Best of all, the Turbos could finally trade that ball and chain named Kevin Halderman.
And Sam? He was going to be the biggest winner. He would get everything he wanted. A budget with room to hire talent. Forgiveness from the fans for not immediately heeding their silly superstitions. A victory over Luther McLean. And best of all, job security.
The distraction of Sarah Halderman this morning had worked in his favor. Maisy hadn’t considered that Sam had any number of options for getting back to Indianapolis. A few phone calls and he could have hired a driver to come out and pick him up.
The moment Sarah Halderman had told Maisy not to get near Indianapolis, Sam knew he was close to winning. Maisy had lifted her chin and hardened her eyes like she had in the paddock yesterday. It was a warrior expression that he was beginning to admire greatly. Sam had grabbed his shoes and his phone and limped to his car to wait for Maisy.
McLean had done a good job, too. He might have been a little heavy-handed in blaming Sam, but that was the point. Now that Maisy sat in the driver’s seat, where he wanted her, Sam could work on the rest of his plan.
She gripped the wheel so hard her knuckles were white. At first, he thought she was nervous driving a stick. But the way she expertly shifted between gears made him realize she was livid.
“You’re good with a manual transmission. Not many people can claim that these days.”
She kept her eyes on the road. “When you grow up on a farm, you learn how to handle a stick shift pretty quickly.”
“You dodged a bullet with that lady.”
Her shoulders relaxed just a fraction. “Tell me about it.”
“Your mom will tear her to shreds if she gets a word in edgewise.”
She kept her eyes on the road and her lips curled ever so slightly. “Yes, she will. I’m surprised you never met Kevin’s mom before.”
Sam studied her profile. “Did I say I never met her?”
She turned her head. “What?”
“Why do you think I hightailed it to the car? She tried to negotiate a free suite for her use last spring. Of course, I said no. I had to put Kevin’s agent between us before she ripped me apart.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “Then you know…Honestly, it’s almost enough to go to the stadium just to spite her.”
“That would certainly be a good way to get even with her.” He let it rest for now.
The Cadillac cut through the puddles left by last night’s rain. The sun drifted in and out of the clouds. According to his weather app, clear skies were promising for tonight’s game. Things were settling perfectly into place.
Sam changed the subject. “I’m not much of a country guy myself. But isn’t it unusual that a doctor would own a farm?”
“Dad grew up on a farm. When he became a doctor, he couldn’t let go of the lifestyle. He hires out most of the maintenance and labor. But he still gets behind the wheel of a tractor any chance he can get.”
“My guess is he wishes that were more often. Still, it must be a handful to maintain.”
“The farm’s just twenty acres. Dad sold off most of the land to a neighbor years ago. We have a hired hand who helps with the maintenance, the horses, and a small crop of corn and beans in the west field.”
“And you fill in where you can, I bet.”
She shrugged. “Mom is still fully capable of cooking, driving, and doing light housework. Dad keeps saying he is going to retire soon so they can spend more time together. They hope to travel.”
“You and your brother grew up loving the farm life, too?”
Maisy nodded. “We got the best of both worlds. Farm life without the stresses most farm families deal with.”
“No working the fields before school?”
She sent him the first full smile of the morning. He was reminded of the spunky woman he’d met just a few short weeks ago.
“Oh, we had chores. My dad would take great pleasure in pulling our pillows out from beneath our heads on weekends and telling us it was time to walk the beans.”
“Walk the beans?”
“Weeding the beans. You walk the rows and pull up the weeds by hand. It’s what he grew up doing. He claimed it was building our work ethic.”
“Did it work?” He pictured a young Maisy running through the fields with dirty hands and sunburn.
“It must have. Chad owns small farm fifteen miles down the road. He and my sister-in-law also run a real estate company in town. So, he’s carrying on the tradition of a hobby farm.”
“Is that your dream, too? To own a farm someday?”
