walked close, like
a guy strolling with his best girl. Mike faced Cavanaugh. “Don’t
look like they’re hankerin’ to have the team on the campus,
President Cavanaugh.”

The president was frowning. “There’s been
flak about the Sports Studies program. My faculty is divided. Some
think it will be an easy major, and was instituted for purely
political reasons. Their attitude has carried over to the Bulls’
camp.” He sighed. “Sometimes colleges and universities are ivory
towers, Mike. The inhabitants can’t always see that change is
good.”

Mike was well acquainted with that attitude.
“Why’d
you
want us here?”

“The team or the program?”

“Both, I reckon.” Though the team being here
was a no-brainer.

“Well, the team making us their summer home
breathes life into the campus. Creates jobs. Gives us national
exposure.”

“Dr. Ross doesn’t understand that?”

“She’s more concerned about the academic
advisability of having athletes give talks and perhaps teach in the
Sports Studies program.”

Mike stiffened at the implication that guys
who played sports were stupid. “When will we be talkin’ about our
staff doing some teaching?”

“You and Jacelyn should decide it soon.”

“Can’t imagine that’ll go real smooth.” He
took a beer from a passing waiter.

“Jacelyn’s fair. Honest. More open-minded
than some.”

Like Professor Hal, Mike bet.

“She does have a couple of stumbling blocks
about the Sports Studies major—one deals with the Outreach Program
for disadvantaged kids that she heads. It provides a great deal of
scholarship money for students who can’t afford our steep
tuition.”

“Don’t you have a financial aid office to
take care of that?”

“Our official aid comes through that office,
but it’s limited because we’re a private institution and we depend
mostly on endowments. Jacelyn’s garnered a lot of support from the
community, from the Alumni Association, from grants and has managed
to get many more students here than the college could without her
Outreach Center.”

“So what’s the fire in her belly about
us?”

“Well, first, we gave the Sports Studies guys
and your team her Outreach office.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Her needs were small for such a big
space.”

“She got a place for her project though,
right?” He didn’t like the idea of booting out a charity group.

“Yes.” Cavanaugh glanced at the crowd.
“There’s more, but I don’t want to go into it now.” He stared at
Mike. “She’s a good department chair and an excellent teacher. And
she’s brilliant, so that helps. A little sweet-talking wouldn’t
hurt, though. From what I hear, you Southern gentlemen are good at
that.”

He bet Dr. Ross wouldn’t like Cavanaugh’s
comment. After the president was pulled aside by someone else, Mike
scanned the area and saw her across the way eating from a small
plate and smiling at the man she’d been hugging earlier at the
field. Probably her husband. Since he believed in the old sports
adage that the best defense was a good offense, he headed toward
her. “Hi, y’all,” he said, summoning some of that Southern
charm.

“Mike.” She glanced at the other guy. “This
is Eric Ross. My brother.”

“I’m a big fan, Coach.”

Well, that would help. “Of the team?”

“Yeah, and of you. Jacey’s son and I followed
your college and NFL career religiously.”

Now there was a shocker. A little devil
pushed inside him. “You, too, Dr. Ross?”

Eric chuckled. “Nah, Jacey here doesn’t know
a first down from a penalty.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.” She smiled
sweetly—too sweetly—at him. “Though I would rather read a good book
than waste an afternoon zoning out in front of the TV.”

He was insulted by that but tried not to show
it. “Me, too. Don’t think Bulls fans ever zone out, though.”

Eric laughed aloud. Clearly
Jacey
didn’t get it. “What?” she asked.

Mike grinned. “The Bulls Brigade are a might
rowdy. And active.”

“Yeah, remember the time you were mobbed
after you caught that seventy-yard pass and took it into the end
zone just as the clock ran out?”

“Against the Broncos. Man, that made my heart
stop.”

Mike listened while Eric recounted a few more
stories; stealing a glance at Jacelyn, he could see she was more
than bored. But she was pretending she wasn’t. For her brother. It
made him like her. He thought of his own brothers. Though he’d
always felt inferior to them intellectually, he loved them and
would do anything for them. Because of that, he said, “I think your
sister’s eyes are glazing over.”

“Don’t stop. Eric loves professional
sports.”

“You live here?” Mike asked the guy.

“Yeah, across the city.”

“Wanna have a beer sometime? We can shoot the
breeze about sports then.”

Soft approval shone on Jacelyn’s face. It
made Mike’s gut feel funny.

“Don’t get me wrong, that would make my day.”
Eric grinned. “But we may be seeing a lot of you anyway, and your
son.”

Jacelyn cocked her head. “I don’t
understand.”

“Didn’t Kyle tell you?”

“No, I haven’t seen him since we were at the
field today.”

“He’s one of three students up for a job with
Coach here, for his summer assignment.” Eric nodded to Mike. “The
Coach is interviewing him tomorrow to take care of his
seven-year-old son.”

Now Mike was confused. “No, there’s gotta be
some mistake. I’m fixin’ to interview somebody named Worthington.
My assistant picked him and two others for me to talk to from a ton
of resumes.”

A huge sigh from Jacelyn. “That’s my son.
Kyle Worthington. He has his father’s last name.”

“You don’t?”

“I’m divorced.” She faced him. “Your wife
won’t be watching your son, Mr. Kingston?”

“I’m not married.”

“I see.” Her tone was indifferent. Not the
usual reaction he got from attractive women when they found out he
was single.

But of course, she was more than attractive.
She was
brilliant.
And she obviously considered him and
his cohorts dumb jocks.

