by KG MacGregor
Chapter Eighteen
Almost overnight, the Longdogs were all the rage in Leland. Eleven games into the season, they were in first place in their half of the Valley League at 9-2. And Oscar Lopez already had fourteen home runs.
While there were still plenty of seats available, especially in the bleachers, Britt was thrilled the more expensive club seats behind home plate were starting to fill up, thanks in part to the three-hour flash sale on Monday that slashed season ticket prices by twenty percent. She’d make up that discount in a week’s worth of concessions.
“Right this way. We’ll take the elevator to the top floor.” Along with Carly and Justine, her special guests in the owner’s suite tonight were the Hendersons, Joe and Margie. Dr. Joe Henderson was the administrator at Grace Hospital, seventy years old at least, and according to Justine, nearing the decision to retire.
“Hold up,” Carly said. She hurried over to the box office to buy a ticket.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Britt said when she returned. “You’re my guest.”
“I can’t accept freebies. I’m a public official.”
“But you aren’t here as a—”
“I know, but Tiny Watson has been pissed ever since I beat him in the election. He’d love to call me out for an ethics violation. It’s not worth the hassle over a three-dollar ticket.”
In the elevator, Joe Henderson asked, “So how’s Vernon doing over at the rehab? Justine said he had a seizure.”
“Yes, three nights ago. Took everyone by surprise. Dr. Dhawan thinks it was just a one-time thing, but he’s put Dad on some medication just to be safe. He’s still having a few speech problems and a little weakness on his left side, but they said another week there ought to iron out the wrinkles.”
The seizure had scared her half to death until the doctor assured her it was common after brain surgery. Even if he stopped improving now, his other problems were manageable.
She led the small group from the elevator to the private suite. It was hardly luxurious, but cushy armchairs arranged behind three tiers of counters gave everyone a splendid view. She’d arranged a spread of fajitas and spicy slaw from a local food truck, and stocked the mini-fridge with beer, soda, and bottled water.
Her plan, which she’d already played to perfection several times, was simple: Butter up potential advertisers with VIP treatment, promise them the moon, then hit them up to sign a multiyear contract. If the Longdogs kept playing like this, she’d hit her season target in only a matter of weeks.
Convinced years ago by Candice that she was no good at sales, she’d surprised even herself with her early success. The whole week had been a baptism of fire, much of it spent cajoling local businesses who felt Duffy’s mismanagement of the team had tarnished their brands. They were excited over her plans to attach their names to fun promotions and giveaways.
“Can I get drinks for anyone? Beer, Coke, water?”
Dr. Henderson answered first, ordering also for his wife. “Beer for me, Diet Coke for Margie.”
Britt almost felt guilty about taking advantage of Justine’s friendship, but Grace Hospital was the county’s largest private employer. If she played her cards right, they could be her biggest advertiser too. She owed it to Justine to go the extra mile and deliver big on her promises.
“I’ll have a Sun-Drop,” said Carly. As part of The Bean’s promotional deal, she’d agreed to sponsor a souvenir coffee mug giveaway at the ballpark. They’d also dreamed up a gimmick, whereby any Longdog struck by a pitch—called a bean ball—got a free coffee at The Bean, as did one lucky ticket holder. It wasn’t much in revenue, but it paired the Longdogs with one of the most popular shops in town.
“Something for you, Justine?”
“Bottled water if you have it. It’s nice watching from up here. I feel special. Isn’t this nice, Joe?”
“I could get used to it.”
“Hi, everybody.” Ninah waved from the doorway.
Britt completely forgot everyone’s drink order, so distracted was she by Ninah’s unexpected appearance in the suite. They’d spoken on the phone and traded dozens of texts, but Britt’s brutal work schedule made it nearly impossible to make social plans. She was looking forward to tomorrow when the Longdogs left town on an eight-game road trip. First up was a small dinner party at Carly and Justine’s.
