by KG MacGregor
“Go. We can finish this tomorrow.” Except she probably wouldn’t sleep all night unless she put it out there. “Wait a second. What it means is, where a person lives might not matter as much as who they live with.”
“Hmm…that would make a nice tattoo.”
Ninah swore she could hear Britt smiling.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Despite having more official duties than her father, Britt had saved him the largest of the executive offices. He too had a grand view of the field, where Pervis was busy mowing his checkerboard outfield.
The doctor had okayed his coming to the ballpark starting at two hours a day, increasing a half hour each day as his energy allowed. He had to save some for physical therapy.
“You doing okay over there?” she asked, looking up from the ad galleys. She’d sold four more pages for the next home game program.
“I’m fine.” He nodded out toward left field. “And if I’m not, you can run me over to the ER, where the wait time is less than three minutes. I can’t get over you squeezing that much money out of Joe Henderson. That man’s so tightfisted, he sneaks his own popcorn into the ballpark.”
Britt was glad she hadn’t known that ahead of her sales pitch. It would have made her anxious. “I think my success there had more to do with Justine Hall. She was the first person I talked to when I got to Leland, and she bent over backward trying to make me feel welcome.”
“That Justine’s always been a sweetheart. Carly too. I had a feeling you’d like them.”
“They hardly gave me a choice. Had me over for dinner twice, introduced me to their friends, including Ninah Faust. Oh, and somebody named Margot who manages the barn at Hickson Farm. Margot called this morning, by the way. Apparently Clyde and the boys are off to an auction tomorrow in Saratoga Springs. She’s invited me out to the farm to ride. It’s just for a couple of hours.”
“Don’t go getting yourself hooked on thoroughbreds. That’s one hobby that costs more than a baseball team.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She caught him up on her progress with ad sales, including Carly’s travel mug giveaway. “Then she hooked me up with all the other downtown merchants. I expect to sell out that second row of billboards by the Fourth of July.”
“You’re not gonna leave me anything to do, Britt. I might as well retire, read a book.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve saved you plenty. For starters, one of us needs to set up an interview with Wesley Hodges. I’ve put him off a couple of times already. I thought it was best to have you do it in case he starts asking about bloopers and dingers and frozen ropes. He actually used all of those in one story. I had to get Ninah to translate.”
She’d mentioned Ninah several times since coming back from California, drawing no reaction at all. Given his friendship with her, she’d have thought he’d be pleased they were friends too.
“So Dad, I was wondering what you thought about—”
“Did you see that story this morning on Boomer McBride? I can’t imagine the brass in Pittsburgh is happy about that.”
She kept up with baseball news on ESPN’s Sports Center, which had become part of her morning routine. “I hate to laugh at something so crude, but that video was hilarious.”
An All-Star slugger for the Pirates, McBride had a “bad boy” reputation that included drinking, brawling and now, disorderly conduct. He’d managed all three last night in Miami. Ejected from the Marlins game in the first inning for cleating the second baseman on a high slide, he’d watched the rest from a bar on South Beach. His third act—urinating off his hotel balcony while singing “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head”—had been captured on a video that went viral overnight.
“Surely he’ll get suspended a few games,” she said. “The Pirates can’t let him get away with that. Can you believe he’s making twenty-one million?”
“He didn’t actually rain on anyone’s head, so that’s in his favor. But he’s already been suspended twice this year, so they’ll have to put some real teeth in this one. I ’spect they’ll hit him extra hard in the pocketbook.”
“What he needs is a good spanking.”
Her dad began laughing to himself. “Archie came by the hospital that first week, said you showed the boys a little tough love in the locker room.”
She’d almost forgotten that incident. After Hank’s swear-a-thon over the players not minding their dirt, she’d gone back to her office fuming that she hadn’t stood up for herself. As the executive in charge, she couldn’t allow sexual harassment in the workplace to go unpunished. With a call to Pervis, she’d cut the hot water to the locker room, resulting in cold showers after that night’s game. “Hey, tough love works. Hanover and Cline came into my office the next day and apologized.”
