Holly put away her cart and headed home. Dan Alexander was taking up too much of her time and attention. When he was pitching, it was all she could do to remember mustard instead of catsup or onions or no onions when she sold a hot dog. All she wanted to do was watch him wind up and throw. Even at bat, he managed to squeeze out a single from time to time.
She got it. He was the best on his team and top ten in the league. So, what would such a winner want with a loser like her? Fleeing a mobster, avoiding her duty to testify and put him away—running from life, responsibility, and doing the right thing. She could bring him nothing but grief. She’d better stay away. He deserved better than stupid Holly Merrill, a girl in serious hot water.
The day after tomorrow was their Playland date. She’d keep Lisa between them and blow him off afterward, making up some excuse. He had mentioned taking her to a club after dropping Lisa off. She’d been looking forward to it—even bought a dress at Maria’s Fashions. But not now. She liked him too much to expose him to her troubles.
There was much talk over dinner of Dan’s win that afternoon. Bud described some of the plays to Nancy, who listened with interest. Lisa, bored as usual, ate fast and asked to be excused. Holly was quiet. She enjoyed Bud’s rendition of the game, and didn’t feel like talking. What was there to say?
“I’m kind of tired. Do you mind if I go to my room?” Holly said.
“Not at all. Did you have enough to eat?” Nancy asked.
“I’m not very hungry,” the young woman said.
“I’ll do the dishes. Get some rest. You look beat,” Bud said.
Holly closed the door, undressed, and lay down on the bed. She needed a friend. Picking up her cell, she dialed Jory.
“How the heck are you?”
“I’m okay. Bud and Nancy are great. Please thank Nan again for me. Their home is better than my real one.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah, I do. But maybe it was my fault. I was pretty obnoxious as a teen,” Holly said.
“I watched the game yesterday. Was that you the pitcher connected with?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Wow! Dan Alexander is interested in you?”
“Not really. I’m just a diversion. The Hot Dog Girl.”
“Sure, sure. Like I believe that. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“Okay, so maybe there’s a little attraction going on there.”
“And from you too?”
“I know I shouldn’t. But he’s so hot and so nice!”
“Be careful, Holly. If the camera zeroes in on your face, just once… I mean, Flash Kincaid might be watching.”
“He loves baseball. He’s a Nighthawks fan too.”
“Please, don’t take any chances,” Jory said.
“I won’t.”
Jory brought Holly up-to-date on the local Pine Grove gossip and how well her husband Trent was doing.
“Gotta go. Got a game tomorrow,” Holly said.
“Goodnight. Be safe.”
“Thanks, Jory. You’ve saved my life.”
Holly clicked off her phone and lay in bed. She chewed her lip, thinking about what she could do to avoid the camera. There’s no way she could tell Dan not to acknowledge her when he was pitching.
“Hey, Dan, would you mind ignoring me when you’re pitching? Yeah, the camera might zoom in, and the man who wants to kill me to keep me from testifying and sending him to jail—where he belongs—might recognize me and come after me.”
Just the idea of that gave her the willies. She pictured the shock in his eyes and his moving away from her. If she really wanted to get rid of him, that would probably do it. No, she’d have to find another way. Maybe disguise herself. The image of her wearing that mustache and glasses combination gave her the giggles. She closed her eyes. Tomorrow, she’d find the answer. In the meantime, she needed rest.
* * * *
In the morning, an idea came to her. She borrowed a pair of Nancy’s scissors and trumped up a reason to leave early for the stadium. The game wasn’t until two, but she arrived at twelve. After pushing into the ladies room, she removed her cap, faced the mirror, and took a deep breath. It wasn’t enough that she had dyed her locks, now it was time for more drastic measures.
She grabbed a hank of hair and opened the scissors. Snip! She chopped it off about level with the bottom of her earlobe. Her eyes widened, and she gasped. No stopping now—she needed to continue while she had the courage.
