Double Play (9 page)

“The only hot date he needs is with his own bed,” Red muttered. He nudged Pace, which equaled a hug in Red’s world.
“Alone.”

Pace just sighed and kicked them both out.

 

 

Unable
to sleep after Pace’s call, Holly alternately paced her condo and stared at her blank computer screen. She was trying to write her first article, but every time she wrote a sentence, she considered hitting Delete instead of Save.

This might have been because she’d kissed her subject.

She paced some more, obsessed some more, then called her best friend, Allie.

“About damn time, chica,” Allie said. “I’ve been worried.”

They hadn’t touched base all week, which was all Holly’s fault as Allie had called several times. “I’m sorry. I’m starting a new series.”

“Which means you’re pacing in front of your computer, cursing Tommy and life in general. One of these days, maybe you’ll try it my way.”

Which involved yoga, health food, and a complete lack of stress. Unfortunately, Holly fell over whenever she attempted yoga, she had an ongoing love affair with junk food, and she lacked the ability to live stress free. “My way is fine. Or it would be if Tommy would trust me to pick the series ideas.”

“Interesting that you want your scumbag of a boss to trust you, when you don’t trust anyone.”

“I trust you.”

“When you trust so few,” Allie amended. “Yeah, you write about secrets, chica, but remember, not all secrets mean someone is cruel and neglectful. Not everyone with a secret is your mother.”

Holly sighed. “Yeah.” She and Allie had met in a college creative writing course, and despite their differences, they’d bonded over their horrible teacher. They’d roomed together for two years, Allie and her tofu, Holly and her chocolate. They’d become close, with Allie turning into Holly’s first true friend.

Now Allie lived in LA working as a housekeeper for the rich and famous while writing a screenplay on the side. They saw each other as often as Holly got to LA, which hadn’t been much lately. Allie was Holly’s one tie, the lone string on her heart, and she depended on it to keep her grounded.

“I hear your baseball phenom hit an RBI double and a sacrifice fly to go along with his seven innings of no-hitters in his last game,” Allie said. “He’s expected to do at least that in Philly.”

“I didn’t know you were into baseball.”

“I looked it up so I’d sound smart. Did it work?”

“I’m impressed.”

“Good. Mission accomplished.” Allie had a smile in her voice. “I was beginning to think maybe you’d fallen off the planet. Or better yet, found a hot guy or something.”

“Or something.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m right?”

“No,” Holly said on a laugh. “You’re not right. I’m swamped with getting this series started, that’s all.” Or not, she thought, staring at her laptop. “I just wanted to check in.”

“Aw, you miss me.”

“Yeah.” Holly felt a smile cross her face. “I really do.”

“Then stop running around like a chicken without a head. Stand still and grow roots. And if you could do that here in LA, with me, that’d be great. This is where it’s at, chica.”

“For you maybe, but I write nonfiction. I need to travel to the stories.”

“So switch to fiction. So is he on the Heat?”

“He who?”

“He, the hottie distracting you who.”

“Stop it.” But she caved as she sank to her chair and stared at the computer. “He’s the phenom. Phenoms don’t tend to like bossy reporters.”

Allie laughed. “I love it. You always did aim high.”

“You heard the nothing’s-going-to-happen part, right?”

“Call me when you have details.”

“There won’t be any.”

“Uh-huh.”

Holly thunked her head on her desk. “Well I don’t
want
there to be details, how’s that?”

Allie laughed and Holly hung up. She looked around at the condo she’d rented for the next month and let out a breath. Another condo in another city.

She had no idea where she’d go next.

Contrary to what Allie thought, that was actually the fun part of her job, nothing tying her down . . . Or it had been, until recently, when this odd sense of restlessness started hounding her. Maybe Allie had a point, maybe she should think about settling. She didn’t have to do it the way her mother had, with all the various addictions in play—the men, the shopping, the lying . . . which when combined had destroyed her, and nearly Holly as well. It’d certainly left them in the poor house.

Or more accurately, a single-wide in south Georgia. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Nope, if they’d been a real family, it’d have been fine. But Holly’s mom had always blamed Holly for her problems, and Holly in turn had blamed her mother for . . . everything.

They’d never been a real family.

Talk about being tied down. Poverty was the worst of ties. The memories were harsh, but Holly had raised herself and gotten out. The days of being so poor she couldn’t pay attention were over.

And yes, maybe now she was a little tough, a little jaded, and a whole lot mistrustful, but she had her morals firmly in place, instincts honed sharp.

Which is how she screwed up enough courage to call Tommy.

“Finally,” he grumbled. “I was getting ready to send out a search party. You don’t return calls now?”

“I’m sorry. I need to talk to you.”

“Well, I need to talk to you, too, doll. I need you to get me your article ASAP. I’m running it tomorrow.”

“It’s not due until Monday.”

“I know, but Alicia crapped out on me and now I have a spot to fill. You’re it.”

“I need some more time.”

“What do you mean you need more time?”

“Actually,” she said with a glance at her blank screen, “I need to change subjects. I’m thinking ice dancing.”

