"And Uncle Yank's illness isn't the only reason," Micki said. "Let's face it. The newer agencies with their hotshot agents are snatching up the young athletes interested in money more than in loyalty. Uncle Yank needs backup and over time so will Spencer. A merger can benefit both agencies."
Sophie nodded in agreement. "Think about it. Uncle Yank brings young, raw talent with him in his other agents, but he's the big name. Same with Spencer. They're both too stubborn to realize they need successors. We could convince them that together they could be a powerhouse."
"A lasting powerhouse with a legacy after they're gone. Umm… I mean retire." Micki swallowed hard.
"So what do you think?" Sophie asked.
Lola rubbed her eyes and sighed. "I love you girls. I would do anything for you. Same for the business."
"And for Uncle Yank?" Annabelle asked, too sweetly, her intentions obvious.
Lola strode over and squeezed Annabelle's cheeks. "Sorry, honey, but you won't get me to pour my heart out. I'm over him."
"You taught us not to fib," Sophie chided.
"So who's ready for lunch? I brought us all Squagels from Cozy's," she said of the coffee shop located downstairs from the Hot Zone, specializing in salads and square bagels.
Annabelle sighed. "Mmmm. You are the best," she told Lola.
"But we still noticed that you changed the subject" Micki said.
Micki's stomach growled loudly and Lola teased. "Your stomach's on my side."
Micki laughed.
"I'll talk to Spencer. If he's still interested in a merger, we'll figure out a way to approach Yank," Lola promised, her voice somber. "He's away on business, so it might be a while though."
Micki paused. Now that she'd loved and lost Damian-in a manner of speaking-she felt an empathy with Lola she'd never had before. She couldn't imagine spending a lifetime side by side with a man who didn't return her feelings. Micki and her sisters were now asking Lola to come back into a situation from which she'd finally garnered the guts to escape.
She placed a hand on Lola's shoulder. "I understand all the reasons you don't want this merger to happen. We were selfish even to ask you to make such a sacrifice." She looked around at her sisters. "Maybe we should find another option."
Lola gave Micki a look of gratitude and for the first time Micki felt on more equal footing with the woman she'd always admired.
Silence followed and then Annabelle spoke.
"Micki's right. We were so wrapped up with what to do about the agency we forgot to consider your feelings."
Sophie nodded. "We've been thoughtless. And you raised us so much better than that."
Lola paced back and forth across the room, stopping directly in front of where Annabelle lay on the couch. "Come here. All of you."
Micki and Sophie stepped closer.
"You've grown into such beautiful, smart, caring women. I'm so lucky to have had you in my life. You're the children I never had and I love you." She paused and Micki sensed she was holding back tears. "It's because I love you that I'm going to talk to Spencer."
"But-"
"I'm a big girl, Sophie," Lola said, cutting her off.
"If the merger happens I can still work for Spencer and not your uncle. I can retire if I want to. Don't worry about me, okay? Okay." She clapped her hands in front of her, a sure indication her decision wasn't open to argument.
Micki nodded slowly, accepting Lola's choice. "Just know we appreciate you backing us," she said and gave the woman a huge hug. "Now we need a deadline or we'll put off approaching those two men forever."
Lola nodded. "I can't say you're wrong about that,"
"How about by Uncle Yank's annual birthday bash?" Sophie suggested. "By then we need to have spoken with them and coerced them into going along. Agreed?"
"Agreed," each of them murmured, leaving them with the knowledge that Uncle Yank's illness would forever alter all their lives.
Micki wondered how many more changes were in store.
YANK SAT AT HIS BIG OAK DESK and glanced at the photos on the corner. He couldn't see them well but he'd memorized their feel and order. He picked up the one with the rounded edges and ran his hand over the glass behind which lay a photo of Micki as a child.
Though he'd deny it aloud, he had a special place in his heart for the little one, as he liked to call Micki. How could he not? From the day the girls had come to live under his roof, she'd latched on to him like Noodle, who now lay under his desk. And Micki had never let go.
Unlike Annie who'd been older and aware enough to be scared and wary of her single uncle, Micki had immediately decided to love him and copy everything he did. From his weekly poker games, to visiting his clients on the road and in their locker rooms, Micki had insisted on trailing along.
At first he hadn't known what to do with her but he'd soon realized she was a joy to have around, even if he did have to learn to watch his mouth. Otherwise the school teachers called with complaints about her new vocabulary. The memory made him laugh.
So he blamed himself now that Damian hadn't come around as he'd hoped. Misplaced faith was a bitch, Yank thought. He'd mistakenly believed that if Damian spent time with Micki, he'd realize all that was absent in his life.
Just like you realize all you're missing?Lola's voice rose in- his head once more.
Yank scowled. "Difference is even if I know what I'm missing, there's not a damn thing I can do to make you happy. You think you waited on me hand and foot before? What do you have to look forward to if I try to win you back now?"
Yank was a proud man and these truths hurt, but they had to be said, at least to himself. Talking back to himself was the only way he'd keep himself from picking up the phone, calling Lola and begging her to come home.
