by Nikki Duvall
“J.D.!” she protested. “Your shoulder!”
“What shoulder?” He smiled against her lips. This was the playful J.D. she’d fallen in love with a year before. His gentle rhythm was driving her need to unbearable. She was so close.
Ty came crashing through the door, spotted his two favorite people on the other side of the shower glass and commenced to scream.
“Just a minute, Ty. Mommy’s… Mommy’s so close.” But she wasn’t. Not anymore.
“Everything okay in there?” Uncle Gus shouted from somewhere on the other side of Halee’s bedroom.
Halee cried out and grabbed a towel, twisting out of J.D.’s embrace. J.D. began to laugh. “Yes!” she shouted. “Just in the shower. Ty’s fine.”
“Breakfast is ready,” said Gus.
“Okay!”
Ty continued to scream.
“Want me to come get him?”
“No!” Now Halee was laughing.
J.D. shut off the water and grabbed a towel of his own. “To be continued,” he said, planting a wet kiss on her neck.
“As soon as possible,” she added, countering with a deep, passionate kiss.
She opened the shower doors and Ty immediately ceased his tantrum. “I think he’s got you trained,” said J.D.
“What about you?” asked Halee seductively. “Are you trained?”
“Like a Pavlov dog.”
~TWENTY-TWO~
It was a shame that Marcus’ limo was designed with glass between the driver and the passengers. It wasn’t that Halee wasn’t delighted to see Marcus again. No one could come close to the positive energy Marcus emanated at 6 A.M., no one. It’s just that sitting across from J.D. all pimped out in a silk shirt and wool slacks tailored to hug every muscle of his hard thighs was making her slightly, well, insane with desire.
To top it off, Uncle Gus had insisted that he would look after Ty while she went to work, never leave him out of his sight. And then he’d pulled out a Glock from his suitcase to prove his point, leaving her with no guilt about leaving her child behind and no child to run interference between her libido and her duty.
“So which apartment do you want to take,” asked J.D., “yours or mine?”
She raised her brows and smiled a wicked little grin. “You’re moving in?”
“Is that a problem?”
Halee let her eyes drop over J.D.’s fine body and sighed. “When will I sleep?”
J.D. laughed. “I can promise you food, shelter and protection, but not sleep.”
“How about sex?” she whispered, glancing at Marcus’s eyes in the rear view mirror. His expression remained passive but he leaned in and turned up the radio.
“Plenty of sex,” said J.D. “Just not right now. The Federals trainers are putting us on a strict sex diet, as in no sex until the Series is over.”
“What if your girlfriend threatens suicide?”
“Not a chance. She has too much to look forward to.”
“Confident, are we?”
“Very confident.”
Halee leaned over and gave J.D. a sweet kiss. “Just one of the things I love about you.”
“I can’t wait to hear about all the other things,” murmured J.D. against her lips. “Coming to my game tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“I’ll make sure you get the tickets.”
“Do you think it’s okay to take Ty out into public? I mean, do you think he’s in any danger?”
“No problem. New York’s finest just happen to have the seats behind you.”
“What about in front of me?”
“Bobby’s a Cubs fan. It wasn’t an ethical decision for him to come out and help.”
Halee laughed. “Maybe he can drive home with Uncle Gus. That’s a long trip for an old man.”
“Not one with a Glock.”
***
Halee plopped down in her office chair and stared with disbelief at the stack of work on her desk. She’s only been gone two weeks, and already she felt a month behind. If she wanted to get to the game on time, she’d have to buckle down and plow through this paperwork. No lunch today.
It was going to be hard to concentrate on work after sharing a shower with J.D. The tender way he’d treated her had brought tears to her eyes. She licked her lips, recalling the taste of the kiss in the limo. Was she dreaming, or were the man of her dreams and the life she’d always wanted really within reach?
About an hour into the pile, she looked up and met Victoria Pryor’s stare. “Back on time. I appreciate it, Halee. We’ve lost ground with you out.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“You look rested.”
