Chapter 3

After a hot shower and a cup of Sleepytime tea, Adriana slipped into her flannel pajamas that she had just pulled out of the dryer and crawled into bed. She opened the novel she was reading, feeling a bit guilty for telling her father she had some research to do. He wouldn't understand her passion for Janet Evanovich novels. She had hoped to finish a chapter before sleep took over. She set her alarm for five, and snuggled into the blankets to read the latest adventures of Stephanie Plum and Joe Morelli.

Frank rolled over on to his side and stared at the clock. Three AM. He hated nights like this where there would be little if any sleep. He'd be a bear in the morning. He closed his eyes and rolled on his other side so he wouldn't see the clock. Her face flashed before his eyes again. "Dammit, Judge. You are going to be the death of me," he muttered as he pulled the blanket up.

The tea didn't work. Adriana found herself staring at the clock again. 3:30. She had to be up in an hour and a half. It was too late to take a sleeping pill and too late for a glass of wine. She decided to skip the gym and go after work. She reset the alarm for seven. Getting up, she headed back to the bathroom. She turned on the jets of her spa tub and climbed inside. She knew what was keeping her up. Commissioner Frank Reagan. "Dammit, Adriana. Get him out of your mind. He isn't interested," she chided.

Soaking in the hot water, she closed her eyes and tried to think about baseball. Going over the past Yankees season in her head, she plotted strategies and lineup changes. She planned to keep Jeter at leadoff, regardless of whether he was facing a right or left handed pitcher. Brett Gardner second. Rodriguez at clean up.

She thought about Derek Jeter and sighed. He was definitely a fine specimen of man. He had those exotic looks that got her hormones stirring. She smiled at the thought of seeing his tight butt in pinstripes. She snuggled into the water a bit more, and an image of Frank Reagan popped into her mind. Why was he haunting her? They had had a very short conversation. She had short conversations with people all day long and they never entered her mind again. Why would the image of him smoking the cigar not leave her head?

She turned the heater up on the tub. Maybe another few minutes and she would be able to get out and try to get some sleep.