Saving Maverick (6 page)

There it was out on the table for his boss to accept or not. Maverick really had no clue why he could no longer pitch like he used to. It was frustrating and demoralizing. The harder he focused on it and the more time passed, the worse it got. Hell, he might as well quit now and get it over with.

He laid himself bare. “I knew I should have been more upfront with the trainer—and you. It's something I've known for a while.”

“What if I told you I've suspected that very thing, and that you've been covering up the real reason you lost your touch?”

Mav took a deep breath and looked T.S. directly in the eyes. “I'd say is there anything you don't know? You're like an all-knowing deity who everyone around here scrambles to do their best to impress. So yeah, it's not too hard to think you've known all along,” Maverick replied.

T.S. grabbed a baseball-imprinted stress ball emblazoned with the Outlaws logo, and tossed it to Mav.

He caught it with ease and turned it over and over in his pitching hand, staring at it like it held all the secrets to the universe. The team's logo, a bandanna-masked face, mocking him.

“
Here's another question for you. Actually two, because as I see it you're dealing with a public issue and a private one. And in regard to the first problem, I'm not giving you a choice. You will work with the consultant effective today. Later this afternoon.”

“Sure, no problem, I can handle a guy sending out press releases for me, I guess. And what's the second?” he replied.

“Would you be willing to talk to someone who can help you figure out the pitching stuff?”

“What, like a shrink? Hell, no,” Maverick said. He pushed his chair back from the solid oak desk and began pacing the room. “There's nothing wrong with my head, T.S. I know the mechanics of throwing the ball and can do it blindfolded. There's nothing in my head that's keeping me from remembering how to pitch.”

“But what if there is?” T.S. asked.

“There's not,” Maverick shot back.

“Did your brother play baseball?”

“What?”

“Connor, your younger brother, did he play ball?”

“Sure, but only through high school. He didn't have the drive to make a career out of it like I did . . . do.” Mav stopped his pacing and stood still with his hands on his hips. “What's with the questions about my brother?” Mav demanded.

“Is he the reason you're having trouble, Maverick? You know it's not so far-fetched to think that your pitching issues may have something to do with his death,” T.S. said.

Mav didn't answer. He stared at the man who could kill his dreams. He didn't talk about Connor, with anyone.

“
Look, I'm not saying you need a shrink or that there's anything wrong with your head. But it seems to me you've tried everything else. Why not go to a counseling session or two, see what it's like, and then make a decision on whether it helps you?”

“I don't want any meds, T.S. I don't need that shit clogging up my head any more than . . .”

“Than what, Maverick? The booze?”

“Hell. Okay, so I've had a couple of public explosions, but I can handle my liquor.”

T.S. made him sweat it out. He wasn't offering him any sympathy, and Maverick sure as hell didn't need it or want it. He just wanted to play ball.

“Okay, okay, I'll go to a session or two. But I'm doing this for you. So I can remain on the team. Because that's what it's really about, right? I do what this PR guy wants and see a shrink and I can continue playing.”

“That's part of it, Maverick. But if the pitching doesn't return to what it was, even I can't keep you on the DL forever. There are rules . . .”

“Yeah. Rules. I get it.” Sighing, Mav walked toward the door. He needed to get out of there and not think about the “what if” that was left hanging in the room.

“Before you go, let me give you the name and number of the team's new consultant.”

“Sure.” He walked back to take the piece of paper from T.S.'s outstretched hand. He read the name, Kelsey Sullivan.

His heart began to pound. It couldn't be.

That was the first name of the woman he wanted in his bed, the one who turned him down, the one who was speaking to T.S. at the party. And the one he wanted to ask T.S. about.

“
Wait, is this the woman from the party last night? The one I thought was your girlfriend?” God, please let this be a mistake.

“Yes, and she's the best at what she does. She's also a personal friend. We grew up together not too far from here. She's been working on a game plan for you.” T.S. looked down at his watch. “Actually you're scheduled to meet her for a late lunch.”

