Decision made, Hodge hit her warm up routine with gusto, stopping only when she felt a presence looming over her. She straightened, looking up into the dark, flashing eyes of Keisha Brown.
?I seen you eyeballing Lambert over there, shorty. Just keep lookin?, girl, cause that?s the closest you?re ever gonna get.?
Hodge easily stood her ground. ?Think so, huh??
Brown beamed. ?Oh, honey, I know so.? With that, Brown moved swiftly by, making sure to slam Hodge hard with her shoulder as she passed.
The whistle blew, and the camp?s directors filed out onto the court, basketballs in hand.
?Okay ladies, listen up. Now?s your chance to show our esteemed guests what you?re really made of.?
Hearty cheering echoed through the gymnasium.
?First up are shooting drills. When I call your name, go to the ball racks and start shooting. One shot per rack. The whistle will tell you when time?s up. Good luck. Brown! You?re up.?
Hodge took in a deep breath to settle the butterflies in her stomach. Looking around, she could see other women wiping sweating palms on their shorts and shifting nervously foot to foot, anxious to prove their worth to the coaches. Perversely, this made the butterflies in her own stomach vanish entirely.
When her turn came, Hodge trotted up to the first rack and began shooting without an ounce of nervousness.
Dylan took a seat courtside, rather than in the benches set aside for the staff members. She wanted to watch the women play, not sit around and talk about what color new Mercedes some half-assed coach had just bought with a bonus they didn?t deserve. She was here to do a job, not schmooze and eat the free buffet.
The recruiting class was a good one, chock full of talent at all positions. While Dylan carefully scrutinized each woman, right down to her shoe size, she made no bones about the fact that one player in particular drew her interest.
?So that?s Super Girl, huh??
Dylan had the good sense to roll her eyes and keep her groan to herself before she turned around to face Horace Johnson, the owner of the Badgers. A shade under six feet tall, he fashioned himself a JR Ewing type, right down to the Stetson. His protuberant belly hung listlessly over his belt, and his suit jacket was a size too small. The cologne he all but bathed in was enough to raise the dead, and Dylan found herself stifling a sneeze.
?That?s her.?
?She?s short.? Johnson observed, past the toothpick he was chewing because his damn doctor told him to quit smoking.
?She compensates for that with her abilities.?
?She?s young.? He plucked the toothpick from his mouth and made a sucking noise through his teeth that made Dylan want to slap him.
?No younger than anyone else here, and older than a few.?
?She?s queer.
Dylan dropped her head then looked back up at the man, sighing softly before speaking. ?She?s gay. And that has no impact on her ability to play basketball.?
?Don?t like queers.?
?I don?t imagine they?re real fond of you either.? Dylan mumbled.
?What??
?I said it shouldn?t matter. Her talent is amazing and if you want me to give you a winning team, you?ll let me draft her.?
Squinting his beady, close-set eyes, Johnson made a show of examining the young woman in question.
?Make you a deal, then.?
Dylan tried not to look annoyed. ?What??
?I?ll let you draft the little Sodomite on two conditions.?
Dylan looked over to Mac, who was standing out of the line of fire. Mac shrugged. Dylan glared at him, then returned her attention to the owner. ?And they are??
?First, you?re completely responsible for her behavior. I don?t want her caught in some queer nightclub and I sure as hell don?t want her marching in any gay pride parades.?
?And number two??
?I want you to go out with Hunter Locke again. This team gets damn fine publicity when you two go out together.?
Dylan’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Since when did I become your corporate whore, Horace?”
The toothpick rolled again. “Why, since the day you signed my contract, darlin. You want that queer little filly in your stable, you gotta put out. Got to give me what I need.”
“And a championship isn’t enough for you?”
Johnson hooked his thumbs through his belt and pretended to think on it. “Nope. Guess it isn’t.”
As he turned to her, her fists closed against the urge to slap that smirk off his face.
“So, we got a deal?”
Dylan gritted her teeth. “Fine.”
Johnson sniffed, trying to give a superior air that he didn?t have. It was all Dylan could do to keep from quitting her job, punching him in the nose and ramming her booted foot up his ass, not necessarily in that order.
She was very relieved when he jammed his toothpick back in his mouth left the gym, in search of his free meal.
?Asshole.? She mumbled as she turned her attention back to the court.
Mac quietly slid up next to her. ?Well, that went well, huh??
Dylan gave him a look hot enough to smelt metal.
?Or not,? Mac replied, swallowing hard and scratching the back of his neck. ?I?m?just gonna?.? His voice trailed off as he gestured weakly toward the stands where the others were sitting.
?You do that.?
Hodge listened carefully as one of the camp directors explained the three-on-three drill. The large group had been split into teams of three, two forwards and a guard. They?d play a half court game to eleven points, one point per basket. Four games would go on simultaneously on the two courts.
When the director called out the names for the first two teams, Keisha Brown smirked. ?You and me, shorty. You and me. You?re goin? down, Kitty Cat.?
Hodge didn?t let the use of her nickname bother her. Nor did she so much as flinch when Brown rifled the ball into her belly from less than three feet away. Instead, she grinned, gathered her teammates around her, and planned a strategy for the game.
The two teams were very evenly matched, and after twenty minutes, the score was tied, 10 ? 10. Keisha, ball in hand, smirked at Hodge. ?Take a look at this face, baby. It?s gonna be famous.?
The whistle blew, and Brown shot a pass over Hodge?s head to one of her forwards. Hodge?s teammates closed quickly, guarding against an easy shot. The forward passed the ball back to Brown, who dribbled it easily, still smirking.
Faking to her left, Brown went right with a lazy, over-confident stride. Hodge waited, backing slowly up and watching the ball like a hawk. Then, using a quickness startling to anyone who didn?t know her well, her left hand darted out and tipped the ball away. Stepping easily around Brown, she gained possession of the ball and brought it back to half court.
A nod, and her teammates went into motion. As Brown, teeth grit tight in anger, came up to guard, Hodge dribbled once, then passed to the forward cutting across the top of the key. The forward stopped, turned, and shot, but the ball bounced off the rim and into an opposing player?s hands.
Brown had the ball again at half court, her grin firmly back in place. ?Let?s see if you can do that again, Kitten.?
Brown had one of the fastest first steps in the game, and this time she made it count, blowing by Hodge, who was forced to turn and run. A lane was cleared, and Brown dribbled forward, headed into the paint for what looked to be an easy, game winning lay-up.
Hodge slid into place beneath the basket, and froze. Brown charged into her, knocking her to the ground hard as she shot.
The whistle blew. ?Charging! No basket.?
Angered beyond reason, Brown slammed her foot into Hodge?s chest. ?Stay down, bitch!?
Hodge rolled to her feet, eyes blazing green fury as she tried to get her wind back. Her arms were immediately grabbed from behind by one of her teammates. Brown was grabbed in a similar manner as the referee stepped in between them, blowing her whistle repeatedly.