She frowned. “I don’t really know what my dream is anymore.”
Crap. It was a stupid question. Her dream had been to follow her ace pitcher.
“I’m really sorry you have to drive me all the way to Indianapolis. You’re welcome to stay and spend the night.” She looked startled, so he added, “At the apartment that the Turbos use for guests. The team will be happy to put you up at no charge.”
She downshifted as they entered Comeback’s city limits. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not going to the stadium.”
“Of course. I know that.” He pulled his sunglasses from his pocket and put them on in one smooth motion. “I just want you to know that we’ll take care of you even if you aren’t going to come to Kevin’s game tonight.”
“Thanks. But I’ll call my friend’s mother if I decide to stay in town.”
“The friend who was at Plato’s with you?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s fine. But you don’t have to. The company keeps a unit for VIP guests and it’s empty this weekend.” He had told his secretary to kick anyone out if they were using it.
They passed a sign that read Welcome to Comeback.
“Comeback is an odd name for a town.”
She shrugged. “Not as odd as the original name.”
“What was that?”
“Dogleg.”
He laughed. “There has to be a story there.”
She smiled and the sparkle was back in her dark eyes. “Legend is that it was named for a favorite dog who lost his leg in a wagon accident. The dog lived. His leg became famous.”
“So how did Dogleg turn into Comeback?”
They stopped at a red light and Maisy couldn’t hide her pleasure. “Because of a woman.”
“I should have guessed,” he said.
“Supposedly all the women in town hated the name Dogleg. The men loved it, of course. In 1895, the mayor’s wife told her husband that if he didn’t change the name, she was leaving him. He thought she was bluffing.”
“Uh-oh.”
Maisy shifted as the light changed. “Yup. A year later he renamed it in hopes she would forgive him. The full name of the town is listed in the National Registry as Comeback Glynnis. People shortened it over time.”
Sam chuckled. “That is one hell of a good story.”
“The long version of that story is really fun. My kids love it.” Something about the way she said “my kids” made him want to visit her classroom. He pictured her like Mary Poppins, with a ring of bright-eyed children seated around her. They must love her for sure.
“Fourth grade?”
They were passing through the heart of Comeback and she pointed ahead of them. “Yes. Joy Elementary School. It’s on this road.”
He was about to tell her that he’d seen it yesterday when he caught himself. It wouldn’t do for her to know how much research he had done prior to coming to town.
As they passed the building, a work crew that hadn’t been there yesterday was putting a tarp over part of the roof. “Looks like you are under construction.”
Maisy shook her head. “Unfortunately, that happens almost every time it rains. The roof springs leaks faster than we can keep up. I had a bucket in my classroom for
half of last year to catch the rain. Fixing the problem is going to be a big chunk of the district’s budget this coming year.”
The school looked even more worn down today than it had yesterday. Peeling paint. Crumbling brick. A playground with broken equipment and patches of brown grass and mud. It reminded Sam of his own elementary school. “Comeback doesn’t look like a struggling town. Why a budget problem?”
“We have a nice little shopping district and a lot of the old buildings are kept up thanks to the historical society. But don’t let that fool you. We’re a Title I school. A lot of our kids live in rural poverty. Their families may be land rich, but they don’t have much in the bank. Some of the parents are migrant workers. And still others work in Gary. There aren’t a lot of jobs available in Comeback.”
“How was it you were able to bring them on a field trip to see the game?” Thinking about Maisy’s fourth grade and the school they had just passed was giving Sam an idea.
She adjusted her side mirror and sighed.
“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it if it is so painful.”
“I wish everyone would stop assuming this whole thing is so painful for me. I’m over it, okay?”
He removed his sunglasses and gave her a sideways look that said, You aren’t fooling me.
“Seriously!” They were leaving the city limits and she shoved her foot down on the clutch as she shifted back to the open road.
“The local rotary pays for the kids to go on one big field trip a year. It’s a real treat.”