Maverick absorbed the news and looked over T.S.'s shoulder. He nodded his head as his gaze zeroed in on the pitching mound, the stadium, and finally on the river beyond. His reputation was now in the hands of a woman he wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to. He cursed the fates. “Is there any way we could . . .”

“Is something wrong, Maverick? Actually you look a bit green. Is it because Kelsey's a woman? Because if it is . . .”

Hell yeah, it was because she was a woman. A woman he wanted to bury himself in and make scream. “No, it's not that. It's just. Hell, it'll be fine. I need a couple of more weeks and I'll be back to my old self.” He nodded to T.S. and left the office. He was so screwed.

Chapter 6

Croissants were Kelsey's Sunday splurge. After the evening she'd had, she deserved two. When she'd left Maverick Jansen staring after her, she'd found T.S. She'd debated telling him about her encounter, but thought he'd make too much of it, so she kept quiet.

He had his driver drop her off at her condo, with the promise her car would be delivered the next morning so she didn't have to go back to his office. She spent the night dreaming about a blue-eyed knight gifting her with dazzling smiles at every turn.

All in all, she was proud of herself on how she'd handled both men and couldn't wait to share the news with her best friends. Now that she was back in town for a while they could pick up their old college ritual of croissants and coffee. If they ever got here. Lara had been through a bad breakup last year and Kelsey was worried about the amount of partying she'd been doing lately.

She loved being back in Pineville. It was a vacation destination community and made for some interesting nightlife. Tourists arrived in early June to play on neighboring Lake Coeur d'Alene, and the area's world-class golf courses in the summer and surrounding ski mountains in the winter. Today was a chilly fifty degrees and the sky promised rain.

So
far, she had the upscale pastry shop, Just Desserts, all to herself as she sipped her favorite drink, a caramel and white chocolate macchiato with whipped cream. She was biting into her croissant when Lara finally made her appearance.

A bundle of energy, Lara had her sun-bleached blond hair pulled up in a side pony, a bright pink warm-up suit and owl-eye sunglasses. Kelsey couldn't help but grin and shake her head at her bestie. Even hungover, Lara managed to pull off the chic effect.

After hugs and a few tears, they picked up like it hadn't been over a year since they'd last seen each other.

“So where was the party last night? Sully's or Club Cortana?” Kelsey asked.

“You think you know me so well, Kelsey Sullivan. I'll have you know I was home and in bed by ten p.m.,” Lara answered.

“Really? I find that odd, and yes, I do know you well. Friends like us can't hide the truth for long, Miss Sass. Now give.” Kelsey took another sip of her drink and added, “Your night had to be more fun than mine, maybe.” She placed her chin in her hand and gave Lara a pointed stare. She always won their staring contests, even when they were seven.

“Now who's fibbing, Ms. Society. I wasn't the one having cocktails with the pillars of our community and hot baseball players. Thanks for the text last night, by the way, letting me know where you were. It was the highlight of my night.”

Something was off with her friend and Kelsey was about to ask what was going on when Noel strolled in, cell glued to her ear. Where Lara was easygoing and the life of the party, Noel worked nonstop. She spent her off hours building her interior design business. No partying for her. The serious one of the three, they often had to physically drag her out to have fun.

“
Hi, sorry I'm late. But I have this new client and she's proving to be . . . a challenge.” The tallest of the three of them, her hair several shades darker than Lara's, and curves in all the right places. She also could eat whatever she wanted and not gain an ounce. Kelsey would hate her for that if she didn't love her so much.

“So, what'd I miss?” Noel asked.

Lara leaned back in her chair and answered first. “We were getting ready to debate who had the worst evening. And I'm pretty sure I'll win. “I spent it with an overserved, wanna-be golf pro who pawed me every chance he could. Until he passed out in our booth, that is.”

“He did not.” Kelsey was instantly sympathetic. “Damn, you had such high hopes for George too.”

