“If you two don’t want this big dude to land on you, you’d better get moving.”
They broke apart and looked up to see all two hundred and ninety pounds of their designated hitter, Heath Darsey, coming fast.
Harper giggled.
Isaac took her hand and pulled her towards the trailhead. “Come on, we’ve got quite the hike ahead of us.”
Harper squeezed his hand. “I don’t mind a few breaks—if you need them.”
“If I need them?”
She reached up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, finishing the kiss with a nip at his bottom lip. “Yes, you.” She hurried off, laughing. Enjoying teasing him and kissing him and knowing that he loved her.
Isaac growled as he chased after her, and it wasn’t long until he caught her again. Laughing, she allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace.
Though they were the first ones over the cliff edge, they were the last ones to board the bus.
* * *
The stadium lights illuminated the night. Isaac took a deep breath of the grass and dirt and popcorn smell. Man, how he loved that smell. It was so many wonderful memories all packaged together. He’d added a new one to the group—catching Harper in his arms as she came off the cliff. Her kiss and her love. Guys weren’t supposed to get all mushy about things like that, but she’d opened up a side of him he hadn’t known before. Not in his first marriage, and certainly not since then. He donned the aviator glasses from the extras bucket and clapped his hands as players filed out of the dugout to take their places on the field.
There was a difference in the way they played tonight. Not that their skill level had miraculously increased or anything like that. Unfortunately. No, the difference was that the guys played happy. They were all smiles and tan lines. They tossed the ball back and forth, just for the chance to razz each other. Joe kept calling Devin “Cycles” because he ran his legs like he was riding a bike as he hung in the air. Cycles laughed, swinging his arms through the air and making as much fun of himself as anyone.
The fans loved the new attitude. The stands were full of grins even though they were down by two runs. The vendors sold more than usual, making trips up and down the stairs—joking with patrons. If Isaac could bottle this feeling and sell it, he’d be the billionaire.
The only one unaffected was Jackson. He glared at every batter and most of the team. His first pitch went wide and it shouldn’t have. Jackson should have been able to throw that in his sleep.
Isaac popped in a stick of gum and started chewing.
The next throw was hit deep to left field, where Travis Dadds picked it out of the sky.
“One down,” yelled Dustin from short.
Jackson stomped his foot as he waited for the cutoff man to throw him the ball. “Get your head in the game.”
Taken aback, Dustin’s throw was off and the catcher shoveled it out of the dirt by home plate. He tossed it easily to Jackson.
Dustin shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands, silently asking the second baseman what Jackson’s problem was. Devin rolled his eyes, telling Dustin to ignore him. They both hunkered down into their ready stance, waiting for the next pitch.
Jackson shook off the first sign and nodded at the second. He threw a fastball. Tommy Goodwill from San Diego swung hard and clipped the ball, sending it down the third base line. The umpire called it fair and the left fielder ran all out to get the ball out of the corner. Tommy ended up beating the throw to third base by half a glove.
Isaac blew out a breath. Those corner balls were unpredictable, but Dadds got there fast. He couldn’t ask for better.
“Get off your butt.” Jackson pointed at Dadds. “You should have had that one.”
Dadds pointed to his chest.
“Yeah, you. Learn to read the ball.”
Isaac shook his head. The carefree, love-this-game playing the team had had coming onto the field sank into the grass.
Something had to be done about Jackson.
Heaven help him, Isaac had an idea.
25
Isaac paced the conference room as he waited for the meeting to begin. He’d gone over numbers and stats with the scouting team. Gerry, the head of scouting, was on board, but he couldn’t make it to the meeting today because he was checking out a college kid in Arizona who showed a lot of promise. They had the first pick in the draft this year and needed a home run pick.
The GM, Jeff Hickman, came in, his large belly hanging over his belt and his tie askew. “Wolfe.” He offered his hand.
Isaac shook it. “Good to see you again.”
“You too. How are things going?”
“They could be better, but I’ve seen a lot of improvement in the guys over the last couple of weeks.”
“Me too. I like what you’re doing with the team.”
“Thanks.”
Harper came in, and Isaac took a second to just admire the way she moved. He couldn’t believe she was his and he was hers. Not that they’d had another chance at pillow talk, but that was something he hoped to change during their next road trip. They were scheduled to leave later that afternoon. But first, he wanted to get the Jackson situation taken care of. “Hi,” he said as he cupped her elbow and kissed her cheek.
She glowed back at him. “Hi.”
“Glad I didn’t get a welcome like that,” quipped Jeff.
They chuckled as Isaac led Harper to a seat at the head of the table. “What’s this about?” she asked.
Isaac settled in next to her. He so badly wanted to play with her fingers while they talked, but this was a professional meeting and he needed to keep his feelings in check. He’d linked his laptop to the big screen. The Redrocks logo bounced from edge to edge like a Pong ball.
“I was just telling Jeff about some of the improvements in the team. We’ve won more games in the last two months than in the whole year before.”
Jeff leaned back in his chair. “That was a rough year.”
“It was,” Harper agreed quietly.
Isaac patted Harper’s forearm. “I understand that was a rough time for your family and the team.”