“But next time you’re going to a basketball game, right?” he joked.
“Or the beach!” she said bitingly.
The sun came out. It beat through Maisy’s side window and she lowered her visor. The rain caught the sunlight and glittered on the grass beside the road this morning. Wildflowers he’d missed yesterday bloomed in yellows and purples. A breeze bent clusters of grass in silver and green waves. His mood was improving considerably. Maybe he could like country life after all.
After several minutes, he dragged his eyes away from the scenery. He had work to do. “I have to catch up on my emails if you don’t mind.”
Scrolling through his research on Maisy, he stopped at the article about a fundraiser at Maisy’s school. The one where they raised money for school supplies. The Turbos had a special fund for Title I students. He still had reserves that could cover a donation that might make a real difference to Maisy and her students. If he played his cards right, this could be the move that would seal the deal. But it couldn’t come from him. It would seem too calculating now that they had discussed the school and the leaky roof and the kids who couldn’t afford their own field trip. He marked the time and waited.
For the next half hour, Sam responded to emails. When he finished, he wrote one final email to Joanie, his secretary. “Call me. Then hang up.”
It took less than ten minutes for Sam’s phone to ring. He sent Maisy an apologetic look and reached for his earpiece in the tray between the bucket seats. Sliding it in his ear, he kept the phone deliberately pointed away so she wouldn’t see the caller ID.
“Hello.”
“Are you going to tell me why I’m doing this?” It was hard not to smile at Joanie’s typical sarcasm.
“No. You aren’t interrupting me at all, Mr. Zumaeta.”
“Oh, I get it. Will you be back soon?”
“I’m on my way right now. Unfortunately, the trip wasn’t successful.”
“Yet, right?” Joanie asked mockingly.
“Ms. Gray declined to come to the stadium tonight.”
“Okay, boss. I’ll make sure the apartment is ready for her,” she said before hanging up. Joanie was as sharp as they came.
Sam kept talking to the dead line. “This is a complicated situation.” Now the real maneuvering occurred. He counted to ten. “I doubt that will change her mind. She doesn’t want to come back to Turbos Stadium, even with an offer that generous.”
He scrunched up his face, making it look like Zoom was upset. His eyes drifted sideways. Maisy’s jaw was set, and she stared at the road like a general refusing to surrender.
“Yes. I saw the article, sir. But I have to respect Maisy’s wishes.” He paused and tilted his head as if he were listening to a preacher deliver a sermon. Maybe he should have taken up acting. He wasn’t too bad at improv. “Now wait a minute and let me make my point. I know fans are upset. But they will just have to understand. We don’t pressure innocent people into coming to the ballpark with offers like that.”
Just then his phone vibrated. Damn. The joke was on him. A real call. From the real Zoom.
He didn’t answer.
Almost as soon as it stopped, it started again. Zoom was not going to give up.
“Ahhh, just a moment, Mr. Zumaeta.” Sam readjusted his position in the seat. The sun was shifting to the front windshield and it felt like an inferno. He turned up the air conditioning and pretended to put the fake call on hold. Then he answered the real call.
“Sam here.”
“Sam!” the older man’s voice boomed. Sam turned down the volume with three clicks.
“Hi. Can you hold?” Normally, he would never make his boss hold. There wasn’t a lot to be done about it, he had to get rid of the fake Zoom to talk to the real Zoom.
He shifted back to the dead line. “I promise to make sure to tell Ms. Gray.”
A flurry of barking erupted from his console, making his head swim. His other phone.
Maisy mumbled, “Do you have a dog?”
He put his hand over the speaker. “It’s my personal phone.” He’d call his sister back another time. He was breaking out in a sweat as it was, keeping his boss on hold. The mighty Donut King did not take kindly to being asked to wait.
As the barking continued, he said good-bye to the fake call with an acknowledgement designed to pique Maisy’s interest. “That’s a generous offer that I am sure would be appreciated. But I don’t think Miss Gray will accept it, sir. I’ll talk to you later.”
