“Hey, do me a solid and grab a water bottle out of the mini-fridge, would yah?”
Damn. Maverick never considered someone would film him at Kelley’s Pub. It was, or had been, a safe haven for the team. The patrons left them alone when they were there to blow off steam.
“So, don’t you think you need to call your agent and see what you should do?” Luke tossed him the water bottle.
“I would, if I hadn’t fired his ass last week.” Mav took a swig of water, but what his body really craved was the only sure thing that would cut through the fog of the morning after coffee—strong and sweet.
“What is with you? You need someone to handle this crap. You can’t do it all on your own and work on rehabbing your arm.” Luke hadn’t sat back down, and it hurt his head to continue looking up at his friend’s six-one frame.
“Sit your ass down.” Rubbing his neck, Mav stared at the water bottle again, wishing it were a cup of coffee. “Yeah, well, he was skimming, Luke. I shouldn’t have trusted him to handle my accounting, too. So no, I don’t need some slick ‘yes man’ pretending he cares about me and my career just so he can get his hands on my endorsement money.”
Mav tried to ignore what looked like pity on Luke’s face. “Listen, don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve had enough of that from everyone since the accident. Besides, it was effing satisfying when Jerry realized he wasn’t dealing with some rookie ballplayer who doesn’t know a capital expenditure from depreciation. I guess the business degree I earned to please my father paid off after all.”
“Okay, so now you have no one to call, other than TS.” Luke pointed out. “And man, our new owner is not going to be happy with you. Bad timing, Mav, ’cause I know you want to get off the disabled list by the beginning of the season.”
Mav stared at his buddy. Yeah, for starters, getting off the disabled list would go a long way in putting his career and his life back in order. And not letting Luke down was a close second. Baseball had brought them together; pitcher and catcher in the beginning, then friends. He needed to man up and act like this situation was fixable. No big deal.
“So, what’s your first move?” Luke asked.
“I could be wrong here, but I think this will blow over in a day or two. No, hear me out. There’ve been plenty of players complaining about the move to Pineville. My comments just happened to have been recorded when I wasn’t aware.”
“You mean drunk.” Luke smirked.
“Not drunk, dammit. Sure, I had a few, but I was far from drunk.”
Mav stood up and paced the room. Who could he reach out to for help when everyone he trusted was either dead or had given up trying to get him out of the hell he’d placed himself in?
Luke moved out of his way. “Okay, maybe not shit-faced drunk, but you’d had a few. How will you handle the fact that you had a half-naked woman on your lap while you were railing against the commissioner and our joke of an ex-owner for selling the team?”
Another valid question he didn’t have an answer for. “Yeah, that’s something I’m going to have to work on. But first I need to get some decent coffee and a hot shower. What time is it anyway?” he asked.
Mav’s entire body ached. He’d need more than a couple of aspirin to shake the hangover this time. Stopping in front of the sliding glass doors, he watched as heavy raindrops pounded the lake. The storm that the local forecaster promised had arrived.
“Four-thirty.” Luke answered.
“In the afternoon?” Mav turned away from the view he’d grown to enjoy since he’d been in Pineville, knowing he wouldn’t find any answers today among the whitecaps.
“Yeah, in the afternoon. The party’s in less than an hour.”
“Shit.”
He’d forgotten about the event their new owner had set up to introduce the star players to the city’s movers and shakers. The one bright spot of the evening would be meeting the directors of the Children’s Club. The Outlaws had chosen the organization to work with as part of their community outreach.
“Jeez, Mav. You really need a keeper. Plus, you have to come up with an explanation for TS, the USBL . . . oh and let’s not forget the tens of thousands of local community members who’ll be buying tickets.”
“Fuck me.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Luke grinned.
“You’re a real comedian, Luke, but right now you’re the only one still speaking to me, so help me out and call room service for some decent coffee while I shower and try to come up with a plan. Otherwise, we both might be out of a job by tomorrow.”
“Wait. What? Why would I be out of a job?” Luke asked. His Oklahoma drawl held a hint of panic.
“Because, cowboy, your mug is in the background of that video, and you’re grinning like a fool.”
Chapter 2
Kelsey Sullivan waited in the executive reception area of the newly finished Idaho Outlaws stadium. Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, she drank in the dramatic view of the choppy surface of the Kokanee River directly behind the newly built facility in Pineville.
It was late January, and the sky was full of dark clouds ready to burst. She thought about the man whose viral tirade had brought her back to her hometown. She’d bet her last dollar that he was also ready to burst right about now. And if he wasn’t, even she might not be able to fix the mess he’d created.
Shifting her thoughts to the team owner, Thomas Scott, TS, as he was known to family and friends, didn’t do things halfway. He’d spent hundreds of millions to bring his boyhood dream to reality. Some of that money had gone to taking a chance on the once star pitcher for the renamed Idaho Outlaws. . . a star who had been ignoring all offers of help since his car accident.
She had formed an unlikely but close bond with TS in junior high. He was the lonely rich boy, Kelsey the girl from the wrong side of the tracks and somehow, they found what had been missing in their lives in each other, acceptance and a lifelong friendship.
And because of that bond, she'd hopped a plane from L.A. in less than two hours after his call this morning.
From behind, she heard TS’s secretary answer yet another phone call. This time instead of the “No he’s unavailable,” reply Kelsey had heard at least a dozen times in the last half hour, she heard, “Yes, she’s still here.”
As she turned to speak with his secretary, the massive mahogany door opened and out strode the uber-successful, uber-rich and sometimes uber-obnoxious Thomas Scott. Good thing she loved him because she was ready to rip him a new one for keeping her waiting. He knew how she hated to be kept waiting.
Tall and imposing at six three, he towered over her petite frame and most everyone who dared to go up against him. Before she could take two steps, she was enveloped in an enormous bear hug.
Laughing, Kelsey pinched his side then exclaimed, “TS, I can’t breathe.”
Rocking back on his heels, he gave her a wide smile, followed by a squinty once-over. There it was. The lethal look she remembered so well. “Yup, you’re still gorgeous. Anyone I need to keep in line for you? A new boyfriend? Some guy who isn’t treating you like the princess you are?” That was TS in a nutshell. He always looked out for her even if they hadn’t seen each other in ages.