Stealing Second

by Alison Packard

  “A full meal. The party will start around seven or seven thirty, so I think it’s appropriate to feed everyone.”

  “I agree.” Dorie sighed. “I’m so happy for them. Since my divorce I’ve found it difficult to find a man I want to spend an evening with, let alone a lifetime.”

  Katherine picked up her water bottle. “Isn’t that the truth? Are you seeing anyone now?” she asked in a casual tone, then lifted the bottle to her lips and took a sip.

  “Yes, but the less said about it, the better. We just started dating and I don’t want to jinx it.” Dorie lifted a hand, crossed her fingers and smiled. “I hope it works out. I like him a lot.”

  Katherine returned her smile, then set her bottle down and flipped the page in her notebook to the guest list as her thoughts reeled. Lily spent most of her free time at the ballpark when the team was in town, so it made perfect sense that the man Dorie was seeing worked for the Blaze.

  As far as she knew, Tom had no reason to call Dorie; it wasn’t that much of a stretch to conclude they were dating. She could be wrong, though. The man Dorie was seeing could be anyone, but she didn’t dare ask. There were some things in life she’d rather not have confirmed. And this was one of them.

  * * *

  Tom looked up from the lineup card on his desk after his pitching coach knocked lightly on his half-open door. “Come on in. I hope you’re here with good news.” He leaned back in his chair. “If not, get the hell out,” he added with a grin.

  Seth Curtis chuckled as he settled onto the chair across from Tom’s desk. “Doc Keen says Rizzo can come off the DL in a few days, as expected. That’ll give me some time to get him ready for the Colorado series.”

  Tom let out a relieved breath. He’d been half-afraid the team’s doctor would extend Rizzo’s rehab and the team would be without one of their best pitchers for another month. A crucial month that would decide whether or not the team would make it into the post-season. “How’s his pain level?”

  “He says his thumb doesn’t hurt at all. I expect he won’t be packing the same amount of heat as before the injury, but we’ve got time to work on that before Colorado. It’ll take him a few starts before he gets back in the groove.”

  “Anything else I need to know about?” Tom asked the man he’d brought with him from the Rangers when he’d been tapped to lead the Blaze. A former teammate, Seth had been one hell of a pitcher until he’d blown out his arm. He’d never been the same after Tommy John surgery. But while he could no longer pitch, he could coach, and he was one of the best in the national league.

  Seth’s amiable expression soured. “Gentry was late getting to the ballpark again today. He seems to think he’s exempt from the rules if he’s not starting. I told him if it happens again we’d fine his ass. Maybe money out of his wallet is the only way to get through to him.” Seth shook his head in disgust. “What pisses me off is that when he first came up, he didn’t do shit like this. I’ve never seen fame go to someone’s head so quickly.”

  “The kid’s got the best arm in the league right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if he won the Cy Young this year. He’s been on the cover of every sports magazine out there, and he’s getting more pussy than the rest of the team combined.” Tom grinned. “He thinks he’s invincible.”

  “Maybe, but I’m sick of it,” Seth grumbled.

  “You’re not the only one. But as long as his ERA is under 2.50 and he’s putting butts in the seats, the front office wants to keep him happy.”

  Annoyance flared in Seth’s eyes. “It’s not like Lowry to put up with that crap.”

  “When I said front office, I meant our illustrious owner, Ava McCandless.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Seth scowled. “Is he screwing her?”

  “You got me.” Tom shrugged. “I try my best to stay away from the gossip mill. It’s counterproductive.”

  “Maybe that’s why he thinks he’s exempt from the rules.” Seth pulled off his cap and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I swear this team has more damn drama than that stupid soap opera my ex-wife used to watch every day.”

  Tom laughed. “It’s not that bad. Scanlon keeps them in line for the most part. Trey’s just feeling his oats. He’ll settle down.”

  “I’m not so sure of that.” Seth slapped his cap back on his head.

