Angel in Armani (20 page)

Maggie’s expression softened. “A dog. What kind?”

“He’s a big black Lab. A big softy.” Most of the time.

“What’s his name?”

“Dougal. Do you have a dog?” Sara asked. Safer to talk about innocuous things to start with. Like dogs. Not Lucas.

Maggie shook her head. “My mom had a gorgeous Border collie when I was little, but he died. And after my mom passed away, there never quite seemed to be the right time to get another one. Dad was always traveling a lot and he didn’t want me to have to take care of a dog by myself. Or at least, that was his excuse. I think dogs remind him of my mom.”

“How old were you when she died?” Sara asked.

Maggie smiled, a little wobble in the expression. “I was twelve. Too young. But Dad was great. He’s still great. How long have you had Dougal?”

“He’s six and a bit,” Sara said. “And I got him when he was a couple months old.” She didn’t add the part about Jamie dying and the grief that had driven her to want a dog so badly.

“Lucky you,” Maggie said. She paused at a doorway and threw the door open. “This is the conference room,” she said. “It’s got the best view of the complex.” She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the far wall and pulled up several sets of blinds. “Come have a look.”

Sara walked over her and peered out the glass. They were looking not at the stadium itself but at what lay behind it. Which consisted of several small baseball fields, a row of caged enclosures, and a couple of other single-story fairly nondescript-looking buildings.
NEW YORK SAINTS
was painted in bright-yellow letters across the flat roof of one of them.

“I never realized all this was here,” Sara said. “I’ve only ever driven past the stadium. You don’t see all this from the road.”

Dark eyebrows lifted. “Lucas said you were a local. You’ve never been to a game here?”

Damn. Her dirty secret was about to be out. Again. Maybe it would be easier to have a T-shirt printed with
SORRY, I DON’T LIKE BASEBALL
. Save the explanations.

“I was more interested in helicopters than sports, growing up,” she said.

“Not even a school tour?”

“Not that I remember.” She was pretty sure there’d been a field trip to Deacon Field at some point, but she’d played hooky.

“Huh,” Maggie said. “So you’re not a baseball nut then?”

“No, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It makes a nice change,” Maggie said. “We need some sanity around here.” She waved at the buildings out the window. “Training facilities. Mostly. We use the fields for some of the community leagues we get involved in, too, but mostly for practice. Gotta keep those players on their toes.”

“It’s bigger than I thought,” Sara said.

“Yeah, we’re like an airport that way. The public only sees half of what goes on. Thank goodness.” Maggie stared out at the buildings. “It’s bad enough running security for the stadium on game day, so we limit access to the rest of the complex. Less potential for chaos. As much as that’s possible in the majors. So what has Lucas told you about the place?”

“Not much,” Sara said. “There hasn’t been that much time. He’s always reading stuff on his laptop when I fly him places.”

“Yeah, his schedule is pretty nuts. Mal’s and Alex’s, too. But yay, you’re a Saints history virgin.” She rubbed her hands together. “I can tell you all about us.”

“Ollie Shields told me a little bit about spring training when I was in Orlando.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, he did it while flirting madly.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I figured he pretty much flirts with anything female.”

“It is kind of instinctive with him,” Maggie said. But her expression was fond exasperation, not annoyance. “He’s a good guy, though. Just needs the right gal to sort him out, maybe.”

Sara held up her hands. “Don’t look at me, I don’t think I’m any athlete’s ideal mate. He needs someone who at least understands the game. Like you. You must know it inside out.”

“Yup. Hopeless baseball nerd. Always have been. In the blood, like we said. But despite that, I’ll leave Ollie to someone else’s capable hands, thank you very much. He and I work best as friends.”

There was a story behind that, Sara thought. But she wasn’t about to ask the woman about her love life on their first meeting.

“Okay, enough about Oliver,” Maggie said. “He’s already got a healthy enough ego without us boosting it vicariously. Let’s go touring.”

They made their way out to the stadium via another trip in the elevator and a confusing series of turns and corridors that ended in a locked fire door. Maggie produced a security card, swiped it, and the door opened. They stepped out into a concrete tunnel that looked pretty much like the ones in every stadium where Sara had ever gone to a concert. There were stripes in Saints colors running horizontally along the walls but that was about the only distinguishing feature.