Her father’s face was frozen in a broad grin. “I’m so doggone proud of you, honey. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t jumped in and taken over. You saw what a mess this was. How you got it going so quick, I can’t even begin to imagine.”
Despite what she’d said to Ninah about needing to prove herself in San Diego, not Leland, her father’s praise filled her with pride. “It’s what I do, Dad. I’m glad for the chance to show you. In fact, I want to go over a few ideas to see what you think.”
Group ticket sales would flourish on her dad’s longstanding relationships, she explained. A Rotary member himself, he’d be a welcome guest at civic clubs where he could market the team as a community asset.
“What about church groups?” he asked. “I bet that’s the biggest untapped market in town. We could host a different congregation every night, put them in the right field bleachers. They’ll eat a barrel of hot dogs and popcorn.”
She’d already been invited to speak at the monthly Faith Luncheon, a gathering of Leland’s spiritual leaders, but the idea of going before a group of church elders to pitch them on a ticket package set her teeth on edge. Even if she got her father to do it, she didn’t like the idea of being ingratiated to a bunch of holy rollers. “Let me think on that one, Dad.”
“I’ll handle it if you like.”
“We have to consider the potential for conflict. I know churches are popular around here, but not everyone’s on board. What if they complain about beer sales? Or Pride Night for the LGBT community? What if they want to have a prayer beforehand and some fans are disrespectful? We need to be careful about putting ourselves in the middle of that.”
He nodded along, though he obviously was not convinced. Nor was she, to be honest, since churches were probably good for a hundred tickets per night under the right circumstances. Over the course of a season, that was a hefty chunk of change.
“What else do you want to tackle, Dad? Systems and accounts? Capital improvements?”
“Both of those. And I suppose since I wrote an actual book on how to be a food entrepreneur, I should take on concessions. Lord knows that could use an overhaul.”
“You can say that again. Archie can help you with the vendors, but you ought to see if you can get some of the food trucks to bring their kitchen inside. Especially the fajitas.” She checked the doorway to make sure their GM wasn’t lurking. “Archie’s good with the travel logistics, but that’s not a full-time job. We might need to have an uncomfortable talk with him about his future. Could be he’s ready to cut back anyway.”
“Best we see how the summer goes. I don’t want to get caught shorthanded if you decide to go back…”
“You won’t get caught shorthanded, Dad. I gave you my word I’d see this through, as long as we’re still on the same page.” She was a little concerned his emotions would get the better of him in the wake of success on the field, that he’d want to keep the team instead of selling it. “Our goal here is still to build the team up and make it attractive to a buyer who will keep it in Leland, right?”
“And get the Pirates extension,” he added. “We sure picked a good year to buy. It’s been fifteen years since the Dogs were in first place. I can’t wait to
see this Oscar Lopez. JT says he can hit the ball a country mile.”
“And then some. Fans like the Hanover kid too. You’ll see him Friday night. He’s pitching the opener against Spring Hill, but you have to rest up if you want to come out for that one.”
“I’ll be here. You bet on it.” His excitement was palpable. “I guess before long you’ll be wanting to get paid.”
“It crossed my mind. This jet-setting Leland lifestyle comes with a price tag, as you well know. How do you feel about me taking over your basement? I can get my own apartment if you want. I don’t want to cramp your style.”
“Well, well. And here I thought I was cramping yours. I heard you might have a girlfriend.”
She felt herself blush at his playful query. “I might be dating someone but I wouldn’t go so far as to call her my girlfriend.” She’d definitely need her own apartment if she wanted to have secrets.
