Josh Arrevalos stood in front of her desk, towering over her. His brown eyes twinkled, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Muscled arms were folded against a broad chest and one hand clutched a bright red purse. Her purse.
“Uh, thank you. Hi! Uh … ” The words stuttered out, and Mandy stopped, embarrassed.
Josh Arrevalos held out the purse and laughed.
The laugh grated on her nerves, and her annoyance overrode her anxiousness.
“Thank you, Mr. Arrevalos. You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. I’m sure someone from the office would have called me.”
He dropped the bag on the corner of the desk, no longer laughing out loud, but amusement sparkled in his eyes and cut deep dimples in his sun-bronzed cheeks. “My pleasure, Ms. Warner. Especially … ” his eyes dipped down to her chest, “well, all of it.”
Her lips thinned, and she colored slightly. “That was not intentional. And if you’re finished — ”
He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “You said you wanted to see me,” he reminded her.
Oh. Right. In her annoyance and embarrassment, Mandy had forgotten the point of this whole encounter. She opened her mouth, but the door burst open, as it often did when she wanted peace and quiet.
Two of the lumber department cashiers came in, the necklines of their baseball shirts riding a little lower than usual, their lips overly bright with red lipstick, and their eyes gleaming. “Mandy,” the younger, Gayle, said, then stopped. “Oh, we’re so sorry. We didn’t know you had a visitor.”
“Are you really Hotstuff?” Ann squeaked, and Mandy’s glower didn’t faze either of them.
“Actually, my name is Josh.” He held out a hand dutifully to each of the young women. Mandy waited for them to kiss it as if he were a high religious leader, but they just shook hands for an agonizingly long time.
“Can we get your picture?” Gayle asked, and Ann whipped out a cell phone.
“Who’s covering your shifts?” Mandy demanded, concerned.
“Jesús from plumbing,” they chimed in together, while still pretty much ignoring her. Ann handed her cell phone to Gayle and stood beside Josh, maneuvering until his arm was wrapped around her shoulders. Gayle took the picture, then went and returned the camera, practically shoving Ann out of the way.
Mandy frowned. Had they no class? Sure, the man looked liked a little piece of hunk heaven, but — . Then again, she reminded herself, these girls were demonstrating exactly why she needed Josh Arrevalos. In a strictly business, no-touching kind of way.
He smiled just then, and for a moment, she’d swear her heart stopped. Then Mandy remembered he was smiling for Ann, not her, and she could breathe again. But this was a good reminder of just why she held the large majority of pro ballplayers in contempt: because of scenes like this with Ann and Gayle and that blonde and her friend outside the stadium.
Gayle and Ann hustled off with giggles and pictures, and she opened her mouth to invite Josh to sit when Jesús from lighting burst through the door, ever-present clipboard under his arm. Great. Who was next? Jesús from flooring?
“Jefa,” he said, with a total lack of employee-to-boss deference. “Mr. Arrevalos! I can’t believe you came in to Dad Warner’s today! So you guys are going to make the playoffs, right? Not bad for a two-year-old team! Could I have your autograph?”
Jesús turned the clipboard to hand it to the center fielder, and Mandy saw he’d found a Scorpions’ program somewhere.
“Rachel wanted one, too,” their electrical wizard explained, “so if you’d sign the top one “to Rachel with love,” and everyone calls me — ”
Josh glanced at his badge and cut him off. “Chuy, right?”
“Yes, how did you know — oh! Forgot you spoke Spanish,” Jesús babbled, flushing slightly and shifting from one foot to the other while he watched the signing. “Pretty much have to anywhere in the Southwest, you know, but you never do on TV and — oh, thanks! So, ¿van a ganar, verdad? I mean, you’ll win? Right?”
Mandy stood up and picked up the receiver, calling the receptionist down between the front desks. “Rachel, is my mom back?”
“On her way. Is he still there, Mandy?” Rachel’s voice, always so professional and calm, sounded a little squeaky.