DAMIAN SLUNG A TOWEL LOW on his hips and made for the steam room attached to the team's workout area. He stepped into the moist heat, sat on a bench, leaned back and groaned.
His muscles ached from a good workout and his head hurt thinking about the meeting he had planned for this afternoon. Carole had called. She was in New York and had said she needed to talk to him. Not a good sign.
"God, I'm beat."
"Join the club," Roper said.
Damian shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in the familiar smells that had always relaxed him in the past.
"How're the workouts going?" Roper asked.
Damian appreciated the small talk that would take him out of his own head. "Pretty good." He'd begun a slow routine of getting into shape with his trainer and the wrist was feeling surprisingly limber.
He'd be back on the field in a couple of days. Not a minute top soon considering that ass Carter had been playing with all the heart and soul Damian had possessed in his younger years. If he'd just lose the prick like attitude, he had potential.
And it galled Damian to admit it.
“I’m sure the time off on the island helped," Roper said.
"It didn't hurt."
Roper's stare bored into him, making him uneasy. Micki's name had never passed the other man's lips but it hung between them anyway. Everyone knew Roper and Micki were close and it came as no shock that Roper would make his way around to discussing the island. They both knew Micki had everything to do with Damian's last trip down there.
"You did a decent thing, taking care of Micki," Roper said.
Bingo. Damian rolled his head to one side, his shoulders suddenly tense. "Just how tight are you two?"
Roper chuckled. "If I was Carter, I'd torture the hell out of you making you think there's more between us than there is, but you're my captain so I'll let you down fast and easy. She's like a sister to me."
"Okay then." Damian exhaled hard. He'd been home from the island ten days and not an hour went by that he didn't think of her. "How's she doing?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Roper asked, making Damian feel completely juvenile.
He let out a laugh. "I've regressed."
"Nah. You're just sca
red shitless because she's more than capable of handling you."
"She's probably the only woman who can." The words were out before he could censor them.
"And to think Micki was convinced she couldn't possibly interest a real jock because she's too much like one. Too much of a challenge, in other words."
"One of the guys." Damian repeated Micki's expression as if he and Roper shared equal insight into Micki's psyche. In reality, the other guy had much more knowledge and information than Damian had.
"Exactly." Roper nodded. "I'm guessing you showed her she was wrong?" His voice held typical innuendo but Damian knew Roper cared too much for Micki to indulge in locker room trashing. He wasn't prying, rather he was testing Damian's intentions.
"For a while." And then he'd given her the kiss-off at the airport, probably reinforcing her insecurities. No matter how unintentional, Damian had screwed Micki big-time.
"So why don't you call her and make it for a while longer?" Roper asked.
"Can't." Damian eased his legs out in front of him. He'd begun to sweat and though normally at this point in the routine he'd be feeling mellow and relaxed, with Micki front and center in his mind, he was still wound tight. "I need to focus on rehab and playing."
"And that and Micki are mutually exclusive?" Roper asked, but before Damian could reply, the other man continued. "I'd guess so considering you have your hands full keeping Carter off your back."
A subject Damian could discuss with Roper without holding back. He and the other man had come up through the ranks together. They didn't have much in common except the game and mutual respect but it was enough to forge a bond between teammates.
"The kid has balls," Damian said of Ricky Carter. Damian understood the other man's drive and determination. He'd had it himself at that age. He'd also had respect for those who had come before him, and that was where he and Carter differed.
"If you need help stuffing him dick first into his locker, I'm your man," Roper offered.
"Thanks, John."
"My pleasure." Roper folded his arms behind his head and lay down on the long bench.
Silence descended but instead of releasing tension, their conversation had reminded Damian of all he'd left behind on the island in favor of the shit he'd returned to in his everyday life.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a towel and copied Roper, lying back and closing his eyes. Better than facing what lay ahead.
CAROLE PACED THE FLOOR of her New York City hotel room, which was twice the size of her condo, a one-floor apartment that she paid for with her job as a legal secretary. Through her position at a law firm specializing in sports contracts, she'd met a variety of athletes at a variety of stages in their lives. Some, like Damian, were close to retirement and others, like Carter, had youth on their side.
She was attracted to them all and when they reciprocated, she indulged in what she thought was every woman's fantasy. Sleeping with ballplayers, star ballplayers, made her feel special and one step up from the other struggling working women of the world.
She'd never thought twice about her lifestyle nor had she had a problem moving on when a relationship had bored her-until Damian had come along. She'd enjoyed his company and looked forward to his return trips to Florida. She thought he'd felt the same way despite his reputation and so she hadn't seen it coming when his interest had faded. Not wanting to lose him, she thought that if she'd played it cool, he'd come to his senses and realize he didn't want to lose her. For a short time, her plan had worked because he had called, wanting to see her on his last trip to Florida. Then he'd unceremoniously dumped her that same night, passing her off to Ricky Carter like she was a piece of meat to be shared.