Archie appeared in the doorway, red-faced and out of breath. “Bad news…Boomer McBride…twenty game suspension. They’re calling up Oscar…sending a plane for him right now…he’s going straight to Miami.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
By the time Ninah crossed the Sherman Minton Bridge into Kentucky, she was as good as home. Hugging the Ohio River along Interstate 64, she skirted Louisville and calculated a six o’clock arrival in Leland. Twenty-one hundred lonely miles in three days and five hours. It was worth every mile to help Britt feel anchored in Kentucky instead of California.
She closed her navigation app as a call beeped in from Carly, who’d texted earlier to commiserate about Oscar Lopez. “Hey, Bean Lady. Tough day for the Longdogs, huh?”
“I’ll say. I’m sad to see him go but proud of him too. Did you hear what he did last night?”
“Britt said they pinch hit him and he homered in his first major league at bat. We knew it on day one, didn’t we? She’s really bummed her dad won’t get to see him in a Longdogs uniform.”
“Yeah, Justine told me Vernon got home from rehab the other day. How’s Britt doing? I haven’t talked to her since she got back. Everything go okay out there?”
Ninah didn’t feel it was her place to share how Candice’s unexpected return had soured their weekend. “It’s gorgeous, Carly. The water, the sailboats, the weather. Everything looks so crisp, like God just took the cellophane off. I even told her I might be willing to move.”
“Seriously? Did something happen out there? You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone but Justine.”
“And she’ll tell JT, who’ll tell everybody.” She didn’t actually care who knew they were dating. Assuming they were. “But to answer your question, no. Nothing happened. But it might.”
“Margot’s gonna be so disappointed.”
“Speak of the devil, Britt was taking off a couple of hours this afternoon to go riding at Hickson Farm. Can’t wait to hear how that went.”
“I bet Margot’s taking her through the sperm collection process right now, and she’s got Britt holding the collection bottle.”
“I’m telling her you said that.”
“Ask her if they watched mare porn first to get him excited.”
“I worry about you, Carly. Does your wife have any idea how deviant you are?”
“You know, that’s what I love about Justine. Everybody thinks she’s so innocent. That woman has more kinks than a water hose.”
Ninah was laughing so hard, she could hardly catch her breath. “You must be home alone, because if Justine were there, she’d box your ears.”
“Nah, she’s having supper with JT so they can talk about Emmy. It’s pretty obvious she’s got a new boyfriend but she isn’t telling anyone who it is. Justine’s freaking out thinking it might be a married man.”
“That’s ridiculous. Emmy would never do such a thing.” Though admittedly Ninah had wondered the same thing before she found out it was Ike. She grinned at the sight of the Leland exit. “I’m on the last fifteen minutes of a thirty-two-hour drive.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know who Emmy’s seeing?”
“Don’t drag me into this. You think I’d squeal on somebody who could make my life a living hell with a pair of tap shoes?”
“God, Justine’s gonna be so relieved. Because you obviously know who it is, and you explicitly said Emmy wouldn’t date a married man. So I can tell Justine that much and she’ll be able to sleep again.”
“I can’t help what you inferred, but I want the record to show that I did not reveal anything.”
“On that note, I’m hanging up so I can text her with the good news.”
It was all Ninah could do to hold her speed down as she neared the turnoff for Sandstone Drive. At the end of the street, the garage door stood open with Vernon’s truck inside. Her Subaru was parked right where she’d left it, now sitting alongside…Margot’s truck.
“Are you kidding me?” She’d told Britt she’d arrive around six. Why on earth would she invite Margot to be here?
The front door opened to a blur, Britt leaping from the porch to meet her as she wearily pulled herself from the car. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Me too.” Ninah whimpered with pleasure as Britt hugged her and rubbed her tired, stiff back. “The closer I got, the faster I drove. I’m lucky I didn’t get a ticket.”
“I’d have paid it. Are you hungry?”
She stepped back to appreciate Britt in her denim shorts and tank top. Her hair hung like silk around her bare shoulders. “I could eat…but it appears you have company.”
