Читать книгу Betting On The Rookie - Stephanie Doyle, Stephanie Doyle - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

“IT’S RED,” EVAN SAID, looking down at the shirt in his hands.

It was two days later, and they were alone in the team manager’s office, while Sam could hear the press assembling in the small room next door.

Sam smiled. She couldn’t even say why she’d done it. Sure, red would look awesome against his tanned skin and golden brown eyes, but there were other colors that would have worked just as well. The truth was, she had wanted to tease him a little. See his reaction, which really wasn’t very professional of her, but she couldn’t help it.

“Trust me,” she said. “It will look great.”

He grumbled as he started unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing. Sam watched his fingers for a few minutes, enthralled with how they moved down his body, button by button. He was wearing a white tee underneath. There was no reason he shouldn’t have been able to change shirts in front of her, but she found herself turning around anyway. Better to avoid the show.

“So, about the interview, you know how this works, right?”

“I’m pretty sure they ask me questions, and I answer them.”

After what she imagined was enough time to take one shirt off and put another one on, Sam turned around. He was straightening the sleeve around his wrist.

“I’m going to get you back for this,” he told her, looking down at himself in self-disgust. “I hate red.”

“I’m trembling in fear,” Sam said, although she couldn’t help but wonder what his form of retribution might look like.

She handed him the tie she had picked out, and he looped it around his neck. “Now remember this next part is a little bit of a performance. I want to make sure you’re aware an audience is listening to everything you say. You have to be careful. In some respects, you want to keep a shield up between you and the audience. A layer of self-defense. You don’t want to say anything too pointed or something that might attract people’s negative opinion. However, the more candid you are, the more they will warm to you.”

“You want me to be guarded, but also candid.”

Sam beamed. “Exactly. Be yourself. Just don’t give them everything.”

“You understand what you’re saying right now makes no sense.”

“Trust me, it will make perfect sense when you watch it back on TV later.”

“Are you going to watch?”

Sam pointed to the television. She had agreed not to be in the room with him, but she’d asked Jocelyn for the TV here so she could at least watch and assess her client’s performance.

“Every step of the way. I’ll be able to give you notes after.”

“Swell. Notes on being candid.”

“You’re in a whole new ballpark now. Get it...ballpark?”

He winced. “Wow, that was bad.”

She punched his shoulder. “It was funny.”

“It was not even close to being funny.”

“I’m a funny person,” Sam insisted and then watched as he burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry, honey, but funny is not the first word that anyone would assign to you. Smart, cool, sophisticated...terrifying. Funny might be somewhere down here.” Evan held his hand to his knees.

Then Sam did something she was pretty sure she hadn’t done since she was five years old.

She pouted.

She could feel it. Her bottom lip pushed out as she crossed her arms over her chest. She would have harrumphed, but she had some pride. Girls who pouted did so to get something from men, and Sam didn’t need anything from a man. Samantha Baker didn’t pout.

Except she was pouting now. And apparently her pouting only made him laugh more.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” he said as he walked over and pried her hands away from her body so he could hold them. “You’re right. You are funny. You are being super funny right now.”

She wanted to punch his arm again. She wanted to...

The door to the room opened. It was Jocelyn, “Hey, Evan, you’re up.”

“Right. One second.”

The door closed, and he turned back to Sam. “Seriously, I wish you were in there with me.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be waiting for me.”

“Right here.”

He nodded as if that gave him some satisfaction. Then he took a deep breath.

“Good luck,” she told him. “Go kill it.”

Then he was gone, and Sam settled in to watch the show.

After twenty minutes Sam wouldn’t exactly call what he was doing killing it. More like...bombing big-time. He clearly was not someone who shone in the limelight. Which was strange given how utterly handsome he was and truly charming when he was talking to you face-to-face.

He should have been captivating.

Instead he seemed uncomfortable as he fidgeted in his chair while some female reporter from ESPN asked him what he predicted his batting average might be once he had to face off against major league pitching.

He stumbled around the answer, not really saying anything to indicate how good he planned to be. Which he’d already assured her was going to be very good. This was not a man without self-confidence.

Humility, that’s what his high school sweetheart had remembered about him, and it showed. He didn’t think he should be the one everyone was focused on, even though he was by far the best player on the team.

He’s a good guy. A genuinely good guy.

Sam would have believed her cynicism was so deeply ingrained no man would be safe from it. That she would forever believe all men were hiding parts of themselves from view until some trigger revealed their violent darker side.

Evan Tanner, however, was proving to be resistant to her cynical belief. He was charming when he wanted to be, funny when he wanted to be. Yet when he’d believed the worst about her, he wasn’t afraid to let her know that, either.

Through all their interactions she sensed a solidness about him. A forthrightness that was there for everyone to see. She couldn’t imagine he had anything to hide. Certainly not a dark side.

He was the hero. Not the villain.

“Uh...no... I’m not involved with anyone.”

Another female reporter was asking about his social life. Yes, that was something he clearly didn’t want to talk about. Was he blushing?

Sam smiled. They would have to work on drafting some practiced answers to those kinds of questions. If he did what everyone was projecting and became a superstar, then he would need to be more relaxed with a camera in his face.

