Betting On The Rookie

“You’re going to think about what I said.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“I mean, it’s time, son, we’re talking about the big leagues.”

“I know, Dad,” Evan said, trying to be as patient as he could. After all, his father couldn’t help it, he was just excited for him. The reality was that this next climb into the majors was going to happen...it was just a question of when.

“I worry about you getting taken advantage of because you’re not the prototypical baseball player.”

Evan understood that. There was no doubt the Rebels would lowball any contract they offered him, given his significant age. At least his baseball age.

No, Evan knew an agent was necessary. The hard part was going to be finding the right one. Someone he could trust. Whose first concern was what Evan wanted, not how much money was in it for the agent.

“I promise. I will start looking. Hey, I’m here now. I want to drop my stuff off in my locker and get set up before the game tomorrow.”

“Play sharp.”

Evan smiled. That’s what his dad always told him. Not play well or hard, play sharp. It was his dad’s way of saying to use all his abilities. Not just his physical ones but his mental ones, as well.

“Got it.”

“Oh, and one last thing... I wasn’t going to mention it, but it seemed odd...and I guess I thought you should know. Kelly called me.”

It took a second for the name to register. “Kelly? My ex-girlfriend, Kelly?”

“Yep. She said she was wondering how you were doing and decided to call to catch up. Mine was the last number she had for you. She wanted to know why you weren’t on Facebook.”

Evan grimaced. Because he hated the idea of social media. Because of things just like this. Kelly was part of his past. A long-ago past. There was no reason they needed to be internet friends. He hoped she was doing well but felt no need to catch up with her.

“Anyway, I wasn’t sure I should tell you. The timing...well...let’s just say it’s suspicious.”

Evan understood his father’s concern. It had been Evan’s decision after college not to try and make an attempt at a pro football career. That had ultimately ended the relationship between him and Kelly. She seemed so convinced he would be drafted despite his size and that, by not at least trying, he was walking away from a future that would be radically different than that of a schoolteacher.

Kelly hadn’t wanted to be the wife of a schoolteacher.

Evan would never forget her saying those exact words to him. They deserved better, she had said. It had devastated him and destroyed them as couple. Only months before, he’d actually been thinking about proposing.

Although he couldn’t imagine there would be any way she might know what was happening with him now. They weren’t from the same hometown, having met in college. She was from Florida originally, if he recalled. As far as Evan was aware, none of their mutual college friends knew that he was now playing baseball. Certainly no one knew he was as close to the majors as he was.

Because he wasn’t out there on the internet talking about himself every day.

“It was probably just a coincidence. Don’t worry about it, Dad.”

“I’m not worried. You’ve got too good a head on your shoulders to get distracted by Kelly, of all people. You know, I never liked her.”

“Yes, Dad. I remember.”

“Okay, son...well... I’ll see you soon. You’ll call me the minute you get called up, and no matter where you’re playing I’ll be there.”

His dad, now retired, had spent the last year following Evan around the country to various different minor league ball clubs. Including all the way to Puerto Rico when Evan had played fall ball last year.

Evan had always encouraged his dad, a widower for over ten years now, to find a hobby other than his son. His father had never listened.

Now there was a very real chance before the season was over that his father would be watching Evan at his major league debut game. Evan felt goose bumps at the mere idea of it.

Stay cool. You’re not quite there yet.

“Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too, son.”

The call ended, and Evan sat in the truck for a moment to appreciate this time and this moment. The stadium where he had tried out loomed in front of him. The bull situated over the entrance seemed like a fierce thing under the new summer sun. He’d made it to Triple A, one step away from The Show. The irony that he was back here where it all started wasn’t lost on him, either. Karma, it seemed, had a sense of humor.

Scout Baker, a New England Rebel scout at the time, had seen something in the swing of a high school baseball coach. Her belief in him had cost her her job. But her belief in him was what had told him he should continue trying. So he had.

Now he was one step away from fulfilling a dream of being a professional athlete. Something he thought he’d left behind after college.

