by Lulu Pratt
I laughed. I also agreed. In fact, I nearly got up to kiss him. Something bigger than me had taken over my body, and it was that animal attraction that had made me yearn for him. That had made me willing to have sex with him even though it was against the rules. Love did things to you that made you not recognize yourself. This was one thing. And it was stressful and frustrating not to be able to act on it.
“Let’s just not go there,” I said weakly.
“Sure thing,” he said. “But Scarlet, I need to be totally honest with you at the same time. I really do want you in my life. I don’t think we know each other well enough yet to really know where this would go, but here’s the thing — if I can get back to the Major Leagues, that non-fraternizing rule will not apply anymore.”
“And you’ll be in Detroit. Not to put too fine a point on it, but that seems like a fair drive.”
“Fifty-eight point six miles,” he said.
I laughed. He had done his homework.
“I think it’s actually pretty close, and worth the drive. Plus, I have my pilot’s license. So…”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am. I got it a few years ago. I don’t have a plane anymore, but I could get one, and that could be our thing.”
“I don’t need to have unfulfilled dreams right now,” I said. “Let’s just work on this plan to get you the hell out of here.”
“I agree. That is the best plan.”
“Okay. But right now is not a good time. Can you come to the yoga class tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“And how about an appointment — let me look at my schedule — tomorrow at five?”
“We have a seven o’clock game.”
“Okay. So that’s not good?”
“No, on second thought… Let’s do that.”
Leduc had arrived and was hovering around the door. I waved him in.
“Hey,” he said to Harrison. “Nice to see you.”
“You too, Leduc. Everything good?”
“Gentlemen,” I said. “I don’t mean to break up this bromance, but can we get to business?”
“Yes, ma’am!” said Leduc, laughing.
“I’m outta here,” said Harrison. “À demain.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s French. It means ‘until tomorrow,’ ma’am.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?”
“I liked the idea of giving you the French tongue,” he said, winking and turning. Although I knew Leduc saw me do this, I watched his sexy ass leave the room.
“Uh, Ms. Ravenwood,” said Leduc a little hesitantly. “Are you there?”
“Of course,” I said, turning to him. “Now, where were we?”
“I was here, you were on the moon.”
Chapter 30
HARRISON
THE PRACTICE was helping me a lot, and although I had done okay on the weekend, it was true what Buzz had said — that Clay Carter had handed me those two wins. But he wasn’t there today for the practice at all, which was strange. I never trusted him, but now that it was becoming clearer every day that the fight was between him and me, I trusted him even less. He was up to something, and I knew it.
I was determined to show what I could do, and I worked hard during the practice, and it caught the eye of Oscar, who shook his head in confusion at the change that had come over me. “You’re doing good today,” he said. “You ate your Wheaties?”
“Something like that,” I said.
“Well, good. I was thinking about sending you to be the starting pitcher. What do you say?”
“I love it,” I said. “I feel like my arm is good for it. So, whenever you’re ready, you let me know.”
“Trouble is, Clay is on fire too. But he’s not here. So we’ll see.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. Right after that, I got my fastball really cooking, and it sent me into that mood where I was in the zone. I threw rockets that day, and by the end of the practice, I knew I was back. I just had to convince others that I was.
The following day, I was ready to go to yoga. I had worked for more than a week and perfected, I thought, most of the flows and all the poses. When I walked into the room, I was greeted by a wide smile from Scarlet and ogles from the ladies in the back. I took my place at the front of the class, and worked hard. The bad part was that with almost every pose, Scarlet came and corrected something. I was, at first, grateful, but as the class went on, I was getting frustrated that none of my poses, none of my flows were good enough. I admit that I was a perfectionist, but still, this treatment seemed like I was being singled out.
Clay didn’t show either, and I was starting to wonder if he had given up the competition between us, knowing I was just better than he was. I mean, I was better than him, but I wanted a little competition from him. Fairly simple, but effective.
But I was getting mildly annoyed that Scarlet kept coming up to me and adjusting my positions. At least, I was until I realized that she was doing it to be near me.
This went on for about twenty minutes, and then, unexpectedly, Clay strode into the room with a brand-new outfit for doing yoga. It was clear that he was trying very hard to look good. I guess some part of his ugly little heart was still competing with me for the attention of the ladies. And as he put his mat too close to me, he whispered, “So, you haven’t given up yet, huh?”
“Given up?” I whispered. “I’m a professional with ten years’ experience in the Major Leagues. I don’t know the meaning of giving up.”
“Eh, shove it!” said Clay, and he began to move through the flow. The strange part, as far as I was concerned, was that his positions, when I could see them, were clearly all over the place, and wrong. But Scarlet made no effort to correct him. I think I knew why.
After the class, the ladies from the office crowded around me, and Clay tried to take their attention off me. I was as pleasant as I could be, and in fact, this attention helped me a lot in terms of improving my attitude.
“So, Harrison, you’ve been playing mighty fine ball lately,” said one round-faced red-head, whose cheeks were still pink from the exertion.