The smoother he was during interviews, the more chance he’d have to pick up sponsors. More sponsors meant more money. And that was the game Sam needed to play if she was going to show everyone she was back on top. An agent any athlete would want to have.

“You are currently being represented by Samantha Baker...” one reporter began.

Here it was. Sam tensed, and, as she watched, so did Evan. It was clear that he wanted to say something, in some way to stand up for her. It’s who he was. He was built to be a knight.

But she’d told him when he agreed to do this, it was necessary to stick to the script.

“Yes, as many of you may know, Scout Baker was working for the Rebel organization as a scout when she found me coaching a high school baseball team. She invited me to a tryout camp, and, well, my life really hasn’t been the same since.”

Sam nodded. That sounded sincere. Real. Most likely because it was.

“Anyway I owe the Baker family a tremendous debt, and I’m confident that Samantha will do right by me.”

There. It made perfect sense. A man could overlook scandal out of loyalty to the family. Sam hated that she had to set the narrative that way, that he had taken pity on her, but at least he would be perceived as squeaky clean despite her past.

“Are you at all worried about her questionable character and her collusion with her client to cover up an assault?”

Sam gritted her teeth. She had hoped for no follow-up, but this part was still scripted just in case. All he had to say was: I’m not here to talk about my agent’s past. I’m here to talk about my future in baseball.

A perfect line that would pivot everyone back to the game and him and away from her.

“She didn’t collude with her client on anything. She was lied to by a man she trusted to tell her the truth. And what really cranks my gear is that somehow it’s like she’s to blame for what that asshole did. This guy is a violent scumbag who hit his fiancée, tried to cover it up and then lied about it. Why is my agent to blame for that? I’m perfectly happy with Samantha Baker as my agent, and, no, I have no concerns about her character at all. Now, if we’re done here?”

Evan stood so quickly he almost toppled over his chair. A few reporters were still firing questions at him, obviously wanting to feed on the sound bite he had given them.

Sam closed her eyes and sighed. He was going to make the ESPN highlights tonight by calling Richard Stanson a violent scumbag asshole.

At least it hadn’t been douche bag. He’d at least taken her advice and avoided that one.

The door to the office where she was waiting flew open and then slammed shut behind her. Evan was already loosening his tie as he mumbled under his breath about more assholes.

“I’m not here to talk about my agent’s past. I’m here to talk about my future in baseball,” Sam said. “It’s a great line. You know how I know? I wrote it for you.”

He glared as if he were about to snap at her, too, then she could see he just released his anger in a woosh of breath. As if simply by looking at him, she had soothed the savage beast. She had originally thought he was a white-knight hero, but he wasn’t without a little temper, either.

“It’s not right. Calling out your character like that. And sorry, but I’m not going to stand for it. You’ve got to deal with that. Okay? You’re my agent now. I get to say what I want about you when I want to. Got it?”

At his intensity, Sam felt a swirl of something in her chest. Like she was being looked after and cared for and protected. It wasn’t an uncommon feeling.

Of course she’d always had Duff.

Then there had been Bob, her mother’s husband and Sam’s biological father. Something Bob hadn’t known for eighteen years of Sam’s life because he’d been stupid by dumping Sam’s mother when he thought he was doing the right thing by her. Bob had wanted to fight her battles, too, like any other father would, but Sam was an adult when she met him. She’d been able to take care of herself, even at eighteen.

Yes, Duff and Bob were two men with flaws. But they were also two men who’d had her back.

Now Evan stood in front of her, and with him, she had that same feeling. Like no matter what, he would guard over her, snarling at anyone who dared to take a swipe at her, no matter how many times she told him she could save herself. Hadn’t he called her terrifying?

Terrifying people took care of themselves.

She opened her mouth to tell him one more time he didn’t have to save her. That she wasn’t that kind of woman who needed rescuing.

Instead she nodded. “Got it.”

He was looking at her warily, like he was waiting for more of a fight, but the truth was there was no point in arguing. She wasn’t going to change his mind, and she wasn’t going lie to herself and say there hadn’t been some satisfaction in watching someone else defend her. Someone else besides her say she wasn’t a liar.

“I’m going to be on Sports Center tonight, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Sam agreed. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. A little buzz never hurt anyone. And since you don’t have a Twitter account, you’re not going to know what all the horrible Richard Stanson fans are going to Tweet about you for calling out their boy.”

“The fact that he still has fans... I mean, seriously, how do people reconcile that? How can you root for someone who you know has no respect for women?”

Sam frowned. “Because he wins. Don’t get me wrong—we’ll call him out for it, we’ll talk about him for a couple of weeks, we’ll even discuss domestic abuse and ways to help end it. But at the end of the day, people don’t really care about their sports heroes’ lives. They care about their own lives, and when their team wins, they feel good. That’s all that counts.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

Sam walked over to him and brushed a little lint off his shoulder. “I told you before. Welcome to the Bigs, my friend.”

They looked at each other, and Sam could feel a shift in the dynamic. She was standing too close. She had made an excuse to touch him. Had there been any lint really, or had she just wanted to get closer to him? So she could be near the man who wanted to rush to her defense.