“I’m feeling stronger, thank you.”
“The child is back?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Victoria plopped into the chair across from her desk. “We have a lot of work to do. I want to build on the momentum you started at J.D.’s engagement party. Jack Keeting has offered to host a fundraiser at his penthouse. He insists you plan the event.” She raised one brow. “Something going on between you and Jack?”
“No, Ma’am.”
“Jack is quite selective about his women,” said Victoria.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“He says you have his number.”
“I have his business card, yes.”
“And his personal number?”
“In case of an emergency.” Halee removed her jacket. It was getting hot in here. She started to unwrap her neck scarf, then hesitated. She didn’t want to tell the story one more time, didn’t want to relive the nightmare.
“When I was your age, I used to think I had to sleep my way to the top.”
Halee frowned. “What are you implying, Mrs. Pryor?”
Victoria smiled a dirty little smile and turned to go. “Just be careful.”
It took Halee several minutes to quiet her urge to march into Victoria Pryor’s office and resign. Instead she walked briskly to the mail room and delivered a stack of signed contracts to the young clerk on duty. On the way back, she took a tight corner at double speed and ran straight into the arms of Jack Keeting.
He held her a little too long. “I’d write you a citation for reckless hall walking,” he murmured against her neck, “if I wasn’t so delighted to see you.”
Halee stepped back and smoothed her dress. “Sorry, Mr. Keeting.”
“Jack,” he corrected.
The cotton scarf around her neck dipped down, revealing the thick red scar she’d tried so hard to hide. She moved to wrap it tighter.
Jack caught her hand. “I see you’ve been associating with the wrong crowd.” He reached up and touched the wound lightly, his tired eyes full of concern. “Did you get my flowers?”
Halee looked away. “Yes, thank you.”
“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft, soothing.
“Stronger.”
“The child turned out to be more trouble than you expected. As did your ballplayer.”
Halee pulled in a deep breath. “Mrs. Pryor tells me you would be interested in hosting a charity event,” she said lightly. “We should make an appointment to go over the details.”
“How about now? You can come see the penthouse. I’d like to show it to you. I want you in my life, Halee.”
“I can’t leave the office. I’m way behind…”
“Surely Victoria will understand.”
“J.D. won’t.” The words escaped her before she could catch them. Her eyes met his and held them.
“He’s returned to you then.” Jack’s eyes defied her response. “For how long this time, Halee?”
“I don’t really care to discuss…”
“He’s a driver, Halee. He’ll do anything to get what he wants and then when he has it, it loses its luster.” Jack moved closer and lowered his voice. “He’ll leave you, Halee. Just like all the women before you, he’ll leave you.”
An overwhelming rush of emotion filled her throat, cutting off
her windpipe. She wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t do it, not in front of Jack Keeting. Pushing her way past him, she headed for the nearest exit and burst out onto the streets of Manhattan, sucking in the thick city air as if she’d just run a marathon. Storm clouds were forming overhead, anxious to release an icy rain from an early October sky. She kicked off her high heels and broke into a run through block after block of crowded streets, bolting across traffic as if she didn’t care whether she lived or died. Five miles later, wet and cold, her anger and fear were under control. Then, leaning against the granite façade of the nearest skyscraper, she cast her eyes toward heaven and prayed Jack’s words were nothing but lies.
~TWENTY-THREE~
“Where is your husband?”
Victoria Pryor glanced over her shoulder at the usual crowd forming in the Federals owner’s skybox. “Missing. How fortunate.”
Tony smiled and surveyed the field. The formality of national anthem and first pitch had all been taken care of. The home team Federals had taken the field under a bank of rain clouds and were tossing a ball back and forth to loosen up. J.D. was avoiding outfield flies, letting Simone cover both left and center fields.
Tony frowned. “Have you thought about what I said?” he asked.
“I know what I’m doing, King.”
