Ashley waved her hand in front of Sheila’s face bringing Sheila out of her fog. “Hello? What about us? There are 25 players in the locker room, and there’s over 250 employees in the front office. If this team shuts down, we’re toast.”
Sheila sat up taller. “That’s why we’re not going to let that happen. Let’s look at trimming the budget.”
Ashley shook her head. “We’re already operating on Sheila’s patented under-budget program.”
Shoot. She had made sure they spent ten percent less than they were allotted in case there were unforeseen expenses.
A knock sounded at the partially closed door. Jerry, the resident computer geek, stuck his head in. His hair stood up all over, like he’d grabbed on to it and tugged all morning. His glasses were smudged and his pants were wrinkled. “The votes are in.” He stuck his arm through the space, proffering a file folder that looked like it had been run over.
Sheila reached for it, eagerly. “You can come in,” she told him. He’d obviously spent a lot of time on this project that she’d thrown at him out of the blue.
His eyes scanned the space, bouncing over her and Ashley as if they were hairy spiders that might jump out and bite him. “I gotta go.” He yanked his head back through the space and disappeared.
Sheila rounded on Ashley. “We owe him doughnuts.”
Ashley wrinkled her nose. “I think we scare him.”
Sheila giggled. “Probably. But that’s okay. He’ll warm up to us eventually.” She sat behind her desk and wrote a note to remind herself to get a thank-you for Jerry. “Okay, are you ready for the big reveal?” Her hand hovered over the file. “This feels so big.” Her eyes darted to the door. Julia might be able to hear them, and she loved to get the scoop out there on social media.
Julia wouldn’t blow this for them, would she? She’d been the first one to post a pic of Harper and Coach Wolfe when they were in the middle of hiring Coach—all without Harper’s permission. She’d also publicized pics of some of the groupies plastered against a few married players that hadn’t gone over well with their wives. Her defense was that big boobs sell tickets. Harper put a stop to that kind of marketing, but Julia had a reputation of posting what she thought would bring in the most likes and then ask forgiveness later.
They had a whole big reveal planned for the first audition, and only a handful of people, including Sheila and Ashley, were allowed to know the results beforehand. The graphic artist was sworn to secrecy, and the guy who programmed the Jumbotron was in on it too. Letting the cat out of the bag early would spoil the moment.
Sheila motioned for Ashley to come closer.
Ashley glanced over her shoulder before hurrying around the desk so she could see the paper too.
“One. Two. Three.” Sheila flipped open the folder, and they both leaned in to read the results. “Eagles!” She threw her hands in the air. “We’re the St. George Eagles!” Her loud whisper was too much, and Ashley shushed her.
“I’m not going to lie; I’m glad we’re not the bobcats.” Ashley fanned her face.
Sheila laughed happily, a sense of relief washing over her. “Or the blobfish?”
“Right?” Ashley went back to her desk and took a seat. “I’m sending the art sheets to the high schools now.” She began typing. They were sponsoring an art contest to involve the local teens. The students could submit designs for the costume. They wanted the kids who were going to enter to want to be in the stands when they announced what type of animal costume they would need to draw. The three possibilities were out there now, so students could sketch ideas before they needed to get serious about their entry. The winning design would be sent to brand development, who would actually create the costume, and the student would win season tickets. There were so many levels to this campaign that it made Sheila’s head hurt. No wonder she had sticky notes on every surface in her office.
“I’m sending the email to Ronda and Guy,” Sheila told Ashley so she could cross it off their list. Ronda was the graphic designer. She was the one who would work up the tee shirts, hats, and other gear. Guy had to put together the stuff for the Jumbotron, and the two of them would confer to accomplish their goals.
They spent the next thirty minutes frantically making a dent in their workload.
Ashley hit send and swung around in her chair. “What about the budget? Any ideas?”
Sheila stood up and began to pace, snapping her fingers as if she were conjuring ideas. The idea that they could reduce how much they spent was stuck in her head. “Think … think … where can reduce our spending?”
“We need to expand our reach. Bring in people from Nevada. The more we draw in for the competition, the better,” Ashley offered.
Sheila nodded. More money. We need money and reach. She glanced around the room. There was a key chain from the car dealership who was the “official dealership of the Redrocks” sitting on the edge of her desk. There was a mug from the burger place that plastered images of their double-decker with cheese all over the stadium when a home run left the park. Her shoes suddenly grabbed the carpet. “A sponsor.” The word came out like a balloon filled with helium. It floated out of her, dancing through the air.
“A sponsor?” Ashley repeated it, tested it.
Sheila nodded. Her shoes let go and her feet started moving at the same pace as her mind. “What was the name of that sports drink? The one we saw at the expo?”
Ashley’s finger flew across the keyboard. “Rev-Aide.”
Sheila clapped her hands once and then threw them wide. “Rev the St. George Eagle.”
Ashley nodded. “I like it. Do you think they’ll go for it?”
Sheila dropped into her seat, already opening up a new email. “I’m sending an email to David—I’m sure he’ll approve. Especially if we can get them to cover half of our budget for the contest.”
“Half? Seriously?” Ashley’s eyes narrowed with skepticism.
