Chapter 4

Lauren came back to her apartment on Thursday night. She found Vanessa, wearing her sleeping tee, cuddling with Jimmy in the couch. Jimmy was topless and was wearing Vanessa's pajama boxer. They were apparently taking a break from their lovable activity. The TV was showing a Knicks game. They greeted Lauren.

"Why so late?" Jimmy asked her.

"I'm taking up additional hours," Lauren said. "Half time?"

"Beginning forth quarter," Jimmy said, smiling. "And I'm waiting for a replacement off the bench. Ouch!" He groaned when Vanessa was apparently giving his crotch some hard time.

Lauren giggled with Vanessa. "What's the score?" she said as she went to sit beside her roommate.

"Trailing by five," Vanessa said. "Your guy is two rebounds and an assist from his second triple-double."

"Is Rick on the starting line-up?" Lauren asked.

"No," Jimmy said. "But he played more minutes than Jerry, much more."

"I wonder why they won't put him on the starting line-up."

"They usually put the more experienced guy for that," Jimmy said. "Unless he's a star player. Oh." He sighed when the audience in the TV jeered as a Knicks player missed a jumper.

"Yes, pass, idiot! Fuck!" He bawled when the Knicks grabbed the rebound but made a shot way off the mark.

Lauren saw Rick tossing his sweat and went over to crouch in front of the scoring table.

"Your guy's coming in," Vanessa said.

Lauren poked Vanessa in the waist. "He's not my guy," she said.

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "It's so gusty this morning the wind blew away my sweater," she said, then turned to Jimmy. "Or did you take it off?"

"Stop it," Lauren said, blushing. She poked Vanessa again.

"Are you sure she wasn't moaning when you saw them on the floor?" Jimmy asked Vanessa, while glancing at Lauren.

Lauren reached over and slapped him in the head. "Stop it, Jerk!" she said to Jimmy as the Knicks called a time-out.

"You know," Jimmy said, returning his attention to the game. "We have the worst starting line-up in the entire league. We have a good B-team, and an even better C-team. Isn't that stupid?"

"Who's on the C-team?" Lauren said.

"Diesel," Jimmy said. "Peanut, and of course, your Rick. Your Rick, your Rick."

Lauren laughed. "Shut up!" she said, "Diesel isn't that good."

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "He can't shoot, he can't run, but he's like a bull, he hustles. He'll throw his body at you whenever you're in the paint. It doesn't matter if you're kicking him in the balls, he'll go grab that rebound, and dunk it even with your elbow in his face."

"What about Peanut, then?" Lauren said. "He can't shoot either, and he's so small."

"Wait until you see him without his pants."

Lauren and Vanessa both bent down laughing. "He'd been in your ass?" Vanessa struggled to say.

"Actually," Jimmy said. "He's okay in shooting, 39% from downtown is okay. Not everyone can make 60% plus like your guy does. He's all hustle, he's everywhere, and he does all those little things that won't show on the stat sheets. But what's best is when he's on the floor with your guy. He's one of the small players who can play a screen well, especially for your guy. He gets your guy the path to drive in, and give him the half second needed to make a shot."

"Oh, okay," Lauren said, "Hey, I'm going to grab a drink. What do you guys want?"

"Is there still any beer in the fridge?" Jimmy said.

"What happened?" Lauren asked when she came out of the kitchen with beers in her hand.

"Your guy's fouled when he was driving in," Vanessa said.

"I think it's a mis-call," Jimmy said. "See? The commentators agree. Rick was hit by Kenny, not by them. Oh, a Technical to Johnson, too. Well, never hurts to have a few free buckets."

"That's the second Technical for Johnson," Vanessa said, "Isn't it?"

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "See? He's walking out now."

Lauren saw Rick going to the line. He missed the Technical Foul free throw badly.

"The shot is so way off," Jimmy said, turning over to Lauren. "It's like he missed it on purpose."

"I think he missed it on purpose," Lauren said after a while.

"Why? What's wrong with him? We need that basket. See? They're calling a time-out. I think George Lamont is going to beat the crap out of your guy."

"I think it's about fair game," Lauren said slowly. "Yeah, I know it doesn't exist in the NBA."

"Fuck fair game," Jimmy said angrily. "They need this fucking basket, they need this fucking game!"

Lauren saw the head coach sticking his finger at Rick's nose, and then waving his hands as he talked to the players.

The game went on, and then it was less than a minute on the clock. The Knicks were trailing by six.

"Do you think they have a chance, Jim?" Vanessa said.

"Hard to tell," Jimmy said. "Oh, fuck." He groaned in a depressing tone as the home team sank a 3-pointer.

Lauren saw Rick hit a 3-pointer. Peanut then made a steal and dropped in a jump shot. The Knicks were trailing by four. Lauren checked the clock on the TV screen. Less than eight seconds were left on the clock.

"They need to make a fast bucket," Jimmy said. "And then go for a steal or a foul, and hope they miss the shots, and then another fast bucket. If your guy hadn't made that fucking fair game miss, we would've been in a better position."

A few seconds later Rick was fouled near half court, before he got anywhere near to shooting range.

"The game's over," Jimmy said in a frustrated tone as the Knicks called their final time-out. He stared at Lauren, as if it was her fault. "Do you know how much I want to beat the crap out of your fucking guy now?" he said.

"We can still force an overtime," Lauren said. "He makes the first, purposely misses the second, gets the rebound, gets out to behind the arc, and makes a three."

Jimmy laughed with sarcasm. "Yeah," he said. "How perfect! Who do you think he is? Reggie Miller? AI? I don't even think either of them can make it."

Lauren didn't respond. When the commercials were over, she saw Rick nodding as his head coach talked. Rick went slowly to the line when the time-out was over. The home court audience was booing loudly at him.