Evan got out of the truck and grabbed his equipment bag from the cab in back. It was an off day, so the lot was barely filled. Probably mostly with just the support staff who ran the park and the general manager.

Maybe that’s why the ice-blue Mercedes caught his attention. Or more likely the woman leaning against it.

Sleek body, long heels, blond hair that just hit her chin. And even though he couldn’t see them from this distance, the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

He would have known her anywhere. He wondered if she might look at him and guess that she had starred in several of his fantasies over these past months. If it would somehow be written on his face that he had dreamt about taking her every way a man could have a woman.

“Samantha Baker,” he called.

He could see that startled her a little. They’d only shared a few casual conversations not quite two years ago. Maybe he should have forgotten her.

He hadn’t. Not even a little bit.

She straightened and came walking toward him. He could hear the distinctive click of her no-doubt very expensive heels hitting the pavement. A woman on a mission.

“Evan Tanner,” she said, holding her hand out. “It’s good to see you again.”

He nodded and then slowly took her hand. It was small in his, and he held it for a second too long.

“What brings you here?” he asked, even though he had a pretty good idea.

“You,” she said succinctly. “I took a chance you might want to come down to the stadium before your start tomorrow, so I’ve been camping out here.”

“That’s some serious dedication.”

She flashed a smile. “A long time ago I told you that if you moved through the ranks, I could offer my services. Here you are on the cusp of stardom with a contract that’s expiring. So here I am.”

“You said you could or could not offer your services. You claimed you were very exclusive,” Evan reminded her.

“I am,” she said, raising her chin. “I’ve done a pretty thorough background check on you. You’re the kind of client I’m looking for.”

It was a shame, Evan thought. A real shame that someone who looked like her could be so completely disgusting on the inside.

What made it worse was that even though he knew what she was, standing here in the hot summer sun of a baseball parking lot, she still looked so cool and sophisticated he wanted to take her on the hood of her fancy car. Pull her blouse out of her pants and push his hands through her hair. Kiss her, until her lips were red and swollen.

“Sorry, Samantha. I’m not sure what kind of client you’re looking for. But I know what I’m not. That’s someone who would ever hit a woman or cover up for someone who did. So, no, I don’t think I’m your type.”

He watched her body jerk at the verbal assault. Then he watched as she quickly hid behind a mask of indifference. As crazy as it was, it made him think that this was how she might react if he had physically hit her. Which made him feel less sanctimonious and more like an ass.

“Hey, listen, I’m sorry. It’s just...”

“No, I understand,” she said quickly. “You don’t believe I didn’t know about the cover-up. Most people don’t. The clients I take on will have to believe me. Just like I will have to believe in them. Sorry to have wasted your time.”

She turned and quickly walked away, and with each step Evan felt a twinge of regret. Maybe he should have at least asked to hear her side of things. Hell, he owed that much to her sister, Scout, if nothing else.

He was about to open his mouth and call out to her, when she turned around in an elegant move and started walking backward. A feat he admired in such high heels.

“Oh, and Mr. Tanner...good luck dealing with the Rebels. I understand Reuben is a remarkably fair man to work with and will assuredly want to compensate you accordingly.”

She smiled, and it was the smile of a wolf.

“Your loss.”

She gave him a jaunty salute and then did the pirouette thing again and was once more walking away.

His loss.

His loss, indeed.

CHAPTER TWO

“I’LL HAVE THE contracts drawn up, and you won’t regret it. We’re going to do amazing things together, Evan.”

Evan listened to the pitch of the agent on the phone and inwardly groaned. They were all the same. Speaking to him as if Evan had agreed to anything. It seemed to be a thing with agents. As if they could talk over until you simply cowed to their wishes.

Cowing wasn’t Evan’s style.

“I told you before, Donald, I’m not doing this over the phone. You want to sign me, you’re going to have to come out here and meet me. I’m not trying to play prima donna here. I just want to sit down across from you and get to know you a little. I would come to you, but I’m in the middle of the season, as you know.”

