“You’re not in New York anymore,” Kate said. “You’ll find the fans here are pretty patient and forgiving. Just look at how they’ve taken to Derek Beaman.”
Reid cocked his head in thought. He knew the Beaman story well, and it was one to which he could relate.
Derek Beaman had been a top draft pick by the Houston Astros after one season of college ball thanks to a killer left-handed delivery that made opposing hitters whiff and scouts drool. His minor league career had started off promising. He breezed through A and AA ball and was named minor league pitcher of the year in the Astros organization.
By the age of 21, Derek was already in AAA, and after a rough first month, he quickly found his stride and was leading the league in strikeouts and ERA by July. While the message boards buzzed about when he would be called up, he collapsed on the mound in the middle of a game holding his left arm. He needed surgery. Season-ending surgery. It could not have happened at a worse time for the young pitcher. At the very best, his career was put on hold. At worst, he might not return to baseball at all. Doctors couldn’t guarantee anything.
The surgery went well and everyone was hopeful Derek would be on track to rejoin the team sometime in the new season. Things took an unexpected turn during his rehabilitation when Derek got hooked on painkillers. Badly. And when the painkillers weren’t strong enough, he sought out other drugs. He was arrested twice, and the second time knocked him out of Major League Baseball. It seemed his career was over before it really ever started.
Derek’s life was on a downward spiral. His baseball dream was over, and a relapse chased his wife from their home, taking their infant daughter with her. If not for his older brother, Derek might have landed in the obituary section before his 24th birthday, but Mike Beaman took the young addict in and straightened him out. With some tough love and more than a few arguments, Derek found sobriety and returned to Major League Baseball.
Kate had taken plenty of heat for her signing of Derek Beaman. He submitted to random, regular, and frequent drug tests. But even with those stipulations in his contract, the media had still berated Kate. Opposing fans taunted and poked at Derek’s drug use often. Pioneer fans had been wary at first, but he’d worked hard and given them some good innings. If the length of his autograph line was any indication, the fans were starting to warm up to him. If the fans could embrace a guy with that kind of history, maybe they would accept Reid too.
“Sports fans love a good comeback,” Kate said.
“It makes for the best story,” Reid agreed.
“When it comes to you, I don’t care about the story, I just expect your best effort,” Kate said.
“And that’s exactly what I’m going to give you,” Reid said.
“I know you will,” Kate said, nodding. “You’re a hard worker.”
Reid smiled a little. “Did you just give me a compliment?”
Kate blushed. And then she frowned. “No, I just stated a fact.”
“Funny. It sounded like a compliment to me,” he said.
She didn’t have a retort for that. Even with all that had happened and all the years that had passed, Reid still had a way of making her feel completely inept at speaking. Feeling flustered, she looked at her watch.
“It’s almost time to shut down,” she said, changing the subject. “The cocktail event isn’t until five. You’re free to do whatever you like until then.”
“I was going to look around at the facilities some more, but I don’t want to get in the way of the fans, so I guess I’ll do that another day,” he said. “Maybe we could hang out for a while.”
“I need to go back to my office. I have plenty of work to do,” she said.
“It’s Saturday.”
“You know baseball doesn’t stop for the weekends.”
“No, but the season hasn’t even started yet, and I’m willing to bet you’ve already put in way more than your due this week.”
“We have a lot of holes in the roster. I need to find a catcher who can hit. And it wouldn’t hurt to find a few bullpen arms we can store in AAA just in case.”
“A few hours won’t hurt. You can pick it up tomorrow, right?” Reid said. “If you want, I’ll even come in and look at names with you. Maybe I can offer some insight.”
“No, thank you. I know you mean well, but it’s my job, and I’ll handle it,” Kate said. “You probably need to start sorting out your move anyway.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “But the offer stands. I’m here to help you. As I recall, you once offered to help me when I felt a little in over my head.”
“That was pre-calc. Much different from managing a Major League Baseball team,” Kate said.
“You just don’t want to have to repay me with a date like I did back in the day,” Reid said in a teasing tone.
Kate shot him a fiery look, and Reid drew back a little.
“Even if we could date, which we can’t, what makes you think I would even consider it?” she asked.
“Geez, Kate. I was just teasing,” he said. “What did I do to deserve that kind of anger?”
“You really don’t want me to get started,” she said. “And, frankly, neither do I.”
She practically spat those words just in case her glare didn’t convey her displeasure.
“Wow,” he said. “I don’t know what I did, Kate, but -,”
James Scott walked up then, and Kate was relieved at the owner’s sense of timing. She was not interested in continuing this conversation, which felt a lot more like a confrontation.
“Reid, my man,” he said. “I just realized I didn’t talk to you about your living situation. I own some properties around town. Let me know if I can help you find a place to set up.”
Kate was glad James wasn’t particularly perceptive, as he seemed completely oblivious to the tension between Kate and Reid.
“That would be great,” Reid said, turning his attention to the team owner.
James nodded, and the two men arranged a time to meet up so Reid could see a few Scott Properties before he returned to New York.
