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 the 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 about 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.”
She nodded. “Of course I do. I’ve had some time to t
ake in the news and you haven’t.”
“So you know I can’t make any decisions right now.” Hell, at the moment he couldn’t even think clearly.
Only the irony of the situation swirled in his head. He’d always been so careful. He’d always looked out for himself and the women he was with. Wasn’t that the point of protection in the first place?
“Dammit!” He slammed his fisted hand against the cocktail table, rattling the drinking glasses.
Carole wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. To her credit, she didn’t try anything sexual. She merely touched him, emphasizing that they were in this together.
He patted her back uselessly. He didn’t know how to help her, let alone how to help himself. “I need to go.”
She rose to her feet. “I understand.”
He drew himself upright. “I’ll be in touch,” he managed to promise.
“I know you will. You’re a good man, Damian.”
Her calm behavior was baffling him and he narrowed his gaze. The Carole he knew was all about how she looked and what she could get out of life. She epitomized the idea of me.
So why didn’t the idea of having an unwanted baby have her ranting and raving? And why did she keep extolling his virtues? The answer was obvious. Because she wanted something from him. Whether it was marriage or money or something else, he wasn’t going to sit here and try to figure out what right now. He needed to be alone to decide what he wanted.
Damian headed for the door and only began breathing again when he was solo in the hallway. Out of the blue, his entire life was in upheaval and nothing made sense.
One thing he did know with unqualified certainty—he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life saddled with Carole as his wife.
* * *
Micki needed a social life. She needed something to think about other than her time on an island off the Florida coast with Damian. Not even waiting for Lola to talk to Spencer Atkins about a merger was enough to distract Micki’s thoughts. Resigned to getting no agency work done while she was in this kind of mood, she turned to personal business instead.
First she e-mailed Sophie to see if she wanted to have dinner tonight, then she picked up the phone and scheduled a few appointments she had on her to-do list. Just when she couldn’t think of anything else to occupy her mind, her office intercom rang.
She pushed the reply button. “Yes?”
“You have an unscheduled visitor,” her secretary announced.
She shrugged. Whoever it was, it was better than sitting alone. “Send them in.”
Micki stood at the same time the door opened and Damian walked in. Her heart leaped inside her chest and an amazing feeling of happiness surrounded her, lifting the cloud that had settled on her shoulders since they’d parted at the airport.
She’d been deprived and now she wasn’t, and she shamelessly took in his appearance. He wore a pair of faded Levi’s that did little to disguise the muscles beneath the jeans, along with a solid white T-shirt that accented his tan. He still had the scruffy beard she loved, but his eyes were dim and he looked troubled. More troubled than the man she’d last seen worrying about his career, and she wondered what was bothering him.
She couldn’t suppress the fleeting hope that maybe he’d missed her and that was why he’d come by. Heaven knew she’d missed him.
She strode around her desk, trying for a casually unaffected tone as she greeted him. “Hi there.”
“Hey.” He shut the door behind him. As he smiled, his gaze scanned her body for as long as she’d studied his. “You look great,” he said at last.
She glanced down at her short pleated skirt and low-cut top. After leaving the island, she’d taken his advice and purchased more clothes that accentuated her feminine side. “Sophie and I went on a shopping spree.”
He nodded approvingly. “Works for me,” he said, his tone deeper than before.
He stepped closer and captured her in his arms, pulling her close, and before she could blink, his lips came down hard on hers. His tongue plunged into her waiting mouth and she opened wide, accepting him because he had come for her. If she could have scripted the scenario, she couldn’t have planned it any better.
She blinked and reality set in. Damian still stood before her.
She shivered and shook her head hard. “So what brings you by?”
He drew a deep breath and lowered himself into the nearest chair. “I have an appointment with your uncle.”
“Oh.”
“And I also need to talk to you.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Okay.”
He ran a hand through his hair. She’d never seen him so flustered before. “I need a friend.”
She wanted to be more, but knew she had to settle for whatever he offered. “You know I’m that.”
He bowed his head. Almost as if he couldn’t face her, Micki thought, and her throat filled with fear. “What is it?”
A knock sounded on her door and Micki’s secretary entered. “A summary of today’s news is here.” Amy went through the online papers and provided her with a morning update.