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line. Clearly the man wasn’t happy, but Evan wasn’t budging. Signing with an agent was a big step in his career, and he wanted to make sure he made the right call. The only way to do that was to get a sense of the man face-to-face.

Or person. If he decided to go with a woman. So far, only one had made an offer, and he’d flat-out turned her down. What bothered him was that he’d been regretting that decision ever since. On many different levels.

“Let me see what I can do with my schedule. I’ll be in touch.”

Don ended the call quickly before Evan could reply. He wished he could’ve told the man not to bother. Evan wasn’t feeling it. He tossed the phone on the coffee table in front of him and stretched out on the couch. He had another hour before he needed to be at the ballpark, and he planned on relaxing until then.

As the old man on the team at twenty-nine, he figured he needed to give his body every chance to rest he could. Spending some time listening to agents give him their pitch wasn’t physically taxing, but it was starting to become mentally challenging.

He simply hadn’t connected with Don the way he wanted to. There was something too slick about the guy that didn’t rub right. At least on the phone. The truth was, he hadn’t liked any of the men he’d met either in person or over the phone. All of them had talked to him like he was a sucker at a used car lot buying a car for the first time.

Telling him how much he didn’t know about the business side of baseball. Throwing numbers around like they meant nothing. None of them really cared what he wanted for his future career.

As Evan had made his way through small ball and minor ball, he’d come to understand that his particular athletic talent to hit a baseball was unique. Ultimately he’d started thinking about his future and what making it to the majors might mean. He’d always thought when that time came, Samantha Baker would be his agent.

He knew her reputation. He’d liked the idea of being with a boutique agency where he wouldn’t be one in a crowd. Plus, he knew her personally. It was crazy, but despite the brief time they’d spent together nearly two years ago, he’d felt a connection to her. A sense that if she took him on as a client, she would always have his back.

That was, until he’d watched her stand up in front of crowd of journalists and call Richard Stanson a victim.

A victim!

Yes, Evan had wanted someone who would have his back. But he wanted that person to also have a modicum of integrity. Sam Baker, despite what he thought he knew about her, apparently didn’t.

His phone rang again, and Evan considered letting it go to voice mail. Then he heard his father’s dire warning in his ear about needing to get this done, so he picked it up again assuming it would be Donald wanting to schedule a sit-down.

“Are you an idiot?”

It took him a second to register the female voice on the other end of the phone.

“Scout.” Evan smiled. “How the hell are you doing?”

Scout was the woman he owed everything to, and he’d made it a point to stay in touch. Out of both gratitude and having a serious baseball person in his life to guide him through the ropes of small ball. No doubt she was calling to talk about the irony of him being traded to the Rebels.

“I’m great, but you’re an idiot.”

“You know I didn’t have a choice to come here. It’s not like I could ask for a no-trade clause as part of a minor league contract. I have to go with the team who wants me, but I agree it’s a little crazy that I’m back here with the Rebels.”

“I’m not talking about that! I’m talking about the fact you had a chance to sign with Samantha, and you didn’t. Are you a fool? Don’t you want to make money as a professional athlete, or are you one of those purists who only plays for the love of the game?”

Evan was no purist, but what the hell was he supposed to tell Scout? That he didn’t want to sign with her sister because she lacked character? That she was the kind of woman who would look the other way when confronted with domestic abuse, something that was intolerable to him?

“She didn’t know,” Scout said, reading his mind. “That’s what you’re thinking, and that’s why you walked away. But you know me, and you know I would never lie about something like this. Samantha would never have supported a creep like that if she knew he’d been abusive to women. You have to trust me on this.”

“Scout, you know I want to believe you, but that video...”

“She didn’t know about the video. Saw it the first time when the rest of America did. Richard paid a large sum of money to make it disappear, and no one, not even the police or the NFL, had seen it. Certainly not Sam. Look, you know what kind of people I am. Surely you’ve heard stories about Duff Baker and the type of man he was. Do you honestly think Sam could be so different from us?”

