Worth the Trade (More Than A Game) (24 page)

BOOK: Worth the Trade (More Than A Game)
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“And if they don’t?”

“Then we keep what we had at the beginning of the season.” It sounded like he didn’t care for that alternative.

“Not to sound too overconfident, but you do know we’ve got a really good chance of winning.” Hunter hoped she didn’t just jinx everything.

“Yeah. I think you’re right. But I still want to make the bet.” Clayton stared straight ahead, focusing on the field. “A man needs a chance to keep his pride.”

There was something in his voice that made Hunter think he was hiding something. Maybe Annabelle had asked for a divorce. Was he trying to lose on purpose, just so he wouldn’t have to give up his share in court?

“Why don’t we just drop the whole thing?” She’d only made the bet because she wanted to prove to herself that she could put together a team better than he could. “It was just a friendly wager.”

She looked at him and saw a man who looked like he hadn’t slept in days. A man who was on the verge of losing everything.

“I need you to make the bet.” Desperation shone in his eyes. “Can we head up to the suite and talk about this. Please?”

* * * *

The last out was recorded and the ballpark went crazy. The Goliaths had won their division. The party started on the field as the bench players poured out of the dugout, surrounding their closer and jumping up and down on the mound. Marco joined in with the celebration. And the champagne began to flow even before they could get off the field.

Rachel Parker was the first to interview him.

“How does it feel to hit the game winning home run and clinch the division?” She practically had to shout her question above the noise of the crowd.

“It feels pretty good.” He tried to blink enough to keep the champagne from stinging his eyes. But it was worth it.

“And just think, two months ago, you weren’t even a Goliath.” She shrieked as someone dumped a bottle of bubbly over her head.

“A lot’s changed in those two months.” He shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He couldn’t see Hunter in the stands. He wanted to be the first to congratulate her, but it looked like she’d already headed into the clubhouse. “So much has changed. But I’m truly happy to be here. I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am to be a part of this team. The fans here—”

The stadium erupted, drowning out his words. They were going wild. He’d been embraced by the fans from the moment he stepped onto the field after the trade. He didn’t even have a uniform, and they’d welcomed him, taken him in as one of their own. He felt the love of the crowd, forty thousand of them, chanting his name.

“Marco. Marco. Marco.”

Oh yeah, he felt the love. But it was nothing compared to the love he felt for Hunter.

* * * *

“So do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Hunter followed Clayton up the elevators into the private suite. “Why are you so adamant about upping the bet?”

“I screwed up. Big time.” Clayton collapsed into a plush leather chair. “I need you to take the other twenty percent of the team, I don’t care what you do with it. Sell it to Dempsey, give it to Marco Santiago as a bonus. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Excuse me?” It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that word, but she was a little offended all the same.

“Look. I need to dump my share. And quick. But I can’t sell it. It’ll just make me look desperate. I can’t give it to Annabelle, either…community property and all that bullshit.”

“Clayton, you’re starting to scare me. What the hell is going on?”

“I’m in real trouble here. I made some bad investments and it’s coming back to bite me in the ass.” He ran his fingers through what was left of his hair.

“So why not just sell your share?” She had the cash.

“I can’t sell. I can’t…
Fuck
.” He stood up and staggered over to the bar, poured himself a stiff drink, drank it down and poured another before catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. After setting the glass down, he turned to face Hunter. “Please take the bet. Just promise me you’ll look after Annabelle and the girls.”

“Clayton, what have you done?” She had a feeling she already knew, but she wanted to hear it from him that he’d been a cheating bastard.

“Ever hear of FITNatural?”

When she only stared blankly back at him, Clayton continued.

“You will. I hope to have severed all ties with the team by then. Taking this bet will help us both.”

“What is FITNatural and what does that have to do with the team?” Hunter held her breath.

“A nutritional supplement and fitness company I’d invested in.” Clayton sunk back into the chair. “I thought they were legit. An old friend from college hit me up a few years ago. He wanted to start a fitness company, one that was different than anything else out there. He wanted to focus on eating right and conditioning. He had the best nutritionists and personal trainers all lined up. He just needed the cash to get it up and running.”

“And you invested.” Hunter sat down across from him with a knot in the pit of her stomach.

“Heavily. And they were so successful that I turned a blind eye to what made them so profitable.” Clayton shook his head wearily. “It wasn’t until Nathan Cooper’s suspension that I even had a clue.”

“Was Cooper a client of FITNatural?”

“He was.”

Shit.

“So I’ve been going back to Florida, trying to figure out how to get untangled from this mess, but it’s big. Real big. And it’s only going to get bigger.”

It took every ounce of strength she had not to throttle the man sitting in front of her. She got up and walked to the window. The ballpark was still full, but not because the game was still going. They were celebrating. A huge victory. A step in the direction of everything she’d been working for.

And it could all come crashing down. Because of Clayton Barry’s greed.

“So who else knows about this?” Surely the media would have splashed the story all over the place if it had gone public. “Who else knows about your involvement?”

“Besides your boyfriend? Just my attorney, and the Commissioner’s office.” He followed her to the balcony. “I’ve cut a deal. I’ll tell them everything I know, including players involved, in exchange for amnesty. I can’t go to jail. I can’t do that to my family.”