Maggie kept walking. “I always thought it must be pretty cool to know how to fly a chopper. Just never had the time to learn.”

“Well, it’s never too late. And helicopters are more fun than planes. Most of the time.”

“Maybe after this year’s season is done,” Maggie said. “Things might have calmed down a little by then. Then you can show me the basics.”

“Sure. And if I fly you anywhere, you can sit up front with me and I can explain some of it to you.”

“That would be cool.” Maggie stopped as they reached a security screen. This time she pulled out a key and dealt with the chain and padlock that secured it. “Better put on those gloves … this is where we get into the stands.”

Sara pulled on her gloves. “So do you travel as much Lucas does?”

Maggie shook her head. “His schedule is the worst,” she said. “Alex’s is bad enough but now that they’ve dumped Lucas with spring training, he’s got the short straw.” She paused. “You know, I’m not sure that he even likes flying. We did quite a few plane trips when the deal was being approved. He always goes quiet and works through the whole flight, like you said.”

Sara nodded. “Yes, I got that impression, too. Though he’s pretty good at hiding it, if he really is bothered by it. Which is better than the ones who white-knuckle the whole thing. Or barf.” She wrinkled her nose. “The barfing is the worst.”

Maggie grimaced sympathetically. “Ugh. That’s bad enough on a big plane. So Lucas has never tossed his cookies on your helo? Too bad, that would give me something to tease him about. Dr. Gorgeous shows a weakness. He’s kind of a little too perfect, that one. Makes you want to rumple him up a bit. Or it would if I didn’t have Alex,” she added with a wink as she dragged the screen back. It made a rusty protesting whining noise as she did and she frowned at it, obviously making a mental note.

Sara decided to ignore the rumpling comment. “No, no barfing. How long have you known him, or them, I guess?”

“Not long,” Maggie said as she started walking again. “I only met the three of them when Dad sold the Saints.”

“And you and Alex?”

“Yeah.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “It’s kind of ridiculous. I should hate the man. After all, he kind of stole my baseball team … but, well, you’ve seen him?”

“I have,” Sara said. “He’s pretty easy on the eyes.”

“Well, so is Dr. Gorgeous. And Mal, for that matter. Though easy on the eyes isn’t always easy on the heart…” Maggie trailed off.

“So I hear,” Sara said. She stopped to take in the view before her. They were standing about halfway up one of the empty stands, looking down on the field. The stadium arced around them, the stillness kind of eerie. “This is pretty cool.” Not as cool as being up in the air, but somehow the emptiness gave the same feeling of space.

Maggie smiled. “I think so. You’d better be careful. Baseball kind of sneaks up on you when you least expect it.”

Sara wondered if she was talking about baseball or the men involved in it. But she refused to take the bait. “I’ll keep that in mind, too,” she said. “But why don’t you tell me about it anyway?”

*   *   *

By the time Sara got home, Dougal in tow and bouncing all over the place with delight at being back with Sara, she was beginning to feel the lack of sleep.

Maggie’s tour of Deacon had been both comprehensive and informative. It had even included a tour of the tunnels in the depths of the stadium, where Maggie had introduced Sara to Malachi Coulter, who like his partners was startlingly attractive. In Mal it was more a tawny, rangy, slightly-too-long-hair-and-tattoos sort of way. He was unmistakably ex-military, though; his bearing and the way he scanned any space they entered gave that away. She’d ferried him to Manhattan and back later in the afternoon, and his ease and familiarity with the helo—not to mention the fact that he called it a helo—were further proof.

But she didn’t ask him where or whom he’d served with. He didn’t offer, which meant she’d judged right and he was the doesn’t-want-to-talk-about-it type. Instead they’d talked a little more about the stadium and the security upgrades Mal was making. Fascinating, even if it was over Sara’s head.

And now she was back home and waiting for Lucas to arrive. She fed Dougal then showered and changed into jeans and a deep raspberry V-neck sweater and her favorite black boots. It was, at least, more female than her uniform. She had no idea if Lucas would want to go out for dinner or something so anything dressier felt like overkill. There was very nice red lace underwear underneath, so that should distract him if she’d judged the outer layers wrongly.

Her stomach was rumbling by the time the intercom buzzed, which sent Dougal padding toward the door, with a woof of alert.