Then, feeling dizzy from faking phone calls and not remembering who he was supposed to be talking to, Sam picked up the line with the real Zoom. “Sorry to keep you waiting like that.”
To Maisy, he mouthed, my secretary. Maisy was grinning from the seat beside him. The barking had stopped, but she seemed amused by his phone call merry-go-round.
“So, where were we?”
“We were nowhere, Hunter. Where is that girl? She’d better be with you.”
“Yes. Miss Gray and I are on our way to Indianapolis. I had a little problem with my foot.”
“Good! I’m hosting her at the ball game tonight. The fans need to see her. We’ll put her in the front row of the owner’s box. We’ll have her wave to everyone at the start of the game. That will look great on ESPN. Where is she staying?”
The real Zoom didn’t have to know that Maisy was dragging her feet. Sam was ninety-nine percent certain that she would be at the game tonight when he got through with his plan. Even so, it felt like someone was drilling a hole in his gut.
“Of course I offered to let her stay in the Turbos guest apartment tonight since she’s being nice enough to drive my car.” Sam sent Maisy an apologetic shrug.
“Perfect. Let the little gal know we are going to pull out all the stops for her. I’ll send a box of donuts.”
Donuts. Good grief. Zoom might have more luck with a bottle of tequila. But Sam kept his mouth shut. This was far trickier than he had imagined when he’d come up with the genius plan thirty minutes ago. If he failed, he was going to have some big explaining to do to Zoom.
He’d deal with all that later. At the moment, his greatest desire was for Zoom to get off the phone so he could go on pretending to talk to his secretary. Unfortunately, Zoom sounded like he was just getting started with the idea train. “I was thinking we should
set a up a cute meet. Get Halderman and this Maisy Gray to pose for photos.”
Sam sat up straight. He forgot what he was supposed to be talking about for Maisy’s ears.
“Not a good idea.” He couldn’t imagine putting Maisy through that kind of painful reunion.
“Oh, come on. It’s been years, hasn’t it? She must be over the guy.” Zoom was on his fourth marriage, which said it all.
Sam went for tact. “Regarding that…We have to handle that deal carefully. It’s important that we keep our focus on the delicacy of the issues.”
Maisy wasn’t laughing anymore. She was darting glances his way with something close to concern in her eyes. Something inside him loosened.
As Zoom lectured, Sam lost his focus. He forgot the topic of discussion. The sun filtered through pieces of Maisy’s hair that were falling out of her ponytail. Her hair was so dark he had thought it was completely black. But it wasn’t. The slightest shade of red gleamed at the top of her head. Just like her eyes. There was a flicker of amber inside their dark rims. In the light that bounced off her face, she practically glowed.
Kevin Halderman was kind of an idiot for letting her go.
“Did you hear what I said?” Sam realized Zoom was waiting on the other end.
“Sorry?”
“I said, get her to the ballpark early. I want to get a picture with her.”
“We’ll see.” It was unusual for Sam to make a noncommittal comment like that to his boss. But Zoom was being awfully demanding. If Maisy’s ear wasn’t a foot away, he might have a word or two to say about Zoom’s callous plan. The man might own a donut empire, but people weren’t as expendable as the flavor of the day.
Maisy was a woman with spirit. Tough but with a sensitive side, too. She claimed she was over Kevin. But her body language gave her away. Every time the subject of that asshole came up, she folded in on herself. How had a lummox like Halderman snagged a woman like her, and why the hell would she ever want him back?
Sam had never lost his head over a woman. He didn’t know what that kind of love felt like. Even so, Sam and Maisy shared one thing in common. Kevin Halderman was the bane of both their existences. Whatever happened, he would see to it that Maisy wasn’t hurt by the jerk.
Come Back to the Ballpark, Maisy Gray Page 11