Clutch Hit

by Faith O'Shea

  He didn’t, either.

  “Consideration is good.”

  She opened the cover and said, “This is your checkbook. Have you ever used one before?”

  “No need.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  She showed him how to pay by check if the need ever arose, explaining every part of the check to him—routing number, account number, date, pay to the order of —and explained it was the written amount that was the legal binder, accuracy of that more important than the numeric amount.

  She set it aside and asked, “Ever use a debit card?”

  He shook his head.

  “You can use it like a credit card, but instead of getting a bill at the end of the month, the money is automatically taken out of your account. I’ll take you to one of the branches and show you how to make cash withdrawals if you find yourself short.”

  She handed it over and said, “Put this in your wallet.” Handing him another slip of paper, she told him that it was his password, or access code. “You’ll have to key it in every time you use the card. It’s set up that way to prevent theft.”

  She fingered the cards next. “I applied for both an Amex and Visa card. And as the commercial says, you’ll never want to leave home without them. They’re the gateway to your purchase power. You can use them any time you see something you want to buy. All within reason. You can’t charge, say, a Maserati or a Picasso.”

  “I don’t want a car like Rique, and I have no need for Picasso.”

  “Picasso was a painter, artist, and his work can go for millions.”

  “What does he do with it all?”

  “He’s dead so it’s not an issue for him.”

  “Who gets the money?”

  “Whoever bought it prior to the sale.”

  “These paintings can be bought and sold?”

  “Yeah, just like real estate. Most everything here can be purchased for a price. Even things that aren’t for sale.”

  “This will take me time to get used to.”

  “I’m beginning to think it’s not in your nature to overspend on things, but you don’t have to be frugal anymore.”

  Even knowing the amount of money, he had in his account, he couldn’t see himself spending much. In contrast to some of the other Cuban players who’d hit the jackpot with mega-watt contracts, he wanted very little by way of material goods. If he had clothes and food, he’d be a happy man.

  After she pulled the laptop so that it sat between them, she said, “This is yours. I had it set up for you so you have virus protection, Word, and I purchased a protection plan so if you drop it or something breaks, it will be replaced at no charge.”

  When she opened it up, he saw a picture of Harborside.

  “I can change the wallpaper if you want something different. I love the place myself and this is the screensaver I use.”

  It was a nighttime shot, with lights blazing and the steel gleaming.

  “I like this. It is a good reminder of where I’ll be playing.”

  “I’m going to connect you to the internet so you can Google for information, access any websites you might need.”

  He watched as her fingers tapped the keyboard. “The code I’m entering will work here but nowhere else. At other places, like a coffee shop or hotel, you’ll need to sign on to the Wi-Fi service they offer. Sometimes it’s secure, sometimes not. No banking on unsecured sites. There are hackers out there and you don’t want to give them a way into your accounts or your identity.”

  “I understand.”

  “Any questions?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ll ask as they come up.”

  “You can text me when you need to know something. I’m available anytime and anywhere.”

  He’d prefer to call, hear her voice, but he wasn’t going to push any more than he had. There was a quiet ease to their interaction, and he didn’t want to disturb it.

  She leaned back against the chair and took a sip of her beer.

  “What did you and Seb do today?”

  “He let me drive around. Taught me how to parallel park. He says I will need to know how for the test on Friday.”

  “Did he mention anything else you’ll have to do?”

  “Reverse in a straight line, perhaps park on an incline. The wheels need to be turned in, and I must put the parking brake on. When I come out of it, I must remember to turn the wheel back so I don’t hit the curb.”

  “He does know what he’s doing.”

  “He said he went with his sister when she had her test. Oh, and I can’t forget to look behind when I’m backing up, not to use the rear-view mirror.”

  “Newer cars have a screen on the dashboard that helps you guide the car straight back, but do as he said. I don’t want you to fail because you used technology. Oh, I’ll have to program your

  Blue tooth so you can drive and talk at the same time. But no texting.”

  “I know. That is in the manual.”

  She nodded.

  “You got back earlier than I expected. Did Seb have plans for the night?”

  “He is binging on Game of Thrones. Is that the right word?” With her nod, he continued, “He said he’s got a whole season to catch up on. He asked if I wanted to hang out and watch it with him, but I declined.”

  He wanted to be here when Alicia got home. He didn’t have much time to worm his way into her heart, not with spring training coming up.

  There was animation in her voice when she asked, “He watches that? It’s one of Casey’s favorite shows. I don’t get it, but it’s extremely popular and this is the last season so there’s been a lot of hype around it.” He loved it when she dropped the pretense of distance. Her smile was genuine, and her eyes sparkled.

  “What is it about?”

  “It’s a fantasy drama based on a series of books by some guy. It’s in its eighth season. I’m not so much into fantasy, so I haven’t read them.”

  Interested in learning more, he asked, “What do you read?”

  “Mystery, true crime, biographies. Real life.”

  “No fantasies for you?”

  “I’m living my fantasy. I don’t need dragons, thrones, or crowns.”