“Who, Hotstuff?” Josh and Jesús turned startled glances her way. Why didn’t the floor just open up and swallow her? First the breast situation, now this. She’d meant to be sarcastic, but she didn’t think the name had slipped out dripping with irony. More likely, she sounded like some addlepated fan lusting after the man’s body.
She hadn’t been interested in a man’s body for the longest time — pretty much since her family had fallen apart with the revelation of her father’s affairs. That family-shattering discovery left her mother broken for years and sent her sister running off. It had turned her world upside down and torn apart her own plans to study veterinarian medicine. Even the availability of online studies only contributed to her misery, because the dream of saving animal lives had become mired in the necessity of business classes. Practicality and responsibility. Couldn’t she have been born without them?
Sure, Josh had a pretty noteworthy body. But a baseball player? No. She had one at home, and he’d destroyed all that she’d hoped for, all that she’d dreamed of. No one would play her ever again.
“Let’s get out of here,” she ordered. “We’ll never get a chance to — ”
She was interrupted by her floor supervisor ducking through the door. At almost seven feet tall, the man had to bend to fit through.
“We’re leaving,” Mandy snapped. Without giving anyone time to argue, Mandy caught Josh’s arm and urged him past the disappointed supervisor and into the hall.
“We’ll take the elevator.”
Once inside the small elevator, Mandy practically tossed his arm aside and slumped against the wall.
“Sorry. But no one here understands I’m really the boss. Well, sort of.” She looked up at Josh, whose grin and dimples made his amusement perfectly clear. He wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, damn it! Not in her own elevator! “I thought I could buy you a burger or something,” she offered nonchalantly, as the cage rocked a little and the door opened.
“But — ”
“We’ll go through flooring. No one’s ever there. Hurry!”
As they left the building in a mad rush, a family loading their purchases into a truck recognized Josh and began waving frantically. He paused to wave back, and Mandy reached back and yanked him along, determined to get them out of there.
She finally stopped by a Dad Warner’s pickup truck, out of breath and flushed, the baseball shirt clinging a little to her curvy torso. She felt damp from the scorching heat and humidity, and their mad dash hadn’t helped.
A couple of slots away, someone yelled, “Hey! Josh! Josh Arrevalos!” and a cell phone came out.
“Where do you want to go?” Mandy hissed, urgently.
“Burgers are out. I prefer expensive stuff.”
Mandy swallowed, trying to keep her face expressionless. The man could probably buy the store and everything in it, and he wanted her to take him somewhere expensive?
“Just kidding,” he added, and relief washed through her. Momentarily.
“Look, we can’t get away from anyone at a public place. Let’s go to my place.”
Her mouth opened but no sound came out. His place? That wasn’t smart. Not businesslike at all. And even an expensive joint would provide safety. How would she feel in a room alone with Josh?
Another car pulled in beside the other, and the man who’d shouted at Josh pointed excitedly at them. A group started heading their way, cell phones already out.
“Get in and tell me where to go!” Mandy ran around to the driver’s side, turning on the truck and buckling her belt.
When she heard the passenger door slam, she kicked the truck into gear and wheeled out, tires squealing.
“This day’s one for the record books,” Josh drawled, turning to look across at Mandy. “A walk-off home run, a lot of bared boobs, a daring rescue — ”
“My dress caught on the rail, buster. I was not trying — Wait, where am I going?”
Josh gave her his address and resettled himself in the seat. Mandy couldn’t help wishing he’d quit staring at her. Made it too hard not to look back, and traffic was heavy. Besides, this whole disastrous affair was business, nothing more.
Yeah, right, her brain sneered. The man taking up way too much of the cab had a body to die for and eyes that could stop traffic. Or hearts.
Too quickly, though, he turned away and waved a hand at a gate. “Turn in here.” A woman in a security guard uniform was squinting toward the car. “Roll your window down, and I’ll get us in.”
She braked, and he leaned across, not quite touching her, but her skin burned anyway.
“Hey, Edna. Let us in?”