Jeff cleared his throat. “Jake did his chemo treatments then. No one knew if they’d work. He made a lot of big decisions in a short amount of time.”
Isaac removed his hand from Harper’s arm and hit the space bar. A pie chart of the wins/losses of the time leading up to Isaac’s hire date popped up. The losses, in red, took up most of the circle. “This was the season before I was hired.”
He hit the space bar again and a new chart appeared. This one detailed their win/loss record from his hire date to the game they won last night. About of quarter of the chart was green. “We’re still not in the running for the division champs, but we’ve improved substantially.”
“Thanks to you.” Harper winked.
“Thank you, but that’s not why I’m showing you these numbers.” He brought up the next visual. “These are the win/loss stats for our pitchers. As you can see, our highest performers are Jimmy Holt and Vito Ramirez. Our lowest performer is Jackson Kimber.”
Harper went still. Jeff squinted at the screen. He pulled a pair of glasses from his front pocket and put them on.
Isaac left the visual there for a moment, let the image speak, and then switched to the next slide. “This is a comparison of the salaries of all five pitchers broken down to how much we pay them per loss. Kimber is making a lot of money to lose games for us.”
He moved to the image they’d taken in front of the red cliffs. The guys were all smiling except Jackson, who had stepped slightly away from the group. He was checking his phone when the photo was taken. “Then there’s the cost his attitude has on the team. His impromptu parties during away games accrued over five thousand dollars in hotel bills. And the Redrocks have been asked not to come back to several of those establishments. He’s giving the team a bad rep.”
Isaac finally dared to look at Harper. She stared at the tabletop. Had she even seen the
charts?
Jeff placed his palms flat on the tabletop. “I get the feeling that you’re building a case here, but I’m not sure where you’re going.”
Isaac smiled. “I’ve been working with Peter Glick to come up with a deal that we believe will improve our ability to win for years to come. The Redrocks say they’re in their building years, but they haven’t laid down a solid foundation. Buying contracts for guys like Kimber are the top of the pyramid.”
“You’re saying we shouldn’t have signed him in the first place?” Jeff asked incredulously.
“I’m not second-guessing decisions that were made before I got here. I wasn’t party to those planning meetings. I’m looking at the team as it is now.”
Jeff harrumphed. “Go on.”
“Okay, Seattle has been schmoozing Jackson for a few months—he hasn’t exactly been quiet about that. They think they can win the pennant this year. I say we let them have him; in exchange, we ask for Nolan Utley. He’s a decent pitcher with a good record and a hunger to be better. He has a weak curveball, but his confidence is high. We also get Andre Murphey and Jorge Puig from their farm teams. Our starting catcher, Rex, is getting older and I’m not sure how long his knee is going to hold up. If he goes out, it’s a season changer for us. Having a solid guy we can call up will keep us competitive.”
“You’re telling me you want to give up our golden goose for three brown ducks?” asked Jeff.
“With all due respect, that golden goose is laying rotten eggs.”
Jeff leaned back again, his face contemplative. “And Glick is behind this?”
Isaac breathed a silent sigh of relief that he’d worked so closely with the head of scouting. Peter Glick’s stamp of approval went a long way with Jeff. “He thinks we can sell Jackson’s contract, acquire all three guys, and save two million dollars this year alone.” Isaac turned to Harper. “If we do this, the new stadium becomes a possibility again.”
Jeff’s eyebrows shot up. “That would be a major win in my book.”
“At what cost?” Harper’s silence broke like a Louisville Slugger baseball bat, splintering in several directions. “We don’t give up on people here. Players have slumps—managers are supposed to get them through the slump, not ship them off to another team to deal with.”
Isaac gripped the chair. “I’ve tried to work with Jackson. This isn’t a slump; he’s determined to run the Redrocks into the ground.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Dad wouldn’t have put so much into him unless he knew something we didn’t.” She gathered herself and stood. “I suggest you stop wasting time trying to get rid of Jackson and start doing what you were supposed to do in the first place.”
Isaac felt her words like a fastball to the helmet. Wasting time? “I thought I was hired to manage a baseball team.” Angry heat built in his gut, surging like a wave. “I didn’t come to this decision lightly, but I had to make a tough choice and I chose the team over one player. Those guys work their butts off to shave a quarter of a second off their swing, they slam into walls to catch fly balls, and they push themselves to throw harder, faster, longer. They deserve the best I can give them, the best you can give them. This trade is what they deserve.”
Harper was shaking her head before he finished talking. Was she even listening to him? What made her so deaf when it came to this issue?
Lauren stepped in the room. “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Hickman. But Mr. Tridom is on the phone.”
Jeff pushed his large stomach out of the chair first. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
Harper gave him a watery smile.
“Jeff—” Isaac stopped him before he made it to the door. “What’s your ten-second opinion?” asked Isaac.
He shifted his weight. “I like the sound of two million dollars back in our pocket. It will make up for lost ticket sales if Jackson leaves.” He blew out a breath. “There’s always the chance Jackson could make this ugly.”
“How so?” asked Isaac.