Not that she didn't like Carter. She did. A lot. Enough to have slept with him starting back in April, while she was still trying to hang on to Damian. She and Carter had had a good laugh over the fact that Damian had thought they didn't know one another. He'd even paid for their night out.
Still, in her heart, Damian's actions had stung. And now she had a major problem. A life-changing problem that would make living in her small apartment awfully cramped.
Her hand came to rest on her belly, as it often had since the stick had turned pink a few weeks ago. A baby. Jeez, how the frig had she been so careless?
She shook her head. Careless wasn't the right word. She might like men, but she was smart enough to use protection each and every time. With each and every man, though in the past six months, there had only been two of them.
Damian and Carter.
She couldn't know for sure whose baby she was carrying, but she knew who was better capable of supporting her and this child.
She knew what she had to do, which was why she was in New York now. She was so nauseous she thought she'd die and she knew it had nothing to do with morning sickness.
She was petrified of telling Damian and yet she knew that he was the only one capable of sparing her from the same fate as her mother-pregnant and alone, raising a kid on welfare, a revolving door of men passing through. In fact it had been this pregnancy that had forced her to face reality.
Her life had been too damn close to her mother's. One man after another, nobody ever staying long, nobody loving her. Carole wiped the tear that dripped down her cheek. Pathetic, that's what she was and she never even saw it happening.
The sound of someone knocking on the door startled her and she ran to the mirror to quickly check her makeup before letting Damian inside. He was her one chance to fix her life and she couldn't afford to mess up now.
CHAPTER NINE
SINCE RETURNING from the island, Damian's game was running smoothly. On the field, he was the Damian Fuller his coaches and fans expected. His first game off the disabled list, he'd played all nine innings, singled, doubled, walked twice and homered once. In the field, his work had been his best in years. Most importantly, as a team the Renegades had won this past series at home and they were still solidly in first place. Carter was pissed at being put back on the bench, but that was the kid's problem. Damian was at the top of his game again and that's all that mattered to him.
His coaches, his manager and most of his teammates were happy with his performance. The only one not taking his calls was his agent, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why Yank Morgan was upset. But the old man had sent his niece off to the island knowing full well that, to Damian, nothing came before his career. Yank couldn't possibly think Micki would change his mind-although Damian had to admit she was the only woman who'd ever tempted him to say to hell with his single-minded philosophy.
He found himself thinking of her at the worst moments. When he was in the field during a game, he'd remember her determined face as she pitched to him, how well she caught a ball and how her hair fluttered in the island breeze. He'd always catch his wayward thoughts before he screwed up on the field. Each time he'd push her out of his mind and promise himself no more. Then he'd imagine how much worse it'd be if he had to deal with her on a daily basis, and he'd assure himself that his decision to keep his distance was the right one.
Damian didn't think his agent would want him to screw up the end of his career over a woman. Not even the older man's beloved niece. And since he planned to stay away, Damian figured the old man would thank him for sparing Micki even more pain. Hell, Yank Morgan would come around in the end because, like Damian, he understood the game came first.
As a professional athlete Damian couldn't afford to let his emotions get the better of him. But as he walked into Carole's New York hotel where she'd asked him to meet her, his gut churned and even his chest hairs prickled with unease. Something about her coming to New York and calling him out of me blue just didn't feel right.
She greeted him warmly but her half smile did nothing to put his mind at rest, either,
"Thanks for coming, Damian." She led him into the oversize hotel room, lavishly decorated and probably a lot more expensive than Carole could afford.
Still he wasn't abo
ut to pry. "You're looking well," he told her. Not good, well. He chose his words carefully.
Though she looked beautiful as always, he had to be careful to keep his distance, both physically and emotionally. He didn't want her getting any wrong ideas about their relationship. Or lack of one. For him, things between them had ended the night they'd gone to Lacie's joint.
"So why make the trip north?" he asked.
"Sit." She gestured to the fabric-covered chair.
The flowers jumped out at him, big and ugly and as frightening to him as her somber tone of voice.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Did I ever tell you that my mother never married my father?" She let out a high-pitched laugh. "In fact she never knew who my daddy was."
They were over. Why in God's name were they talking about personal things like her past and scary notions like unmarried, pregnant women? "What's the point?"
She bent down and reached for his hand, "I don't know how to tell you this-“
"Just say it" His heart pounded a mile a minute and icy tentacles of fear crept up his spine.
"I know we used protection but…I'm pregnant." As if on cue, large teardrops fell from her already watery eyes. "And before you ask, yes it's yours."
"I wasn't going to ask," he lied.
She gave him a forced smile. "You're a good and decent man," she said softly and for a split second, guilt for distrusting her crept into his gut.
Then he reminded himself that this was a woman who'd slept with more ballplayers than just him. He'd never asked what she did when he was out of town, which had been most of the time, and she'd never offered details. He should have questioned, he realized now when it was too damned late. She was placing the responsibility squarely in his lap.
Damian was soaking in sweat, worse than when he played in Florida's sweltering heat, but somehow he maintained his composure and didn't let her see how badly his nerves had kicked in.
He ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Look Carole, you must realize this is a shock."
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