Kate only vaguely heard any of it. She was still fired up over the brief jaunt down memory lane Reid had initiated. She knew it was foolish to hope they could work together without ever discussing their past, but she planned to do everything in her power to avoid it. She didn’t want to rehash it. She knew it wouldn’t fix anything. Clearly, he didn’t see that he’d done anything hurtful and she didn’t see the point in telling him. An apology wouldn’t do any good after all these years. And it was entirely possible he wouldn’t offer one anyway. That thought made her even angrier. She needed to get away from Reid.
She quietly excused herself from the men and decided to take another trip through the festivities as they wound down. It helped her wind down a little too. Fans were all smiles as she passed them on their way to the exits. Their happiness reminded her she had a job to do. Refocusing on her work, she was able to shove Reid Benjamin to the back of her mind. She could feel her whole body relaxing a little as she took in the crowd.
Kate managed to steer clear of Reid for the rest of the afternoon as she returned to her office to look through some more stat pages and possible pick-ups for the team. The natural light in the office began to dim and she realized she should probably close it up for the day. Only one thing stood between her and home.
By the time she arrived at the cocktail event, Reid was deep in conversation with three of the Pioneers players. She was relieved she didn’t have to make any introductions. Then again, she should have known that would be unnecessary. Reid had always been a social person and making friends was easy for him. He didn’t need any guidance in that realm.
She went to the bar and ordered a glass of white wine. When she turned, Don Carroll was at her side.
“Well, you finally did it. I thought we’d head to Arizona with no hitting coach,” the manager said.
“Come on now, Don. When have I ever left you ill-equipped to do your job?” she
asked.
Don gave her a look. “Do I have to mention Sean Weaver?”
A ballplayer-turned-manager, Don had been in several organizations before joining the Pioneers. He didn’t pull any punches and always let Kate know how he felt about her personnel decisions. Sometimes it seemed he was trying to tell her how to do her job, but by now, Kate was used to it. A lot of men in the business thought they knew better than she did. She had done her best to show she was perfectly capable of evaluating and hiring talent, but it didn’t always work out as she had planned.
“Are you kidding me? You’re still mad about that?” she asked. “It’s been three years, and he was my first free agent pick-up. I’m sorry he wasn’t Jered or Jeff. He’s not even related to them, but I honestly thought he was going to be serviceable in the bullpen.”
“Well, you were wrong. He wasn’t even serviceable as a bat boy,” he said.
“That’s a little harsh,” Kate said.
She could understand the manager’s frustration, and knew she deserved to bear the brunt of it. She’d signed Weaver based on one scout’s opinion and he’d never lived up to the hype. Every now and then, he’d throw a scoreless inning, but it was more common for him to give up three home runs in less than an inning. She’d never heard the Pioneers fans “boo” as loudly as they had when he came out of the bullpen. They were a forgiving and patient bunch, but by July, they’d seen enough of him. Unfortunately, they had to endure a few more months of him as Kate couldn’t afford to release him and no one in AAA was ready to take on his role. It was her worst signing to date, and she had hoped she’d lived it down by now, but apparently the manager wasn’t ready to forgive her yet.
“You know what was harsh? Having to march him out there every few days when the rest of the bullpen was gassed. He was a last resort, but I still used him way more than I wanted to,” Don ranted.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” she said. “I made it up to you the next season when I brought Jace Brigham over though, right?”
The mention of the young phenom she’d spirited away from the Giants brought a smile to Carroll’s wrinkled face.
“That’s what I thought,” Kate said, smirking. “See, I’ve gotten better at my job.”
“Well, I’m anxious to see what Benjamin can do for our boys,” Don said. “I’ve always liked him as a player, but I know he’s had some struggles. Hopefully those are behind him. Especially the off-field stuff. We don’t need any of that.”
“I wouldn’t have hired him if I thought that would be a problem,” she said.
She saw a hint of doubt on Don’s face, and she felt an urge to set his worry at ease.
“Listen, I’ve known Reid for a very long time. I know what he’s made of and what kind of person he really is,” Kate said. “Reid Benjamin will give you the best he’s got. And, trust me – that’s really something special.”
“Another compliment? This must be my lucky day.”
Until she heard his voice, Kate didn’t realize Reid had come up behind her while she was talking to Don. She wondered how long he’d been standing there. Obviously long enough to hear her last comment.
“Don’t get too used to it,” she said to him.
“No kidding. She doesn’t throw out compliments too often,” Don chimed in. “She’s a tough boss, Benjamin. I hope you’re ready for her.”
“Oh, Kate and I go way back,” Reid said, smirking at Kate. “I’m more than ready for what she throws at me.”
Kate wanted to slap that smirk off his face. And she certainly didn’t appreciate the suggestive nature of his tone. Beyond the irritation of being reminded once again of their history, she didn’t want the manager or anyone else in the organization to think she hired Reid for any reason other than his baseball skills. She’d worked hard to disprove the rampant theories that women were too emotional to make logic-based decisions. If her history with Reid ever came out, many would assume she’d hired him for other skills, and she was quite certain that all of her efforts would be for naught. Her reputation was on the line. If Reid screwed that up for her, the sliver of compassion she had for him would completely disappear. She would never be able to forgive him.