No. He hadn’t thought it possible. Until the evidence was there in front of his face. Only now Scout was telling him a different story. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. Maybe he at least owed it to Sam to hear her side of the story.

“Okay, I’ll talk to her.”

“Good. Oh, and do me a favor. Do not mention that we had this conversation. Got it?”

Not really, but he wasn’t going to argue with Scout. He owed her too much. “Got it.”

* * *

EVAN KNOCKED ON the door of the Baker home and thought about the last time he’d been here. He’d come knowing he’d cost Scout her job, but instead it had been Sam who’d opened the door. Sam, who’d been sporting a considerable black eye at the time. He remembered the way his gut had tightened at the thought of someone hitting her. Hurting her. He’d had an almost crazy urge to find who did it and hurt him back.

Then she’d told him it had happened as a result of squabbling sisters, and suddenly the idea of cool and pretty Samantha getting into a brawl with her sister made her a little more human.

Unexpectedly Evan wondered if she would even bother to open the door to him. If she was innocent, then he’d been kind of a jerk. He was about to turn and leave when he heard the steady drum of sneakers hitting the sidewalk coming to a stop, and he knew he didn’t have to worry about her shutting him out.

Sam Baker looked like a hot, sweaty mess. A damp T-shirt over a sports bra, skintight running shorts and legs that were tan and toned, covered in a sheen of sweat. Her hair was pulled back into a short stubby ponytail.

Nothing icy about her now.

Like every time he laid eyes on her, regardless of how she looked, he felt it deep in his gut.

Evan shifted his feet and wondered again if coming here was a bad idea for an entirely different reason. He wasn’t sure it was a good thing to be thinking about licking the sweat off his potential agent’s neck.

One thing he knew, he’d caught her off guard. He could see that in the way she had brought herself to a sudden stop with her hands crossed over her chest even as she tried to regulate her breathing. Why he liked that, he wasn’t sure. Maybe catching her off guard was the only way to get the upper hand with Samantha Baker.

“Hi,” he said. The lamest opening ever, but he had to start somewhere.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“I wanted to talk the other day, and you told me to get lost.”

That pretty much summed it up. “I think maybe I was wrong. I was judging you based on something I saw on television, and I realized that’s not fair. I would like an opportunity to hear your side and decide for myself what kind of person you are.”

Arms still crossed over her chest, she looked away and shrugged. “Why bother? Surely there are any number of agents who are aware of the trade that just happened and have been in contact with you.”

“I don’t like them,” Even said as honestly as he could. “They’re all trying to sell me something. That’s not what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“I want someone who I trust will fight for me. Someone who will have my back. Someone who will listen to what I want, rather than tell me what they think I should do. I’m looking for a partner.”

She looked at him and nodded. “Okay. Then, let’s talk.”

* * *

SAM WALKED UP the front steps of her porch silently cursing that he was seeing her like this. Beyond looking terrible, she was fairly certain she smelled, too. This was not how one conducted business. This was not how one gained the upper hand in a negotiation. She considered telling him she would make an appointment for another day, but if she let him go, who was to say he might not find another agent he did like?

There were good people out there. Sam knew a lot of them. They weren’t all scumbags and car salesmen.

“Can you wait down here while I take a quick shower?” she asked even as she was opening the door to let him inside. There was just no way she could talk to him feeling this rattled. She needed tools, her clothes, her sophisticated cool style.

“Is that a real thing for a woman?”

“Oh, he’s funny and a sexist,” she quipped. “I’ll only be two hours. That’s not very long, is it?”

He smiled and took a seat on the couch in the living room. “I’ll wait.”

He said it like he meant she was worth it, and that did funny things to her insides. She jogged up the steps, happy to be out of his sight and hopefully sense of smell, and headed directly for the bathroom, stripping her clothes off along the way.

As the hot water washed over her, she had this crazy thought that she was upstairs naked, while he was downstairs waiting for her. Knowing she was naked and wet. Knowing that all he had to do was climb the steps and open the bathroom door...

“Stop thinking about him like that,” she mumbled as she turned off the water after a very quick five minutes.