  Tom looked over Seth’s head at the flat-panel television mounted on the wall next to the door. He quickly scanned the day’s scores shown on the screen. “The Dodgers and the Padres both lost today.”

  “Finally.” Seth pushed up from the chair. “Sounds like a reason to celebrate. Want to head over to Kamu’s with me?”

  “No.” Tom waved a hand. “I have some film to watch and I need to make a final decision on tomorrow’s lineup. You go ahead.”

  After Seth left his office, Tom finished penciling in the players for tomorrow’s game, then headed across the hall and hunkered down at the oval table in the conference room to watch film from today’s game against the Pittsburgh Pirates.

  Several years ago he wouldn’t have turned down the opportunity to join Seth for an ice-cold beer or two. And while he occasionally accompanied Seth or the other coaches to Kamu’s for lunch or dinner, for the most part he found it easier these days to avoid temptation by steering clear of bars as much as he could.

  His sponsor back in Texas told him that the urge to drink would always be with him, and there were days when that was truer than not. But what kept him from giving in to temptation was the memory of waking up in the wreckage of his truck after a night of wild partying. By the grace of God he hadn’t killed himself or anyone else, but he could have. And if jacking up his knee and having to quit playing the game he loved was the price he had to pay for that wake-up call, then so be it.

  * * *

  Working odd hours wasn’t new to Katherine. She’d hoped to have an entire Saturday to herself, but after meeting with Dorie, all she’d managed to do was get a pedicure before returning to Blaze Field to finish up the weekly community outreach report due to Doug on Monday morning.

  Unfortunately, though, her mind wasn’t on work. In what was becoming a recurring theme, her thoughts kept drifting to Tom, and instead of completing her spreadsheet, she stood at the window in her office, staring at the field below, still wondering if Tom and Dorie were an item.

  Although the game had ended over an hour ago, the lights still shone on the field, where the grounds crew was working diligently to ready it for tomorrow’s doubleheader. At least someone was working. With a disgusted sigh, she returned to her desk determined to crank out the report.

  Forty-five minutes later, with the click of her mouse, she saved her statistical spreadsheet, then hit the print button. On Monday, she’d have her assistant proof it for her and then compile it with the summary report she’d already put together. The Blaze organization prided itself on reaching out to the community, and partnered with local businesses and nonprofit groups throughout the season to provide special services like blood donation, food and clothing drives, and other charitable events to help Bay Area families in need. One of the things she loved most about her job was the opportunity to make a difference in the community, and she was most proud of her alliance with a nonprofit group that focused on bringing awareness to underage drinking and driving.

  After powering down her computer, Katherine returned to the window and looked down on the now-pristine field. She’d grown up rooting for the Texas Rangers, but when Tom joined the team right out of college, she’d stopped following them so closely. Still, because of her job, his exploits on and off the field were unavoidable. Tom and a few of his teammates were infamous for hitting the bars and strip clubs after games—both at home and on the road. But one incident in particular had caused quite a media sensation. And not in a positive way.

  The word shocked wasn’t descriptive enough to convey her reaction when she’d heard about his accident. The Tom she’d known and loved didn’t drink at all—even at the many p
arties they attended with their high school friends. When his buddies would rib him about it, he’d just smile and tell them his body was a temple and he wasn’t going to pollute it with alcohol. She’d always respected him for that, so when he wrapped his truck around a tree after driving drunk eight years ago she’d been both surprised and disappointed. He could have killed himself or someone else.

  No one knew better than she did the kind of damage a drunk driver could cause.

  She stepped onto the private elevator used only by Blaze employees, coaches and players who had business in the front office, but instead of hitting the button for the ground floor, she pressed the mezzanine-level button and waited as the elevator car noiselessly made its descent. When the doors slid open, she stepped into the small vestibule, then opened the door that led into the stadium.

  A member of the maintenance crew looked up from the trash can he was emptying and gave her a nod. “Evening, Ms. Whitton.”

