Stealing Second

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Stealing Second Page 10

by Alison Packard


  “You okay?” he asked, peering down at her with concern.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked in a voice too shaky for her liking.

  He leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. “I know you how much you hate to fly.”

  She looked past him at the flight attendant, who was starting to close the overhead bins in the back and was heading their way. “I’ll be fine when we’re in the air. You should probably get back to your seat. We’ll be taking off in a few minutes.”

  “Are you sure?” Tom searched her face. “You look pale.”

  “I was born pale. Remember?” She threw him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and nodded toward his seat. “Go buckle yourself in.”

  “Okay.” He put his hand on her arm. And for a moment it comforted her. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

  Easy for him to say.

  As Tom returned to his row, Katherine maneuvered herself into the middle seat of hers. After pulling the window shade closed, she buckled her safety belt, grabbed the airline’s laminated safety card from the magazine pocket in front of her and started reading. Or she pretended to read. By now, she knew the safety procedures so well she could recite them in her sleep.

  Over the dull roar of the engines, the hum of the players and coaches talking and laughing with each other barely registered. Nothing registered except the fact that in a few minutes she’d no longer be on solid ground. She’d be in the air with nothing but the pilot’s skill and two measly engines keeping them aloft.

  Once the flight attendants had secured the cabin and completed the mandatory seat belt and oxygen mask spiel, the plane pulled away from the gate with a slight jolt. Katherine stuffed the safety card back into its slot, sat back in her seat and gripped each armrest so tightly she was surprised she didn’t break her fingers, or the armrests.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  Obeying her inner voice, she closed her eyes and focused solely on inhaling and exhaling. This was the worst part. The taxiing to the runway. There was no turning back now. Unless she made a huge scene and delayed the flight so she could get off, she was stuck—stuck inside a tin can soon to be flying thousands of miles above the earth. She sucked in a deep breath and hated herself for being so weak. No one else on the plane appeared to be worried. Why was she? She’d flown many times and nothing bad had ever happened. Why couldn’t she get over the awful fear that every flight would be her last? And not in the good way.

  Intent on her breathing, she wasn’t aware of anyone next to her until a large warm hand closed over hers. She let out a surprised gasp and turned her head to find Tom sitting next to her.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded. “You’re not supposed to be out of your seat.”

  “I’m in a seat. This one.” He fished for the safety belt ends and quickly buckled himself in. “I couldn’t sit back there knowing you’re scared shitless.”

  “I’m—” she began, then was cut off by the pilot announcing over the intercom system that they were second in line for takeoff. She closed her eyes and tried to stop her knees from trembling.

  “Look at me.” Tom’s hand covered hers again.

  “No.” She kept her eyes tightly shut.

  “Katie. Look at me,” he commanded softly.

  “I don’t want to talk right now.”

  “It’ll help. Remember the summer before senior year when we drove down to Port Aransas?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, but still didn’t open her eyes. Takeoff was easier to handle if she couldn’t see anything. “It was a long drive.”

  “Eight hours at least.”

  “It didn’t seem that long.” A smile curved her lips as she turned her head toward him.

  “That’s because you slept the first three hours.”

  “You picked me up at four in the morning.” She opened her eyes and smiled. “I was tired.”

  “Do you know how long three hours is without someone to talk to or music to listen to?” Amusement quirked his mouth. “Not to mention that drive is boring as hell. At least until you get to Austin.”

  “How did you survive?” she asked teasingly.

  “I kept imagining you in a bikini.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “I don’t know how you talked me into going to the beach. I never fail to burn.” She smiled in remembrance. “I did appreciate you renting that big umbrella for me, though.”

  “It was the least I could do. I’ve seen you sunburned and it’s not pretty.” His hand tightened over hers as the plane moved again and she tensed. “Remember the dolphins that swam next to the ferry we took to Mustang Island? And that park where we listened to the live band?”

  She nodded, momentarily distracted from the vibrations of the airplane. “I loved that band. I didn’t know I liked reggae music until we went down there. Now when I hear it, it always reminds me of that trip.”

  “For me, it’s sunsets. Every night we were there we took a walk on the beach and watched the sun go down.” He searched her face. “The only thing more beautiful was you.”