Noel rubbed her arm. “Me too, Lara. I thought he might be a keeper.”

“Yeah, well, he was doing his best to keep his drinking problem a secret. I think something happened to tip him over the edge. He broke down on me last night and confessed some past sins better left in the vault. I don't know how you do it with your clients, Kelsey. Listening to their problems and confessions, then having to fix them. Doesn't it ever get you down?”

Kelsey looked at her “life is good” friend and took a moment before she answered. She'd had plenty of things in her life get her down, but what she did for a living wasn't one of them. An absentee father and an alcoholic mother who both hopped from one bad relationship to another had tested Kelsey's resolve, but she never let it bleed over into her work.

Kelsey knew at a young age she wasn't going to let herself end up like her mom. And she thought if she took psychology courses in college along with business classes she could fix her
mother.
Too bad it didn't work. But it taught her an important life lesson. People only changed if they really wanted it bad enough.

Funny how life worked. She ended up using her minor in psychology to help in her media consultation business. She might not be able to change a person's thoughts or behaviors but she could guide them and give them the tools to make better decisions. Her business boomed.

She went from Kelsey the fixer in grade school to Hollywood's most sought-after PR consultant. And it was in school where she and Lara and Noel first met.

One day in second grade, Kelsey came to her best friend's defense without making the bully or Lara feel bad. In the end the bully had become another lifelong member of their circle. Noel. She wasn't really a bully, just lonely and in need of friends.

“Lara, do you remember when Noel was teasing you about your shoes back in grade school?”

Lara nodded and sat forward, crossing her arms in front of her on the small table. Long over the trauma of the event, both women grinned at each other.

“That was the day I felt it,” Kelsey said.

“Felt what?”

“The rush of helping. And not the ordinary, ‘oh you dropped your package, let me get that for you' helping. No, that was the day I realized I could make a difference in how someone else thought, felt, and looked at others and themselves.”

“Hmm, come to think of it, you did seem pretty jazzed when Noel sat down at lunch with us.”

“
Yup, and even when I went home that day and told my mom what had happened, I didn't let her reaction dim my happy glow. I ignored her scolding me, that ‘no good' would come of helping someone because everyone was out for themselves, blah, blah, blah.”

“Right, didn't she ground you or something?” Noel asked.

“I'm sure she did. But you know, looking back, it's all been worth the crap she put me through. I've come to terms with how she couldn't be anyone other than who she is, even when she refused to help herself. And even though I still want to fix her to this day, I no longer feel sorry for that little girl who ended up being more mother than daughter.”

Lara leaned over and placed her hand over Kelsey's. “You've come so far, Kelsey. And now you've got a great business, and both Noel and I are so happy to have you back with us. Now, tell us what we really want to know.”

“And that would be?”

“Tell us about all the hot players you got to hang out with last night and don't leave anything out.” Finishing off her croissant, Kelsey smiled at the women who'd been in her life since childhood. Damn, it was good to be home.

Chapter 7

“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice, Mr. Jansen.” Kelsey couldn't sit still. Her nerves were getting the better of her and she crossed her legs, again. She took a moment to calm herself and admired the restaurant. Soft yellow walls with the glossy surfaces of the tables and the floor-to-ceiling windows created a fusion of old-world charm.

“I know you have an early morning pitching camp tomorrow, but we need to get on top of the firestorm you're in the middle of and I believe the first thing you should do is send out an apology on Twitter. You could do it right now actually.”

Maverick's gaze didn't miss a thing; she'd caught him staring at her legs.

“Call me Maverick. So why didn't you tell me who you were the other night at the party? Did you set it up just to test me?”

There was no anger in his voice, but his hands clenched and Kelsey noticed a slight tic underneath his right eye.

On his gorgeous face.

Keep it professional, Kelsey
, she chided herself. And she would. After all, professional was her middle name. She'd decided last night that in order to distance herself from the superstar and the man who'd triggered something new, something exciting within her, she'd address him as Mr. Jansen.