“We have pizza.” The house smelled of garlic and herbs, thanks no doubt to the large pizza box on the dining table. “This is so weird,” Britt said, keeping her voice low and her eyes affixed to the back door. “I went riding today—it was fun, I’ll tell you about it later—and I told Margot about Dad doing physical therapy to improve his balance. Next thing I know, she’s standing at the front door with a pair of magnetic horse boots that he’s supposed to wrap around his ankles to improve circulation. She spent forty-five minutes telling him how they supposedly work, which—I looked it up while she was talking—is basically junk science. He finally ducked out to use the bathroom and didn’t come back.”
That sounded just like Margot, fascinated by the sound of her own voice. “How long do you think she’s gonna be here?”
“Who the hell knows? I thought she’d leave when he did. I took his pizza upstairs and when I got back she’d wandered out to the gazebo. That’s when I heard you pull up.”
“You want me to start a brush fire by her truck? That’ll get her out of here.”
“What I want is this.” Britt lifted Ninah’s chin and planted a light kiss on her lips. “Can you tell I’ve been thinking about you?”
“That makes two of us. Wait, that didn’t sound right. I was thinking about you.” She could hardly think straight. It would serve Margot right for them to head down to the basement and lock the door.
The object of her scorn walked in from the back deck and placed an empty beer bottle and plate on the counter. “Hey, look who finally got here. The road warrior.”
“That’s me, fresh from a four-day battle with five thousand trucks. I bet it takes the next three days for me to stop hunching forward and clenching my teeth.”
“Sounds just like riding a horse. Once your butt gets attuned to being in the saddle, nothing else feels quite right.”
Britt shot Ninah a wink as she went to work straightening the kitchen. “You want a slice of this before I put it away?”
“No thanks. I ate half a pound of M&Ms in the car. So tell me about your ride today. What was it like?”
“I’ll let Margot tell you. I need to go up and get Dad’s plate.”
Ninah could have kicked herself. She’d stupidly opened the door for Margot to talk about horses.
“For a beginner, she’s got a pretty good seat,” Margot said. “A little intimidated, but who wouldn’t be riding such a magnificent beast? I’ve been riding almost forty years and I�
��m still in awe of them. You need to respect an animal like that.”
Why hadn’t she asked about Vernon or the Longdogs or the fish in the lake or the guy who delivered the pizza? “I can’t imagine Britt was intimidated for long. From what I’ve seen, she takes command of whatever she gets her hands on.”
Margot cocked her head and grinned. “Can’t argue with you there. Anybody who kisses like that knows all about being in charge.”
Ninah’s chest filled with a volcanic rage as Margot nonchalantly helped herself to another beer. The very idea that Britt would kiss her was more than she could stomach. Apparently going for a ride meant something different in the Golden State.
Chapter Thirty
Britt turned off Main Street onto Monroe, mildly steamed that Ninah had left so abruptly. She was exhausted, of course. Who wouldn’t be after such a grueling trip? And no doubt annoyed that Margot was there. But to leave without even saying goodbye? And then not to answer her phone.
She recalled the day Ninah had marched off from the gazebo, when she’d gone to her house to apologize. No question that one had been her fault, but not this time. Margot had complicated matters by downing her second beer and then insisting she couldn’t drive home for a couple of hours. Britt waited helplessly, enduring a mind-numbing ramble on how to tell whether a horse had colic or gastric ulcers.
Ninah’s car was in the driveway and the lights were on in her apartment. That didn’t mean she was in the mood for visitors. If she wasn’t answering her phone, she might not answer her door either.
When she reached the porch, a man’s irate voice caused her to freeze. “We can’t keep doing this, Emmy. Either you tell them tomorrow like you promised or we might as well forget it.”
“Ike, wait.”
He stepped outside—the barista from The Bean—and his eyes went wide with surprise. “Hello.”
A young woman appeared at his side, obviously Justine’s daughter. Same good looks, for sure, and sporting a look of pure panic. “Hi, you must be Britt Iverson. I’m Emmy Sharpe. I think you know my mom, Justine. Right?”