She wasn’t sure what shocked her more, the fact that he was going to testify or that Marco somehow knew about this.

“How is Marco involved?” She needed to know if he was taking steroids. She couldn’t believe he would risk it, but there was so much at stake.

“He’s the one who called me on it. I don’t know how he knew, but I figure it’s only a matter of time before the whole world finds out.” He sounded defeated. “Please, Hunter. Take this bet. Let me walk away with what’s left of my dignity. Let me do the right thing.”

“The right thing?” She turned and walked back inside the suite. “You wouldn’t know the right thing if it crawled into your lap.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. The only two things I’ve ever done right crawl into my lap. Or at least they used to.” He followed her. “Take the team off my hands, and look after my girls for me. I need to know they have someone like you to look up to.”

“Someone like me?” Hunter laughed. “Yeah. I’m such a role model. I gamble with my team. I sleep with my players.”

She smoothed back her hair, trying to put everything back in place.

“I can’t take your bet.” Hunter was furious. With Clayton. With herself. “Oh my God. I bet on baseball. The cardinal sin. Where was my head?”

“In Marco Santiago’s bed?” Clayton wasn’t so defeated that he couldn’t throw one last jab at her and Marco.

“I had no intention of sleeping with Marco when I made the stupid bet.” Hunter felt ill. “It was my pride, not my hormones that made me take that bet.”

“Your pride?”

“Yes. I wanted to prove to you… No I wanted to prove to myself that I could get this team to the postseason.” And she’d done that. It had been six years since they’d made it to the playoffs. Six long years in which they’d come close, sometimes only a game or two out.

“You did get them to the playoffs. And I really do think they have a good shot at going all the way.” For the first time, Clayton sounded sincere.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve screwed up. Big time. Gambling. Steroids. Sex. What more can I do to ruin my reputation with the league?”

“You could give up.” Clayton brought her a drink and she took it. “You could back down. But I don’t think you will. I mean it when I say that I want my girls to look up to you. I’ve always admired your determination. Your grit.”

“My grit? Stupidity is more like it.” She swallowed the aged whiskey. It burned, but felt pretty damn good going down. “I never should have let you push me into making the bet in the first place.”

“And sleeping with Marco Santiago. Do you regret that?” Clayton looked at her in such a way that she got chills down her spine. Like she could have had him instead.

“My personal life is private.” She couldn’t regret what she had with Marco. Even now, as she realized she couldn’t have it all. She couldn’t continue her relationship with Marco, remain president of the Goliaths, and sign him to a long term contract. “But with your involvement in FITNatural, when the scandal does break, nothing will be private anymore.”

It would all come out. Instead of focusing on Marco’s production in the playoffs, reporters would be wondering about his performance in her bedroom. There wasn’t anything prohibiting a personal relationship between an owner and an active player, but there was some language that could be interpreted as “negotiations outside the structure of organized baseball.”

“Sell to Marvin Dempsey.” Hunter finished her drink. “Work out all the details with him, but do it quickly and quietly. We still have a lot of season left, and we don’t need any more distractions than we already have.”

“You trust Dempsey?”

“Yeah. I do. He’ll do what’s right for this team.” She just hoped he was strong enough to survive getting dragged through the mud with her and Clayton.

“I’ll sell to Dempsey.” Clayton sounded truly remorseful.

“What about Annabelle?”

“She’s filed for divorce.” He hung his head.

“She thought you were cheating on her.”

“In a way I was. I was cheating in so many ways. Just not with other women. You have to believe that. You have to make her believe that.”

“Why?” Hunter knew too much about their personal lives already. “Why would you think I could convince her of that?”

“Because you’re friends. She respects you and admires you and she wishes she were more like you.”

“Please.”

“Just look out there.” Clayton pointed to the still rocking ballpark. The game had ended some time ago, yet no one wanted to leave. They were all enjoying the moment. They were winners. They were a part of something special. Something that doesn’t happen every year. This could be the year. Everyone hoped. Believed. And no one wanted to give up that feeling.

Hunter didn’t want to give up on that feeling. The team had come too far to let her mistakes ruin everything they’d worked for.

 

 

Chapter 17

 

Hunter walked into the clubhouse with the postgame celebration well underway. They had an off-day tomorrow and an afternoon flight to Phoenix, so they might as well enjoy the moment.

She gave a few congratulatory handshakes and pats on the back before finding Marco holding court in the center of the clubhouse. He was surrounded by several of his teammates, Bryce Baxter, Johnny Scottsdale, Roberto Luis, and Diego Garcia were among the players laughing and celebrating with the man who’d hit the game winning home run.

Hunter was pleased with the way the team had come together over the last few months. In some clubhouses the Latino players kept to themselves, separated by language and cultural barriers. The veterans stayed away from the rookies, and vice versa. The players who’d been brought up in the farm system felt threatened by the guys acquired through trades or free agency. But not here. They all seemed to be united with one common goal. Hunter thought Marco had something to do with the way the team had come together but maybe she was a little biased. It could just as easily have been Johnny Scottsdale who’d gotten Bryce Baxter and Roberto Luis to act like brothers instead of a couple of guys who had nothing in common except their jobs.

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