“Well, thank you. I have been getting some extracurricular help from the tutor there,” and I indicated Scarlet.
“Yeah, we both have,” said Clay, with a slobbering smile.
The women ignored his comment. “We heard you might be the starting pitcher tomorrow against Wilmington. Are you ready?”
“Well, that’s not my call, but I would be honored to start.”
“I’m starting, like I started the last three games. This guy only got the win when the manager gave it to him,” Clay injected.
I knew that was true, but I also knew that I was very eager to prove that I was worthy of those wins. “If you can come to the game tomorrow, I’ll do my best for you. I mean that,” I said, and there was a sigh from the ladies. I know it was vain to admit, but this kind of encouragement was mother’s milk to me. I just loved it and thrived on it.
“I’ll be there,” said one.
“So will I,” said Taylor, the receptionist
“I’ll be going now,” said Heidi, high-fiving the others. “Hey,” she went on over her shoulder to Scarlet. “Wanna join us tomorrow night?”
“Sure!” she said. “I’m working late anyway.”
“So. Margaritas and baseball? Meet us at five-thirty.”
“I’ll meet you at the game. I have to work until six.”
“Your loss. I’ll bring some liquid refreshment to the game.”
“I’m starting,” said Clay, weakly, as the women moved as one to the showers. Scarlet smiled as Clay and I moved out to the showers. As I entered the locker room, I realized that both Leduc Jackson and Jimmy Johnson, our catcher, were in the class. Funny, I thought, that I didn’t clock them. Weird, even. But then, for the beginning of the class, I was only interested in Scarlet, and for the second part of the class, it was monopolized by Clay. But now, this was my chance to get the heck awa
y from him.
“Hey, Jimmy,” I called. “Wanna toss a few this afternoon?”
“Sure!” he called back. Jimmy was a guy who had played for a season for the Red Sox before he had a hamstring injury. He’d recovered, but in the process, lost his drive. He was one of those guys who was good, though, very good at inspiring others.
“What are you doing for lunch?” I asked.
“Leduc and I are going to that new steakhouse downtown. Want to join us?”
“That okay with you, Leduc?”
“Sure. The more the merrier,” he said.
We hightailed it to the parking lot before Clay caught on to what we were doing, where we all jumped in Leduc’s old rattle trap of a ‘96 Lincoln Town Car.
“This is some ride!” I said, smiling at the amazingly well-preserved parade float that was Leduc’s car.
“Yes, she’s my baby!” he said.
“I love it. Feels like I’m in a parade.”
“Listen here, Harrison,” said Jimmy, as we drove along the street to the steakhouse. “I thought I’d tell you a little tidbit just for your own consumption. Clay is trying, like actively trying to screw you over. Just be aware. He ain’t a nice guy. He looks like a hayseed, he acts like a hayseed, and he talks like a hayseed, but he got an evil side to him.”
“I’m very aware of that, trust me,” I said. “I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”
“In fairness,” said Leduc with a wry grin. “That’s pretty damn far.”
I laughed. “Well, that doesn’t scare me. I am on the mend, and I’m working with that new physical therapist, which is helping.”
“Damn!” said Jimmy. “I couldn’t have that woman working on me! She’s too hot.”
“That’s sexist!” said Leduc, although I could see he was laughing.
“Damn straight it’s sexist,” Jimmy laughed. “But I know myself, and I know when I can trust myself and when I can’t. And I can’t trust myself right now with that woman. She fine though, I tell you that, and very clever, and she knows her business. But I can’t have no woman that attractive looking at my body. I wants me a ninety-year-old Russian babushka.”
I laughed. But I understood perfectly what he meant. There was that rule and there was temptation, and there was maleness, and there was safety. All of this added up to a worry. Even for me, and I knew I returned the attraction for her, and I had to be careful. That stupid rule was making my life miserable. And I had to go to work with her in a couple of hours.
“You know what I mean,” said Jimmy.
“I’ll be honest. She is fine, but she’s not extraordinary. She’s a pretty girl — woman — and that is fine. You’re a good-looking man, and I have my doubts she’s out for lunch discussing how much she can’t work with you because of your endowments.”
“You don’t think women talk about us?” Leduc mused.
“Of course they do, but I have a feeling they don’t objectify us the same way. They — I don’t know — they’re different.”
“Sure they are,” said Jimmy. “Sure they are!”
Chapter 31
SCARLET
I WAS HONESTLY expecting to have to grab Harrison and drag him, screaming and kicking, into this regimen. I had planned some very intensive exercises to be done with me. It was, after all, my main job as a physical therapist. The yoga class was great, but it was an extra. It wasn’t my actual job to do that. Although I know it was very welcome around the team, especially from the women in the office. I’d even noticed a change in their manner, their way of interacting, and their physical appearance, by the third week of the program. Although, I will admit it was starting to wear me out.
I got a call from Buzz Nolan about a quarter to five. “Hello, Scarlet,” he said.
“Hello, Mr. Nolan. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I will dispense with the usual formalities. I just wanted you to know we’ve approved an additional pay for your yoga class. We all notice how much the ladies are appreciating it and how it has improved morale. So, if you are okay with it, you’ll be receiving an additional one hundred dollars a week for the classes.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” I said.