Sheila paused. “You’re right; two-thirds would be better.” She hit the back key several times.
Ashley got up and leaned over Sheila’s desk. “I was thinking half was too high.”
“Then you’re not thinking big enough.” Sheila grinned. She loved wheeling and dealing. “David should get back to me soon. In the meantime, find that guy’s number, the one we talked to at the convention.” Sheila hurried to put together a digital presentation she could email Rev-Aide. If she had time, she’d fly out to visit with the sponsor and woo them. Time was not a luxury. That thought brought to mind Brock and the time they’d spent together over the weekend. She really didn’t want him to transfer to another team—not when they were just getting to know each other.
Then again, who was to say he’d stick around for years to come? He had one more year on his contract. After that, he was a free agent. He could go anywhere. Did she want to get involved with someone who could take her heart on the road?
Her computer chimed an email alert, and she opened it. “We have the green light.”
“Here’s the number.” Ashley dropped a sticky note on the desk. “I’m going to see if there are bagels in the break room. I didn’t eat breakfast.”
Sheila breathed a sigh of relief that she could make the call in private. She tended to think big, and Ashley was the voice of reason. In order to wheel and deal, she needed to not have Ashley freaking out about the terms she laid out on the table. “Thanks.” With shaking hands, she dialed and put the call on speaker.
“Greg Downs’s office, how may I help you?”
Sheila quietly sucked air through her teeth. She hadn’t anticipated having to get through a secretary. Although why she didn’t think about it was beyond her. Of course he had a secretary. The man ran a thriving business. His sports drink was cutting into the market like a chainsaw. “This is Sheila Weaver from the St. George Redrocks. I spoke with Greg at the conference in Texas a couple months ago, and he asked me to give him a call.”
That was stretching it. He had given her his numbe
r just in case he could be of service. See, this was why Ashley couldn’t be here for this conversation.
“One moment, please.”
She didn’t have to wait long.
“Ms. Weaver, it’s good to hear from you.”
They exchanged pleasantries, and then Sheila bolstered her courage. “Mr. Downs, I don’t want to take up much of your time, so I’ll get right to the point. I’m in the middle of creating a mascot for the Redrocks—the whole experience is gathering more attention than we could dream.” Stretching, her inner Ashley cautioned. “As we were talking things over this morning, I just could not get your sport drinks out of my head, and I’d like to propose a partnership.”
“I saw the announcement for tryouts. I’m listening.”
Thank goodness for Julia and her social marketing. Sheila pictured Greg perking up at his desk and went on to explain that they’d like to name the mascot after his sports drink, in exchange for sponsorship. “I believe working together would be beneficial to both our companies. Can I send you a presentation?” Her fingers cramped as if she were already typing his email address into the “To” field.
“That would be great. Though I can’t promise anything until I’ve had a chance to talk this over with accounting.”
Sheila did a fist pump and went ahead and attached the hastily prepared presentation to the email. She hit send and offered up a quick prayer. “I understand, and I appreciate your time this morning.”
“It just came through. Hang on.”
“Sure.” The door began to swing open and she turned her back to it, taking her phone and a pad of paper with her. She jotted down random thoughts, things that would need to be ironed out with legal—there were contracts involved here. Her little project to fill the stadium in October was seeping into the other departments. Behind her, Ashley fidgeted. Sheila held up a hand, telling her to wait a minute.
A low whistle came through the speaker. “That’s impressive. I can tell you’ve put some thought into this.”
Her face burned red, but she didn’t believe in downplaying her talents. “I’m just good at my job.”
Greg laughed. “Do you need a job? I’d be happy to have you on my staff.”
Her blush deepened. Thankfully they weren’t on a video call. “I’m happy here. But thanks for the offer.”
They chatted for a few more seconds and then ended the call. She spun in her chair, her arms over her head expecting to celebrate with Ashley, only to find Julia was the one who had come in. She had a Cheshire cat smile and her hands were clasped in front of her. “Rev-Aide is our new sponsor?”
“No contracts have been signed,” Sheila cautioned. She splayed her hands on her desk, wondering how many of the notes Julia had read while her back was turned.
“And the mascot?” she prompted.
Sheila glanced down at the dirty folder, which was thankfully closed. “Will be announced at the first round of tryouts.” She couldn’t risk the info leaking even three minutes before the image went up on the big screen. She smiled. “Thanks, though, for all you’ve done to spread the word. The guy at Rev-Aide already knew about the competition, and he’s in Oregon. That made the conversation that much easier for me.”
Julia lifted her chin. “You’re welcome. Oh, there’s something at the front desk for you. They couldn’t get through on your line, so they asked me to let you know.”
“Thanks.” Sheila mentally waved off the urgency. She constantly received packages at work. It was probably the mock-ups for one of their promotional items.
Julia left just as Ashley was coming back in. She had half a bagel smothered in cream cheese in her hand. Sheila filled her in on the conversation with Greg.
Ashley nibbled at her breakfast. “Do you think they’ll go for it?”