It only took a few minutes to cut her hair short. She stuffed the discarded ends in the trash. Shaking, she raised her gaze to the mirror, chanting to herself, “It’s only hair. It’ll grow back. It’s only hair. It’ll grow back.”
But when she saw what she had done, the burning in her eyes turned to water. She sobbed. Sinking down on the toilet seat, she covered her face and wailed. She didn’t expect anyone would hear her as it was two hours before game time.
The creak of hinges drew her attention. She sniffled, unrolling toilet paper to blow her nose. Someone was coming in.
Then, a deep voice rang out. “Hello? Hey, yeah, I’m a guy, but are you all right?”
It was Dan Alexander. She cupped her hands over her mouth.
“Yoo hoo, lady?”
She heard footsteps approaching and swiped at her face with the backs of her hands. A shadow fell across her legs. Whispering a quick prayer, she raised her gaze to his. Concerned eyes stared back.
“Holly? What have you done to yourself?”
Hers filled again as she struggled to control her emotions. “I cut my hair.”
“Don’t women usually go to the hairdresser for that?”
“Well…”
“I mean, how many women chop off their hair in the bathroom at the ballpark?”
“Uh, probably not many.” The tears wouldn’t stop.
“What’s going on?” His worried expression appeared genuine.
“I’m not crazy. You don’t need to call Bellevue or anything.”
“Then, why did you do this?”
“I can’t tell you. I just needed to do it. Now.”
“If you don’t want to tell me, I can’t make you. I thought we were friends…” He backed away.
“It’s not like that. Yes, we’re friends. It’s not about that. Please trust me. You don’t want to know, anyway,” she babbled, rising from the commode and following him as he neared the door.
He stopped. A smile snuck across his lips. “It’s kinda cute.”
She turned to check in the mirror. The hair, that had once been long and luxurious, was now more of a long cap, snugly fitting her head. He reached over and ruffled it. Emotion caught in her throat. She hated the way it looked, but he had a different take.
“Makes you look twelve, but it’s not bad. Might get someone professional to tidy it up.”
“You like it?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s distinctive. Every chick has the same long hair, ya know?”
She’d never thought of it that way. With his thumb, he caught the one tear that wouldn’t leave as it slid down her face. She fluffed what was left of her locks with her fingers.
“You might get carded at the club tomorrow night.”
“That’s okay. I have I.D.”
“You okay now?” He shot her a sexy grin.
She nodded.
“Good. I gotta go,” he said, opening the door. “Hey, don’t tell any of the guys I was in here, okay?”
“Maybe.” His eyes widened, but she waved him off, laughing. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He kissed her cheek and headed for the locker room. Holly touched the spot where his lips had been, however briefly, and sighed.
She put her cap back on. It fit better than ever without that bundle shoved underneath.
She texted Jory.
I cut off my hair. Flash will never recognize me now.
Jory replied.
You’re bald???
Holly chuckled and typed
.
Nope. Just short. It doesn’t look bad actually. Dan likes it.
Dan? What’s he got to do with this?
Long story. I’ll fill you in tonight.
Okay. I’ll be watching for you.
Holly slid her cell into her pants pocket and turned toward the concession stand. Time to get loaded up and work the game.
* * * *
Dan was more confused than ever. What the Hell was she doing, cutting off all her hair in the ladies’ room? And she wouldn’t tell him why. He’d thought dinner at the Magee’s would give him enough info to fill in the blanks on this chick, but all it did was raise more questions. It didn’t reduce his attraction to her one bit, either.
Cal Crawley stuck his head in. “Bunting practice, Dan.”
Dan changed and followed Matt Jackson to a practice field in the back. Several pitchers were there.
“Where’s Riley? He’s supposed to be doing this. I’ve got a game in half an hour,” Matt asked.
The other catcher showed up. “Sorry.”
“Good luck, Matt,” Dan said, giving his friend a gentle slap on the shoulder.
“See if you can lay one down straight this time,” he replied, grinning.
