Chapter Ten
Rob
I couldn’t believe the mess I was in. And worse, I couldn’t let it affect my play. After screaming at Nico for an hour, he reminded me that I had a morals clause in my contract. Sex with a reporter in the press box violated that big time. And while I was sputtering my outrage, he told me to go home. Worse, he sat in my car just to make sure I got there. And all the while, the bastard kept saying that it was for my own good. I had no idea why the hell he cared so much, and when I asked, he said it was because no one had stopped him when he was young and stupid, and it would have made all the difference in his life.
I had nothing to say to that except that I believed in Heidi. She wasn’t going to write anything negative about me. Yeah, maybe that was naive, but I still trusted her.
If only I had a way to contact her. Thanks to Nico’s interference, she’d walked off without giving me her phone number or email address, and though I knew her last name, there were a zillion Heidi Wongs on social media. Once I was at home, I called the newspaper where she worked, but what the hell could I say? The Bobcats were obsessive about controlling media contact. I couldn’t leave my real name or contact information. I finally just said I was Rob from Ft. Lauderdale and begged her to email me with her contact information. I gave her a brand-new email address and prayed she got the message.
And then I waited.
It was stupid to think she’d get her work messages on a Saturday night. It was even more stupid to get anxious because I didn’t hear anything on Sunday, either. By Monday morning practice, I was a mess—defiant toward Nico, angry at myself, and wholly unfocused. I tried to play it cool, but everyone noticed. Fortunately, I was able to pass it off as nerves after my less-than-amazing performance on Saturday, but that wasn’t going to last. I knew I had to get my mind off Heidi, but damn it, there was no way that was going to happen. Not unless I was able to talk to her again. I needed to reassure her that I had nothing to do with Nico’s threats and that I would do everything I could to get that video from him.
I thought I’d managed to get my wandering brain back in line, but the minute I stepped onto the field, I saw her everywhere. I remembered how she’d looked in the fading sunlight, her black hair showing red highlights from the sunset. How her mouth had opened in awe as she looked up at the stands, and how we’d laughed about it while we walked the bases. That was hard enough, but then I looked at the press box and remembered the way her body had fisted me. It was the most pleasure I’d ever felt. And just like that, my concentration shattered.
Batting practice was humiliating. If I thought I’d showed badly in the game, this was exponentially worse. I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, and everyone noticed. Including the Bobcats manager, who sauntered up to me. As the team coach, he was a big man with jowls and tired eyes, and when he spoke, he tended to blast like a foghorn. He was also a legend in baseball and a few months ago, he’d seemed really excited to work with me. Right now, he just looked grim.
“Coach?” I asked as he walked up.
“Feeling the pressure?” he asked.
“Er, yeah. I guess.”
His eyes narrowed, but his voice remained unusually quiet. “Look, you’re not the first rookie to get up his own ass first season—”
“I know—”
“But you’re one of the best-paid ones.” He spoke right over me, and I figured I’d better button my lip. But then he was silent, staring hard at me, and I swallowed and scrambled for something to say.
“Yes, Coach.”
“Nico says it’s a girl.” He pronounced “girl” like he was farting and grunting at the same time.
“Nico should keep his nose out—”
“Don’t get smart, rookie,” he said with a kind of bark. The foghorn wasn’t far away, so I decided to show some humility.
“I’m not trying to be smart, Coach. I respect Nico’s opinion,” I lied, “but I had it under control.”
“Bullshit.” There’s the foghorn, and I winced. “Nico never gets involved unless you’re an idiot.” His jowls quivered as he glared at me. “Were you an idiot?”
Hard to deny that one. And since I’d never lied to my coach in my entire life, I had to fess up the truth. “Maybe.”
He snorted. “It’s not pills or booze, is it? She’s not pushing that shit on you?”
“No.” I bit the word out. Everyone was tested for drugs, and I was as clean as a whistle. But that didn’t stop everyone from asking.
“Then it’s just tits and ass. So get over it.”
I clamped my mouth shut. Heidi was a hell of a lot more than T&A, though I wasn’t sure how I knew that. Objectively speaking, all we’d done was have the best sex of my life. Twice. Though when I thought of her, I remembered the way we laughed with each other. How everything felt easy with her, including the sex.
Coach coughed out a breath. “Listen, Rob, pussy ain’t new to you. You’ve had plenty and still hit homers. And that’s your job, the reason you’re here on my diamond. So ditch the girl and do your job. Got it?”
I swallowed. He was right. Problem was, I’d been trying to get Heidi out of my brain for two days now and it hadn’t worked. And as for the nights, I’d jerked off with her panties in my hand, so no, I didn’t have my head on straight. What the hell was I going to do?
“Oh Jesus. Here she is,” Coach grumbled.
I whipped around, straining to see Heidi. But it wasn’t her. Instead, I saw the team owner, Joe DeLuce, strutting in with his daughter, Brittany, on his arm.
Brittany. Oh shit. I’d promised to see her after Saturday’s game in the owner’s booth, but had been so preoccupied with Heidi, I’d completely forgotten.
