by Alice Ward
My heart sank deep into my chest, so hard and so quick that I couldn’t breathe for a moment. “It’s okay,” I muttered.
This was my job, my life. I knew how to put a positive spin on anything, even this. I was sick to my stomach thinking about it but I could do this.
He reached across the leather seat, touching his hand to mine as the driver pulled up to the tall white condos. He didn’t speak. He didn’t apologize for the fight. I knew I’d have to come clean if I wanted to clear this up. I just couldn’t. Not yet.
Fuck! Lana stood at the front doors as I exited the vehicle. Her lips were tightly pursed together, her eyes narrowed and slanted with anger. Todd offered me a sympathetic smile as he walked past her and toward the elevators. Great, leave me to be sacrificed.
“I don’t even know what to say to you,” Lana scolded.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my eyes moving to the floor to watch my feet shuffle beneath me. I didn’t want to deal with her, not now, preferably not ever.
“How did you let this happen?” she snapped.
“Let this happen? Are you fucking serious right now?”
Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and for a moment there was an aroma of fear that surrounded her. That fear quickly dissipated when her bright white teeth snarled beneath her lips, and a strange darkness filled her eyes. “I think having an attitude with me right now is the last thing you want to do,” she hissed.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s been a long couple days,” I apologized.
I wanted to slap her across her freckled face, but I knew better. If I was willing to push Todd to exploit his brother for this job, I could take her screaming.
I walked toward the elevator with Lana right on my heels. Inside, she continued her ranting about the events that had occurred the night before. I was still sore, still embarrassed about the video of me plastered all over the Internet, the last thing I wanted was Lana in my face.
“One night, one fucking night I trust you with a team player, and you let him get his ass kicked in an alley?” she snarled.
“He didn’t get his ass kicked,” I snapped to his defense, not exactly knowing why.
“And you, what the fuck were you doing there with him? How are we supposed to clean up your mess?” She cursed under her breath, then continued her rant. “I knew Rhett hiring a spoiled little rich girl would do nothing but cause trouble. I still don’t understand how you got this job.” She slung her words at me like an ape slings feces at an enemy.
I was at my door. My key was in hand, and there was no way I was letting her push her way into my room. “Lana, like I said. I’ve had a long fucking couple of days. I’ll clean up the mess, even the one where I was almost fucking raped and videoed for the whole world to see. But right now, you need to leave me the fuck alone.” I slid my key into the door, opened it, went inside, slammed my door, and didn’t even look back to see the horrified look I knew was plastered on her face.
My phone rang as soon as I set my bags down. What now?
Rhett’s number scrolled across my screen. Great, round two of the ass reaming. Just what I needed.
“Yes, Rhett,” I answered with the most professional tone I could muster up at the moment.
“Have you landed safely?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.
His calmness surprised me. “Yes.”
“Where did you get with Todd on the brother angle?”
Shit, I really didn’t want to deliver the bad news.
“He’s unwilling to exploit his brother,” I said calmly.
I waited during the pause, expecting to be screamed at, or worse, fired for my incompetence. “Well, I guess that’s noble. Did you explain how the fans could perceive this fight?” he asked.
“Yes, but the video of me shows him as a hero rescuing me from the thugs. I think that’s the angle we should take.” I hated the words as soon as I spoke them, but it would be the best spin. Instead of burying the video like I first planned, I’d push it into the limelight and exploit myself to save Todd. To save my career.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s the only way.”
“Okay. That’s great. I mean, it’s not great what happened to you, but it’s great it can be used for some good.” He stumbled over his words as he tried desperately not to sound so fucking excited about my misery. It’s just business, and Rhett Hamilton was a savvy businessman. Of course, he was excited to hear I had a solution, even if it was at my own personal expense.
“Are you doing okay? Do you need any time off to recover?” he asked kindly.
“No, sir. I’m fine.”
There was no way in hell I was going to show weakness even though I wanted to crawl into bed for a week and let this all go away.
“Well, why don’t you come up with some positives to post, no matter who the player might be. And, if you’re ready, start back on those interviews.”
“Yes, sir.”
I held my phone tightly in my hand as I watched the men pulling on my arms, my pants, and my shirt. My skin crawled at the memory. A deep sigh escaped my chest as I shared the video with the team page. My caption deemed Todd Morris a hero, in the wrong place, but at just the right time.
My eyes were heavy as I made it to the next morning's practice. The entire night was spent working on interview notes, replying to messages and posts on the site about the video, and the incident. Even with the hero portrayal, many of the fans were calling Morris an adrenaline junkie, saying he was out looking for trouble. It would be tougher than I thought to clear his history and the taste he’d left in many Mets fans' mouths when he was traded to the Beasts.
Every time I worked up enough nerve to say something to Todd, I found myself running in the opposite direction. I couldn’t tell him about my family, about my dad. That wasn’t my secret. Just like he protected his brother from the limelight, I’d protect my family. If he couldn’t trust me, then so be it. I had a job to do, and no matter how delicious his lips were, how hard his body, and how good he made me feel, I was going to do that job.
“Blake,” I called out as the guys left the field.
