Nobody's Baby But Mine

“I’m Jim Bonner.”

She stared at him.

That was a long time ago. It’s complicated.”
“I’m very bright. Explain it.

Poverty’s only charming in retrospect

She had the feeling that his self-centeredness resulted from a lack of confidence he was determined to conceal from the world.

Let me get this straight,” Jodie Pulanski said. “You want to give Cal Bonner a woman for a birthday present.”
The three offensive linemen, who were spending the November evening sitting in the back booth at Zebras, the DuPage County sports bar favored by the Chicago Stars football players, all nodded at once.
Junior Duncan gestured toward the waitress for another round. “He’s going to be thirty-six, so we wanted to make this extra special.”
“Bull,” Jodie said. Everybody who knew anything about football knew that Cal Bonner, the Stars’ brilliant quarterback, had been demanding, temperamental, and generally impossible to get along with ever since the season started. Bonner, popularly known as the “Bomber” because of his fondness for throwing explosive passes, was the top-ranked quarterback in the AFC and a legend.
Jodie crossed her arms over the form-fitting white tank top that was part of her hostess uniform. It didn’t occur to either her or any of the three men at the table to consider the moral dimensions of their discussion, let alone notions of political correctness. This was, after