Sky put her hand across the table and gave Kelly’s a squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Kelly. That must be awful. How advanced is it? Does she still know who you are?”
“Sometimes. Mostly, no. Now that I have this job, I’m going to check out Naples to see if I can find a facility for her close by, so I can visit her more often. Maybe even have her stay with me on a weekend.” She brightened. “But enough of my situation. What are you thinking about renting?”
Sky caught her bottom lip between her teeth and sighed. “Naturally what I’d like to have and what I can afford to have are miles apart. I’d need at least a two-bedroom apartment, because once my brothers hear about my new job, I’ll be having plenty of company.” She paused and looked wistfully at Kelly. “If money were no object? I’d snatch up that end townhouse in a heartbeat. The double master suites on the second floor plus the guest room downstairs are wonderful. But money is an object, and I don’t need all that room, so I guess I’ll—”
“Would you be willing to, um, take on a roommate?” Kelly interrupted.
Sky sat back in surprise. Then did rapid mental calculations. A smile blossomed on her face. “Really? You’d be willing to share it?”
“Absolutely. I loved that place the moment we stepped inside. The deck on the first floor, the balconies off the master bedrooms, the open floor plan? That place is beautiful.” She shrugged. “That way I won’t have to rent a storage space for the furniture from my mom’s place.”
“You have furniture?”
“Yeah, and kitchen stuff, too.”
Sky grinned. This might really be doable.
“You have brothers?” Kelly asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Five.”
“Oh, my. Are any of them single?”
“Four.” Sky laughed. “But one of them is younger than you.” She sobered. “You’re sure? Maybe you should think it over …”
“Oh, hell, no. Let’s drive back there right now and sign on the dotted line. I’d kick myself if we waited until tomorrow morning and that unit was taken.” She held her hand up.
Sky slapped a high five and signaled the waitress for the check.
~~~
AJ unfolded his six-foot-two frame from the low-slung sports car and stretched the kinks out of his back. He should have flown down. He loved his Lamborghini dearly, but it was a speed ride, not a touring car, and the sixteen-hour trip from home, on a suspension tuned for control rather than comfort, had been a pain in his ass. Literally. But, damn, he loved the speed, and when he got far enough south to shed the roof, the wind in his hair was one more joy. The twenty-seven-year-old Wall Street banker tilted his head toward the sun and smiled at the warmth. Massachusetts was still digging out from its last snowfall.
February in Florida, especially here on the southwest edge of the state, was a delightful month. The cloudless blue sky stretched to the hazy horizon, where it met the Gulf of Mexico in a barely discernible line. Unbroken by high-rise buildings so often planted along the beaches of Florida’s resort cities, the view seemed to stretch to infinity, with only a few pleasure boats to provide a sense of perspective. Right now, the fresh breeze off the gulf held low humidity and lifted the damp, shaggy, blond hair that curled around his collar. The humidity would come, there was no doubt of that, but for now, the climate was perfection.
AJ carefully parked at the far end of the lot, tucked between an SUV and a pickup. Anybody who saw him drive up to open tryouts for an A-level minor league baseball team in a one-hundred-fifty-thousand dollar sports car was bound to wonder.
That’s the last thing AJ Reed wanted.
He’d sat across from his boss at Zeke’s private club after a heated racquetball game when Zeke first mentioned that he and a couple of friends were thinking of starting a minor league team. AJ almost coughed up the shot of vodka he’d just tossed back. He wasn’t eligible for the Niners, the softball team Zeke and his buddies played on. One had to have nine zeroes tacked on to one’s net worth to qualify for that honor. His grandfather would have made the team, if he was fifty years younger and didn’t hate the game. Despite his inheritance, AJ was a couple of zeroes short. Zeke didn’t know how badly AJ wanted to play professional ball. He’d hired him for his skills in the world of high finance—and because Zeke knew AJ’s grandfather as a fellow board member on several of Fortune’s top one hundred companies. AJ had more than justified Zeke’s faith in his abilities, and the two had become friendly competitors in several sports.
