The Circle of Friends, Book V...Heather

II-3

“So you went to Denver, huh?” he said.

Heather nodded and swallowed her food. “Just for a couple days. I hadn’t seen Matt and Sarah in ages.”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen my brother since November,” Mark admitted, setting aside the drink and reaching for his fork. “Talk to him all the time, though. Guess now that he’s a parent and all that, I need to give him grief in person.”

“Oh, you do. It’s disgusting how excited he is about the whole thing.”

Mark chuckled and scooped up another forkful of food. “Better him than me. The last thing I want is kids.”

Heather met his eyes and nodded. “Same here,” she declared.

There was a moment’s silence as they continued eating. The pit in her stomach filled at last and Heather began to pick at her noodles. Reaching for a breadstick, she dipped an end in her pasta sauce and took a small bite. She looked up from her food the same time as Mark.

“So, assistant coach to the Lady Tigers, huh?” he said. “That sounds rather exciting.”

“It’ll be a lot of work,” Heather said, stirring the remains of her pasta with the bread. “I’ll be scoping out potential players for next season all summer long and familiarizing myself with the program. Then it’ll be practices six days a week until the season starts.”

“Doesn’t leave much time for anything else. That sounds familiar.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I took the job,” said Heather.

Mark’s phone beeped. Rolling his eyes, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and reached for the receiver.

“Yeah?” he said. “All right, give me a minute.”

Heather decided she was finished and closed her container. She set it in the empty take-out bag, wiping sauce from her fingers. Mark looked up at her.

“Will you be in town Saturday night?” he said, taking a bite of bread.

“I’ll be in Augusta all day for a basketball tournament. Won’t be back until almost eight.”

“I’m having some friends over to shoot pool. Why don’t you join us?”

Taking one last sip of her drink, Heather wrinkled her nose. “I’ll probably be too tired,” she explained, tossing the Styrofoam cup into the bag.

“So will I,” Mark countered, shoving aside his now-empty container. “Six twelve-hour days a week wipe me out. But a little R&R brings me back to life. It’d probably help you, too.”

“I don’t know...” began Heather, her thoughts on the all-day tournament and the long hours she’d spend in the car.

Mark reached into one of his desk drawers and produced a business card. Flipping it over, he wrote down an address and phone number.

“I think you should,” he said, handing her the card.

Heather took it from his fingers. She glanced at the address, mulling over the neighborhood’s location. Her apartment in Clemson resided thirty minutes from Mark’s house. Half an hour was no big deal, except that she would’ve already spent over five hours in her car that day. Heather had neither the time nor the inclination to socialize right now and knew she needed to turn down the invitation. Mark had been generous with his deal, though, not to mention letting her drive his car. Perhaps she should wait until Saturday night to make her decision.

Mark rose to his feet and Heather followed suit. She tucked his card into her wallet for safekeeping and straightened her shoulders. Despite the outcome, Heather continued to be puzzled by Mark’s attitude and fair dealings. It should not have been so easy to acquire a new vehicle.

“So how many lucky souls get your best ‘screw you’ deal?” she said as Mark moved to her side of the desk.

“Honestly?” he said, reaching for the door. Mark hesitated, his eyes intense despite a gleam of mischief. “None.”

He threw open the door and waited for her to exit first. Heather stared open-mouthed for a moment before regaining her composure. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of his office. Mark followed her into the hallway and patted Heather on the back.

“See you Saturday,” he said with conviction before striding in the other direction.

Heather watched his retreat, a scowl on her face at Mark’s audacity. He took for granted she would accept his offer. His bold and confident assumption annoyed Heather. She could spot cockiness a mile away and had for the most part avoided arrogant men the past few years at Duke. The last thing she needed right now was another self-assured male in her life. Fists clenched in aggravation, Heather strode into the showroom.

Dietrich looked up from his sandwich as she approached and flashed a broad smile. He set down his food and reached behind his desk for her box.

“They just finished with your vehicle,” he announced, setting her former car’s possessions on the corner of his desk. Dietrich grabbed a large stack of paper from the top of his file tray and inserted them into a clean folder.

“Here’s your information,” he said, handing the folder to Heather, “and your key. Your Corolla is right outside.”

He carried out the box for Heather and she discovered the new car awaited her by the main entrance. She dumped the box onto the back seat, promising herself to throw out most of the contents rather than junk up her new vehicle. Dietrich held open the door and she slid behind the wheel.

“Everything look okay?” he said as Heather examined the interior.

Gripping the wheel, she leaned back against the seat. “Looks great,” she said, surprised by the additional features of the XLE model.

“Let us know if there’s anything else we can do for you,” said Dietrich before wishing her a good day.