The woman peered closely at Mandy, then shot a huge smile at Josh and batted her eyelashes. “Congrats on the game today, honey. Where’s your pretty car?”
“Broke down at Dad Warner’s Building Supply,” Josh lied easily. “I’ll send for it.”
“Well, that’s a shame, a brand new thing like that. Y’all have fun now,” the guard purred, stepping back and waving a hand.
Josh directed her to a corner lot with palm trees and perfect landscaping and hopped out as soon as she killed the engine. He came around the hood and opened the front door with a flourish.
“Thanks,” Mandy muttered primly, “but save the effort, Josh. This is not a date.”
He didn’t say anything, just ushered her into the stone two-story home with a cheery smile, almost tripping over her when she stopped to gape a little. She didn’t watch a lot of TV, so she hadn’t seen any reality programs featuring dazzling homes like this. And though she worked in her parents’ building supply store, it was a job of convenience, not love, and she didn’t pay much attention to the design plans that passed through the various departments.
This place, with its honey-colored walls, huge fireplace and hot tub clearly visible on the deck outside a set of sliding glass doors was beyond anything she’d ever seen. The cluster of sofas and armchairs could have comfortably seated an army — or a baseball team. Starters and bench players. How much room did one single centerfielder need, anyway?
“Don’t let all the junk overwhelm you,” Josh offered good-naturedly. “All overkill, but most of it was here when I bought it. Except the Jacuzzi, and that’s a medical necessity.” He winked. “Ask any ballplayer.”
Ballplayer. Right. He didn’t know it, but he’d just killed the mood. Reminded her of why she was here — and why she needed to be gone as soon as possible. Ballplayers screwed around, cheated on families, and ruined lives. All she wanted was a small favor, and she was only asking because she had to.
“Sit down, Mandy. Can I get you anything?”
“No.” She chose the smallest chair she could find and sat down, immediately sinking into its plush depths and feeling completely out of hers.
Josh sat down in the corner of the sofa nearest her, pulling a pillow up and stuffing it behind his neck, then reaching for the remote on a gleaming coffee table and flipping the TV on. “We missed the early news, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to catch the sports. Which probably makes me an egotist, but I could pretend to be interested in preseason football … ”
Mandy grinned. Baseball player or not, the man had charm. “Go ahead,” she encouraged. “I love football.”
He laughed but turned to watch the television as the sports anchor launched into a glowing report of how the Scorpions had demolished the visiting team, led by none other than Hotstuff Josh Arrevalos.
“But that walk-off homer was nothing compared to the after-game fireworks, apparently,” the anchor continued. And Mandy gaped at the pictures of two women exposing their boobs to the world, one brazenly and the other showing a lot less, but still —
“Damn cell phones, huh?” Josh asked, his voice full of laughter.
“Later, our own lucky star was seen leaving local building center Dad Warner’s in a company truck driven at breakneck speed by an unidentified woman. Bystanders captured the daring escape, and a customer who wanted to remain anonymous insisted the driver was the store owner’s daughter, Amanda Warner, daughter of legendary catcher Ed ‘Dad’ Warner.
“So the question is,” the anchor continued, leering a little at his co-anchor, “is Hotstuff in loooove again, and did Josh Arrevalos score more than that homerun this afternoon?”
“You’re so bad,” the weather anchor jeered, reaching across to slap his arm in a corny gesture of disapproval.
“Oh, my God!” Mandy covered her face with her hands, shaking. What would she hear at home? And at work, for that matter?
She peeked at Josh, whose laughter had faded. “Creeps,” he snarled. “No one had any reason for that last little bit.” He thrust himself up, full of nervous energy. “Now I’ll be fighting off the damn gossipmongers, and they threw you right in the middle of everything.”
His anger at the newscast made her feel marginally better.
“It isn’t your fault,” she pointed out, standing, too. She seldom sat at the store when she wasn’t working on reports, and she’d been up until early morning working on an assignment for her accounting class. She didn’t want to fall asleep in Josh Arrevalos’ chair. Sudden curiosity about his bedroom pricked her, but she ignored it.