  “Hi, Percy.” She smiled as she slung the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Anything new?”

  Percy pulled a fresh trash-can liner from his rolling cart and gave her a wide smile that revealed the small gap between his two front teeth. “As a matter of fact, there is. My son is on his way back from Afghanistan. He’ll be home in a few days.”

  “That’s great.” Relieved to hear the good news, Katherine moved toward him. “I know you’ve been worried about him. Is he home to stay?”

  “Yep. His tour of duty is over, and both me and the wife couldn’t be happier about it.”

  “You know, we have an Armed Forces Day coming up in September. Why don’t you come see me next week and I’ll make sure you and your family get some tickets.” She paused. “I seem to recall you telling me that Gary likes baseball.”

  “Grew up watching the Blaze.” Percy nodded. “I’m sure he’d appreciate being able to come out to a game. He’s always asking how the team is doing. Gets on the internet when he can to check the standings.”

  “You must be proud of him.”

  Percy’s chest swelled as he nodded. “That I am, Ms. Whitton. That I am.”

  A few minutes later, Katherine walked down the first-level steps and plopped down in one of the front row seats behind the Blaze dugout. Earlier today a raucous crowd had filled the ballpark, but now with the grounds crew gone, it was eerily silent. She stared at the huge electronic screen deep in center field and smiled. The score from today’s game hadn’t been cleared and it showed the Blaze had beaten the Pirates by two runs. That win, combined with both Dodgers and Padres losses, had moved the Blaze up in the standings by a game. Hopefully, the trend would continue.

  Ignoring the cool breeze that sifted through her hair, she surveyed the empty ballpark and breathed in the brine-scented air from the bay. In Texas football was king, but she’d always preferred baseball. Ever since she could remember, her father had lived and breathed the Rangers and rarely missed a home game. She’d attended many of those games, sitting next to him in the field-level seats, munching on peanuts and sipping Dr Pepper as he explained the intricacies of the game to her.

  Some of the best times in her life revolved around baseball. But baseball was also at the core of one of her most devastating experiences. When she’d arrived at Berkeley, the last thing she wanted was to be around the sport. But evidently it was in her blood. She’d jumped at the chance to intern for the Blaze each summer and hadn’t even considered turning down their job offer when she graduated.

  The sound of footsteps inside the dugout pulled her from her memories. With the game long over, it could only be the maintenance crew that cleaned the dugouts after a game. She grimaced. Between the sunflower seed shells and the wads of chewing tobacco spat out by the players, it had to be a disgusting task. The only job she could think of that might be more revolting was emptying a Porta-Potty, which thankfully, wasn’t an issue at Blaze Field.

  Katherine glanced at the time on the scoreboard and sighed. What were other thirty-something women doing after nine on a Saturday night? Not sitting alone in an empty ballpark, she knew that much.

  Suddenly, a lone figure emerged from the dugout, and she almost jumped out of her skin. Even with his back to her, she recognized Tom immediately. He’d changed out of the Blaze uniform he wore for each game and into a pair of faded jeans and sneakers. His broad shoulders were covered by a black sweatshirt, and damn if her heart didn’t beat a bit faster as he planted his hands on his lean hips and surveyed the field.

  Did he miss playing? Was that why he was staring at the field so intently? Or maybe, like her, there was something magical about a baseball diamond he couldn’t ignore. Why else was she drawn to this exact spot several times a week? Some people found peace by the ocean; she was at peace staring at the green grass that stretched across the outfield and the reddish-brown clay of the infield.

  Memories flooded back as she drank in the sight of him. Only thirteen and still reeling from the death of her mother the year before, she’d taken one look at the new boy in her homeroom and for the first time in a year she felt something other than sad. She felt alive. Just like she did right this second.

  Stop it, Katie. Don’t go there.

