Dr. J. was one weird chick, Jodie decided. “You think because you’re so smart and everything that you’ve got to find somebody stupid?”

“I know I do. I can’t bear the idea that my child would have to go through what I did when I was growing up. Even now… Well, that’s neither here nor there. The point is, as much as I want a child, I can’t just think about myself.”

A new face on the screen caught Jodie’s attention. “Oh, jeez, wait a minute; I got to hear this.” She snatched the remote and hit the volume button.

Paul Fenneman, a network sportscaster, was doing a taped interview with Cal Bonner. Jodie knew for a fact that the Bomber hated Fenneman’s guts. The sportscaster had a reputation for asking stupid questions, and the Bomber didn’t have any patience with fools.

The interview had been pretaped in the parking lot of the Stars Compound, which was located on the outskirts of Naperville, the largest town in DuPage County. Fenneman spoke into the camera, looking real serious, like he was getting ready to cover a major war or something. “I’m speaking with Cal Bonner, the Stars’All-Pro quarterback.”

The camera focused on Cal, and Jodie’s skin went clammy from a combination of lust and resentment. Damn, he was hot, even if he was getting old.

He stood in front of this big Harley hog wearing jeans and a tight black T-shirt that outlined one of the best sets of pecs on the team. Some of the guys were so pumped up they looked like they were getting ready to explode, but Cal was perfect. He had a great neck, too, muscular, but not one of those tree trunks like a lot of the players had. His brown hair had a little curl to it, and he wore it short so he didn’t have to bother with it. The Bomber was like that. He didn’t have any patience with stuff he thought was unimportant.