“I think so. He sounded optimistic. I think he wants to; it’ll just come down to the numbers.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Maybe she should have gone with half the budget instead of two-thirds. Of course, Greg had no idea what their budget was or that the smaller number had been on the table. “He might come back with a counteroffer.”
“Then we look at that.” Ashley lifted a shoulder. She polished off her breakfast, and they went back to work. “The grounds crew is worried about the stage on the grass.” She scanned her screen.
“The grounds crew is always worried about the grass. Heaven forbid we disrupt the mowing schedule or put a divot in the outfield.” Okay, a divot would be bad. She didn’t want Brock tripping as he tracked a fly ball. “Send a note to the company we’re renting from and ask that they provide some sort of protection for the field. Plywood sheets might work. Check with the grounds crew, though, before you send it off.”
Ashley nodded.
There was a knock at the now wide-open door, and Candace stood there with a gift wrapped in Redrocks wrapping paper. “I know you’re busy, so I thought I’d bring this up.” She laid the gift on Sheila’s desk.
“What is it?”
Candace lifted both her hands. “It came wrapped, so I don’t know.”
Sheila lifted it and heard things shift inside. Ashley was now watching with as much interest as Candace. She carefully lifted a corner and then tore the paper off to reveal a chess set. She laughed. Across the top of the box was the word “Rematch.” A swarm of butterflies flew through her stomach and made her skin tingle.
“Since when do you play chess?” asked Ashley.
“Since last Saturday.” Sheila ran her fingers over the top of the box. “Brock taught me.”
She felt her ears grow warm with embarrassment. Keeping her and Brock on the DL was important for many reasons. She didn’t want the whole organization to know about them in case things didn’t work out. Call it her marketing brain butting into the relationship, but she preferred to avoid labeling what they had until they decided on a label together. Since they were several dates away from that conversation—they hadn’t even kissed yet—it was better to fly under the radar.
Candace giggled. “You’re blushing, which explains why he was blushing when he dropped this off.”
Sheila set the box on her desk, her eyes going back and forth between the two women who were pleading for information. “This was really sweet of him, but it was just a date.” Using more willpower than a chocoholic on a carb fast, she pulled her hands off the gift and threw away the wrapping paper. “I have several phone calls to make.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ashley and Candace exchange disappointed shrugs. Just as Candace was about to leave, Sheila stopped her. “Please don’t say anything about this.” She nodded to the chess set. “I’d like to keep it confidential.”
Candace cocked her hip. “My middle name is confidential.”
Sheila smiled. “Thanks. I knew I could trust you.” She could. Candace was one of the few people who didn’t have a wagging tongue. She probably knew all sorts of secrets.
When they were alone, Ashley rounded on her. “We are going out to lunch and you are telling me everything,” she hissed.
Sheila laughed. “I was planning on it.”
“Good.”
The rest of the morning flew by, and before she knew it, Sheila had recounted every minute of her date with Brock. “The more I talk about him, the more I like him. He just sounds good.”
“I noticed.” Ashley sipped her diet soda. “Plus, he’s yummy.”
“I know!” Sheila sighed happily, thinking about the way Brock’s sleeves stretched across his muscles. His strong arms were so very capable of holding her up. “I hardly thought about work the whole weekend.”
“Because you were thinking about him?”
“Well, yeah. But mostly because I had fun and relaxed. Do you know how long it’s been since I did something other than work?”
“Ages. You’re the world’s most boring best friend.”
“Hey! This job is demanding.”
“It is,” she agreed. “The good thing is that we both love what we do.”
Sheila nodded. She did. There was a great level of satisfaction in being good at her job. She liked going out into the community with the players, of serving the people in St. George whether by serving meals to the homeless, or talking to children about bullying, or painting over graffiti on the freeway. She’d done it all. Her days were always different, always providing the opportunity to meet new people. She could work all day every day because it didn’t feel like work.
But being with Brock was a whole new level of life. It was … flirty. She never flirted when she was on the job. He made dusting off those skills effortless. He’d drawn out her coy side with considerable—and slightly alarming—ease, making her forget her responsibilities. She’d have to be careful about that, careful not to lose sight of what was important: the team and her role in keeping the Redrocks together.
Chapter Twelve
Brock
Brock hung out in the dugout, away from the crowds.
Under the stadium was the players’ and coaches’ domain. They had batting cages, pitching facilities, all the medical gadgets and gizmos and offices as well as workout rooms. The Redrocks’ facilities had green paint halfway up the walls like the locker room. It always looked new, like it had just been painted the day before. The visiting team’s areas were all gray. Drab. A downer, really. It was a subconscious message that they were less than the home team.
Above him, the sound of thousands of feet and the general shuffle of people vibrated.
Brock wiped the sweat off his temple.
It was one thing to play baseball in front of thousands of people; it was quite another to pick up a microphone. Not that his job was all that hard. He just had to kill time between tryouts by asking the contestants and fans questions. He was supposed to be the color commentary, but the idea was making him turn green. His stomach didn’t like the fact that he’d agreed to take on this assignment. It was hard to say no to Sheila, though. So when she’d asked so sweetly, his lips had formed the words before the rest of him understood what was happening.
Heavy Hitter (Dating Mr. Baseball Book 4) Page 8
