Big Leagues (15 page)

Her smile slowly faded as she became entranced.
His stride had such a smooth confidence, commanding regal power
with each step. Suddenly he stopped and turned around, giving her a
thoughtful smile. It caught her off guard and she snapped her head
away, pretending not to have seen it. She noticed the stadium
filling up with fans and spun around to face the scoreboard
clock.

Balls!

Snatching her belongings off the bench, she
dashed toward the press box.

A ten-day road trip to three cities with the
best food in the country and I missed out on deep-dish pizza,
cheese curds and pierogies in favor of salads, salads and more
salads.

Besides being too busy to enjoy the regional
delicacies, Cat had little to complain about in the last ten days.
It had been a successful trip. Out of the nine matchups, the team
took seven games, including a sweep in Pittsburgh. With two months
left in the season, playoff fever was beginning to spread. She
refused to wait until the plane took off to fire up her laptop. The
sweep had sparked an idea for a new piece about the possible
matchups if the playoffs were today. The article centered on the
obstacles the contenders faced:

IFS AND BUTS
.

She paused, backspaced and added:
By
Catriona McDaniel.

Her fingers had the keyboard smoking when Eddie
snagged the seat next to her once again. She smiled politely and
went back to her computer.

“Did you enjoy the trip?”

She didn’t look away from her computer screen.
“I don’t have any complaints.”

“Oh man, I love playing in the
Midwest.”

“Oh yeah?” She accompanied the dry response
with a deep concentration on the keyboard.

“Hell yes. I can’t get enough of these
chicas-next-door types. All cute and innocent. I tell ya, off the
record, I’d play for half the dinero in the Central.”

"I'm from the Midwest."

"I know." He winked at her, put his headphones
in his ears and fired up his iPod.

She smiled.

Cat was walking down the parking lot row when
she heard another set of suitcase wheels behind her. She turned
around and saw Eddie Lopez with a rolling Nautica bag.

She pointed toward the building. “I think you
missed your primo player parking spots back there.”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

She opened the back door to the Jeep and threw
her suitcase in. “Okay.”

This was a first. Players didn’t usually ask
her for anything, except to leave them alone after a bad
game.

“Tomorrow’s an off day, so I was gonna go hit
the Strip tonight. You in?”

“Oh.” She toyed with the keys in her hands.
“That’s really nice of you, but I’m tired. It’s been a crazy road
trip.”

Eddie stepped in closer, backing her into the
Jeep. “All the more reason you need to unwind.”

“Um, no.” She decided to try the direct
approach. “I’m not interested.”

“I see. I guess you like your sausage a little
aged.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he snarled. “I saw you sneaking
down from the big man’s penthouse early this morning.”

Before she could protest, he added, “It’s cool.
I’m not gonna say anything. I just thought if you like bratwurst so
much, maybe you’d like to try a chorizo.”

She inhaled sharply when she felt his hand on
her hip. She shot a look around the well-lit parking lot. There
were plenty of people, no need to be nervous.

Tell that to my nerves.

“I’m going to do you a favor and forget you
said that, Eddie. I think I’m going to go home now.”

“Maybe you think too much.”

Her phone rang and Eddie jumped.

Cat took advantage of his jolt to step away
from him. She pulled the phone out of her purse and smiled when she
saw the caller ID.

“Tams!”

“So you do remember me?”

“I’m sorry I haven’t called, but I did
email.”

“I know, but I hate talking via email. It’s
impersonal and I don’t feel that you get the entire Tams experience
to which you have grown accustomed.”

Eddie leaned in. “I’m gonna go, but if you
change your mind, I'll be at Orpheus.”

She watched both him and his suitcase strolling
away. “Phew. You just saved me.”

“What was that?”

“Eddie Lopez totally made a pass at
me.”

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you
bagged a baller. You could pick somebody with better stats,
though.”

Cat hopped in the Jeep and took off without a
second thought. “No, it was unwelcome and really
creepy.”

She shuddered in the warm seat.

“Libido Lopez, huh? I guess salaries and egos
aren’t the only things that increase in the majors.”

“Don’t forget tempers.” Ray Hedd came to
mind.

“I called to give you the official countdown to
the end of the Bulldogs’ sucky season, only twenty days to go,
which means only twenty-one days before I come see you.”

“Yay!”

“I figure I’ll stay for the weekend but then
the Bavarian Cream Puff will meet me, adore me and appoint me Head
of Ballpark Operations.”

“Naturally. You know, if you’re serious, you’ve
been at Porterville for so long, I bet you could get a job with the
Chips if you tried. I sure could use an ally around
here.”

“Aw. Is it that bad?”

“Bouvier is going to eat me for breakfast and
the players are going to use my bones for batting practice. And do
you remember Dustin Carlyle? He came to Porterville with Derhoff
that one time?”

“I think so … greasy brown hair and dork
glasses? On the short and scrawny side? Lifelong
virgin?”

“That’s the one. He’s made it pretty clear he’s
gunning for my job.” She sighed. “At least I’ve got
Erich.”

“Wait,
Erich
? As in, Mr. König to the
rest of us peons?”

Cat giggled. Nothing got by Tams.

“Just so you know, last time I checked he was
still a billionaire, since I know you abhor money so
much.”

“He’s different than most rich people. He’s …
nice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He is!”

“I thought you had your claws on that
babe-next-door anyway.”

“Benji is cute.”

“I cannot wait to come out there. Maybe your
good luck will rub off on me because right now,
nothing’s
rubbing on me. Are you guys home from Pittsburgh yet?”