“Well, we’ve already approved it, so it’s happening. I just want you to know why, and that it is appreciated. And that we need it to continue. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Why sure. It’s great. Thank you.”
“Of course, I am expecting great things from you, Scarlet. I truly am.”
“And I hope to deliver for you, Mr. Nolan.”
“Buzz, please,” he said.
“Okay, Buzz,” I said. “And I think we finally got through to Harrison Brett too. I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude for that.”
“Well, maybe. That’s all, Scarlet. Thanks.” He rang off, and I was left wondering about his opinion of me. He talked to me like he was someone from the past. I mean, he was an older man, and he was southern, and had gentility, and so I found myself really wanting to please him. I guess that was what they mean by management material.
Harrison knocked on the door a few minutes early, taking me by surprise.
“Come in!” I called, but I was already up and ready to go.
“So, what have you got for me?” he asked.
“How long ago was your operation?”
“Just over two months.”
“I see,” I said. “Then we could dispense with passive motion, especially since you’ve been using it already. But I am really trying to make sure it is all clear, and so I will try this for a few minutes, if it’s okay with you. So, I am going to move your arm around in a circular motion, so that we can hear if there are any physical impediments to the recovery. You said you’ve been getting back into the swing of things, right?”
“Absolutely. It is going really well now. I have almost no complaints.”
“Almost none? What do you have?”
“Really, it’s nothing. Just sometimes I hear or feel a kind of click when I wind up, and it sometimes throws me off my game a little. Or my aim.”
“Let’s have a look.” I began to rotate his arm in a windmilling motion, slowly and methodically. I took his forearm in my hands and began to move him, listening intently for any resistance from anything inside. It was a really nice feeling, moving slowly while touching his soft skin. He had excellent musculature, which was very pleasant to look at and it made me very pleased to feel him in a way that was professional and not designed to turn him on or affect him in any sexual way. It had often occurred to me that it would be a good idea for all couples to experience this so that they didn’t blow their relationship wad so early, and could just enjoy each other’s bodies. But that was me.
And he was absolutely perfect, no physical barrier, or obstruction. I needed to let him know this.
“Harrison, one thing I can tell you for sure is that the healing is going nearly perfectly.”
“Nearly?”
“I mean, I can find no obstruction at all. It seems to be perfect. But there are tendons and muscles that need to acclimate. To the new and better feeling. Do you know what I mean?”
“I do.”
“Your range of motion seems to be complete, and the issue now is that there are some muscles, because of the recovery period you needed, that are unused to exercise. Simple things, like putting the dishes away, can be difficult.”
“Actually, that’s true. Mind you, I’ve never been much for putting dishes away,” he laughed.
“Well, that’s another issue. Here, take this resistance band in your left hand.” He took it gingerly, as though he thought it was a trick. It was tied to a ring in the wall, and I had him stand perpendicular to it, with his left side facing the wall. “Okay, now keep your elbows tight to your body and move your hand ninety degrees so your forearm can manage this motion.” I watched as he did this. “Is there any pain?”
“Not yet,” he said, although I could see he was trying hard not to show
pain.
“If you have any pain, you must let me know. Pain is a way of gauging the level of healing. So, do not think you are being a wuss.”
“Okay,” he said, gasping slightly. He completed this motion well and when we had finished, he was obviously gauging his level of discomfort.
“Still okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “No pain.”
“Okay, then. Now we are going to turn around, and keeping that resistance band in your hand, pull it to your body.”
“Ow!” he said.
“What was that?”
“Not sure. But it didn’t feel good.”
“I see. Okay. I’m just suggesting this, and you can say no, but there is a sauna here on the premises, and it might be a great idea to use the heat to loosen your muscles. Of course, you need to actually play in an hour.”
“And I found out I’m starting pitcher, so the stakes are a little higher.”
“Oh okay. That kind of changes things. We can’t really strain your muscles without making your actions and reactions different, but it is a good idea to apply heat — or cold — after you have exerted.”
“How about we do the sauna after the game?” he suggested.
The eroticism of the suggestion was pretty clear to me. I felt a warm rush come over me. It was the devil on my shoulder. Did I want that?
“Come by after and we’ll see,” I said.
And God! Those three hours were excruciating! I couldn’t watch — I went, sat with Heidi and the girls, and listened to them talking about his sexy ass, all the while imagining that I would be sitting in a sauna with him in a few hours. And Heidi had a thermos filled with margaritas, and I admit, I partook. I was not drunk, but my resistance was down, and I found it difficult to concentrate on the game. One thing I noticed, though, was that he was playing quite well.
At some point, I actually did have to be a little professional and watch his arm. When I got around to watching, which was around the fourth inning, I noticed that he was playing at a Major League level. The worry I had was that he might be trying to impress me, or Buzz, or Oscar, and overstretching his actual muscles. It was a worry that was not borne out by his work, though, and after the game, I looked at Heidi.