Dan found it hard to concentrate. His bunting needed improvement, but it didn’t look like this was going to be the day for that. He kept casting his gaze to the stands, looking for Holly.
“Come on, Dan. You’re way behind here,” Riley said.
“I’m coming, I’m coming. This isn’t exactly my strength.”
“All the more reason to practice.” Riley crouched down. One of the relief pitchers wound up and sent one sailing down the center. Dan squared off, but the ball hit the bat and bounced in the air. The pitcher took a few strides and caught it.
“You’re out. That’s not the idea,” Riley said.
“I know, I know.”
“What is it?” Riley stood next to Dan and followed his gaze. “The Hot Dog Girl?”
“What do you know about her?” Alexander snapped.
Riley sniggered, “Everybody knows about her. Maybe because you keep pointing her out during games.”
Embarrassment crept into Dan’s face. He didn’t realize how much his little stunts had attracted attention, especially from his teammates. “Okay, okay. Let’s do it again.”
“We’re gonna keep doing it until you lay one down that the pitcher can’t field,” Riley said, chewing a wad of gum and pulling his catcher’s mask down over his face.
Dan picked up the bat and squared his stance at the plate.
“Get your head in the game, Alexander,” Riley said, between chews.
He knew the catcher was right. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by a female. He needed to master bunting to be even more valuable as a pitcher. The better he could hit, get on base, or move a runner along with a bunt, the more likely he was to play. If he could hit a little, he could ask for more money at contract time.
Dan figured he’d be lucky to be pitching for five years. So, he needed to make as much money as he could during that time. He had no clue what he’d do when his career ended, but whatever it was, having money was sure to help.
He took a breath and focused his attention on the ball. Slowly, he got back in the zone. The pitcher wound up and sent one high and outside. Dan didn’t swing.
“Watcha waiting for? An engraved invitation?” Riley growled.
“I’m not gonna swing or even square off on a ball, asshole.”
“Who you calling an asshole?”
“You, that’s who.”
Riley stood up. “Practice is over for you, get outta here.”
“Come on, guys. Cool off.” The pitcher came off the mound and, with a hand on the shoulder of each teammate, spoke to them in a quiet tone.
Dan went back to the plate, and Riley crouched down. They kept throwing to him until he got off three good bunts. Although he hated batting practice of any kind, because he just wasn’t good at it, he knew he had to master this.
“Well done, Alexander. You’re excused. Next?” Riley said, spitting out his gum and peeling back the wrapper on a new piece.
Dan handed the bat to the batboy.
Surprised at how much sweat he could generate just trying to bunt the ball, he took one whiff of his underarm and headed for the showers. After bathing, he changed into a clean uniform and joined his teammates to watch the rest of the game from the dugout.
While the others focused on the Philadelphia Bucks, who were winning three to two, Dan scanned the stands, hoping to catch a glimpse of Holly.
“You can’t play. You didn’t put your five bucks in,” Skip Quincy said.
Dan grinned. “That’s okay. I’ll let someone else win for a change.”
“Think you’re hot shit, don’t you?” Skip quirked an eyebrow.
“I have the best record for babe-watching, so yeah, I guess I am.”
Skip laughed. “Guess you are.”
Once he spotted Holly, he kept his eye on her. One eye on the game and the other on his girl. But she wasn’t his girl. Did he want her to be? It was too soon to tell. Tomorrow, after spending the day at the amusement park then the evening devoted to other kinds of entertainment, he’d know. At least, he hoped he would.
Chapter Six
Holly ran a brush through her short locks. It sure didn’t take any time to get this new ‘do’ ready. She wore tight jeans and an aqua, scooped-neck T-shirt. Sporting such a boyish bob, she hoped her cleavage would show that she was a girl.
