Going All the Way (Knights of Passion Book 1) (28 page)

“Don’t tell me Friar is giving you hitting tips. You’re a pitcher but you have my genes, the potential to be a home run hitter, not a rinky-dink singles guy.”

“Dad, our goal is to get guys on base and then score.” Cody’s tone turned wheedling, more like a boy than the man he was. “We don’t want everyone swinging for the fences. If they do, they tend to strike out more and we lose.”

“Bullshit. I never agreed with that numbers baseball crap. Besides, Cody’s contract is up soon and he needs to start showing the big leagues what he can do. He won’t stay on this losing team forever.”

“We’re in first place.”

“Tied for first place. Next year, your team will be gutted and back to the cellar you go. You can’t compete the way you’ve set it up.” He gestured to Jason. “Signing has-beens, minor league players and journeymen will never get you to the series. No offense, Friar,” he added as an afterthought.

Cody’s confidence drained away with every word and Cole’s face was burning. Jason stepped between the three, diverting attention. “To be honest, I do take offense. I’m hitting the ball solidly. The team is scoring runs. Cody is playing the best he’s ever played. I think your son has done something right.”

Patterson Senior spat a wad of tobacco at his feet and stared at Jason, dislike written all over his face. “I hope you’re not spending any time with this lover boy, Cody. I’d hate for your reputation to be ruined along with his.”

Cole stepped in smoothly. “Mr. Patterson, maybe you’d like to check out some of the new facilities here.”

“Why? I don’t need to see any new weight rooms or training rooms. My son is screwing up his career by listening to your advice and I want to make sure he gets back on track.”

The other man’s tone had turned belligerent with underlying bitterness. Jason had had teammates whose fathers pressured and bullied their kids into playing a certain way and nagged them incessantly. At the time, he was envious of the time those fathers spent with their sons and wished he had a father who would do it. Now, watching Patterson Senior badger his son, it reminded him of how little remained outside of baseball. It was a little glimpse into his own future, except he wouldn’t have any sons to live through. He would be an outsider looking at the sport, remembering what he was missing, not belonging anywhere.

He turned away, suddenly depressed and even more determined to make his mark in the sport before the end. Then he’d talk with Stacia.

J
ason fidgeted with
the tuxedo tie. He hated wearing the monkey suit and had tried to get out of the event, but Stacia reminded him that he owed her and the team to go. It was the Knights’ special charity for local underprivileged kids. How could a big soiree full of self-important pompous asses actually help and how much of that money really went to the charity and not to paying for the party? Stacia pointed out that those pompous asses had deep pockets and could be persuaded to donate a lot of money to help those kids. And it was a condition of his contract.

Either way, he was standing on the doorstep to her condo, a place he had never been, ringing her doorbell. Stacia opened the door, looking radiant in an emerald green evening gown, glittering with thousands of crystal beads. Her long auburn hair was bound up in an elegant twist, with a stray curl or two hanging around her face. His fingers itched to dive into that hairstyle and run his fingers through it, freeing the long tresses and feeling them flow over his hand.

“Do I pass inspection?” Her husky voice reminded him that he had been standing there for a long time, saying nothing.

He cleared his throat and let his gaze slowly travel down her frame, noting the deep cleavage and curve-hugging fabric. The tuxedo pants grew very tight and he shifted against the rising heat in his groin. “Definitely not. No one should see you like this.”

She chuckled, but her eyes reflected the heat and desire he felt. He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

*

Stacia kept a
close eye on Jason as she laughed and gently flirted with several of the players and staff at the charity event. Most of the team had adopted young boys to act as mentors throughout the season. Jason had come on too late for an assignment, but he was quickly surrounded by some of the older boys who clearly remembered his record and had a serious case of hero worship going on. She sipped her chardonnay as she surveyed the room and him.

All was well with the world. Success was within reach, just at her fingertips. One more week and the regular season would be over. Jason would be free to find a new contract and she would be moving on to a new job. Instead of the usual restlessness she felt at the end of a project, she wasn’t sure how she felt. She had had more success with Jason than she had ever expected, more than she had ever felt with any of her other clients. With Jason, there was a connection, a true partnership that went beyond the bedroom and the scorching hot sex. For the first time, she had made a difference. Watching Jason with the younger players and some of the kids from the program reinforced how much change she had inspired in him. Two months ago, he would have stood in the corner, glowering at everyone, hidden behind the high and thick walls he had built so many years ago, if he had even shown up at all. Even the return of his old coach hadn’t dampened his mood. If anything, it had spurred him to action.

She had more than fulfilled her contract, if rumors could be believed. His agent was fielding calls from several teams and, although Jason hadn’t said anything, she thought he might like to stay where he was. He too felt the connection with the players, spending time with the guys on the phone, after games, slowly pulling away from her.

It was subtle and she tried to avoid the pang of hurt that pierced her chest. Her goal was to improve his image and give him a new life. But what if that new life didn’t include her?

