Free Shattered: by Janet Nissenson Page B

could even remotely be considered intimate for the duration of the meal. Instead, he kept her entertained with stories from his college and NFL football days, discovered that they had both been finance majors at Stanford and taken classes from several of the same professors, talked briefly about his meteoritic rise to success in the brokerage business, and managed to pry a considerable amount of information out of her as well.
    “I confess to knowing very little about volleyball,” he admitted. “Why did you choose that particular sport to play in college?”
    “Easy. It’s the one I got offered a scholarship for. There’s no possible way I could have afforded to attend Stanford otherwise. My parents – correction, my mother – would never have even considered the possibility.” She took a drink of the excellent Cabernet he’d ordered to go with their steak dinners – a huge Porterhouse for him, a petite filet mignon for her.
    “You must have been a hell of a player to win a scholarship,” he acknowledged. “Stanford has extremely high standards, after all, both academically and athletically.”
    Angela nodded. “I was pretty good, yeah. I was a starter even as a freshman. We fell just shy of winning the national title that year, but came back with a vengeance the next three.”
    Nick looked suitably impressed. “Three successive NCAA titles, hmm? A pretty impressive feat. You must cherish those trophies.”
    “I do. Though not quite as much as my Olympic medal.”
    He set his knife and fork down carefully, staring at her with an expression resembling awe. “You were on the Olympic volleyball team?
    “Yes.” Her cheeks flushed at his continued regard. “I was chosen for the national team at last summer’s games. We, um, won.”
    “The gold?” He was incredulous at her nod. “Jesus, I’m sitting across the dinner table from an Olympic gold medalist? That’s just – wow.”
    She laughed a little, pleased beyond belief at his tone of near reverence. “Come on, look who’s talking. I’m sure between college and the pros you’ve racked up a ton of MVP, All-Pro, and Hall of Fame honors. Plus a Super Bowl ring. Nobody gives a rat’s ass about Olympic volleyball or probably even remembers who won the gold medal last year.”
    Nick shook his head. “But I never won an Olympic medal, hell, never even had an opportunity to participate in the Olympics. And that’s probably every athlete’s dream, you know? Your family must be incredibly proud of you. Do your parents have some sort of shrine erected to you in their house?”
    Her smile faded abruptly as she reached for her wine glass. “No. They – it’s not like that with them. They don’t – let’s just say that I’ve got all my trophies and medals stored at my place. What about you?”
    Nick apparently got the message that the subject of her parents was a sore one, and tactfully didn’t press the issue further. “The same. All of my awards and other sports memorabilia are displayed in a room in my house. But that’s largely because both of my parents tend to move around a lot. Separately, of course. They divorced when I was still a kid.”
    Before she could quiz him further, he changed the subject, but Angela sensed that he – like herself – hadn’t had the happiest of childhoods. It was one more thing they seemed to have in common.
    Nick refilled his wine glass but set the bottle aside without offering any to her. When she looked from him to her empty glass quizzically, he shook his head.
    “No more booze for you tonight, Angel. You’ve had more than enough. And the very last thing I’d allow you to do tonight is get drunk.”
    She stared at him like he’d just sprouted horns, turning into the devil he’d jokingly compared himself to. “You’re kidding, right? I mean, you’ve had just as much to drink as I’ve had.”
    He sipped the fine Cabernet with slow deliberation, his coffee colored eyes narrowing dangerously. “I rarely