“So do you paint, or just lecture about painters?” he asked.
“I used to draw and paint a lot when I was younger, but not so much anymore.”
“How come?”
She shrugged. “I was always more fascinated with other people’s work than with my own. My undergrad was mostly studio work, but I did my master’s in art history. I discovered I liked studying great artists better than trying to become one myself.” She drew her knees up into a cross-legged position and asked, “What did you study in college?”
“Sports sciences,” he answered. “You know, kinesiology, sports medicine. And I minored in athletic coaching.”
“Seriously?”
He didn’t respond. Her expression revealed nothing, but he got the feeling she didn’t believe him, which made him feel like he was in high school all over again. The kid who’d been written off by his teachers as a big dumb oaf just because he happened to be good at sports. They’d stuck the jock label on him, and no matter how hard he’d tried to tear it off, the judgmental attitudes remained intact. One time he’d even been accused of cheating on an English test he’d spent hours studying for, all because his teacher had decided that a kid who spent all his time handling a puck couldn’t possibly finish a book like Crime and Punishment.
Hayden must have sensed his irritation because she quickly added, “I believe you. It’s just…well, most of the athletes I knew growing up only went to college for the athletic scholarship and just skipped all the academic classes.”
“My parents would have killed me if I’d skipped class,” he said, rolling his eyes. “They only allowed me to play hockey if I maintained an A average.”
Hayden looked impressed. “What do your parents do for a living?”
“Dad’s a mechanic, and Mom works in a hair salon.” He paused. “Money was always tight during my childhood.” He resisted the urge to glance around the lavish penthouse, which was an obvious sign that Hayden hadn’t had the same problem growing up.
He wasn’t quite sure why he’d brought up that money part, either. He hated talking about his childhood. Hated thinking about it, too. As much as he loved his parents, he didn’t like to be reminded of how hard life had been to them. How his mom used to stay up at night clipping coupons and how his dad walked to work—even when Michigan’s winter was at its worst—each time their beat-up Chevy truck broke down. Fortunately, his parents would never have to worry about money again, thanks to his lucrative career.
The phone rang, putting an end to their conversation. Hayden picked up the receiver, then hung up and said room service was on its way.
As Hayden headed for the elevator to greet the bellhop with the cart, Brody turned on the television, flipped through a few channels, then finally stopped on the eleven-o’clock news.
Rolling the cart into the living room, Hayden uncovered their food and placed a plate in front of him. The aroma of French fries and ground beef floated toward him, making his mouth water. Funny, he hadn’t even noticed how hungry he was when Hayden had had him tied to her bed. He’d been satisfying a different sort of appetite then.
He’d just taken a big bite of his cheeseburger when a familiar face flashed across the plasma screen. He nearly choked on the burger, as a wave of unease washed over him. Hayden had also noticed her father’s image on the TV, and she quickly grabbed the remote to turn up the volume. They caught the Channel 8 newscaster in midsentence.
“—came forward this afternoon and admitted there is truth to the rumors surrounding the Chicago Warriors franchise. The player, who refused to be named, claims that the bribery and illegal betting activities Warriors owner Presley Houston is accused of are in fact true.”
Brody suppressed a groan. Next to him, Hayden made a startled little sound.
“An hour ago, the league announced they will be launching a full investigation into these allegations.”
The newscaster went on to recap the accusation that Presley had bribed players to throw at least two games, and that he’d placed bets on the outcomes. The divorce was also mentioned, as well as Sheila Houston’s alleged affair with a Warrior, but by that point Brody had tuned out the news segment.
Who had come forward? It couldn’t be Becker, because his friend would’ve called him with a heads-up before he did anything like that. Yeah, Becker would’ve definitely warned him.
Craig Wyatt, though, seemed like a likely candidate, especially after what Brody had witnessed at the arena earlier today. The reporters had been pretty rough on Sheila Houston, many of them holding the firm belief that she was lying. It made sense that Wyatt would step in and try to support the woman in his bed.