He laughed good and hard. “Oh no you don’t.”

He had no idea. She
had
to change subjects—she’d kissed hers! “I have a little conflict of interest.” A six foot two conflict of interest . . .

“Huh?”

Tommy had given Holly a chance when no one else would, so she felt she owed him for that, and she gave him the truth that meant so much to her. “It’s possible that I’m developing a very small . . .”

“Zit? Parasite?
What?
”

“Crush. On one of the players.”

“So?”

“So . . .” The last time she’d dated someone related to her work, it had ended badly. Very badly. So badly Alex was probably still wishing her dead, and she was still wishing she’d never faked an orgasm for him.

She didn’t intend to date Pace, or to kiss him again for that matter, but she had to face one fact. “It’ll be hard to be objective.”

“I’m not paying you to be objective,” Tommy said. “This isn’t a series about baseball facts. This is a personal commentary. Your opinion matters, so if you’re getting close to them, then so much the better. And hey, I hear the players all do tons of charity work with kids. Get me pics of that, pronto. It’ll go good alongside whatever tough-hitting stuff you write. We’ll tug on the heartstrings, then rip out their guts.”

“You are one sick man, Tommy.”

“I know it. Now send me the damn article.”

She looked at her blank screen again and winced. “And if it’s biased?”

“I’ll un-bias it.
Send it
.”

“Tommy—”

“Look, we’ve done this. Send it or quit.”

She gave one brief thought to doing just that. But two things stopped her. One, her fear of being poor again, and two, quitting in shitty economic times because of a guy she’d spent one hour with had to be the definition of
stupid female
, and she hated
stupid females
.

“What’ll it be, doll?”

Dammit.
“Give me a few hours. I’ll write your damn article.”

There’s no crying in baseball!

—Jimmy Dugan in
A League of Their Own

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For
the first time in recent memory, Pace slept like the living dead. When he woke up, he stretched and felt another first: no aches, no pains. In fact, he felt damn good. He eyed the empty vitamin pack by his bed. If Tucker’s stuff had done this, then it was worth its weight in gold.

He got up, showered, and checked his e-mail. Samantha had sent him the link to
American Online Living
and Holly’s first baseball series article on her blog. She’d profiled their close-knit team, highlighting the friendship of Ty, Joe, and Henry. They were a threesome now, but she wrote about how they’d once been a fivesome, before Jim and Slam had been traded. The guys had put a positive spin on the situation for her, and Pace found the article nonjudg mental and thoughtful, but also a little on edge.

She was on the hunt for secrets, and he knew it. The Heat hadn’t had any bad press lately, and that was always a good thing, but none of them were angels and it wouldn’t take much digging to find dirt.

Holly
sat at the private gate at the airport waiting for the Heat’s plane to be ready for boarding. Tommy was so excited about this Philly trip that he’d called three times since she’d gotten to the airport, and she knew if he could have somehow switched positions with her, he would have.

“Find any secrets yet?” he demanded to know.

“Nope.”

“You losing your touch?”

“I told you I didn’t want this assignment.”

“It’s a great assignment. Oh, and if the Heat go all the way this year, I want a signed ball.”

“If I dig out any secrets, no one’s going to want to sign a ball for either of us.”

“Yeah.” Tommy sighed. “But since you tend to sell advertising space like crazy, I’ll have to live with a fat bank account instead. So . . . which one are you sleeping with?”

“What? None of them!”

“You said you had a crush.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m
sleeping
with him.”

“Maybe you should. Get the inside scoop. Yeah, do it!”

Holly hung up on him and boarded.

When she’d been invited by Sam on this trip, she’d had no idea what to expect, maybe a luxurious trip from start to finish, with maids and butlers to serve the players every whim. Instead they flew on a relatively no-frills chartered jet with a single steward onboard. The Heat players wore suits and looked good while they were at it. They also smelled good. The support staff was there as were coaches, management. Sam’s brother, Jeremy, was aboard, too. He was Sam’s equivalent at the Charleston Bucks, and the two of them often co-chaired publicity events for both teams together.

Holly looked at the testosterone filled cabin. All around her was the scent of big, built men—deodorant, soap, af tershave. She’d never seen such concentrated . . . maleness in one place before, and it was distracting to say the least.

But she was here for a job, and she would use her time wisely. Forcing herself to get to work, she pulled out her computer, booted it up, and opened Word. Then stared at it for a while. Yeah, look at her, hard at work.

Two rows ahead of her, Ty and Henry were playing cards, Henry’s head bopping to some beat from his iPod. Just to her left, Wade and Pace were talking and laughing, amusing each other with the ease of old, tight friends.

Then Pace turned his head toward her. Wade was saying something to him, but Pace didn’t take his eyes off her as he slowly nodded a greeting, his gaze dark and assessing and . . .

Warm enough that she needed to adjust the overhead fan right onto her face. Whew. The guy was edible. No other word need apply. She looked at her blank screen and tried to concentrate, which turned out to be impossible, so she clicked open her Sudoku program.