Ten minutes later, she was dressed in pants and a pale pink blouse, her damp hair pulled back into a sleek knot, and her professional demeanor now fully in place.

When she came down the steps he stood.

“Can I get you something to drink? A beer or something?” Actually, Sam had no idea what type of alcohol was in the house. She only drank white wine, but the fridge down in the basement always used to be stacked with a variety of beers.

“No, I’ve got a game tonight. I only have a little less than an hour before I have to head to the field.”

Sam nodded, his point taken. “Then, sit, and I’ll get down to it.”

Sam pulled a small, delicate chair over, so that she was directly across from him.

“The Montreal Robins traded you to the New England Rebels for their closer. The Robins have a shot at the play-offs this season, while the Rebels are iffy at best. So they are probably already looking to next year, and they consider you the best any play-off-bound team had to offer. Your batting average is currently .359, but don’t expect to keep it that high when you face off against major league pitching, although even if it falls off a little, it’s still quite good. Plus, not only do you hit consistently, you also hit for power. A natural three-or four-hitter in the lineup.”

“I get it. You looked up my stats. What I want to know is what happened between you and Richard Stanson?”

Samantha bristled at that but continued. “I spoke to your father, of course. Naturally, he had only glowing things to say about you, but I get the sense there is a deep well of pride when it comes to you. I also spoke with Michelle Lowell.”

“My high school girlfriend?”

“She also had nothing but good things to say about you. Even though you were the star quarterback on the team, she said you were always very humble, which is rare in a stud athlete. Then there was Megan Craig, the teacher you worked with at your former job. She was a little cool with me, of course, having recently been dumped by you, but when pressed about your character, she couldn’t really say anything negative. I’m still trying to get in touch with your college girlfriend, Kelly Lawson. She seems to have moved around the country a bit, but I’m sure I will eventually track her down...”

“Hold up, hold up,” Even said, raising his hand. “You did all this research on me? I’m not the one who did anything wrong.”

“I’m not the one who did anything wrong, either,” Sam said coolly. “The research I did on you, I also did on Richard Stanson. I can only work with what people tell me, and Richard failed to tell me that in recent months he’d grown violent with his fiancée. Had he told me, I would have immediately reported him to the police for assault. I would have counseled Juliette to seek therapy for accepting that assault and still maintaining a relationship with him. When I went before the press I only had the word of a man who I had known for four years who had no previous history of violence, if the women in his past were to be believed. So I trusted him.”

“You were wrong,” Evan said solemnly.

It took everything she had, but Samantha kept her chin up. “I was wrong.”

“I believe you didn’t know.”

“I believe what Michelle and Megan said about you as a person. But I’m still going to speak to Kelly when I find her.”

“She won’t say anything different. I loved Kelly. I would never hurt her.”

He sounded so sincere, Sam thought. Like he absolutely believed what he said. Except Richard had said the same thing about Juliette, and Don had at one point said the same thing to her.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Sam said. “I find I’m a bit cynical these days.”

“Right. I guess you can’t believe anyone anymore. Makes what that bastard did even worse. Knocked around his girlfriend and then shattered your trust in the process. I don’t know how a person lives with that.”

Sam smiled humorlessly. “Richard was suspended for four games. He’ll be playing again next fall, and last I heard his new agent landed him a deal that will make him the highest-paid quarterback in the NFL. He and Juliette are to be married in August. They seem to be living just fine.”

“And you lost your business.”

“I lost my clients,” Sam corrected him. “I’m the business. I’m still here. Not going anywhere.”

Evan seemed to study her as if he was making his own decisions.

“I’m not going to sell you anything,” Sam told him. “I’m not going to beg you to sign with me. I’m just going to tell you a few simple facts. You’ve got a contract that expires at the end of the season. The Rebels, if they are smart, will wait until they call you up to the Bigs to see how you perform, before they even consider making you an offer. But it’s a risk they take. If they wait too long and you succeed, there will be other bidders. If they move too fast, and you don’t pan out...”