He had to admit the campus was top-notch, not that he’d expected any less from Zeke Nicholas and his co-investors. The setting alone was beautiful. Mimosa Key, an island a bit north of Naples, Florida, was a tropical paradise, with white sand beaches and sparkling turquoise water lapping its shores with the gently rhythmic caress of the Gulf of Mexico.
That paradise had been practically leveled a few years ago by one monster of a hurricane. But, thanks to Mother Nature wiping the slate clean, so to speak, the Casa Blanca Resort & Spa was now the island’s showpiece, sporting everything a well-heeled vacationer could want. The builders—also the owners—had spared no expense in tricking out the Moroccan-style buildings with high-end finishes, furnishings and flourishes. Modestly sized to maintain its exclusivity, the resort nestled among palm trees and flowering shrubs, with a five-star restaurant, world-class spa and acres of beach. One considered the possibility of meeting princes and movie stars on the way to brunch—and occasionally did. Had AJ been coming here to vacation, by now he would be relaxing in one of the private villas and sipping an icy glass of Belvedere vodka.
Instead, he hoped to win a berth in the U-shaped building built to house the future players of the Barefoot Bay Bucks. Its rooms were a bit less luxurious than Casa Blanca, perhaps, but every bit as desirable to him. The two wings of the building held the players’ rooms. The center section housed a cafeteria that would be called a restaurant anywhere else, plus a fitness center stocked with every mechanical device known to man that could trim, tone, and toughen a man’s body, as well as several Jacuzzis and icers to soothe the bumps and bruises acquired on the field. Tucked in the far corner, two private offices, one for the trainer and one for the coach, completed the main floor.
AJ unloaded his duffel from the trunk, slung the strap over his shoulder and headed for the group of men clustered around the main entrance to the stadium.
While most of the guys attempted to project a casual nonchalance, he knew that, like himself, they all had deep-seated hopes for their future as one of the “Boys of Summer.” Winning a spot here was the bottom rung of a long ladder, the top of which held a bright, shiny spot in “The Bigs.” It didn’t matter if you drove a Lamborghini Huracán or a Ford Focus, wore thousand-dollar suits or jeans and a T-shirt. For this job interview, all that mattered was talent. Some of the hopefuls had been scouted at college, many more had only played sandlot ball, but the love of the game drew them all to this sunny, breezy stadium on a Saturday morning in February.
“Okay, everybody, listen up.” A tall, ruddy-faced man in his early forties, whose body showed a tendency to camouflage its muscles with a few extra pounds, waited until the crowd quieted. “My name’s Cutter Valentine and I’m the general manager of the Barefoot Bay Bucks. That means if you’re real lucky and real good, you’ll get to call me boss by the end of the week.” He pointed to another man at the rear of the crowd. “That fella back there is the head coach, Donnie Betz. He holds your future here in his hands, so if I were you, I’d do most everything he tells you to do with as little grumbling as possible, because the day he comes to me and tells me you’re gone, you’re gone. No reprieves, no second chances. I trust his judgment completely. In a minute he’ll take over and start you through the tryout process, but, first, I want to thank you for coming here today. You all know this is a brand, spankin’ new facility and the owners have spent a lot of money to field the best A-level team in Florida. If you’re not willing to put everything you’ve got into making t
he Bucks a great team, might as well turn right around and head out. We’re only hiring winners here today.”
A few shouts from the group of “right on, man” and “hell, yes” echoed as the tall man left.
Expectantly, the crowd of men turned to face the coach. A hush fell over them, and the thrill and the tension caught them up, as feet shuffled and ball caps were gripped more tightly in their fists.