Once alone with her new car, Heather turned over the engine and delighted in the immediate response. She located the climate controls and set the air conditioner to high. Backing away from the curb, she dropped it into drive and drove toward the exit. Heather glanced at the clock on the dash and smiled. Her quest completed, she had time to go to her apartment before returning to Greenville for dinner.

Her annoyance with Mark’s parting words began to fade. Presumptuous or not, he had been more than fair in his dealings. Perhaps she would accept his offer for Saturday night after all.

Heather pulled into her apartment complex after eight, thankful to be home and out of Augusta. She had been up since five-thirty that morning and was beginning to feel the effects of a long day. As promised, her new vehicle felt very comfortable. Heather wondered again why she had endured her old junker for so many years.

The basketball camp had been a one-day affair. Clemson’s head coach had not anticipated any great prospects at today’s event, but no opportunity for potential talent was to be missed. As the rookie on the coaching staff, Heather knew why she’d been selected to attend. Today’s experience provided the perfect training exercise. She had to prove her ability to spot future college basketball players. While she understood the logic behind Stacey’s decision, it frustrated her to receive the lowest assignments. After years of working her way up in the ranks, she was at the bottom of the ladder once again.

Gathering her paperwork, Heather stumbled out of her car. She staggered into her apartment and dropped everything on the empty coffee table. While her duties as an assistant coach were still daunting, the condition of her apartment no longer appeared quite so overwhelming. Heather had found suitable locations for all of her possessions and no longer felt stressed by the disarray. She had other things on which to concentrate at the moment.

Heather had spent the past two days familiarizing herself with Clemson in general and her new position in detail. She shared an office with the other assistant coach, Josiah Parker, which promised to be a challenge in and of itself. Jo, as he preferred to be called, hailed from Alabama and had lost none of his Southern style and attitude. His coaching abilities weren’t an issue, but his accent grated on her nerves. It was only a matter of time before his Southern drawl elicited a snide comment from Heather. She hoped to curtail her response, as it would only create more friction, but she doubted that possibility. The intensity of postgraduate work at Duke had done little to curb her short temper.

Heather changed into jeans and a tank top and collapsed on the couch. She opened her notebook and stared at her scribbles and comments from the day. Despite the lack of serious contenders, a center and forward with potential had caught her eye. Heather had taken lengthy notes on both players, determined to prove her analytical abilities. She would have to organize her ramblings and type out a concise report to present to Stacey on Monday. Heather had her work cut out for her this weekend.

“I’ve still got homework!” she mumbled.

With a sigh, Heather dropped her notes onto the table. She slumped against the back of the couch and propped her feet up on the edge of the coffee table. Running fingers through her curly hair, Heather stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Between the drive and the tournament, she was far too tired to work on her report tonight.

Dropping her chin to her chest, Heather’s eyes fell on her wallet. Lying at the edge of the coffee table with her keys, the small billfold appeared in danger of falling to the floor. She leaned forward and retrieved her wallet. While thumbing through the contents, Heather came upon Mark’s business card tucked between her license and a credit card. Tossing aside her wallet, she stared at the front of the card for a moment before turning to the address scrawled on the back.

The last thing she wanted to do right now was get back into her vehicle. She’d spent too many hours behind the wheel today. However, her prospects for the evening’s activities were slim. A long grocery list still sat on her counter as a testament to the lack of food in her home, and her beverage choices were soda and milk that had expired yesterday. There’d not been time to make any friends in the area. Heather did not even have basic cable. At this point, she might as well go to bed.

She thought about Mark, his wry expression during their lunch last Wednesday coming to mind first. His features were so similar to Matt’s, and yet uniquely his own. Whereas his brother’s eyes were always bright with mischief, enhanced by his ever-present smile, Mark’s were more calculating and serious. Shorter than his brother, Mark’s frame was more stout and full, although he had not let himself go since high school. He’d never shared his younger sibling’s sunny disposition, either, nor had kindness ever been Mark’s strong suit.

Despite his gruff nature, though, no hint of malice or insolence had resided in his behavior. Mark had given her a great deal on the Corolla, with almost no hassle, and gone beyond the call of duty by paying for lunch, not to mention allowing Heather to drive his convertible. His friendly and amicable nature revealed itself in his actions rather than his words, something she was not accustomed to in a man. If a guy sounded like a jerk, he often acted like one too.

“What the hell,” Heather said, arising from the couch. If she didn’t enjoy herself tonight, she would cross Mark off her list of potential friends.

The clock on her dashboard read nine-ten as she pulled into Mark’s subdivision. Heather had visited his apartment on several occasions, but never set foot inside his house. She found it difficult to imagine Matt’s brother a homeowner in a neighborhood that appeared too conservative and family-friendly for someone like Mark. Perhaps the wild parties, a staple at his old apartment, had been curtailed at this new residence.