“He could claim Harper traded him because of a broken heart, or that you never gave him a chance because he dated your wife. There’s all sorts of angles he could take.”
The information took a moment to process. Was he saying …? Isaac leaned into the table for support. Harper wouldn’t …
Jeff shrugged. “Harper would know best. If you can convince her—then you’ve convinced me.” He hurried out to take the phone call leaving Isaac and Harper to hash it out.
Isaac shoved his chair out and jumped up to pace the room. All this time, all the talk about trust and loyalty, and she’d been keeping this whopper of a secret from him. The wave of anger surged upward and out.
“Say something,” he pressed.
Harper remained still, her head hanging down.
“Harper.” He moved quickly around the table and grabbed both of her shoulders, pulling her up to face him. “My imagination is coming up with some horrible stuff. I need you to tell me what happened.”
She nodded, tears filling her eyes. “We dated. Two years ago, when Dad first signed him.” Pressing her fingers over her mouth, she sucked in air through her nose.
Isaac’s hands flew off her shoulders. “He was the guy—the one who tried to trick you into …”
She nodded. “We never …” She gulped. “He cheated on me. I walked away from baseball, and since Dad was all about baseball—” She dropped off.
The cold reality of the situation came into focus. Jackson Kimber had stepped all over Harper and somehow he still had a hold on her. His gut twisted.
She gave the slightest shake of her head. “I told you when you first brought this up—I wasn’t going to reverse Dad’s decision on Jackson.”
Isaac ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t know what to think. She said she didn’t love Kimber, yet she couldn’t live without him. And then there was the dad issue. “Harper—your dad isn’t memorialized in Jackson. He doesn’t live in contracts or deals.”
“I know that,” she snapped.
“Do you? I think the two of them are twisted together in your mind.”
She hugged her arms around her middle. “This team was his dream. He was a Jackson Kimber fan long before he was an owner.”
“So having Jackson around reminds you of your dad?”
“Maybe.” She buried her face in her hands. “It’s complicated.”
“You hired me—” He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “You married me because you needed a manager who had your back. A man who would be your partner in running this team. I’ve put my all into both the team and our marriage—and you let me down today.”
“I …” Harper’s eyes glistened. “You ask too much.”
“What’s too much—a little faith, trust—honesty?”
“You want me to choose between my dad and you.”
A sinking sensation overtook his thoughts. Isaac couldn’t compete with Harper’s dad—how do you compete with a ghost? “I’m asking you to choose what’s best for the team, best for you. Can’t you see that?”
“I’m not worried about what’s best for me. If I was, I’d be lining up interviews for when our contract is up. I haven’t even looked past the one-year mark because I can’t see my life without you and the Redrocks in it.” A single tear graced her cheek and Harper sliced it away. “You didn’t know him—you don’t understand.”
She was all over the place. “You’re right. I didn’t know your dad in this life—but I know the best of him, and that’s you—and I guess Seth. But don’t ever tell him I said that.” He flexed his jaw. Closing his eyes, he searched for the right words. “I believe in that part of you, Harper. I only wish you could return the favor.”
She sniffed.
He met her gaze. “I don’t ask any more from you than I’ve already given.” Isaac closed his laptop. “But maybe I have asked too much.”
Harper’s eyes widened. “What does that mean?”
“This was supposed to be a contract. I tho
ught it was more than that—I thought we were more than that, but I think I was the only one.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? If you care about me like I care about you, then why didn’t you tell me about Kimber?”
Harper’s mouth opened, but no explanation came out.
He was such an idiot. When Pamela first approached him, he said he wasn’t marriage material, and somehow he’d ended up in the same place he’d been with Amy—loving a woman more than she loved him. It sucked. “I’ve got film to watch.” He left without saying goodbye or looking back, Harper’s disloyalty spurring him on. He hated being blindsided by this news—hated how it made him feel vulnerable and stupid for not knowing, not seeing the signs.
Instead of heading to the film room in the basement, he went to the cages, flipped on the pitching machine, and hit the stitches out of a few hundred balls. Later that afternoon, his muscles ached almost as much as his heart. He’d resolved to do his best by the team—he owed the guys that.
Harper? He couldn’t fool himself any longer. She’d made her position clear from the beginning. She stood with Jackson. And he was just the manager.
26
Harper asked Thomas to drive her to the airport to see the team off on their road trip. They’d be gone for almost two weeks playing a four-game series against LA, then another one against San Diego, and wrapping it up with a three-game series against San Francisco coming home just in time to play three games against Houston.
She and Isaac were supposed to go together, but after their fight, she’d changed her plans. The team owner didn’t need to be there for much more than PR and she could conduct interviews from her office if necessary. Besides, she wasn’t sure what she’d done to her and Isaac or how she felt right now. She should have told him about Jackson—right at the beginning in Pamela’s office. She should have laid it all on the table so she’d never have to see the look of betrayal in those tiger eyes. But she didn’t know she would fall in love with him. And she loved him more than she’d ever thought possible. When she said she couldn’t imagine her life without him, she meant it. She and Isaac and the team were all connected, brought together by some great design to complete them all.
The Athletic Groom: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Page 20