“Clearly not or Shaw would be on the bench.”
Victoria sighed and glanced over her shoulder for a waiter with a fresh drink. “I don’t have an interest in a long term relationship with J.D. Shaw. I need him to close out the season, nothing more.”
“Then why all the fuss about the fiancé?”
“I like Halee,” Victoria said with a slight lift of her painted red lips. “I wanted her to win.”
“You knew about them from the start?”
“Darling, I always do background checks on my players. Why do you think I staged his contract signing at the literacy benefit?”
King shook his head. “You ruin Shaw’s future, you ruin Halee’s future.”
“I’m hardly responsible for the rest of her life. J.D. is a commodity. Strictly business.”
“Bad business.”
Victoria groaned. “I wouldn’t expect you to agree, King. You’re his agent.”
“An agent understands talent. John is a thoroughbred. You don’t run a thoroughbred to death to win one race; you calculate his value long term. He’s young. He’ll win you five World Series rings if you play your cards right.”
“He lied about his contract,” said Victoria. “He needs to learn a lesson.”
“I was the one who lied,” said Tony. “Punish me.”
“Hmm. Sounds like fun.”
“John always believed in his immortality.”
“Maybe he’s right.”
“His trainers agree with me. They’re gearing up to pay you a visit.”
Victoria rolled her eyes and gulped down a glass of white wine. “Doesn’t anyone respect authority anymore?”
“Victoria, how long have we known each other?”
“In what capacity?” she asked with a devilish grin.
“Business.”
“I believe it’s been ten years, give or take a few months.”
“You know what I’ve admired most about you during that time?”
Victoria glanced behind them. “Lower your voice, Darling.”
Tony chuckled. “You never let emotion get in the way of a good business decision. Shaw misled you, but he didn’t do it to rob you blind. He did it for a chance to play in the major leagues. He wanted to be a Federal.”
“He lied to me. I’ll bring him to his knees, show him who’s boss.”
“You’ll be the loser, Victoria. Another team will pick him up and in the meantime he’ll go back to Oklahoma and be the home town hero.”
Victoria’s phone rang. She checked caller i.d. and smiled a crazy little smile. “Or I’ll break him both ways. Mr. Long!” She slid her cold blue eyes toward Tony. “I appreciate you returning my call. I understand you’re selling your ranch and I’m interested in making an offer.”
Art Pryor entered the skybox and made his way through the crowd, pausing at the bar. He studied his wife’s proximity to Tony with a frown. Tony nodded and squirmed in his seat. Art approached from behind and placed one hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “How are we doing?”
“First inning,” said Tony casually, leaning away from Victoria. “No score.”
“Victoria Pryor. From New York. No, I haven’t seen the land,” she said to the caller, placing her hand over Art’s and smiling up at him. “But I understand it’s a very nice property.”
“What’s she up to?” asked Art softly.
Tony kept his eyes on the field. “She’s trying to buy a ranch out from under one of your players.”
“Which one?”
“Shaw.”
“I thought he was on rest. What’s he doing at bat?”
“I’ve been asking the same question.”
Victoria disconnected. “Stubborn old coot,” she said to the phone. “I’m offering him cash and he won’t give me the time of day.”
“We already have two ranches,” said Art. “We don’t need a third.”
“I don’t want the land,” said Victoria. “Just call it leverage.”
“I call it blackmail.” Art slid into the seat next to Victoria’s and slugged down half his drink. “Shaw’s the best player I’ve seen in years. I don’t like the way you’re playing with my investment.”
“He doesn’t see himself as an investment, Darling. He sees himself as a free agent and he does whatever he pleases. I can’t control him.”
“We’re up one game in the Series, Shaw just hit a double, and you think you need to change things? Let it go, Victoria.”
“I can’t.”
Art motioned to a man by the bar. The man walked over. “Tell Carter to pull Shaw. I want him rested for game three.” The man nodded and disappeared.