He turned toward me, smiled, and walked in my direction. “What can I do for ya, sunshine?” he asked.
I loved his southern drawl, his warmth, and the name sunshine took me back to the days when I was just a kid watching my daddy play. “I haven’t heard that in years,” I said softly.
“Pink cotton candy, nachos without cheese, and loaded hot dogs," he laughed.
“Yeah, I was a picky kid,” I agreed.
Something about being around him made me feel safe. He'd always helped to look after me when I spent long days at the stadium. I wasn’t sure why I’d been so reluctant to conduct his interview. “Do you care if I ask you some questions?”
“Oh, it’s my turn?” he asked, his tone sounding a little disappointed. I felt a twinge of guilt for not speaking to him sooner.
I nodded, offered up my warmest smile, and motioned him to the seat next to me. “How’s your old man doing these days?” he asked. And there it was, the reason I didn’t want to talk to him.
“He’s great,” I lied.
“Man, I remember those days like they were yesterday. You were so small, just a little thing,” he said with a laugh, his hand held to his hip reflecting my height, or lack thereof. “He could hit that ball so high into the sky it felt as though it’d make it to outer space.”
The look in his eyes warmed when he spoke of my dad. My heart ached for that man, the one he spoke of. I missed him.
“Everyone loved Spaceman.” He said it like Dad was gone.
“They still do,” I chimed in with a smile.
He seemed to snap out of his dreamlike state of reflection, turning his eyes to mine. “Yes, that they do.”
“What have you been up to since I’ve seen you last? Besides baseball?” I moved to my first question.
“I’ve just been raising my so
n,” he said cheerfully.
A son? I didn’t know Blake Osborne was a father.
“Man oh man, that’s one helluva story,” he said, falling back into his reflective state.
“Okay, why don’t you tell me?”
His eyes narrowed on me, his lips tightened. I watched his smile fighting to be displayed, and his head shake back and forth as if he were struggling with what to do. “Well, you’re an adult now. You know your dad was a wild man, right?”
I knew my dad was a hothead at times, but a wild man?
“We’d just beaten San Diego and were heading to the playoffs.”
I shifted in my seat, unsure if I was ready to hear about my dad being a wild man. “Is this something a daughter should hear?” I asked, half chuckling.
“Oh hell, your daddy was a good man. Wild at times, but always good.”
Relief rushed over me like a warm blanket as he continued to tell his story.
“He wanted to hit the strip clubs, ya know, have a little fun,” he said with a wink.
Oh God, maybe this wasn’t something I wanted or needed to hear.
“There was this stripper, Jasmine. Her skin was dark and smooth like milk chocolate, and her eyes so bright they lit up the stage.”
Blake’s eyes turned to little slits as he spoke. It was like he was trying to picture her as he sat there next to me. “Your dad, now he told me to steer clear.” He laughed. “Hell, I was too young and too dumb to listen.”
“All the guys took off, leaving me there at the club where I decided to wait for Jasmine’s shift to end. Your dad waited with me, trying his best to talk me outta the hookup.”
“Why did he care what you did?” I asked.
“He cared about everyone. There was something he saw in the girl that I didn’t, I couldn’t. I didn’t listen. In hindsight, I guess I should’ve.”
“Weren’t you married?” I asked, remembering a blonde woman who used to come to the games at times. She was sweet, always offering me snacks from her oversized bag.
He blushed and his eyes widened, the guilt obvious on his face. This wasn’t exactly the type of stuff I needed to make him look good with the fans. “Tell me about your son,” I said, trying desperately to change the topic from strippers, cheating husbands, and whatever else he had hidden in the story he was trying to unravel.
“Well, that’s what I’m gettin’ at,” he said with a sigh. “I didn’t listen to Spaceman. I hooked up with that girl, and don’t get me wrong, I loved every second of it. But afterward, I felt like an ass. I couldn’t even face my wife.”
I opened my mouth to say something but had no idea what that something should be.
He continued, “I wanted to tell her, but your dad warned me that she’d never forgive me, and to tuck it away, pretend it never happened, and never do anything like that again. Everything you do, it always comes back to bite ya in the ass. That’s what your old man said, what he always said.” He chuckled.
I remembered hearing that plenty during my childhood. Every time I asked for his advice. That was usually what I’d get. “Do what’s right, Kitty-Kat, cause everything you do can come back to bite ya in the ass.”
“So, did it? Come back to bite you in the ass?” I asked.
“Oh yeah. Five years ago, right after your dad retired. Jasmine came back into my life, this time with a two-year-old boy named Benny. Apparently, she’d been living with a man, believing the kid was his. When he left, he demanded a DNA test, and of course, Benny wasn’t his. That left me.”
“So, your wife found out?” I asked, feeling painfully sorry for this man, even though he was far from the victim. This still wasn’t anything I could use. Player knocks up stripper, loses wife, takes the kid. Ugh!
“Yeah. She tried to stay for a while. We went to counseling. Jasmine took off, saying the baby was too much for her to handle, but not before shaking me down for a pretty penny to sign over custody. We couldn’t have kids, so it was actually a godsend at first. My wife was happy, loved that little boy, and I thought was forgiving me for my indiscretion.”
