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desk.
    JT met the smile on her dark-skinned face. “And I am. Don’t know why, but the sun seems brighter, the air sweeter.”
    “Sound like an overdose of trucker to me.”
    JT grinned. “You could be right. I haven’t had that much fun with a man in my life. Lord, he was fine.” And the first thing on her mind when she opened her eyes in bed this morning: Was he still in California? Was he having breakfast with a woman?
    “Planning on seeing him again?”
    JT shrugged her lean shoulders, encased in a fire engine red, Italian designer suit. “He said he’d call, but who knows?”
    “Well, while you’re waiting on yon knight to pick up the phone, one of your court jesters is in your office.”
    JT glanced over at the closed door. She’d been so dazzled by Reese last night, she’d forgotten about this morning’s appointment with basketball superstar Deuce Watson. His team, Charlotte, was in town to play the local club that evening, so they’d arranged to get together that day. “Coffee first,” she said. She liked Deuce. He was one of her oldest clients, but like most of her guys, he had issues. She poured a cup of the brew Carole kept hot and fresh, all day, every day, and strode into her office.
    While playing in Dallas, Deuce Watson had the distinction of being named the league’s Defensive Player of the Year, four of the last seven seasons. He’d also earned back-to-back championship rings and would probably be in line for a third had he not asked to be traded at the end of his contract last year.
    “Mornin’, Deuce.”
    “Hey, Lady B.”
    JT placed her briefcase on top of her desk, then took a seat. “How are you?” she asked, sipping from her coffee and studying him. He was a big old country boy from Alabama.
    “Miserable.”
    “I hear you and Coach Palmer aren’t getting along.”
    “You heard right. I want to go back to Dallas.”
    JT shook her head. She’d tried to tell him to stay put, but he’d been so dazzled by the extra thirty million Charlotte offered, he chose to take the cash and leave behind the team he’d taken to the championship and a city that loved him.
    “I’ll give Charlotte their money back,” he offered. “Hell, I’ll play for Dallas for free if they’ll have me.”
    “You know that isn’t possible. Trading deadline was back in February. Playoffs will be starting soon.”
    “And I’m going to be home watching it for the first time in seven years.”
    “Tried to warn you.”
    The sadness on his face was evident. He could have passed for a homesick fifth grader if it weren’t for his six-eleven height. “I miss my boys in Dallas, too.”
    The members of the Dallas team had been as close as brothers. JT allowed herself a sympathetic smile. “Let’s talk about this at the end of the season. Maybe Charlotte will be as sick of you as you are of them and want to do something about it. No guarantee, though.”
    He sighed with resignation.
    “What time is shoot-around?” she asked.
    “Four.”
    “You want to have lunch?”
    “No, Coach wants me on the court at one to work on my free throws.”
    JT thought that an excellent idea. His stats were terrible. The only players with worse free throw percentages were Shaq and Ben Wallace of the Bulls. “You know, you could make that team into a contender if you wanted to.”
    “You sound like my wife.”
    “Lisa is a very smart woman, so I’ll take that as a compliment. You’re just homesick, Deuce. You were with Dallas seven years. You’ve been with Charlotte one. Give yourself time to settle in before you talk about throwing in the towel. They paid a lot of money for you, my man.”
    “Will I make incentive money?”
    Incentive clauses were common in pro athletes’ contracts and were tied to productivity. In Deuce’s case, he got bonus money for pulling down ten or more rebounds in a game. “I’ll have Charlotte fax the stats over and let you know.”
    That seemed to satisfy him, but he still looked glum