Ninah politely greeted the Hendersons before addressing Justine. “I picked three gallons of strawberries this morning at Burgess Farm. Want me to bring dessert tomorrow night?”
“Yes!” Carly’s eyes went wide. “I love strawberry shortcake.”
“But don’t bring too much,” Justine said. “It’s just six of us. I decided to keep the party small so we could all talk and get to know each other.”
As Carly and Justine returned to their seats, Ninah took a tentative step toward the door and said to Britt, “Sorry, didn’t mean to butt in. I can see you’re busy. I just needed to ask about dessert.”
“I don’t mind at all. You can stay if you like. Carly said you gave your tickets away to one of her employees.”
“That’s right, Ike Martin and his brother Thaddeus. I thought I’d watch the game from the press box. Carly says you’re pitching a big idea to the hospital.”
“They don’t know it yet, but I’m going to sell them a gigantic, expensive digital display of the wait time at their ER, so big they’ll be able to see it from the shopping center across the street.”
“Break a leg—but not really. Broken legs can be hard to work around.” The last bit was accompanied by a subtle wink.
Britt stared after her as Ninah exited the suite and reappeared in the press box. More than once she’d caught herself daydreaming about what they might be doing had she not come down with a severe bout of conscience. She couldn’t lead Ninah on, and she’d never bought into the friends-with-benefits game. Sex was for special relationships, those with the potential to last.
“Look, it’s the Brownies. Aren’t they adorable!” Justine exclaimed.
With the crowd captivated by the endearing performance of the Brownie Scout troop singing the national anthem, Britt pushed thoughts of Ninah aside to focus on her sales pitch.
It proved far easier than expected, since Justine loved her idea and Dr. Henderson simply deferred to her judgment. A mere five minutes into the game, the Longdogs were thousands of dollars richer.
Carly patted the chair at the end. “What’s up with you and Ninah? Did I see a little…” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“You might have. So what’s her story? How come a woman like that is single?”
“How come you are?” Carly mocked her with a smirk.
“Touché. I’m single because my ex is a pernicious, self-absorbed opportunist and I’m apparently a doormat wearing blinders. By the way, don’t ever let Justine come to work with you at The Bean. You can be lovers or business partners, but not both.”
“Too late for that. We’re already partners in everything.” Carly’s contented gaze drifted to her wife. “Having said that, she’s pitched in a few times at the shop when we were short on help. Let’s just say I’m glad it doesn’t happen a lot. But I love her to pieces.”
“You guys are cute together. Gives me hope.” She would have loved a role model couple like Carly and Justine in her life, women who so obviously cherished one another. In her circle of friends in San Diego, couples were always breaking up, switching partners. “Candice and I probably would have split up four or five years ago if we hadn’t been in business together. Our relationship really suffered for it, and so did our business. I made too many decisions based on what kind of projects she wanted to work on, not what was good for the company. Now it’s all in the toilet.”
“And lucky you—the Longdogs dropped right in your lap. Now all you need is to round it out with…Ninah?”
Feeling suddenly uneasy, Britt pretended to watch the game. “I wouldn’t go that far. We’ve only known each other, what? Two weeks?”
“Two weeks, two years. It doesn’t matter with Ninah. What you see is what you get.” She paused to watch the Longdogs turn a double play for the first two outs. “Ninah Faust is a prize. I’m not kidding. She’s one of the nicest people I know. Smart, interesting, sweet. If I were single and twenty years younger…”
“Which begs the question… Come on, she can’t be perfect.”
“If there’s a knock on her, it’s that she can sometimes be…let’s call it inflexible. She has her opinions, and there’s not much gray area.”
“You’re saying she’s hardheaded.”
“Or she’s principled. You have to respect somebody who sticks to their guns when it’s not the easiest choice.” Carly leaned forward to scan the crowd, counting in the air with her finger. “See that aisle where the peanut guy is right now? Count up eight rows from the bottom, that woman in the blue T-shirt at the end.”
Britt followed her eye and counted. “In the red cap?”