“Are you hungry? I could order or forage through the kitchen and see what’s there. And I have wine, water, beer — ”
She started to refuse, but then realized he probably hadn’t eaten since breakfast — and he was carless now. “Don’t go to any trouble, but if you’re having something, sure,” she murmured. She’d totally ruined his Sunday. While she mulled that over, Josh left, and soon she heard him whistling in the kitchen.
Home Sundays had been like this when her dad had played, a lifetime ago. He could have gone out to eat and sometimes did take them, but he usually insisted he wanted a break from public food in public places. Even at the end of his career, he had loyal fans who would interrupt him in restaurants, anywhere they ran into him, even if he was accompanied by his wife and daughters. The memories made her eyes burn. How quickly that joy and those good times had disappeared.
Agitated, she walked over to the sliding glass doors, opened them, and walked out into the little Eden shielding the hot tub. Potted plants, baskets spewing flowered vines, and palms huddled together on three sides of the tub, providing serenity and privacy. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, wishing she could have a little spot like this to escape to.
“Like it?” Josh asked, right behind her. “You’re welcome to try it out if you’d like to.”
She started and spun around. “No. I’m not here for … that. I just … well, it is beautifully done.”
“I found some stuff we can eat. Come on in and see if you like anything.” He smiled. “You can tell me about your business.”
For a bachelor called on to provide food without notice, he’d done pretty well. Sliced cold cuts and cheese, a bowl of fruit and another of rolls. He’d set mayonnaise and mustard out in their jars, along with a handful of plastic utensils. “Still wasn’t sure on drinks,” he reminded, and she shrugged.
“Anything cold and alcohol-free. I have to drive home.”
“Such a responsible girl,” he murmured, and though she could tell he was teasing, the description needled. Because it had been true since that awful day when her father’s lies came home to roost, Shelley left home, and she and her mother virtually quit living. But he didn’t need to know that. And if she wanted
to change her mind, follow him into the kitchen and ask for wine — or something stronger — well, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
While he was gone, Mandy served herself. After everything that had gone wrong so far, it was safer not to risk spilling food on his beautiful furniture. Or in his lap. He came out a minute later carrying glasses of tea and set them down, then sank down on the couch with a sigh.
“Hadn’t realized I was hungry.” He piled food on his plate, stuffed a roll full of meat, and slathered it with mayonnaise and mustard.
“Did I ruin any after-game plans?”
“Nah. Didn’t have any.” He smiled at her. “You worry too much, Mandy. You’re here because I had time to listen and you wanted to talk. No worries, right?”
She shrugged and nibbled at her roll without appetite. Josh was all positive energy and light. She couldn’t say she’d had a lot of experience with it for the past seven or eight years, but she didn’t trust optimism.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Josh pushed his plate aside and turned to focus on her. “So — what do you need, Mandy?”
What did she need? No one asked that anymore. She needed time, money, peace, a man in her life … She straightened and stiffened.
“I know you’re busy with the end of the season coming up, and I see you all over at charity functions.” She made herself stop before she started babbling. “I wonder if you could make an appearance at the store. Sign autographs, maybe or — I don’t know. Just walk around greeting customers?” She held her breath and tried to read his face but couldn’t.
“Wow.” He turned thoughtful and looked across the room for a moment. “I usually don’t do appearances for private businesses, just nonprofits or companies I have endorsements with. Why, Mandy?”
She shrugged. “We’re sinking. Dad used to come in, but after his stroke, he wasn’t up to it anymore. And there are newer places in town, discount places. We were popular when it was Dad’s store, when people might get to see him or shake his hand. Before the Scorpions came to town, the Diamondbacks were sort of our team. He finished his career with them, you know? Sometimes old teammates would come in if they were in town. We’d get tons of customers when Dad and his buddies were at the store.”
Whirlwind Romance: 10 Short Love Stories Page 47