  He knew what she meant. He was living his as well and it was because of her.

  “What happens when we are in Florida?”

  “You’ll live in one of the condos we leased. I’ve assigned you to a place with Seb and Rique.”

  “Seb has already asked if I want to share expenses with him.” He smiled and added, “Be roomies.”

  She graced him with a smile in return. “There won’t be many expenses. The team picks up the cost for the condo and utilities.”

  “We will need three bedrooms. Is that possible?”

  “I guess you haven’t learned yet that anything’s possible here.”

  “For a price.”

  “Of course. There has to be equity. Supply and demand, the cornerstone of American economics.”

  “You’ll be living there as well?”

  “I will. If Case decides to go, we’ll live together. Be roomies.”

  “If? I thought she was going to be working for her father.”

  She scowled, hesitated, and explained the problem Case was having with her fiancé.

  He could think of only one reason Greg might deny her the job.

  “Does he know about her relationship with Seb?”

  “No. There wasn’t any need to tell him. Now that Seb is playing for her father, it changes things.”

  “How?”

  “Seb might make a reference to working with Mac before or… being in school with her. Greg knows there was a high school romance but doesn’t know with whom.”

  “Then why is Greg being difficult? Is there no trust there?”

  She was biting her lip. When she looked up and met his eyes, he read annoyance.

  “Maybe. Or maybe he just wants her under his thumb.”

  “And Casey would allow this?”
>
  “I’ll be extremely disappointed if she does, but there’s more to it than just that.”

  He waited but she didn’t tell him what it was.

  He could only wonder if it have to do with Seb. He had a feeling everything concerning Casey had to do with the man who’d left her.

  “When will she decide?”

  She murmured, “Knowing Case, the day before she leaves. She’s a procrastinator. There’s also the fact that she doesn’t like conflict.”

  “Will you talk to Mac about it?”

  She shook her head. “She asked me not to.”

  “But you thrive on conflict.”

  She flicked him a smile.

  “And you know that how?”

  “Anyone who negotiates for a living must. And as you are good at what you do, it follows.”

  He pulled the laptop closer and opened it. After typing Alicia Nilsson into the box, he hit enter.

  Several interesting sites came up, along with some images of her.

  “I have already read these articles, but I go back and re-read them occasionally.”

  Every time, he gleaned another tidbit about her he’d missed before.

  He clicked the first headline.

  Greenliner Front Office.

  Nilsson headlines a host of promotions and hires by Greenliners on Thursday.

  It went on to name a number of people associated with the team. A Spanish translator, assistant director of player development, a behavioral health specialist, mental heath coach, and director of amateur scouting.

  “This doesn’t tell a searcher much, but the piece is by none other than Robert Nilsson. Does your father write about you a lot?”

  She pulled at the laptop to see what article he was reading. It was just a short news piece on the hires that had taken place the year she got her promotion.

  “That’s nothing in-depth, just informative. He does that when the situation requires it.”

  He clicked the arrow to go back and chose another headline.

  Greenliner’s name Nilsson VP of Baseball Administration

  This article gave a detailed list of her duties, which had surprised him when he’d first read it. She had a lot of responsibility on her shoulders and from what he’d learned, she carried them well.

  The next was the front office bio. This was the one he was looking for. He began to read it aloud.

  Alicia Nilsson was named Vice-President, Major and Minor League Operations, in January 2017, and the fourth female in Major League Baseball to achieve that benchmark.

  In her role, she actively oversees the daily operations for both Greenliner clubhouse and the team’s affiliates.

  For two years prior to that, she worked under Daniel DeLorenzo, president of Baseball Operations, in administration, handling all minor league players and staff such as contract negotiations, budgets, and all transactions.

  In 2018 she won the Gilbert Demers award, given to a member of the club who demonstrates the same dedication, resourcefulness, and work ethic as the man the award is named for.

  Nilsson is a graduate of Boston University with a BA in sports management and was awarded an MBA from Questrom Business School. She is single and lives in Malden, MA.

  She was still sitting quietly when he finished.

  “That award is an honor. It speaks to how you do your job.”

  There was a twinkle in her eyes and a glowing smile on her face. “That was a surprise. I had no idea it was coming and…it was one of the best nights of my life.”

  He looked over and asked, “Who is Gilbert Demers?”

  “He was a left fielder who played for the Greenies for close to fifteen years. He won six Golden Glove awards and came close to beating Ted Williams’ batting average record. When he retired, the team kept him on as scout and special assistant coach. He was one hell of a player, man, and resource. His number “twenty” has been retired and hangs on the right field wall at Harborside, and he was inducted into the Hall of Fame the first year he was eligible.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “He is. Ninety-three and still attends most of our celebrations, although he does less now than he used to.”

  “You’ve met him, I presume?”

  “He’s the one who presented me with the award. That was the honor.”

  The next article had to do with her being a key component in the extension the second baseman signed at the end of last season.

  “You talked Reyes into another three years here.”