  Her heart started to pound. And not because the plane was making its turn toward the runway. No. It was the intensity in Tom’s eyes. And the memory of that idyllic trip.

  “What were we thinking?” she said with a shake of her head. “We were crazy to go down there without anyone knowing about it. What if something had happened to us? We were only seventeen.”

  “We were in love and we wanted to be alone with each other. We weren’t thinking of anything other than that.”

  Just then the plane accelerated, gaining speed at an alarming rate. She let out a soft whimper and twined her fingers with his. She hoped he didn’t mind that her palms were moist with nervous sweat. “I hate this part,” she whispered.

  “It’ll be over in two shakes.” His voice was low and soothing. Hearing it calmed her. “Hang on to me and you’ll be fine.”

  He seemed so confident. She didn’t want to be the one to tell him that if the plane went down, neither of them would be fine.

  “That was the best vacation I’ve ever been on,” she said, gripping his hand like a vise as the plane whined, then shook mightily as it ascended into the air.

  “Same here, darlin’.” His gaze dipped to her mouth and lingered for several seconds. A heated flush engulfed her. Port Aransas was where they’d made love for the first time. It was years ago, but at this moment it was as if it were yesterday. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears and she fought against the natural urge to bridge the gap between them and kiss him. “We’re in the air,” he said, and squeezed her hand. The intimate moment passed.

  Katherine exhaled a breath as giddy relief washed over her. It wouldn’t last long, but she’d gotten through takeoff. The landing she’d worry about later.

  “I haven’t been on a plane since the All-Star game,” she said, still aware of his protective hand gloving hers. “Thank you for sitting with me.”

  Tom shrugged. “I’m glad I could help. If you want, I can sit with you until we land.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that. You probably have a ton of work to do.”

  “Yes. But I can do it in this seat as easily as the other one.” He flashed an easygoing grin. “Besides, I couldn’t get any work done knowing you’re sitting here worrying that—”

  “Don’t say it.” She lifted her free hand and made a zip-it motion over her lips. “Don’t even think it.”

  * * *

  Tom was in no mood to deal with Trey Gentry. Actually, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone. Period. After an early morning flight and a game that went into extra innings, the only thing he wanted right now was to get to his room, order dinner and grab some shut-eye. But because he’d made it clear to the players from the beginning of his tenure that he had an open-door policy, he couldn’t very well ignore the polite request from his star pitcher for a private sit-down after the game.

  As he strode across the hotel’s lobby, he saw Katie heading toward the elevators with Dorie and L
ily. Her radiant smile didn’t help his mood one bit. Just when he thought they had established a truce of sorts on the plane, she’d reverted right back to cool indifference once they’d landed at Denver International Airport.

  He’d never figure women out.

  As hotel lobbies went, this one was spacious, with couches and chairs grouped in various configurations in the expansive area to afford guests some measure of privacy if needed. He wasn’t surprised to see Trey sitting in the far corner near a square pillar that prevented him from being seen by those entering the hotel. With his immense popularity, it wasn’t unusual when the Blaze were on the road for fans to track him down at wherever the team was staying. And while performing his nightly curfew check, Tom had found more than one woman prowling the halls looking for Trey. Being Trey Gentry might seem like a dream come true for most guys, but the real truth was, being a celebrity had its downside.

  Although Trey’s ego had tripled in size since his rookie year, and lately he’d been a pain in the ass, there were still times when he remembered the manners his parents instilled in him, and as Tom approached, he rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Thanks for meeting with me, Skipper.”

  Tom shook Trey’s hand, then motioned for him to sit. Tom sat on the tan chair adjacent to the one Trey occupied and got comfortable. “Are you preparing for Tuesday?” he asked. Since Trey started the previous night’s game in San Francisco, his spot in the rotation wouldn’t come up until the team got to Phoenix.

  “I’m throwing bull pen tomorrow. Seth wants to work on some mechanics. Specifically my leg kick. We think that’s what was out of whack last night.” Trey fell silent and ran his fingers through his shaggy blond hair. Then he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees and stared morosely at the carpet. At the moment he was a far cry from the overconfident player who’d been strutting around the clubhouse like the cock of the walk for the past two seasons.