“Yeah, that’s Teri Kaufman, Ninah’s ex. She’s an imaging technician at the hospital. Probably did your dad’s CAT scan. Justine runs into her all the time.”
The crowd gasped as the batter slapped a line drive down the first base line. Scotty McCall lunged and snatched it out of midair for the final out.
“Teri’s one of those life-of-the-party types, always clowning around. Lots of laughs. She comes on a little strong for some people’s tastes, but she’s not hard to get along with. At least she wasn’t.”
Britt got a better look when everyone stood and cheered the Longdogs as they ran into the dugout. Teri had a prominent nose with rosy, cherubic cheeks, and a long dark ponytail that looped through the back of her cap. Not as pretty as Ninah, but reasonably attractive. “How long were they together?”
“Six or seven years, I think. Not married though.”
“What happened?”
“Look at her again. Notice anything special about that cap?”
Britt strained to bring it into focus. Lots of people were wearing Longdogs caps. Those were dark red with a black dachshund logo and the Longdogs name in black lettering. Teri Kaufman’s hat was bright red with white lettering that said… “You can’t be serious. She’s a—”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is Deplorable.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ninah lit the last of the citronella candles on Justine and Carly’s deck where a round table had been set for six. Justine, a venerable entertainer, was inside tending to a stuffed pork roast and vegetable soufflé. Tonight’s dinner party was a notch above the casual cookout they’d enjoyed last week, with white linens and china.
The creases in Britt’s pink shirt suggested it was new, something to tide her over until the weekend, her planned return to San Diego to collect her belongings. Ninah couldn’t resist fixing a wrinkle in the collar, though she’d vowed not to flirt tonight, no matter how much she wanted to. “How does it feel to have a night off?”
“I’m not sure if I’ll get a real night off all summer. Even when I try to relax, my brain won’t stop. You wouldn’t believe how much there is to do.”
“At least it’s paying off already. The crowd’s gotten bigger since opening night, fans are getting involved. Oh, and that beauty contest was hilarious. How did you convince those guys to walk out there in bikinis and high heels?” Before Britt could answer, Ninah interrupted. “Listen to me…I just congratulated you on getting a night off and immediately asked you about work. Forget I said anything.”
Britt examined an unopened bottle of chardonnay resting in an ice chest. “La Crema…this is good stuff. Would you like some?”
“Sure. Carly said she was serving California wines in honor of her guests.”
“This Dorie and Margot, are they friends of yours?”
Ninah accepted a glass and settled onto half of Carly’s cushioned porch swing, an open invitation for Britt to join her. “They come to all the holiday parties, but I’m trying to think if I’ve seen them since Christmas. Dorie’s interesting. She edits for popular science magazines, like National Geographic and Scientific American. I guarantee you’ll like her. You’ll like them both.”
She hoped her slight of Margot hadn’t left the wrong impression. Margot was nice as well, but passionate about horses to the exclusion of almost everything else. At a typical party, the horse fanatics tended to cluster together in what the others jokingly called “the paddock.”
Carly came out carrying a relish tray, followed by Justine with a cheese board.
“I texted Margot and told them to pull all the way around to the back, that we’d be out here on the deck,” Justine said. She relaxed in a chaise lounge, leaving room for Carly to sit at her feet.
“Think the Longdogs will keep the streak going tonight against the Oil Cans?” Carly asked.
“We’re driving over to Ashland for the game tomorrow night,” Ninah said. “But I just promised Britt we wouldn’t talk baseball tonight. She hasn’t had a moment away from it since the season started.”
“Great idea.” Justine likely felt the same way about baseball that Ninah did about horses.
Britt’s invitation to the road game had come as a pleasant surprise. A two-hour drive each way, plus three hours for the game. It was a real chance to deepen their friendship.
“But I can still follow the game online, right?” Carly held up her phone and looked sheepishly at her wife. “Ninah showed me where the scorekeeper site was. I just wanna see if Oscar can hit like that in somebody else’s park.”