Donnie Betz didn’t need a mike to be heard, as he stood in front of them with legs like tree trunks spread wide and hands almost as large as mitts resting on his hips. His gravelly voice hit the back wall and bounced back with a faint echo. “Name’s Donnie. I don’t hold much with formality, so call me Donnie or call me Coach. I expect I’m not going to be your bosom-buddy by the end of the week—if you make it that far. I don’t pull any punches, and I’ll expect honesty and hard work from you in return. That’s all I got to say for now. Oh, there are three lovely ladies sitting at tables over there”—he nodded to the side—“who have paperwork you have to fill out and sign before we can let you try out. If you’re less than eighteen, you’ll have to have a parent or guardian sign along with you. I’d hustle right on over there. Tryouts begin in thirty minutes.” With that, he tugged his ball cap back on and strode toward the doors to the field.
The crowd stampeded toward the tables.
Chapter Two
Sky opened a fresh box of stick pens and tapped the permission forms into a neat pile. She grinned at Kelly, who manned the table next to her. They had gone through orientation for the past week with the office manager, Kathryn Fulbright, now standing on her left, and both had eagerly volunteered to come in on their day off to handle the paperwork for the open tryouts.
They’d slipped in the back way and gone upstairs to peer through the windows overlooking the front gate where the hopefuls had gathered.
“Oh, my God,” Kelly murmured. “Look at all of those big, handsome men. I knew I was going to love this job.” She poked Sky in the ribs. “See Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome over by the fence? Yum. I hope he makes the cut.”
Not sure which T, D, and H Kelly referred to, Sky had to agree there were quite a few guys in the crowd below who’d qualify for the third edition of the Magic Mike movies. Maybe they weren’t all movie-star material. They weren’t all ripped to perfection. Most were tall and lean, and a few were very young, but there was such a variety that any woman looking for a date could find someone to meet her criteria.
That’s just what Sky was looking for. Variety. She wasn’t interested in finding a soul mate. Handsome Ben, head of the human resources department at her former job, had burned her so badly, both emotionally and career-wise, that she’d sworn off exclusive relationships. She’d learned her lesson. She’d play the game the way the guys did. Date as many men as possible and not get serious about any of them. She’d go out, have some fun, maybe share a few kisses, but that was as far as she’d go.
She gazed down upon the crowd of guys with bats slung over their shoulders and gloves tucked under their arms. Holy cow. In this job, playing the field took on a whole new meaning. If she didn’t meet anyone interesting, that would be fine, too. She’d rather concentrate on her new job and lay a foundation that would impress the heck out of those three men who held her future in their hands. She gave a brisk nod. She could do that.
Donnie Betz was winding up his introduction as Kathryn glanced over at the pair of them. “Okay, ladies. A word of warning. All those young men are champing at the bit to become ballplayers. At least half of them will see you as a possible entry point into the Promised Land. Enjoy the smiles and the sweet talk, but don’t take anything seriously. That way lays disaster.” She chuckled. “Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”
Kelly grinned. “Copy that. On the other hand, there are going to be quite a few guys who may need some consolation after today. I, for one, am a very compassionate person.”
Kathryn merely shook her head. As the crowd arrowed over, she stepped in front of the table with a stack of papers in her hands. “All right, gentlemen, you each need to fill out one of these forms. When you’re finished, bring it and a photo ID or proof of age over to one of these nice ladies and sign in front of them. Please remember, those of you who are under eighteen must have a parent or guardian sign with them, and we’ll need to see their ID as well. If you didn’t come prepared for that, I’m sorry, but there will be no exceptions. You’ll have to try out again another day. If you didn’t bring a pen, there are plenty on the tables behind me.”
For the most part, the crowd was orderly, but none of them wasted any time filling out their forms. In less than five minutes, men lined up in front of Kelly and Sky.
“Howdy, Miss. Here’s my ID.” Brown-haired, brown-eyed. Sweet smile and dimples.
Sky checked his ID for birth date and matched his signature to the one on his Alabama driver’s license. “Welcome to Florida, Curt. Good luck today.” She handed back his license.
Blue eyes, sandy blond hair, well over six feet tall and oh, my, built like a dream. Sky took his ID, checked his form and looked up—way up. “Good morning, AJ.” He smiled, and Sky swore she heard violins. Damn. “Ah, AJ? There’s a little problem. We need your full name on the signature line.”