It was never intended to include her, if she was being honest with herself. She was supposed to move on, like every other job. For the first time, she was loath to leave Jason and the Knights behind. And she certainly didn’t want to go back to dealing with sleazy politicians. Michael had called her the previous day asking if she would be open to return to Glazier’s campaign, as it was tanking. She could have told him that independent bids, even with her father’s support, were difficult, even more difficult when the candidate was not an incumbent. Many rumors were coming out of the campaign. It was only a matter of time before it imploded.

So what did she want next? Thoughts of her father soured her melancholy mood further. He had not spoken to her in the days since their last conversation and she dreaded the confrontation that would occur when they met that evening. He would expect her to take her place in the Glazier campaign or some other campaign. What did she want?

Jason glanced at her from across the room and the heat in his gaze scorched her, took her breath away, forcing her to turn away so she didn’t betray how she felt.

She handed the empty wine glass to a waiter and grabbed another. A whiff of expensive perfume teased her nose and she turned to see Miranda Callahan standing there, looking refined and in her element. Then again, she had always fit in to the high society crowd, where Stacia was feeling more and more excluded.

“Stacia. Thank you for your success with Jason Friar. He is exactly what I’d hoped for.” She saluted with her wine glass.

“Thank you. Jason did all of the work. I just got the media out of his way.”

“It was genius getting Stan Garvin to write that series on him. How did you do it? He’s been a thorn in my side since I took over the team.”

She smiled and shrugged a little. “Just doing my job.”

“Well, it was very impressive.”

Cole Hammonds walked over. “If you ever are looking for a steady job, give us a call. Our publicity department could use your skills definitely.”

Cole excused himself to talk with some of the investors and Miranda remained next to her for a few minutes, quietly watching the crowd and Jason with the kids.

“He’s good with the kids, isn’t he? He’s been good with our young players too, who all seem to have a dose of hero worship.”

Stacia smiled. “I think it surprises even him.” A thought popped in her mind, Jason with kids of his own, their kids. He would be an excellent father.

Miranda handed her glass to a waiter and turned to Stacia. “It can be difficult to have a relationship with someone you work with. You’re not always sure if they want you for yourself or the service you provide, in my case, access to the team and money.”

Stacia jerked and almost dropped her glass. Was it that transparent? Instead, she murmured a noncommittal reply and waited.

The other woman studied her thoughtfully. “In your case, I think you wonder if you’re a convenience, an excuse. It’s up to you to figure out if there is more there. Unless, of course, he’s just a jock and you want him for status. In which case I would ask that you walk away now before someone gets hurt. A reputation can survive, but a heart is more difficult to heal.” Miranda walked toward a group of investors, a greeting on her lips.

Stacia glanced at Jason again. Maybe it was time for some answers.

*

Jason excused himself
from the group of guys and crossed the room to Stacia who looked so alone, even in this crowded room. He understood the feeling, often feeling the same way himself for many years. For the first time, he felt part of the group and not just because of his numbers, name, or money. Now he felt included because they liked him, wanted him there, actually listened to him. And he had one person to thank. Music started playing, a slow dance, as he reached Stacia.

“Dance with me.”

Immediately, he cursed himself for the demand instead of request, but it didn’t seem to matter. She smiled, a small, sad smile and extended her hand. He took the wine glass out of her other hand and gave it to a passing waiter then swept her into his arms and onto the dance floor. For several long beats, they moved in perfect harmony. It felt right, perfect, with her in his arms. He lowered his head, rested it next to hers and held her close, letting the music wash over them and just enjoyed the moment.

She sighed and started to speak, but he silenced her with a brief kiss, electricity sparking between them. “Not tonight. Just go with it.”

She sighed again but didn’t speak. The song ended far too soon and he escorted her off the floor and directly to her waiting father, Senator Kendall, and his escort, a woman much younger than the senator and clearly not accustomed to the society they were in. The senator’s bushy eyebrows furrowed into one long disapproving line as he glowered at Jason and Stacia.

“Stacia. Friar.”

“Father,” she replied, making no movement to greet her father more warmly despite his proffered cheek.

His gaze darkened further, anger lurking deep in his eyes, lips tightening, almost disappearing in his face. Stacia clenched Jason’s hand in a death grip, gathering strength from him, maintaining a connection that hopefully would give her courage to deal with her father.

“You remember Jason Friar, Father?”

“Of course. From his steroids deposition in front of Congress. We’re still investigating you for perjury, Friar.”

By the gleam of anticipation in his eyes, he was expecting a blowup from Jason. It was that expectation and Stacia’s grip that settled him. He smiled, a long lazy grin. “Investigate all you want, Senator. You won’t find anything. Shouldn’t Congress be doing something more beneficial for the American people than investigating a few ballplayers for
possible
drug use? Like passing a budget, dealing with our deficit, or, heaven forbid, protecting our country?”

The senator’s eyes blazed with rage. He ignored Jason, turning his attention to what he thought would be a softer target. “I’ve spoken with Glazier. You will resume work on his campaign next week. This dalliance with
baseball
will end immediately.” His spat out the word
baseball
like it was a four letter curse and Jason growled low.

Stacia squeezed his hand, warning him to shut up. “I’ll be returning as PR manager?”