Meanwhile, the bottle blonde’s gaze found mine immediately and her bow of a mouth pursed in a flirty way. I couldn’t tell if she was blowing kisses or was annoyed at me because I’d forgotten our meeting. I’d already been warned by my older teammates that Brittany liked to drape herself on the new talent. I was this year’s selection and up until Saturday, I hadn’t minded one bit. She was gorgeous, a hot kisser (we’d never done more), and knew when to back away when I had to practice. But after seeing Heidi again, Brittany became just one more complication I didn’t want. But she was the owner’s daughter, and I needed to make nice.
“Give me five minutes, Coach,” I said. “Maybe ten. And then I’ll start hitting homers. I swear.”
Coach didn’t respond except with a grunt. But I knew that meant I had my ten minutes.
There’s nothing like a spoiled, alpha girl to shrink a guy’s libido. I’d dated a couple back in high school, so I knew the type. I hadn’t been a football star, so I didn’t rate the top girls, but I was an athlete and that gained some attention. But it had been enough for me to realize that the pretty curves weren’t worth the effort.
“Hey, Brittany, sorry about Saturday.”
“It’s okay. I understand the pressure you’re under.” She pursed her lips again and flashed me a coy look. I couldn’t help but compare her to Heidi, who wouldn’t know how to be coy if her life depended on it. “Maybe we can get together tonight. I’ll help you unwind.”
Hell, had she just offered to have sex with me while standing less than three feet from her father and my boss? The idea was enough to obliterate my libido completely, which had been my plan. I gave her a shrug.
“I need to focus, Brittany. Let me get my head on straight, and then maybe I’ll give you a call.”
This time, there was a definite pout and her brows narrowed a fraction in annoyance, but a moment later, it all smoothed out. “How about I just watch you practice then? I’ll be your personal cheering section.”
I was still trying to figure out how to gracefully tell her to go away when her father spoke up, his voice friendly but with an undercurrent of threat. “Let the boy do what he needs to do, Brit. He has to do well on Wednesday.”
“Of course, Daddy,” she said quickly. “I’m just trying to be encouraging.”
Here it was, the classic dilemma. Would I be swayed by the carrot or the stick? Except in my case, they were both sticks. I didn’t want to get close to either one of them. Fortunately for me, that brought all my wandering attention back to my purpose. Sure, I still worried about Heidi, but I’d sworn years ago to not let anything interfere with baseball. It was the real secret to my success, and now I recommitted to it.
I gave both DeLuces a respectful nod and headed back to the batting cage. On the way, I passed our manager and under my breath, I muttered, “I’m under control now, Coach. Thanks.”
He grunted, which was baseball speak for “prove it.” So I did.
I grabbed my bat and stepped up to the plate. I noticed pretty quick that Coach wasn’t the only one watching. About half the team had stopped what they were doing to judge me. The other half was finishing their work while keeping an eye cocked in my direction. And then there was Brittany, stepping up right in my line of vision. Her blond hair was blowing in the breeze and she’d angled herself so the full length of her legs were in view just above the fencing.
Perfect. Because I really didn’t want to see that. Which meant I swung my gaze to the white ball held in the pitcher’s hand. My whole world narrowed to the bat in my hands and the ground beneath my feet as I lined myself up. Everything else faded away.
There!
I saw the baseball speeding toward me. A white explosion of movement. My body reacted before my mind said anything. It flowed toward the white dot in the way that Niagara Falls flows to the basin below. I was smooth and inevitable, and with enough force to smash a Mack Truck.
Homer.
In the background, I heard Brittany squeal and clap her hands in delight. I saw, more than heard, the manager’s grunt of approval. And all around the field, my teammates nodded or spit according to their disposition. None of that mattered.
Inside, I felt right. Everything was aligned again. I’d come back home to baseball and Heidi was back in my life. Those were good things, even if all the details weren’t sorted out. It was all about patience. That’s what I’d told Heidi on Saturday, and that’s what I would stick with.
Patience. So I relaxed back into my stance and waited for the pitch to be perfect. And it was. I hit it with perfect timing. And I did it again and again. I hit so well that even the batting coach was impressed, and he rarely offered anything but corrections. By the end of the day, I went home tired and happy. The mood lasted right up until I checked my new secret email address for messages.
Not one.
Heidi hadn’t responded.
Suddenly, the world was dark, and I was despondent.
So much for my newfound rightness with the world. Hell. I had to find her before depression crept into my life or I was in trouble for sure.
I didn’t find her for two more days, and even then, I wasn’t certain. It came in a message from my mother about a Chinese woman reporter who was poking around town asking questions about me. There were lots of reporters in the world, many of them Asian, but I knew in my heart it was Heidi. What was she doing back in Nebraska? Was she after a story, even though she’d promised? If it wasn’t for the fact that we were just starting a three-game series against the White Sox, I would have hopped in my car and driven straight home. But we were in Chicago and I had to focus.
Fortunately, I had a plan.