The man who had made her pout.

He was looking at her now not as his agent but as a woman, and she could feel the answer to that look all the way to her toes.

Yes.

No.

She tried to be casual about how she removed her hand from his shoulder, but before she could fully escape, he’d circled his fingers around her wrist, trapping her.

“Are we going to talk about this?” he asked, his voice low and slightly gruff.

“Talk about what?”

Sam almost wanted to smile at how well she had pulled off that line. She was cool, casual and sounded completely unaware of anything he might be talking about.

“I want you.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. Who did that? Who just said the thing they were thinking despite the consequences?

“I get it. I know it’s messed up. You’re my agent and I want it to stay that way, but maybe it would be better, easier, if we talked about the elephant. Because I’m pretty sure this goes both ways.”

Sam managed a weak huff. “That’s awfully arrogant of you.”

Evan shook his head slowly. “Not really. You’re trembling, and where my thumb is hitting your pulse point I can feel your heart racing.”

Sam jerked her hand away, and Evan let her go.

“We need a plan. A way we’re going to deal with it.”

“I had a plan,” Sam said. “I was going to ignore it. You were supposed to do the same. It’s how adults deal with things they don’t want to deal with.”

“That seems silly, doesn’t it?”

He was smiling, which made him look incredibly endearing. She wanted to slap his face. Maybe that would cure him of his desire. “Look, Evan, what did you think I was going to say?”

“I want you, too.”

Like that was going to happen. Like she would just put herself out there and see how he reacted. Raw and vulnerable.

“I meant, what did you think talking about this openly would accomplish?”

He shrugged. Then sighed. “Honestly I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t want to lose you as an agent.”

“Then you must know we can’t possibly have any romantic entanglement. Ours is a business relationship.”

“Entanglement? You make that sound like a game of Twister. I’m not talking about just an entanglement. Yes, I get our business relationship makes things more complicated. And, yes, it makes sense to walk away from any kind of personal relationship.”

Sam felt physically relieved. He understood. That was good. That would prevent him from making any more ridiculous comments.

“But it doesn’t change the fact we still want each other.”

Comments like that.

“Evan.” Sam sighed. What in the hell was she supposed to do with a man like this? One who was just so out there with himself. Wasn’t he worried he was going to get hurt? Because it’s what she would most likely do. To protect herself she would lash out like a cat that has encountered an overfriendly dog who wants to play. A few swipes and the dog would walk away whimpering.

“Okay, look, I can see it makes you uncomfortable to talk about it. I’ll drop it for now.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling for the first time since he’d started speaking she could take a deep breath.

“Here’s the thing, though, Sam. I’ve learned a lot in the last few years since I first met you. I’ve learned you don’t get anything in this world you truly want without taking some risks. While our situation might not be ideal, don’t think it means I’m not going to try for it. For you. Because now I know what it means to take that risk and win. I’m not afraid.”

He moved around her, and Sam turned to watch as he opened the door to the office and left. Happy that she’d been able to keep her mouth closed. Because what she had really wanted to say was...don’t go.

Which of course was ridiculous. They were having dinner that night with Jocelyn Taft Wright and her husband, Pete. A thank-you from Jocelyn for Evan having agreed to the interview.

Today was Evan’s off day, and really it was generous of him to give up his free time to do the press conference in the first place.

Sam took a few deep, calming breaths. All things considered, nothing too terrible had happened. Evan had confessed to wanting her, but she hadn’t really done the same.

She hadn’t been able to work up the steeliness to actually lie to him, so it was better she say nothing. Now she knew she would have to work much harder to keep a personal distance between them.

What made that so hard was that beyond wanting him, she actually just really liked him. She had an idea that maybe leaving Minotaur Falls was the smart choice. Distance would surely help the situation. Only it felt a little like cowardice, not to mention humiliating.

Hey, Evan, I want you so much I can’t be in the same town as you for fear I’ll give in and jump your bones.

No. Leaving was not an option.

“You’ll get over it,” she told the empty room.

* * *

KELLY LAWSON WATCHED from her car as the elegant blonde left the stadium and headed to her Mercedes. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the cool, sleek business suit, slim high heels and sophisticated haircut. All things she had wanted for herself, but nothing she could ever afford.

Not that she regretted for a second where all her hard-earned money had to go.

“Mom, I don’t huh-understand why we’re here if there’s no game today. I huh-thought we were going to see a baseball game.”

Kelly looked at her son, and her love for him overwhelmed her. He took a hit of his inhaler, and she schooled herself not to wince. The humidity at this time of year wasn’t bad in upstate New York, but really they should be in the least humid environment she could find for him. Anything to make his breathing easier.

She reached over to ruffle his hair. “We are, Connor. Soon, I promise. I just wanted...”

I wanted to see him first.

“I wanted to make sure I had the right directions first. This is like a dry run.”

She hadn’t been prepared for the punch in her gut when he came out of the stadium. It had been so long since she had seen him, and now...now she was committed to doing this thing.

For Connor. For Connor she would do anything.