Teri felt it was only fair to warn him. “In a few months I’m going to be big and fat and you won’t want me.”
He gave her an odd look. “I will always want you.”
“Oh, Bobby.”
They went to bed early that night but didn’t fall asleep until late.
The next morning, Bobby showed none of the pretournament jitters she’d seen before. He woke, showered and dressed in his usual shirt and pants, nothing special, no “lucky” outfit. Then he ordered coffee and Irish oatmeal for breakfast.
Teri wore her brand-new maternity top and turned sideways to check her reflection in the closet-door mirror. “Can you tell I’m pregnant?” she asked plaintively.
Bobby studied her, tilting his head to one side. “Not yet.”
“I don’t want people to think I’m just fat,” she protested.
“They will see that you’re beautiful.”
If he didn’t stop saying that, she was going to start crying. Bobby might not be movie-star handsome, but he had more heart and brains than anyone she’d ever met or hoped to meet. She continually felt grateful—and somewhat astonished—that he loved her.
As soon as they appeared at the tournament headquarters, on the hotel’s penthouse level, a hush fell over the room. In the world of chess, her husband was the reigning king. Yet he never put on airs or pretensions, never expected special treatment or deference.
Bobby escorted her to the viewing area, where Teri was given a prominent seat. She noticed television cameras and several monitors placed throughout the room.
When the Russian player, Aleksandr Vladimir, arrived it was with a grand flourish. He paused by the door, as if waiting for applause before he deigned to enter. When a few people clapped, he gave a slight bow, then removed his black overcoat and draped it over the arm of the burly man on his right.
Cameras flashed.
Reporters buzzed with questions.
Just a minute. Teri narrowed her eyes as she recognized the husky man beside the Russian. He was the one who’d cornered her in the parking lot outside the mall that night last spring. He might even be one of the men who’d abducted Rachel and James.
Of all the nerve!
The despicable Vladimir had the audacity to show up with this…this goon! And she was supposed to ignore the fact that he’d threatened her? She’d have to have a little chat with New York’s finest, she thought grimly.
She forced herself to calm down as Bobby and the Russian sat across from each other at the chessboard. A sports commentator for one of the major networks made the introductions, then lowered his voice as he explained to the television viewing audience the importance of this match.
Last night Bobby had described his strategy to her—how he planned to outwit the Russian. She’d nodded at what she assumed were all the right moments, but didn’t understand much of what he said.
Teri watched each move intently. Bobby had demonstrated the first eight moves Vladimir was likely to make and how he’d respond. It was the next three that would set up the trap. The trap Vladimir had prearranged so Bobby would lose the match and he’d walk away victorious.
With the ninth move, Bobby did as he’d been told. The crowd grew silent, then Teri heard scattered murmuring. The Black Hole. Bobby had stepped into the Black Hole. The Russian seemed to be stunned, and Teri had to compliment him on his fine acting job.
She clenched her fists at her sides.
Aleksandr looked cocky as he made his move.
Bobby stared at the board as if he’d been outplayed.
According to what Bobby had explained, there were eleven moves before the game was lost, with a few possible variations. Bobby made his tenth move. Vladimir executed his, doing exactly as her husband had predicted. Bobby followed. Vladimir smiled triumphantly into the camera and executed his next move.
At that point, Bobby nodded and slipped his own pawn into position.
Vladimir frowned.
“You said eleven moves,” Bobby told him. The microphone picked up the exchange.
The Russian didn’t speak. He hesitated for a few seconds, then moved again.
Once again, a hush fell over the room, and the commentator spoke excitedly into the microphone, explaining that the audience was viewing chess history. For the first time ever, a player had maneuvered himself out of the Black Hole. Whether Bobby Polgar won the match or not, history had been made.
In the end, Bobby did win the match, even though he’d obeyed Vladimir’s instructions.
“No!” The big Russian leaped to his feet and swore loudly, causing several people to gasp. “You were supposed to lose.”
“That isn’t what you said,” Bobby reminded him. “You said I had to play the first eleven moves of the Black Hole, which I did. I followed your instructions to the letter.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Teri saw two uniformed police officers enter the room and step forward. They walked directly up to the burly man Teri had recognized earlier. A moment later, two other policemen came in; they marched toward the stage and arrested Vladimir, charging him with fraud and conspiracy to—Teri couldn’t hear the rest, but she fervently hoped kidnapping and assault charges were on the list.
Bobby was instantly surrounded by reporters. The television cameras followed him as he left the stage and walked toward Teri. Questions were tossed at him from every direction, but Bobby ignored them all. When he reached her, she practically threw herself into his arms.
“You were incredible!” she cried.
“Mrs. Polgar, Mrs. Polgar, were you aware of the threat against you?”
She beamed the reporters a smile. “Oh, yes.” Then, because she wanted them to know she was pregnant, she placed her hand on her stomach. “We’re going to have a baby.”
“Mrs. Polgar! Mrs. Polgar.”
“I married the most brilliant man in the universe.”
“Do you plan to teach your child to play chess?” one reporter asked.
“No,” Bobby said.
“Oh, yes, we will,” Teri insisted.
“Gentlemen,” the commentator called. “I can answer your questions about the match and explain what just happened.”