While she silently fumed, the two men next to her were sharing a good laugh. They’d shifted the conversation from her, thankfully, to baseball stories and ballplayers with whom they’d both worked. She hoped Don had missed Reid’s insinuation or chalked it up as typical male banter. She finished her glass of wine and decided she definitely needed another. The cocktail hour still had plenty of hour left. She would need some liquid help to get through it.
When she turned back with her new glass of wine, Don was no longer at the table, but Reid was still there. Waiting for her, apparently.
“Feeling a little calmer now?” he asked. “I thought smoke might come out of your ears a few minutes ago.”
“Reid, we need to be really careful with what we say about our past,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I don’t want people to think that’s why I hired you. And I hope you don’t either.”
“People hire old friends all the time. It’s not that big of a deal,” he said.
She gave him a look of disbelief. “Our history is a little more complex than that, unless you’ve forgotten.”
It took a lot of effort for Reid to keep a straight face. He hadn’t forgotten, but it amused him that she seemed to think he had. It was even more entertaining to see how much that irritated her.
“Whatever,” Kate said, clearly buying his act. “It was a long time ago, and I really want it to stay there. My job is on the line here, Reid, and so is yours.”
“Alright, alright,” Reid said, chuckling and giving her that winning smile. “I’ll keep it quiet. I know how to behave when I have to.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Kate said.
Reid just grinned as she walked off to talk to some of the Pioneers players. She made it clear she did not want him to follow, so he stayed put. He didn’t want to annoy Kate, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to avoid that. He’d never been good with his words – particularly where she was involved – but it seemed he was going to have to take extra care when he was speaking to her. He hadn’t yet started his job, but he wanted to keep it. He wanted to succeed at something. Something besides upsetting Kate. But that was going to be a challenge. Everything he said seemed to fire her up. And sadly, not in a good way.
He’d much rather see the good fire in Kate. Reid had vivid memories of how passionate she could be. He hadn’t thought about those occasions in quite a while, but now they flashed through his mind like a highlight reel, and he watched her across the room, comparing her to the girl in his head. It was a pretty sharp contrast – hot and sexy in his mind, cool and all business in person. Part of him wanted to know if the woman in his mind still existed. She didn’t show any signs of it at the moment. Then again, she had always been fairly guarded, but when she let that guard down – hang on. Kate had let him see her true self a few times, and those were the memories flowing through his mind right now. They were incredible and so was she, in ways no one else in this room knew. But Reid did. He knew it very well. He wouldn’t mind knowing it again, but there was no way Kate would let him in again. Not with the apparent anger she harbored toward him.
He tried to imagine what he’d done to earn such ire, but his mind couldn’t quite get there. He preferred to focus on the good times. Plus, the last time he’d seen her had been right before he hit a rough time in his life – and the bottle. That might be playing a factor in his recall. He didn’t like remembering those days, so maybe he’d also managed to erase a few memories of Kate and whatever he’d done to hurt her. He didn’t know if she’d ever tell him what he did, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. He had enough failures to try and fix at the moment without adding another.
Ten days later, Reid was officially a Portland resident. He’d wasted no time selecting one of the Scott Properties to call home, and it
only took him a few days to settle things in New York. He decided to hold onto his condo, although he let his former Mets teammates know it was available for sublease if they knew anyone who was interested. Packing didn’t take him long either. The only things he needed were clothes and a few personal items he had kept with him even through all his minor league moves.
The only delays in his move had come in the form of people calling to congratulate him on his new job. College coaches and teammates, Mets colleagues, and younger players he’d helped – everyone was eager to share their excitement over his new position. It was touching and encouraging that so many people believed he could do it, and although he was fairly sure of his skills, the votes of confidence certainly helped.
The encouragement from friends almost made up for the silence from his parents. He’d called them when he left Portland but got their answering machine. Oddly enough, the Benjamins still had one of those, but Reid wasn’t sure they checked it very often. If they did, they didn’t return his calls. He didn’t really blame them though. His parents had slowly been distancing themselves from him over the past few years, and his on-field failures had nothing to do with it. He simply wasn’t the man they’d raised him to be. Thanks to the New York media, his drunken escapades and constant carousel of female companions were well-documented. The final straw, as far as he could tell, had been the night he assaulted a photographer. Reid had been leaving a night club, where he’d gone to soothe his broken ego following a particularly terrible game in which he’d struck out four times and committed two fielding errors. After a few drinks and wordless conversations with a few beautiful women, he was feeling a lot better. The photographer was waiting outside to get a shot and wasn’t leaving without a good one. Reid should have ignored the photographer’s rude and snide comments, but the alcohol had robbed him of that capability. Instead of a great snapshot of the Mets’ big signing failure, the photographer left with a broken nose and grounds for a lawsuit that would net him more cash than the photo would have. Reid settled out of court, but the publicity kept him in the media for weeks.
Dropped Third Strike (Portland Pioneers #1) Page 9