Rick made his first shot. The second shot hit the side of the rim and bounced off strongly to the side, over the heads of the players by the paint. Rick ran over to grab the ball and dashed towards the sideline as the clock was winding down. Rick turned around and sank in a 3-pointer to silent the home court audience. Then they heard the buzzer.

"Oh my fucking goodness," Jimmy screamed. "Oh my fucking goodness." He held Vanessa forcefully in his arms, and then kissed her madly in the face.

"I said he could do it," Lauren said, smiling, after Jimmy had finished pecking her cheek.

The overtime belonged to the Knicks. The buzzer beating shot Rick made had demolished the home team's morale. They won by ten at the end.

Lauren went into her room as Vanessa and Jimmy went for their unfinished business. She lay in her bed waiting for Rick's call.

"Hey."

"Hey," Lauren said. "Did you miss that free throw on purpose?"

"Yeah," Rick said. "And I thought Coach was going to beat me to death when I saw his eyes."

Lauren laughed. "Why?" she said. "Why did you do it?"

"It was a mis-call," Rick said. "So obvious. And Johnson didn't deserve that 'T'. It's not fair, very unfair."

"But you needed that basket."

"Yeah," Rick said. "I know. Actually, I was very sorry, right afterward. I think I will never do it again."

"Well," Lauren said. "You'd made up for it."

"Yeah," Rick said. "Lucky me."

"It's not luck," Lauren said, giggling. "It's your will. It's the best game I've ever seen in my life. Sportsmanship, hustle and come back, and a miraculous buzzer-beating shot. That's just amazing. And don't be sorry about the miss. I think you did the right thing."

"Well," Rick said. "Right things can be costly."

"You're a man, you stick to your ground," Lauren said.

"I'll try."

"Don't call me after the Sunday game," Lauren said. "Come pick me up at six thirty."

"What are you looking at?" Lauren said, smiling, when she met Rick at the entrance of her apartment building.

"Nothing. Oh, I'm looking at you."

"Did you say hi to me yet?"

"Hi, Lauren."

"Are the flowers for me?"

"Yeah," Rick said, and then realized the flowers weren't in his hand. He picked up the roses from the door steps and gave them to Lauren. "Sorry," he said.

"Were you staring at my legs when you picked up the roses?" she said, sniffing the roses.

"No, of course no."

"I thought you said you never lied to me," Lauren said, smiling again. She was wearing a mini-shirt that showed her slender legs off very well. She had purposely left the top two buttons of her cream satin blouse open and had worn a black bra inside.

"Okay, I was," Rick said, reluctantly.

"And were you staring at my chest when you said hi to me?"

"Yeah. Okay, I was."

"Why?"

"Well," Rick stuttered. "You're very pretty, and... And, very sexy."

"Am I?" Lauren said, smiling, while slowly turning and posing for him.

"Yeah," Rick said. "Yeah, of course."

Lauren smiled again. "Are we going to eat first?" she said.

"Yeah," Rick said. "Of course. I've reserved a table."

Lauren liked it when Rick knew that he was caught looking at her chest. "Are you studying the menu?" she said.

"Yeah," Rick said. "I am."

"I don't think so," Lauren said, smiling. "I think you're staring at my chest again, over and over."

Lauren knew he was flushing, even though it didn't show on his dark face. "Okay," he said. "Let's order. I'm sorry. I've never seen you dress like this."

"I didn't dress much when I was on the floor dancing," Lauren said, after they had ordered their food.

"Well," Rick said. "That's different. You're on the floor performing. And, and, usually I'd be in the dressing room or listening to Coach."

"Oh," Lauren said. "So you'd never looked at me while I was performing?"

"Well," Rick said. "Of course I had. It's different."

"Okay," Lauren said, smiling. "So do you like it, I mean, how I dress."

"Of course," Rick said. "Of course I like it. You know that."

"So," Lauren said, after the waitress had taken the dishes away and gave them their coffee. "Which club are we going to?"

"Which one do you want to go to?"

"You pick."

"You pick."

"You pick," Lauren said, smiling slyly at him. "Or I'm going home."

"Are you tired?" Lauren said, sipping her tequila cocktail at their table in the night club. They had not spent much time on the floor.

"Well, uh," Rick said, a little uneasily. "Yeah, a little."

"Really?" Lauren said, smiling at him. She knew he wasn't tired. She knew he didn't want to go to the floor with his obvious bulge in his pants.

"Well," Rick said. "I, uh. Alright, I admit. You know why. Well, give me a little time. You can go to the floor first if you want."

"I can?"

"Yeah, of course. Why not."

"Do you see that guy in cowboy shirt?"

"Yeah, he's been watching you."

"Do you think he's cute?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think I should go dance with him?"

"I, uh. Nah."

"Why not?" Lauren said, giggling.

"He's interested in you."

"Is that bad?"

"Yeah," Rick said. "Okay, okay. Let's go to the floor. I don't care."

Lauren didn't know if Rick ever liked dancing. She had never seen him on the dancing floor before. She knew he wasn't enjoying the dance though. He had been trying to hide himself in the corner. Lauren always loved dancing. She loved doing it all night long. However, she knew it wasn't the dancing she was enjoying. She was enjoying teasing him.

"Why are we leaving so fast?" Rick said, when they stepped outside of the club about an hour later.

"You want to go back in?" Lauren said, turning around to look at Rick.

"Nah," Rick said. "But I thought you're going to stay here till one or two."

"I think I'm a little tired."

"So," Rick said, carefully. "So, what now?"

"Aren't you taking me home?"

"Well," Rick said slowly. "Yeah, okay. I'm taking you home."

"This is a fire hydrant space," Lauren said, smiling at Rick, when he stopped his car in front of her apartment building. "You can't park here."