She let out a breath when she recalled the tap dancing she’d had to do verbally the night before when she’d arrived back at the Magee’s with short hair. Nancy had evened it out for her. Looking in the older woman’s eyes, it had been obvious Holly hadn’t fooled her. Nancy had shot her a knowing glance and nodded, but hadn’t smiled. Lisa thought Holly’s new look was great and had begged her mother to let her get her hair cut too. Nancy had relented. After all, it was only hair.
Extra mascara and eyeliner added drama to Holly’s look. The new cut was chic and distinctive. Dan was right. Or was he only cajoling her, lying through his teeth? Did he hate it, think her a weirdo for doing it and then not telling him why? She shuddered. I must appear nuts to him. Today was their outing to Playland. She’d play along then skip out after they arrived home.
He’d promised to take her to a club afterward, but she doubted he meant it. Especially after her escapade with the scissors. It was okay. He was out of her league anyway. Why would he want to date the Hot Dog Girl? Of course, he didn’t. He was only being polite. Wasn’t he?
Lisa knocked on her door. “Sarah’s here. Are you ready?”
“Coming,” Holly called.
The two teens were whispering, texting, and giggling when Holly joined them.
“Hi, Sarah, nice to meet you.”
Nancy stood and cleared her throat. “Please sit down girls. We need to go over the ground rules.”
Lisa groaned. “Mom! Not now.”
Holly raised her hand. “Look, if you don’t listen to your mother, do what she says, and treat her with respect, this trip is off right now.”
Lisa sat back. “Okay, okay.”
Nancy shot a grin at Holly and spoke. “First, you must listen to Holly and do everything she says, without question! Second, you must both stay together. Neither can go on a ride without the other, unless either Holly or Dan go with. Neither of you are to be standing alone. Always be with Holly, Dan, or each other. Third, keep the sugar down. Ice cream is fine, but cotton candy and candy apples—well, choose one and only one. Fourth, leave when Holly and Dan say it’s time to go. Fifth, don’t go off with anyone, even if you meet a friend. Is that everything?” She turned to Holly.
“Seems to cover it. Got it, girls?”
They nodded. Sarah responded, “Yes, ma’am.”
The buzzer sounded. Lisa pushed the button, and the girls jumped up and down, squealing.
“I can’t believe Dan A
lexander is coming with us,” Sarah said. “He’s such a hunk!”
“Old enough to be your…well, maybe older brother.” Nancy wagged her finger.
“He’s only coming because Holly’s going. He’s into her,” Lisa said.
Holly felt color rising to her cheeks. Their attention was diverted by a knock on the door. Lisa pulled it open.
“Come on, ladies, I’m double-parked,” Dan said, stopping for a moment to run his warm gaze up and down Holly’s form.
His look sent heat through her. She stared at him. He wore a short-sleeved, light green, sports shirt, open at the neck, revealing a bit of chest hair. No undershirt! The color picked up the green flecks in his hazel eyes. His khaki pants hugged his hips.
With his hair combed and a fresh shave, he looked like a handsome suburbanite out for an excursion with his daughter and her friend. She got a whiff of his sexy aftershave. The woodsy scent pleased her, as did the idea he cared enough to make himself as attractive as possible. And he had succeeded.
Holly grabbed her purse, hugged Nancy, and trailed the teens out of the apartment. Dan opened the backdoor for the girls and the front for Holly. She slid into his ice blue BMW SUV. The rich leather seat still had that new leather, luxury smell.
“Buckle up. You, too,” he said, glancing at Holly.
She licked her lips. He looked as commanding behind the wheel as he did on the mound. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he put the car in gear and turned the wheel. Within moments, they were whizzing up the West Side Highway on their way to Rye Playland.
Holly covered the rules with him, and he agreed. She opened her window to the late spring air. The temperature was perfect, not too hot or too cold. The freshness of the breeze took her away. For a day, she wasn’t a fugitive, or a Hot Dog Girl, she was the date of a fabulous pro baseball player, headed for a fun adventure of scream-producing rides, sugar-high cotton candy, and mingling with regular people.
Dan Alexander, Pitcher Page 7