Saving Maverick (11 page)

It would just be a matter of time now before he was called into the manager's office. The only unknown was how he'd feel once they cut him loose. Would he feel relief and gratitude for the opportunity, for the years he did play? Or terror at becoming a washed-up pro athlete who was forced to leave the game he loved, not on a high note but on the bottom.

He tried to push all the chatter out of his head and continued walking down the hallway to see one of the trainers and ask for the ice he told Ace he needed. After he was done here, he had an appointment with the shrink, Dr. Caris Sloane. Maybe she'd have some answers for him.

Maverick arrived at the professional building that housed the doctor's office and shut off his truck. He sat in the parking lot and stared out toward the sun-drenched city park. It seemed most of the downtown office buildings hugged the park and the neighboring resort.

On the west side of a majestic hotel sat Independence Point, where the sun worshippers would be out in full force in a matter of months.

He glanced down at his dashboard and checked the time. Five more minutes of procrastination and he would need to get himself in gear and enter the office of the one person who might be able to figure out what was keeping him from pitching at major league level.

Right now he'd be lucky to play for a High-A ball club. Pretending was becoming more work than he could handle. And now he had the media on his back. Every day new headlines asked if he still had it in him, was team owner Thomas Scott wasting his money on a player who couldn't control his temper off the field and pitch worth a damn on?

Mav
wanted to get back in the game and pitch like the Cy Young winner he was. He knew it was still in him to perform at the highest level. If talking to Dr. Sloane helped him trigger it, he no longer cared what it would look like to his fans or his teammates.

He was all in. He knew he needed to get his priorities back on track and get the damn monkey off his back so he would be the Outlaws' starting pitcher come opening day.

At least his libido had kicked back into existence. He'd found a woman who made him itch like a teenager every time he was near her. Never had he wanted to impress a woman as he did Kelsey. Getting her into his bed at the next opportunity was his new number one priority.

Lost in thought, he ignored the text tone on his smartphone. The second time it dinged, he glanced down at the passenger seat where he'd placed it, and opened up the message app.

I saw you with her yesterday. She's not good enough for you. I am
.

What the fuck? His mind raced to Kelsey's face flushed with desire as his hands had roamed over her delectable body. Damn, someone had recognized him. Them.

He wanted to respond and find out what kind of creep would mess with him. Whoever it was, he'd tear them a new asshole.

Mav took a few deep breaths and he reread the text. He realized what he really needed to do was call Kelsey and let her know.

He looked at the time again and swore. The last thing he needed was something else splashed all over the rag-mags and the Internet.

Maybe if he ignored it, the person would go away? He brought it up again and looked at the number. He didn't know every area code out here, so it could have been a local number or even an international phone. Pineville was a couple of hours away from Canada. It could have been a burner phone for all he knew.

He
banged his head on the seat rest a few times and turned the air inside the cab blue. He gave himself another minute to vent before he gripped the steering wheel and took one more deep breath. Kelsey would know how to handle this, but he didn't want the ugly text to get in the way of convincing her she belonged in his bed. He'd call her after he was done getting his head examined.

The secretary looked up from her computer as Maverick stepped into the hushed atmosphere of Dr. Sloane's office on Front Street.

“Hello. How can I help you?” she asked.

Not the reaction he typically received from women. Especially young, attractive ones. He'd braced himself for a giggle or an “Oh, my God it's you! Can I have your autograph?” But nothing like that.

Mav closed the door with the doc's name emblazoned in gold on the frosted glass and walked up to the reception desk. He offered a tight smile to the doctor's secretary. “Um, yeah I have an appointment with Dr. Sloane at three thirty. My name's Maverick.”

She looked back at her computer screen and squinted. “I don't see your name. Let me see if it's supposed to be on a different day.” Her long nails clicked on the keyboard. “No, I'm sorry. I don't see any appointments with the first or last name of Maverick. If you need to see someone right away I'm sure Dr. Sloane could recommend one of her colleagues.”

Incredible. In all the years he played, he'd never not been recognized.

The
doctor appeared through a door behind the secretary's desk. Petite, blond, and stacked, the doctor smiled at him. “Amber, it's okay. He has an appointment. You'll see him listed under Randall Jansen.”

Well, at least the doctor recognized him, Maverick thought.

“Mr. Jansen, my secretary has a few forms we need you to fill out before our session, and then we can get started.” Caris Sloane was a knockout, but she was no Kelsey and he could thankfully be in the same room with her and not think how to get her out of her short polyester-looking business suit. He grinned at his own ridiculous thought.

“Nice to meet you, Doc. You can call me Maverick.”

“And you can call me Dr. Sloane, and once we've had a session or two and I decide you're ready, you may call me Caris.”

She was a pistol and the doc ah, Dr. Sloane, wasn't a pushover or succumbed easily to his charms. All the better. The last thing he needed was a sticky situation with Kelsey's college pal.

“As soon as you have the forms filled out, let Amber know and she'll show you in.” Caris gave him a thin smile and turned back into her office. The door closed with a sharp click. Put neatly in his place, Maverick took the clipboard offered by Amber and took a seat next to a faux fireplace on the smallest couch he'd ever sat upon.

Everything in the outer office screamed “Relax,” from the tinkling water feature to the light classical music piped in from ceiling speakers. However, after the irritating text and the awkward encounter with the secretary, he was anything but.

Christ, his hands were sweating. He'd had a similar reaction when he'd been called into the vice-principal's office for goofing off in science class while Mr. Lyons droned on about pig
parts.
That was in seventh grade, over fifteen years ago, and the memory still had a visceral effect on him. Poor pigs, they didn't ask to be a part of a stupid science class.