“Don’t worry,” said Art, kissing Victoria’s palm. “I’ll tell everyone it was your brilliant decision when Shaw gives us the Series.”
***
The fourth inning had just begun when Halee took her seat behind the batter’s box next to Uncle Gus. Bobby was one row down, munching on his second hot dog of the game and heckling the Hawks batters. Six stone faced military types filled in the row behind them. Halee settled Ty on her lap and sighed. “It’s freezing, Uncle Gus.”
“It’s October,” he said with a smile. “I got my bags all packed. Bobby and I are gonna head out tomorrow morning, do a little fishing in the Catskills on the way back to Chicago.”
“Can’t you stay a few more days? J.D. leaves for St. Louis tomorrow and I’ll be all alone.”
“You see that line of tanks behind you?” asked Gus. “They’re setting up shop in the lobby of your apartment building. I expect they can do a lot more damage than old Uncle Gus.”
She pulled her Federals stocking cap lower across her ears. “Where’s J.D.?” she asked, scanning the field.
“They pulled him last inning,” said Bobby. “Now I can relax and watch the game.”
“What happened? Is he alright?”
“I don’t know,” said Bobby. “He just didn’t come out after the second inning. They put Talmey in center field. He’s dropping everything that comes his way.”
Halee pulled out her cell phone and began texting J.D.
“You can’t call him,” said one of the men behind her. “Players can’t take calls during games. Protects the team against illegal bets.”
Halee blew out a frustrated breath and glanced behind her in search of a hot dog vendor. She’d skipped lunch trying to catch up with her work. Jack’s dire warnings about J.D. had ruined her appetite after that. Now back in good company, she realized just how low her blood sugar had really sunk. She was still recovering from losing the baby and after this morning’s hot shower scene, she was anxious to get pregnant again. This love for J.D. was overwhelming her and firing up her p
rimal need to procreate. Nutrition was her friend. Scanning the stadium for food opportunities, she landed on a familiar face and caught her breath.
Catrina Hiett sat between two well-dressed men, each vying for her attention. She was dressed in a fur lined camel colored raincoat with matching fedora and tall leather boots. Her makeup was perfect, her blonde hair curled and sprayed. She crossed her long legs and pretended to listen to her suitors while she stared with viper intensity at Halee.
Halee quickly looked away. She held Ty tighter. He whined and struggled to release himself from her arms.
“What’s the matter?” asked one of the men behind her. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“I did,” said Halee softly. She could feel Cat’s steely eyes burning holes into the back of her head like an episode from the sci-fi channel. Cat radiated evil. Halee’s heart pounded in her chest. She willed herself not to look.
Ty screamed. “Give him to me,” said Uncle Gus.
“Hot dogs! Get your dogs here!” Halee heard the vendor walking down the stairs behind her and turned in her seat to signal her interest. Her eyes met Cat’s again.
Cat rose from her seat and crooked one finger, beckoning Halee to meet her in the aisle. Halee turned back and tightly closed her eyes.
“You want a dog?” asked the vendor.
Halee fumbled for her purse. “Yes. Two,” she said. “Uncle Gus? Bobby?”
“Yeh, I’ll take two,” said Bobby.
Uncle Gus shifted Ty higher on his lap. “None for me. I could use a beer, though.”
Halee handed the vendor a twenty dollar bill and bit into her dog with nervous energy. She tried to focus on the game, but all she could think about was Cat somewhere behind her, plotting her demise. She was just about to start on the second dog when the man beside her nudged her and pointed to the end of the row. Cat stood in the aisle, staring at her with those eerie green eyes.
“Who’s that?” asked Gus.
“No one.” Halee handed him her dog. “I’ll be right back.” She slid out toward the aisle.
“We need to talk,” said Cat, leading Halee up the stairs toward neutral ground. One of the NYPD tanks followed.
Halee hesitated. “We don’t have anything to talk about, Catrina. Leave me alone. Leave J.D. alone.”
