2 Big Apple Hunter Read Free

me to dinner with some of the other f emale players, but I was feeling the effects of staying up late the night before and playing full-tilt all day, so I declined.
    After showering and changing clothes, I asked Reggie, the club manager, to give me a ride back to the hotel. He and Husky had known each other for years, and I was comfortable to ask him for the ride.
    I tossed my bag and gear into the back seat of Reggie's Cadillac, and hopped int o the front seat. “Thank you for the ride, Reggie,” I told him. “I appreciate it.”
    “Anything for a friend of Husky ’s ,” he said cheerfully. “I watched you play all day today, Susan, and no one could touch you. I think you could win this tomorrow.”
    “Well, I don't know about that,” I said with hesitation . I could feel a blush coming into my face .
    “Really, you could,” he insisted. “I have money on you.” He flashed a big grin my way .
    He reminded me of a 50's-style lounge singer, and not necessarily a good one. His hair was too greasy and it was slicked back. He was wearing a pastel blue suit when every other person in the club was wearing sports clothing. He was definitely in a league of his own.
    “Money on me?” I asked. I had never heard of gambling on racquetball and was surprised. “Who's running a pool?”
    “I t's just a little local betting amongst friends,” he said. “We place our bets a week before the tournament based on the names of the entrants a nd the little we might know about them. They’re almost all hunches, but the money is in the pot, and we have to live with our picks. The moment I saw you step on the court, I knew my money was well spent on Susan Hunter.” He smiled at me again, but this time it was more of a lecherous s mile. I started to feel uncomfortable.
    “You know, Susan,” he went on, “you really need to ditch Samantha. She's playing at a class below you, and she drags you down in doubles. You wouldn't have to play so hard if you had a stronger partner.”
    I was astonished at the comment. “I would never think of getting another partner,” I replied indignantly. “Sam introduced me to the sport, and we’ve been playing doubles from the beginning. We play well together, and we're going into the finals tomorrow. I don't know why you would say such a thing.”
    He shrugged his shoulders and s aid, “Well, it seems to me you run around taking a lot of the shots when S amantha could step up and take more of them if she was quicker and stronger. I'm just sayin'.”
    I was starting to get more than a little irritated and raised my voice, “Maybe I like to run around and take most of the shots. Maybe that's how we play together.” But part of my irritation w as the fact that I did take too many shots, and maybe I should let Samantha be more offensive rather than defensive. The words ball hog were creeping up in the back of my mind, and I didn’t want to admit to being one .
    Reggie sensed my agitation and backed down. “Don't worry about it, but I’m telling you that you've got it all, angel, and I'm re ally counting on you.” H e slid his hand over and put it on my knee.
    I was shocked. “Reggie!” I snapped at him as I grabbed his hand and tossed it back his way. “What are you doing? Come on! You're a friend of Husky's, and he's my coach.” I was starting to feel afraid .
    “Susan, angel, you’re just so beautiful,” he said as he reached over again and put his hand on my arm. “I can't help myself. I think we could have a very good time together.” I swatted his hand away and was nearing a full p anic when I realized we had stopped in front of the hotel. “Let me come in with you,” he said . “You won't regret it.” His eyes were definitely oozing lecherous.
    “NO!” I screamed at him as I threw the car door open and bolted for the front door of the hotel. It was several hours later before I completely calmed down and realized w ith a sinking feeling I’d left my racquetball clothes,