  “Yeah, I was lucky. We developed a connection while he was in the minors and it carried over. When his son was born a month early last year, I held his hand. Talked him through some tough nights. His signing didn’t have much to do with intense negotiation, just a desire on his part to stay here.”

  He closed the laptop. He knew what he needed to, and it would be a privilege to call her wife. He hoped she’d give him the chance to do that and prayed that she could say she was proud to call him husband one day.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Allie was in the bathroom, getting ready for their early morning meeting with Jelani, the lawyer who’d be handling the Mariposa Arteaga immigration visa. She could hear Mateo rambling around. He’d been dressed since she’d gotten up, wearing a shirt and tie, wanting to impress the woman who’d be helping him get his mother here.

  While applying her mascara, she heard a muffled yell, “Will we leave soon?”

  She stopped, the wand in mid-brush, not wanting to smear it, and yelled back, “I’ll just be another minute. Relax. Our appointment isn’t until nine. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  She was wearing pants again but had chosen a black blouse with a lace yoke this morning and a red fitted jacket. It might be a bit dressy for her afternoon meeting with the new manager of the Pittsfield Transit, but since Mateo had dressed for the meeting with the lawyer, she didn’t want him to think this wasn’t important to her. She didn’t have to pretend. It was. The sooner she could get his mother here, the sooner she could move forward with the divorce. She was beginning to like him. Add to that the attraction she felt, and she was swimming into dangerous waters.

  She looked at her reflection in the mirror, fingering her hair back and pressing her lips together to smooth out the lipstick. After buttoning the jacket that nipped her waist, she shimmied her feet into her heels and went out to join the man she could hear pacing the length of the kitchen. She’d decided she wouldn’t feel comfortable so dressed up for the afternoon task, so she had grabbed her satchel, tucked away another blouse to change into, and slung it over her shoulder.

  He spun around to face her, and she could see the appreciative gleam in his eyes.

  “You look very nice.”

  She tried hard not to let his compliment affect her, but it was a lost cause. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was another reason she’d primped this morning. The Jaws theme sounded in her head as she saw the shark fins appear in the distance. Yup. Dangerous waters.

  “I have to go and meet with the new manager in Pittsfield after seeing Jelani. Do you want to come along for the ride?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I would. Seb’s going to visit his folks, so he’s not around and Rique isn’t answering my texts.”

  “You’ll meet everyone at the wake tomorrow. You’ll soon have more friends than you know what to do with. This team’s a community within itself. Everyone reaches out.”

  “Yes, I know. Several players have done so.”

  She was curious, wanted to see if it matched her mental list of who would have called or texted already.

  “May I ask who?”

  He ticked them all off on his fingers. “Reid, Reyes, Ovitz, Motts, Ritter, and Heredia.”

  No one on the list surprised her. Not even Heredia, who’d been the newbie up until a week ago.

  “Every one of those players will be out on the field with you. That there is our starting roster.”

  She got her coat out of the closet and made
for the door.

  He was right behind her.

  “I know. Last night after you went to bed, I Googled them on my cell, like I did you. They all sound like they play because they love the game, not just for the money.”

  “That’s the idea. Those are the kind of players we want.”

  “I am already comfortable with Reid and will reach out to him to work with the Jimmy Fund. Mac said he expected us to do community service and I figured I could start there.”

  “You probably already know his daughter had…has leukemia. She’s in remission, but still has her regular check-ups. He’s one of the hospital’s biggest supporters. He’ll grab you for any and all events whether you volunteer or not.”

  “I will gladly participate. I have never met Melina but Rique told me all about her. He calls her a true warrior.”

  Her heart squeezed. He was one of the most genuine persons she’d ever met. She doubted he could ever betray anyone, his integrity too much a part of who he was. But those thoughts were more dangerous than the ones she had about tangling the sheets with him. The latter would be for the hell of it, the former would mean a whole attitude change… and trust, no matter who she dated, would always be an issue.

  Um, no dating involved here. You jumped right into the volcano. And the hot lava of emotion was melting all but need and longing.

  When they reached the parking garage, she asked, “Do you want to drive?”

  “It would probably be a good idea. I need to learn how to get out of here.”

  She heard him reach into his pocket for the keys and then the click of the locks. She inserted herself into the passenger seat, belted up, and held her breath but she needn’t have. He was competent behind the wheel, even with her less-than-stellar directions, her body still sizzling, her brain in melt-down. She was prodding him to the left lane, then reminding him about the one-way, the traffic moving at a snail’s pace. She’d thought about taking the T, giving him a lesson in in-city transportation, but with her leaving right after for Pittsfield, it was impractical.

  “There’s a garage up ahead. Get into the right lane.”

  He did so in one smooth motion, not irritating anyone to the flipping-the-bird stage with his actions. She was duly impressed.

  When they entered the offices of Woodley and Fisher, it seemed it was his turn to be impressed. He glanced around the well-appointed waiting room while she checked in with the receptionist and when she went over to take a seat, he was gazing out at the city from the huge window, his hands in his pockets and a gratified smile on his face.