Damn. Dougal. She hadn’t thought about Dougal when she’d agreed to have Lucas come over again. Or how Lucas might feel about a large dog who was going to be expressing his displeasure at Lucas’s presence any second now.

Too late now. She ordered Dougal back onto his spot on the rug in front of the TV and pressed the intercom to let Lucas up.

The sound of his footsteps in the hall outside made Dougal bark and raise himself into a sit. Sara hushed him with a signal, sending him back into a downstay.

She was rigorous with his training and made sure her parents were, too. That way, while he still might bark his head off when they encountered men, he usually didn’t do anything more if they told him not to.

Dougal made a grumbling growl, and Sara kept half an eye on him when she went to open the door.

Lucas had a bouquet of hot pink lilies in one hand and a pizza box in the other. “Hello,” he said.

“Hi.” Sara said, but she didn’t step back to let him in. “Look, I forgot to mention my dog isn’t a big fan of men.”

Lucas’s brows drew together. “Dog? Oh right, you mentioned him. Where was he last night?”

“With my parents. But he’s here now. And he’s going to start barking his fool head off once you step over the threshold. He won’t do anything more than that, I won’t let him, but I wanted to warn you.”

“What kind of dog did you say he was again?” Lucas asked. To his credit, he didn’t look overly concerned with what she’d just told him.

“He’s a black Lab.” From behind her she heard Dougal bark, and she turned to hush him again.

“Big guy, huh? I thought Labs were marshmallows.”

“He is. Just not if you’re tall and male. Don’t ask me why, I’ve had him since he was a puppy, but at some point before I got him, a guy did him wrong. And he hasn’t forgotten.”

“Does he like any guys?”

“He’s okay with my dad. Now.”

“And how long did that take?”

“About six months until he didn’t growl at him every time he saw him. Maybe a year until he would let Dad pat him for more than a second or two.”

“Does he like pizza?” Lucas said.

“Yes. But bribes won’t work. We’ve tried that.”

“Oh well,” Lucas said. “He’s just going to have to get used to me, too.”

She liked his optimism. Even if it was misplaced. “Come on in then.” She stepped back and then turned to face Dougal. He was, as usual, watching the door intently, making little growling noises in the back of his throat.

Lucas moved into the apartment behind her. She braced herself for Dougal to go nuts.

Instead he gave a single short bark and then sat there, ears pricked, eyes on Lucas. His tail started to thump against the floor.

“Am I missing the savage-beast part?” Lucas said. “He doesn’t look so scary to me.”

“This isn’t how he usually reacts,” Sara said, staring at Dougal. No, this was how he acted with people he liked.

“Told you I was charming,” Lucas said. He took a few steps closer to Sara. “Hey, buddy,” he said to Dougal. Dougal tilted his head and panted before barking once. His tail still thumped the floor.

“Stay,” Sara said warningly.

“Hold the pizza,” Lucas said. He held out the box. Sara took it. Lucas walked halfway between her and Dougal. Dougal whined a little and looked at Sara.

“So far so good,” Lucas said. He took another couple of steps, bringing him within arm’s length of Dougal. He crouched down and held out the back of his hand. He was obviously used to dogs. “Hey there, Dougal,” he repeated. “What’s happening?”

Dougal, after a quick look at Sara, stretched his head forward and sniffed Lucas’s hand. And then he whuffed happily and shoved his head under Lucas’s palm, clearly angling for an ear rub.

“Yeah, this one’s a killer,” Lucas said as he obliged.

Sara still couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Of all the men in the world that Dougal could choose not to hate, he was picking Lucas?

Why? It wasn’t like Dougal could tell Lucas was gorgeous. That, Sara kept telling herself, was the reason she had let him back into her bed last night. “He’s never done that with any strange man before. What are you, an orthopedic dog whisperer?”

Lucas twisted back to her, looking smug as he continued to pet Dougal. Dougal looked kind of smug, too. Smug and blissful. “He’s no dummy, he can recognize a guardian angel when he sees one.”

Chapter Fourteen

Sara still wasn’t sure how she felt about Dougal adoring Lucas when she set the helo down at the Vero Beach stadium two days later. It was kind of ridiculous. Each night when Lucas arrived at her apartment, Dougal’s wriggling, yipping welcome became even more ecstatic.