“So, what happened?”
“He was diagnosed with autism at three. She took off, saying it was my punishment for being a cheater, not hers.”
My heart ached. The woman I once thought so sweet was now looking like a monster to me. “That’s horrible.” His eyes softened on mine. His stiff, squared chin relaxed, his lips parted, and a soft sigh escaped his throat.
“No. She was a good woman for trying. I don’t blame her, but then again, I don’t take the blame for Benny’s disease either. He’s a great kid. There’s not been one day that’s felt like a punishment being his father.”
“Wow.” I didn’t mean for that to be out loud.
He told me all about Benny. He was now seven, in first grade, and keeping up with the other kids pretty damn well. The look of pride in his eyes when he spoke gave me goosebumps. I jotted all the information in my notes, realizing that no matter how he got Benny, he was the story the fans needed to hear about.
I wrapped up our interview with a quick hug. It felt good to talk to Blake, especially after he quit bringing up my dad. “I bet your old man’s so proud of the woman you’ve become,” he said as he released our hug.
His hands were on my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “It was real good of Rhett to try and make things right for Bobby,” he said softly.
I stared into his eyes, my body frozen in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Redness soared onto his cheeks like wildfire, his eyes shifted from their lock on mine and lowered toward the ground. “Hey, Osborne, let’s go!” one of the players yelled from the corridor.
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “It was real good talking to ya, Katrina. I hope you got everything you needed.”
Yeah, I got what I needed, and then some. What did he mean by Rhett making things right for my dad?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Todd
It was the bottom of the ninth against the Mets in our first exhibition game against each other. The bases were loaded, my knees ached like a son of a bitch, and the Florida heat was making my balls so sweaty they stuck to my cup.
I caught Kat from the corner of my eye, snapping pictures, and posing the players with the fans. She’d worked hard the last couple weeks. From the looks of her, too hard. Her shorts were loose, baggy around her hips, and the tank top she’d once filled out so nicely just hung against her skin. Dark smudges under her eyes made it look like she hadn’t slept in days. What was wrong?
She looked over her shoulder, our eyes met, and somehow the universe halted, allowing us the time to gaze into one another’s souls. Yes, I missed her. I thought it was obvious she missed me too.
My knees screamed with agony as I squatted over the plate. My eyes moved over the field then toward Calvin on the mound, watching his movements and reading his thoughts. I knew he was tired, his fastballs taking a toll over the last several innings. I signaled a change up as the batter waited for the next pitch, he nodded. This was it. We were ahead 10-8, two strikes, and one hit could mean losing the game. That was something I wasn’t willing to do against my old team.
Calvin wound up the pitch, my glove moved to the lower left of the strike zone. Vibrations rushed through my hand and to my body as the ball slammed into my glove. “Strike three, yourrrr out!” The umpire's words were like music to my ears.
I jumped up, immediately ran to the mound, lifting Calvin from his feet and slinging him around like he was a rag doll. We were finally working well together. Fuckin’ finally! Kat snapped pictures of the two of us, smiling from behind her camera when she caught me looking at her. Damn, that girl was under my skin.
“You look like you’re having fun,” I said, leaning against the fence toward Kat.
Her face flushed with color as she turned to find me standing there. Yeah, I caught you lookin’ at me.
“Just doing my job,” she said sweetly.
“About that. I’m really
sorry… for everything,” I admitted.
Her eyes softened, her lips parted. I could see her cheeks fighting against the smile forming on her face. God, I’d missed that look, that smile.
“I’m sorry too,” she said. For what, I had no idea. I was the ass. She’d kept her promise to leave Marcus out of the media, using herself instead to spin the angle. There were still so many questions about why we were in that part of town, and I knew her life would be much easier if we told the truth. But she didn’t, and for that, I was appreciative.
“You’ve got no reason to be sorry.”
“You look tired,” I noted.
She let out a sigh, closed her eyes for a moment, and then stared into mine. “Rhett has me working overtime to set up charity events.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, and actually, I could really use your help.” She smiled, and I knew I’d help her with anything.
“Anything you need, it’s yours,” I offered, realizing that was a stretch.
“There’s an event scheduled at the elementary school up the street. I could really use you there to help ease the last incident,” she tossed out in her semiprofessional, semi-sexually seductive tone.
I nodded. “Deal. On one condition.”
“What’s that?” she asked with exhaustion in her tone.
“Go to the beach with me afterwards.”
“Why? You plan on wrestling a shark?” she asked, chuckling beneath her anxiety.
I slid up my sleeve, exposed the large scar I’d received from a cleat in the minors and smiled. “Been there, done that.”
Her eyes widened, her lips formed a circle of surprise as she ran her fingers across my scarred skin. Her touch brought something alive in me, not just sexually, something else, something deeper. I laughed at her naivety, explaining how the guy on third base had almost torn my arm off. “I’ll never play without my gear again,” I laughed. “So, is it a deal?”
“It’s a deal,” she replied.
There was that smile again, fighting not to appear. Her cheeks twitched, turned a pretty shade of pink that reminded me of the tender flesh between her legs, causing my dick to jump in my pants.