“I defer to Britt. She’s our guest.”
“Fine by me. Let me know if he jacks one out.”
The sound of crunching gravel signaled the arrival of Margot’s pickup, a dual-wheeled monster she used for towing a horse trailer. From the looks of it, Dorie wasn’t with her.
“Hey, everybody!” Margot yelled as she started across the lawn. Her face was tan against a buttoned-down white shirt, and her curly dark hair still dripped from her shower. In her hand was a colorful bunch of wildflowers that looked suspiciously like the ones growing along Pinckard Road.
Justine and Carly rose to meet her on the top step. “Where’s Dorie?”
“Dorie is…how did she put it? Pursuing other priorities, I believe she said. She left about five weeks ago, went back to Long Beach. I started to tell you on the phone the other night, but I thought what if they don’t want me by myself? I didn’t want to find out so here I am.” Margot held her arms wide as if ready to take a bow.
“Oh, my goodness.” Justine stomped down the stairs and pulled her into a hug. “You poor thing. You should have told us. All this time you were sitting out there in that house all by yourself. We’d never have let you do that.”
“I know. I just needed a while to get my head together.” Margot turned toward the swing. “Hey, Ninah. Good to see you. And you must be Britt Iverson, all the way from San Diego. Welcome to horse country.”
Britt met her with a hand extended. “California’s no stranger to horses, but I suppose you know that.”
They bonded quickly over a shared familiarity with thoroughbred farms on the West Coast, none of which Ninah had heard of before. Temecula, Hemet, Aguanda.
Then as usual, Margot was “off to the races” with endless talk of her work as barn manager at Hickson Farm. Thankfully, she waited until the end of dinner to detail her feed schedule, how she rotated horses in and out of certain pastures because the grasses had a natural laxative effect.
Britt asked, “Did you know that pasture along Pinckard Road belonged to my father till a few months ago?”
“Get out! So that’s what Clyde meant when he told Jamie to get it done, whatever it took. Small world, isn’t it?”
Too small, Ninah thought miserably. She was trapped in the paddock during old home week.
“Speaking of your dad, how is he? Justine said he had some kind of surgery.”
Britt briefly described her father’s health scare.
“God, you mus
t have been worried sick. And coming home to find out you own a baseball team. And I thought my world had been turned upside down.” Margot barely drew a breath, changing the subject before anyone else could jump into the conversation. “Hey, the Longdogs are on a road trip all week, right? Why don’t you come out to the farm? I’ll give you a tour. Hell, I’ll even saddle you up a mount. You ride, don’t you?”
Britt laughed and held up her hands. “No thanks. I’ve ridden a few times but I don’t think I could handle something that fancy.”
“I can talk you through it. Come on, how many people get to sit astride a thoroughbred racehorse? What are you doing Saturday?”
A mysterious grating sound grew louder before Ninah realized she was grinding her teeth. She darted a glance toward Carly and plucked a leftover strawberry from the bowl. What she really needed was another glass of wine. Or three.
“I can’t,” Britt replied. “I’ve got a sales meeting on Saturday morning. Then I’m off to San Diego for a few days.”
“When you get back then. Just let me know.”
Justine stood to clear the dishes. “Would anyone like coffee, or more wine? I can open another bottle.”
“Sit down, honey. I’ll clean up. Ninah won’t mind giving me a hand.” Carly tipped her head toward the kitchen. “Right?”
“Of course.” She jumped at the chance to escape Margot’s endless equine endeavors but felt guilty for leaving Britt to endure them.
In the kitchen, Carly quickly said, “Just so you know, I had no idea about Dorie.”
“Did you see Margot’s face light up when she saw Britt? I’m surprised she didn’t go back to the truck for her lasso.” Confident, smooth-talking, endless-talking Margot. “Margot’s practically throwing herself at her. Mark my word, before this night’s over she’ll—”
“Forget it. Britt gave me the third degree about you last night. She can’t imagine why you’re single.”
“Oh?”