“Thanks.” Micki didn’t look over her shoulder at the other woman.
“I’ll just leave them on your desk.” Amy walked in and placed them down before taking off again.
“Sorry.”
He nodded. “That’s sort of why I’m here.”
She raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“There’s no easy way to say this so…Just take a look. Take a look at the focus of this morning’s news.”
Micki picked up the top page and scanned the headline. Miami Love Machine. Beneath it, the caption elaborated, “Miami legal secretary claims New York Renegades center fielder Damian Fuller is the father of her unborn child.” Micki, her stomach churning, immediately sat down in front of her computer and pulled up the article mentioned. A full color photo greeted her, showing the woman Micki recognized as Damian’s date from Tampa, leaving the Marriott Marquis on Broadway.
Micki’s head swam with so many emotions she couldn’t sort through them all. Shock, disbelief, pain and a completely unreasonable sense of betrayal all ricocheted around her mind and buffeted her body.
And to think she’d hoped he’d come to claim her as his own. Because even though he’d never promised her anything, Micki had held on to the hope that somehow she’d meant something to him.
This paper, whether or not it portrayed the truth, was proof of Damian’s playboy ways and his inability to care for one woman long-term. Micki had been a fool to think otherwise.
She slowly laid the paper down on the desk. Swallowing her own pain, she turned to face him. He’d said he needed a friend. Somehow, she’d be his friend. “What are you going to do?”
He shook his head and shrugged. “That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay…. Forgive me for asking the obvious but is it yours?”
“I wish to hell I knew.” He rose and paced the floor, ending up at the window overlooking the city.
She wondered if he found the same comfort in the sameness of the skyline that she often did, then realized that nothing would soothe her now.
“So you need to ask for a paternity test.”
He turned and nodded in agreement.
Micki swallowed hard. “And if the baby is yours?”
When he didn’t reply right away, she offered up an alternative that nearly broke her heart. “Marriage?”
“Hell, no.” He answered immediately. “Child support, yes. Support for Carole, maybe. But marriage?” Damian shook his head, then held it in his hands as if the pain were overwhelming.
“Are you asking my opinion?” she asked in disbelief. Nobody could tell him what to do.
He shook his head. “Back at the airport you said if I ever needed you for anything…to spin a situation or just to vent, I should come to you. So here I am.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t even think th
is would hit the papers. I had no idea till I woke up this morning, but I guess it needs to be handled, right?”
“Right,” she managed to say, stunned. “You want me to help you spin the story?”
He leaned against the plate-glass window, his dark eyes imploring as he merely inclined his head.
Her mouth grew dry at the thought of being his publicist for this very public, very painful ordeal. She definitely didn’t think she could work by his side and deal with her very real feelings for him while at the same time he worked through a relationship with another woman that would last a lifetime.
Apparently, he had no such trouble working alongside her in that capacity. The truth stung.
“You’re the best at what you do.” For the first time, a teasing grin curled his lips.
“Under any other circumstances I’d be flattered.” She let out a bitter laugh.
“Micki—” He reached for her hand but she pulled back, not wanting to touch him and set off the sparks she knew would follow.
“I need to step outside for a minute.” She needed time alone. Without meeting his gaze, she turned and walked out.
Once in the hall, she leaned back and forced air into her lungs. They’d been home from Florida for two weeks and he hadn’t as much as picked up the phone. Now when he was in the ultimate kind of trouble, he showed up on her doorstep. Here she was again, Micki Jordan, every guy’s pal, she thought in frustration.
But she didn’t question what she’d do. Micki could never turn down anyone in need. She knew better than to think she could ignore Damian’s plea. If he needed her professional help, she’d provide it.
But no way would she give of herself emotionally again.
* * *
“You’re an ass, Fuller,” Damian said, swinging his hand uselessly in the air.
He couldn’t believe he’d been so damn stupid. Selfish. Unfeeling. He’d woken up hungover and needing someone. Micki had been the only person who’d come to mind. The only one he’d wanted to share his pain with and the only person he trusted enough to ask for help. Unfortunately, in all his thinking about himself, not once had he taken her feelings into account.
Hot Number (Hot Zone Book 2) Page 13