Not much bothered him at this point in his
life after the success and financial security he’d achieved, but
being considered a no-brain athlete still got to him. It had been
his Achilles’ heel since the first time he’d picked up a pigskin
and found magic between it and his hands. Though he loved football,
he hated being considered a stupid athlete and had worked hard in
high school, and especially in college, to thwart that image.
Still, it had been almost impossible to un-ring that bell.

Damn it, he’d thought this issue was dead and
buried. He hadn’t expected to encounter it in a place where he
hoped eventually to teach.

President Cavanaugh’s office overlooked the
southern part of the campus, which was tree-lined and verdant,
typical of July in upstate New York. The stately interior sported
hardwood floors covered by antique carpets, and walls displaying
every president of Beckett since 1907 when the college had been
founded by an order of Basilian monks. Jacelyn had been here many
times and appreciated the aesthetic ambience and collegiate
atmosphere; the rest of the campus reflected that—or at least it
had before the arrival of the Bulls. Even though the camp hadn’t
opened yet, there was a buzz of activity around the school
reminiscent of an amusement park.

“Jacelyn, sorry to keep you waiting. I was at
lunch with the mayor.” Calm and composed, Lew Cavanaugh strode
confidently into his office. He was a tall man with a shock of
white hair and a wise face.

“No problem.” She’d taken a chair opposite
his desk and he sat behind it. She liked his professionalism: he
always wore a suit, no matter what the time of year, he positioned
himself behind his desk at a meeting and, though he was friendly
and congenial, he rarely shared anything personal with his staff.
It just didn’t fit with...

“What are you thinking? You just
frowned.”

She smoothed down the skirt of her pinstripe
suit “May I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I was thinking about your professionalism.
You have a reserved formality that suits you and the college
well.”

Gray brows knitted over shrewd eyes. “Is that
a compliment?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then why the scowl?”

“Your attitude, your old-school demeanor,
doesn’t fit with what’s happened on campus this year.”

“A good segue into why I asked to meet with
you today.”

“Really?”

“You’ve made no secret that you disapprove of
the Sports Studies program I pushed for.”

“You asked—”

Lew held up his hand, palm out. “Let me
finish. You voiced your objections, but when you were overridden by
me and two-thirds of the department chairs, you gave in gracefully.
I respect that. Unfortunately, you’re the one working with these
guys, and you bear the brunt of our decision.”

“I told you then that I won’t let personal
feelings interfere with doing my job.”

“Nothing less than what I expect. Still, I
wish I could convince you that this is in the best interest of the
college.” He steepled his hands. “Did you know tours for
prospective students are up fifty percent?”

“No, I didn’t know that. It’s quite a
jump.”

“And early-decision applications rose by
almost half, too.”

“I realize the training camp gives us
national visibility.”

“Not all those declaring majors are in Sports
Studies.”

“I’m glad you were right on this.” Her smile
was genuine. “Truly. I want Beckett to grow. I love this
college.”

“You graduated from here, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Came here on an academic scholarship, if I
remember.”

Jacelyn crossed her legs. “It’s why I’m so
enthusiastic about the Outreach Center.” Watching him, she asked,
“Lew, why did you want to talk to me today?”

“Well, not all the news is good. The final
numbers for next year are in. Enrollment in some of your business
courses is down.”

“Really?” Her heart rate speeded up.
Enrollment was a huge deal. It meant a department was flourishing
or stagnant. It meant a chair was successful or not. It meant loss
of income for faculty.

“I’m surprised. Last year we had more courses
than we could handle. We had to hire two adjuncts.”

“I know.” His gaze was searching. “You’re
blaming this on the Sports Studies program.”

“Yes, I am. Do you see any other reason?”

“Actually, no. There’s always some shifting
when we put new programs in place. It evens out in a few semesters.
I’m not worried about it.”

“You’ll have a difficult time convincing the
teachers who lose their full load that it’s no big deal.”

“I have meetings today with everyone who’s
affected.” Lew drew in a breath. “Look, I didn’t want this to
happen. But it has. We’ll deal with it.”

“You wanted the Sports Studies program to
happen.”

“Yes, I did. Not at the expense of your
traditional business courses, though.”

“What about other departments? You expected
they’d benefit by teaching electives for Sports Studies.”

“That did happen. Millie Smith’s not only
teaching Sports Psychology, but has two sections. Theo’s Ethics of
Sports is a go. Hal’s Anatomy and Physiology is overflowing.” He
leaned over and braced his arms on his desk. “I know it’s a blow
about the numbers in business. But this is all going to shake out
in the end.”

“So you keep saying.” Jacelyn settled back
into the leather chair, struggling to be fair. “Maybe you’re right.
I’ve seen fluctuation in the courses before. And other departments
have gone through this. It happened when we instituted the teaching
degree.”

“I’d like to hear that this turn of events
won’t further alienate you. I need your support of the
program.”

Anger sparked inside her. “As I said,

I’ll do my job.”

“Of course you will. But we both know
department chairs wield a lot of power. I’m fully aware Hal
Harrington opposed the nutrition course that would have been
perfect for Sports Studies.”

“Eating to Win?”

“Yes. He roadblocked it by subtly influencing
his people to discourage their advisees from taking it
Consequently, enrollment was down too low to offer it to the Sports
Studies majors. I’ve spoken with him about his actions.”

Hal hadn’t told her. Oh, she knew he didn’t
want the course to be part of his curriculum—he thought it
superficial and foolish—but she was shocked that he’d sabotaged
it.

“I wouldn’t want that to happen in your
department, since the Sports Studies major is under your
auspices.”