“Well, miss, I never use my full name. As you can see on my driver’s license, it’s just AJ.” He pointed to the plastic card.
Handsome as hell or not, buddy, you have to play by the rules like everyone else. Don’t think those looks are getting you a free pass. I’m immune to that now. I’m not risking this job just to make you happy. “Are you saying that you don’t actually have a first name? That even your birth certificate has only initials on it?” She quirked a brow.
“Well, no, not exactly.”
He leaned down and Sky smelled expensive cologne, mixed with a tang of manly sweat. A heady combo. She gave her head a little shake and put a determined smile on her lips. This guy was the blond, blue-eyed version of Handsome Ben. Confident that good looks and a charming smile would get him a free pass. “I’m sorry, Mr. Reed, you need—”
“How about I make you a promise? If I actually wind up making the team, I’ll be glad to come back and sign my full name. If I don’t make it, then it’s no real problem anyway, right?”
The line was getting longer as men jostled for position and shifted their bats and gloves from hand to hand. Sky didn’t want to hold it up. She sighed. “All right, Mr. Reed, have it your way.” She rolled her eyes.
“AJ, miss, please. If we’re going to see each other around here in the future, I don’t want to be so formal.” He hit her with another killer smile.
Sky didn’t return it. Kathryn’s warning replayed in her head. She handed back his license. “Fine, AJ, good luck today.” If he did make the team, she’d have his name quickly enough, along with his Social Security number and employment history. Let him have his way for now; she’d win in the end. The knowledge put a smug smile on her lips as AJ Reed tucked his driver’s license back into his wallet.
He studied her for a few seconds. “Thanks miss.”
To encourage him to move along, Sky looked around him to the next man in line. Almost reluctantly, Mr. Reed gave up his place in front of her table.
Black eyes, black hair, golden brown skin and gleaming white teeth. He slid a passport across the table with his form.
“Will that do?” he said with the lilting accent of the Caribbean flavoring his speech.
“It will, Mr. Perez. Welcome to Florida.” She returned his broad smile after he signed his form with a flourish.
“My handwriting isn’t so good, so in case you can’t make out my first name, it’s Manuel. Everyone just calls me Manny, though.”
The slight emphasis he put on “my” let Sky know he’d heard the exchange between her and Mr. Reed. She returned his grin. “Thank you, Manny, and good luck today.”
“Thank you, miss.”
Brown hair, brown eyes, slender build. Sky doubted this ki
d was even shaving yet. His father signed the paper. The young man’s eyes shone with anticipation as he headed toward the field. Sky didn’t want to be around if management wound up breaking this kid’s heart.
Chestnut hair, green eyes, powerful arms and a Texas twang.
Black hair, startling blue eyes, too nervous to smile.
And so it went, all sizes, all shapes, until finally, she looked up and there was no one in line. She leaned back in her chair and blew out a breath.
Kelly glanced over with a grin. “I think I’m shell-shocked. How many were there? Seemed like a hundred to me.”
Sky nodded. “At least.”
Kathryn spoke up. “There were sixty-seven.”
Sky’s eyes widened. “You kept track?”
Kathryn merely shrugged. “Paying attention to details is my job.”
Kelly muttered, “Looks like I better step up my game.”
“Let’s go get a hot dog in the cafeteria and come back and watch these guys strut their stuff,” Sky said.
“I’m in,” Kelly agreed.
“You two go ahead. I’ve got to take these forms over to Donnie and Cutter. They’ll want to jot notes on them as they watch.”
“How many will they hire?” Sky said.
“Depends on how many are good and what slots they play,” Kathryn replied. “They should trim the list down today by at least a third. The rest will continue through the week as they get tested at different positions. Every day a few will find a pink slip in their lockers, and their hopes will be dashed—for this team, anyway. Some will go on across the country, trying out wherever they can. For others, this may be their only chance.” Kathryn gathered up the forms. “See you ladies on Monday.”
“Yeah. Bye Kathryn,” Sky said.
Kelly grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the player’s cafeteria. “C’mon, I’m starving.”
Double Play Page 2