  That she once in a great while still thought of herself as Katie when she insisted on going by Katherine annoyed her. Katie was the past. Katherine was who she’d become the moment she stepped off the plane at Oakland International Airport seventeen years ago. Katie was the girl who had fallen hopelessly in love with Tom Morgan; Katherine was the woman she became when she’d lost him.

  Silently, she pushed herself out of the seat, and her pulse hammered in her head as she tiptoed up the concrete steps.

  “Running away?”

  She froze as Tom’s deep voice echoed loudly in the cavernous ballpark. Grasping the strap of her tote bag like a life preserver, she slowly turned to find him staring up at her from just outside the dugout.

  She lifted her chin. “No.”

  Damn it all. Why were her knees shaking?

  “You can’t avoid me forever.”

  She stiffened her shoulders. “I’m not avoiding you. We’ve worked together for almost three full seasons now. That’s hardly avoiding you.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Whatever. I’m glad I ran into you. There’s something we need to discuss.”

  “Whatever it is, we can talk about it tomorrow. It’s late.”

  “Fine. But don’t come storming down to my office tomorrow after you hear the rumors.”

  Katherine narrowed her eyes. “What rumors?”

  Tom looked around the ballpark, then moved to the side of the dugout, where he climbed the five steps to the security gate. The gate could only be opened by the security staff so he braced his hands on the top railing and, with athletic grace, vaulted over it.

  Her heart pounded double time as he moved toward her and came to a halt on the step below the one she was standing on. For several seconds neither of them spoke, but unlike when they were younger and deeply in love, the silence was far from comfortable.

  “What rumors are you talking about?” She broke the tense impasse in a hushed tone. “Is it something to do with Rick?”

  “No.” Tom’s voice was equally low. “It’s about the team. About ten minutes ago I heard from a reputable source that Mrs. McCandless is thinking of selling the Blaze.”

  Chapter Four

  “Ava McCandless is selling the team?” Stunned, Katherine repeated Tom’s words just to make sure she’d heard them correctly. “Are you serious?”

  “Trust me. That’s not something I’d make up.”

  “Who told you?”

  A sly smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. “Let’s just say I have a well-placed source within Mrs. McCandless’s inner circle.”

  “Doug?”

  He shook his head. “They’re not that close.”

  “Who, then?” she prodded. Could it be the owner’s administrative assi
stant, Caroline Kaplan? It was common knowledge Caroline didn’t care for the way Ava McCandless had swooped in after Simon McCandless’s death several months ago. She’d worked for Simon for years and had been devastated when he died unexpectedly from a heart attack. Many in the front office thought the widow would fire Caroline, but it seemed Mrs. McCandless was at least smart enough to know that Caroline was a valuable asset with a vast amount of knowledge, and because of that knowledge, she needed her.

  “Still as curious as ever, I see.” Tom grinned. “Sorry, darlin’. My lips are sealed. Besides, it doesn’t matter who told me. What’s important is if Widow McCandless does sell the team, all of us could be eighty-sixed right out of a job. I wanted you to be prepared. The new owner¸ or owners, may want to clean house. From Doug on down.”

  Katherine tugged at her lower lip with her teeth. This was troubling news. “Why? The Blaze organization has always been one of the best-run franchises in the league.”

  “New owners like to bring in their own people. People they trust. Hell, that’s why I brought Seth with me when I accepted the manager position.”

  “That’s common practice. I doubt the sale of the team would impact the front office staff. Department heads maybe, but not the lower-level staff.”

  Tom shifted and shoved his hands into his front pockets. “You’re a department head.”

  “I know. But I’m more concerned about my staff than I am about myself. And we just went through a layoff a while back. That was tough on everyone.” She glanced past him to the clock on the electronic scoreboard. “They’re fixin’ to turn the lights off soon. We should probably—” She paused as Tom let out a bark of laughter. “What’s so funny?”

  “Fixin’? Don’t look now but your Texas roots are showing.”