“That’s only because he wants to move up in the world. He’s young and talented, and you’re standing in his way.”
His muscles tensed. He didn’t like the fact that she spent time with Kevin, but since she’d made it clear that she regarded him as a friend, and since Cal had apparently told Kevin he’d break both his arms if he so much as touched her, they’d settled into an uneasy truce.
He tilted his head and shaved under his chin. “He’s not as talented as he thinks. He’s got a great arm—no doubt about that. He’s quick and aggressive, but he has a lot to learn about reading defenses.”
“Why don’t you teach him?”
“It’s like I said, I don’t see the logic in training my competition, and I also happen to be the last person in the world he’d take advice from.”
“That’s not true. Why do you think he’s still hanging around Salvation?”
“Because he’s sleeping with Sally Terryman.”
Jane had seen the curvaceous Sally in town several times, and she decided Cal had a point, but since it wasn’t the one she wanted to make, she ignored it. “He’d be a lot better player if you worked with him, and you’d be leaving something important behind when you retire.”
“Which won’t be for a long time.” He ducked his head and rinsed off the shaving cream.
She knew she was treading on dangerous ground and stepped carefully. “You’re thirty-six, Cal. It can’t be much longer.”
“Which just goes to show what you know.” He grabbed a hand towel and dried his face. “I’m at the top of my game. There’s no reason for me to retire.”
“Maybe not right away, but certainly in the foreseeable future.”
“I’ve got a lot of good years left.”
She thought of the shoulder he rubbed when he thought no one was looking, the whirlpool he’d had installed in the bathroom, and knew he was fooling himself.
“What are you going to do when you retire? Do you have some business ventures lined up? Are you going into coaching?”
His back muscles tensed ever so slightly. “Why don’t you just stick to those top quarks, Professor, and leave my future to me?” He headed into his bedroom, whipping off his towel as he walked over to his bureau and pulled out a pair of briefs. “You remember, don’t you, that I’m taking off for Texas later this afternoon.”
He’d changed the subject. “Some kind of golf tournament, I think you said.”
“The Bobby Tom Denton Invitational.”
“He’s a friend of yours?” She got up from the toilet and leaned against the doorframe that led into his bedroom.
“Honey, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Bobby Tom Denton. He’s only the most famous wide-out to ever play football.”
“Wide-out?”
“Wide receiver. They’re the ones quarterbacks throw to. I want to tell you, the day he blew out his knee and had to retire was one of the worst days in the history of pro ball.”
“What’s he doing now?”
He yanked on a pair of khakis. “Mostly putting up a good front. He lives in Telarosa, Texas, with his wife Gracie and their new baby. He acts like his family and the charity foundation he runs are all he needs in life.”
“Maybe they are.”
“You don’t know Bobby Tom. From the time he was a little kid, he lived to play ball.”
“It sounds as if he’s doing some important work.”
“The Denton Foundation?” He pulled a dark brown polo shirt over his head. “It does a lot of good, don’t get me wrong. This golf tournament alone brings in a couple hundred thousand for a whole bunch of good causes, but I guess the way I look at it, there are lots of people in this country who could run something like that, but there’s only one guy in the world who can catch a football like B.T.”
In Jane’s opinion, running a charitable foundation seemed a lot more important than catching a football, but she knew when to hold her tongue. “Retirement could be exciting. Think about yourself, for example. You’ll have the chance to start a whole new life while you’re still young.”
“I like the life I have.”