“I’m just now pulling into my
apartment.”

“I’m sure you’re exhausted so I’ll you go, but
call me soon, okay? Preferably during work hours.”

Cat chuckled. “Deal.”

Cat jerked her luggage out of the Jeep and
dropped it on the asphalt. The large suitcase had lost a wheel
somewhere between taking off from Pittsburgh and landing in Vegas.
Although she had carried it across the tarmac, now that the bag was
soon to be retired, she had no qualms about dragging it across the
parking lot and up the stairs. It banged each concrete step with a
loud thud. Noting that several of the neighbors’ lights were off,
she pictured them stirring in their warm beds with each thump.
While she normally prided herself on her basic human decency, this
was her fourth city in ten days and she didn’t have enough strength
in her to be a good neighbor. As she reached the second floor, Cat
saw that one apartment was illuminated. Its door whooshed open and
from the frame, a bellow sounded.

* * *

Benji had been watching the Discovery Channel
on mute for the last two hours to make sure he didn’t miss his
neighbor’s homecoming. A dull thumping distracted him from the
closed captions, and he rushed out to the hallway. “You’re
home!”

His level of enthusiasm wasn’t matched. “I’m
home.”

He frowned. “Rough trip?”

She lifted her suitcase and showed him the
broken wheel. “That’s what I get for buying this out of a van in
the mall parking lot.”

He picked up the wobbling suitcase. “Let me
help you with that.” He squinted at the crooked label that clung to
the canvas by a single pin. He grinned and looked up. “Sunsonite.
Nice.”

Shifting the suitcase to his other arm, he
handed her a rolled up magazine and several letters.

“Got your mail, too.”

“Thanks again.”

She unlocked the door and closed her eyes as
the cool blast of air-conditioning washed over them. “You can come
in, if you promise to ignore all the unpacked boxes.”

“Ah, still unpacking. I was hoping you were
building a fort.”

She pointed to the couch. “Just put the bag
over there. Or chuck the damn thing out the window, your
choice.”

He placed the suitcase on the cushions. “Oh,
don’t blame the Sunsonite. It’s probably not made for travel. It’s
one of those closet-only kind of suitcases.”

She filled a teakettle with water and flipped
the stove’s dial to high. Benji joined her in the
kitchen.

“So? How was the trip?”

“You know, I thought being a professional
sportswriter would be all glamorous. A new city every three days to
explore.” She sighed. “As with the city I’m in now, there’s no
time.”

“I assume you haven’t Viva’d Las Vegas
yet?”

She shrugged. “No, but it’s okay. I’m not
really into the whole nightclub scene anyway.”

“Oh, Cat, no. There’s a lot better things to do
in Vegas than gambling and strip clubs.”

She raised an eyebrow, and he smiled
mischievously. “Well … gambling, anyway.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious. There’s Red Rock, Lake Mead, the
Toiyabe Forest.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The sandstones, the wildlife, the
foliage … You’d fall in love.”

“That does sound nice. Maybe I’ll ask you for a
tour when the offseason comes around.” She raised her hands in
front of her and spread them apart to form an imaginary banner.
“The
real
Las Vegas.”

“Just say the word and I’ll show you
mine.”

She averted her eyes and bit her bottom
lip.

He cringed. “Uh, Vegas, that is. My Vegas. Not
my— Vegas. The city. I’ll show you my city of Las
Vegas.”

She giggled. “Deal. Right now, all I want to do
is hop into bed.”

They shared an awkward moment again. She put
her hand to her forehead and looked up with a blushing
smile.

“M-my bed, I mean. Sleep. Much needed
sleep.”

They both shook their heads in amusement. She
turned around to answer the whistle of the teakettle. She reached
for two cups and the decaffeinated tea bags.

“Between writing the pregame previews and the
postgame recaps, not to mention following the actual games, I
barely had time to sleep.”

She handed him a teacup.

“Hmm.” He twirled the tea string. “Too bad
you’ve got to watch the games. Probably no getting out of that,
huh?”

She shot him a playful glare and took a sip.
“Not so much.”

“Do you ever get a day off?”

“Only if the players do. Most of the time not
even then. Just because there isn’t a game, doesn’t mean
transactions aren’t being made. You know, players going on the DL,
trades, that kind of thing.”

“The news never sleeps.”

“You got that right.”

“Well, you get personal days,
right?”

She leaned against the fridge and her eyes
flipped to the ceiling. “Personal days. I think I read something
about those. I assumed they were a myth.”

“Oh no. I knew a guy who knew a guy who took
one.”

“I guess I could. Then I’d have to worry about
what backstabbing tricks the reporter underneath me would try to
pull. He wants my job. Or wants me dead. Only time will
tell.”

Benji brushed his dark hair off his forehead.
“What’s this? You already have an arch nemesis?” He placed his
teacup on the counter and sat on one of her barstools. “It’s been,
like, two weeks. That’s pretty good.”

She pulled out the other chair and joined him
at the counter. “Ugh. He’s annoying, but trust me, he’s no, um, Lex
Luthor? He’s a diabolical one, right?”

Benji waggled his eyebrows. “Uh, only if you
consider engineering an atomic death ray or building an army of
supervillains diabolical. If you don’t, then, well, I have to ask,
what exactly is your definition of
diabolical
?”

“Dustin’s not in death-ray territory. Yet. Give
him a day without supervision and watch out,
Metropolis.”

Benji rested his head on his hand and gazed at
her with a smile. “Well, when’s the next rest day?”