He finished his paperwork in record time and soon found himself in a slightly bigger chair than the couch. Dr. Sloane gave him a quick once-over before she began. Well, at least he knew now she wasn't as immune to him as he'd thought. Might make this easier. He could have a quick conversation and be on his way to see Kelsey.

“So, Mr. Jansen, can you tell me why you agreed to see me?” She got right to the heart of the matter.

“I need to save my job and made an agreement with the team owner to see you. I told him I would give therapy a try. Didn't seem too big a deal. So here I am.” His killer smile faded as he noticed the narrowing of her eyes. “By the way, call me Maverick.”

“Thank you. And while I think that's not a bad reason to be here, I think you're a pretty smart guy. I've seen you play. At the beginning of the season you were on fire. Then the championships arrived and something happened. Do you have any thoughts on why?” Her voice calmed him. He began to relax for the first time in months.

He rolled his shoulders to release tension he didn't know he was carrying. “Why?” he mimicked. “Yeah, I know why. My arm was injured in an accident and I didn't have enough rehab time.”

“Since we're on a shortened time line here, I'd like to propose we get right to it. I typically like my patients to get to know me and I them before we dive into the heavy stuff, but well, I don't think you have that kind of time—Maverick.”

She leaned back in her chair and leveled him with a penetrating stare. All of a sudden he felt more exposed than when he'd appeared in his last Under Armour commercial.

“
I'm here to help. To listen and hopefully offer a different perspective on how you think, react to life, and your job. I can't ‘fix' you. Only you can do that. I'm a pathway, if you will, to the end of your journey. One where I hope you find answers. In return, you just might end up where you want to be. Back in the game, on the pitching mound, throwing strikes.”

Damn. Maverick gripped the ends of the armrests and sat up a bit straighter. He had a moment where he thought he could BS his way through this session, but she proved she expected him to work for the prize.

He needed to take this opportunity for what it was and find out what the hell was really going on in his head and keeping him from throwing a cut ball. “I'll be an open book, Dr. Sloane. I know my days are numbered in the USBL and I want nothing more than another chance at a championship. You have my promise to work with you and find that new perspective you talked about.”

“Glad to hear it, now maybe we could start with your brother,” Caris said.

For the next hour they talked about every detail of the events that led to the accident that killed Connor and the aftermath. How he still woke up in a cold sweat screaming his brother's name and how his parents continued to blame him, if not for actually taking Connor's life, but being the one responsible for their youngest child's death.

Maverick didn't realize he had zoned out until he heard the doctor softly calling his name. “Maverick. Maverick, I think we had a good start here today. I'd like you to go home and think about what brings you joy, besides baseball, that is.”

He blinked several times to bring himself back to the moment and looked at Dr. Sloane. “Joy?” he asked.

“
Yes. Something totally unrelated to the game, another hobby perhaps, or another physical activity or even getting lost in a good book.”

Hell, she was serious. He thought a moment and pictured the woman he held in his arms yesterday. Kelsey. Yeah, she definitely brought him some joy.

Maybe he should use this opportunity with the doc to find out a little more info on Kelsey. They were in college together, so maybe Caris had some insight on what made the cool-as-ice-media-consultant-and-sultry-sex-kitten tick.

“Okay, I thought of something or rather, someone.” He sat there for a moment thinking how to phrase his request.

“That was quick. I meant take a day or two to think about it.” An edge had seeped into her tone that warned not to mess around.

“I want to know what Kelsey Sullivan was like in college,” Maverick asked.

Caris leaned forward and grinned. “And why would you need to know about Kelsey? Isn't she working for you?”

“No, technically she works for the team, its owner T.S., to be exact. I'm looking for some insight on her and well, I guess since you're my doctor I can tell you, confidentially of course, that I plan on wooing her.” He couldn't say take her to bed and make love to her until she screamed his name, so “wooing” worked. “She told me you two were in college together and I thought you might be able to help me.”

The good doctor stood and motioned for him to do the same. He stood and waited while she took her time deciding if she would answer his question. He crossed his fingers behind his back.

“
I think that's all for today, Maverick. Please check with Amber and make sure your next appointment is all set up. I told Kelsey I'd make myself available around your schedule.”

“Sounds good. How about my request. You think you could help me out?”

“I'll think about it. But something tells me, Maverick, you don't need my help getting a woman to like you or do anything else with you.”

“You'd be surprised, Doc. She's a tough cookie, but I plan on showing her I'm not just some dumb jock who needs her to hold his hand in the public eye.”

“Oh, I know how tough Kelsey can be, and there are reasons why she is probably giving you the cold shoulder. But I'm not going to betray her trust. And I'm here for you right now. So my suggestion? Tread lightly with her. She and I haven't spoken in years, but I can assure you, I have her back.”

“Looks like Kelsey's not the only tough cookie I've met recently.” He smiled and walked out of the no-nonsense doctor's office. He was rather proud of himself for his strategy. He'd bet Caris would be calling Kelsey as soon as he left, asking her what's what. Good. He needed Kelsey to know how serious he was about her.

Chapter 13

“You've got to be kidding me, Mav. What idiot would send you a text that could be easily traced?” Luke was in the gym of their building, using the free weights. Mav knew he was concerned about maintaining his throwing shoulder in the off-season, but it looked to him as if his catcher was putting on too much muscle.

He looked Maverick straight in the eye and asked, “What are you going to do? Ignore it and hope it goes away?”

“That was my first thought, well, actually my second after I said a few choice phrases my grandma would take her switch to me for, but then I calmed down,” Maverick said.

“Mav, I swear, lately if you didn't have bad luck you wouldn't have any luck at all. Sounds like you should be talking to that pretty PR lady instead of me though. By the way, any luck with her? I've never seen you so tied up in knots over a chick.”

“She's not a chick. You had it right the first time, she's a lady. Besides she's not answering. I've left her a couple of voicemails,” Maverick interrupted.