  “What’s on your mind?” Tom asked after several silent seconds.

  Trey lifted his head. “I need your advice.”

  Tom wasn’t surprised by Trey’s request. Being a manager wasn’t unlike being a counselor. It wasn’t uncommon for his players to come to him and ask him for his opinion—on a variety of subjects. Mostly they just wanted someone to talk to, and to listen to them. And Tom made it a point to always listen. “What can I help you with?”

  “I’m being stalked.”

  That got Tom’s attention. “Stalked. By whom?” he asked, shifting forward slightly.

  Trey hesitated a beat. “The boss lady.”

  “Ava McCandless?”

  “Yep.”

  “When you say stalked, what do you mean exactly?”

  “It started at the All-Star game in July. She cornered me in the hotel elevator and asked me if I wanted to go up to her room with her. I wasn’t interested, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, or worse, make her angry. She’s the owner now.”

  Tom’s gut tightened. Had the woman never heard of sexual harassment? “What did you do?”

  “I told her I was flattered, but that it wasn’t a good idea considering she’d recently lost her husband.”

  “So you didn’t come right out and say you weren’t interested?” Not that it mattered. The fact that Trey hadn’t returned her interest should have nipped the situation in the bud.

  “Like I said. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She’s around the same age as my mom.” His grimace was almost comical. “That’s too weird.”

  “You said she’s stalking you. I take it, then, there’ve been other occasions when she’s approached you?”

  “Yes. Four times total. The last being the night of Scanlon’s engagement party.” Trey hesitated. “I usually hit Kamu’s after home games, but I knew the party was there and since Scanlon and I aren’t the best of friends, I thought it would be awkward. So Rizzo, Espinoza and I made the rounds of a couple of places after the game and ended up at the bar at the Marriott. After Riz and Espo left, I texted a friend and asked her if she wanted some company. While I was waiting for the bill, Ava McCandless appeared out of nowhere and suggested we get a room in the hotel.”

  “And when you turned her down again, she got angry,” Tom said, thinking of what Katie had told him.

  “That’s about the size of it. But this time she said I was making a big mistake and that I’d be sorry.” Trey heaved a sigh. “The thing is, I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about her while we were on the road. But I heard from one of the guys that she’s here in Denver. If she comes on to me again, I need to know how to handle it without insulting her.”

  Tom rubbed his jaw and thought about it for a few seconds. “First, you’ve done the right thing in coming to me about the situation. And now that you have, I’ll have to talk to Human Resources.”

  “Human Resources?” Trey’s eyes widened in alarm. “Why do they have to be involved?”

  “Because it’s the law. And like in any business, as your immediate supervisor I’m required to report it.”

  Annoyance twisted his mouth. “I thought you could tell her to back off and that would be that.”

  “Trey, if I don’t report it and she continues to harass you, I’m as liable as she is. I can’t, in good conscience, not alert Human Resources to her actions. It would be irresponsible, and frankly, I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror if I didn’t.”

  Trey’s expression changed to one of apprehension. Despite his fame, he was still young. He’d never dealt with a woman like Ava McCandless before. A woman who—in a very short period of time—had managed to marry a man twenty-two years her senior and convince him to make her a co-owner of his team before he died. “What’s going to happen?”

  “I’m not sure,” Tom answered truthfully. “But I don’t want you to worry about it. Just concentrate on your job and I’ll take care of it. And if Mrs. McCandless approaches you again, do your best not to engage with her and let me know immediately.”

  Worry clouded Trey’s eyes. “I can’t believe this. Why is she fixated on me?”

  Tom had a pretty good idea why. Now that Simon was dead, Ava didn’t have to concern herself with being circumspect. When she’d propositioned him, he’d let her know in no uncertain terms he wasn’t interested, and Matt had probably done the same. If she’d pursued either of them while Simon was alive, word would have gotten back to Simon and he more than likely would have divorced her. She couldn’t risk losing Simon and the lifestyle she’d become accustomed to. Not to mention a shot at inheriting a multimillion-dollar Major League Baseball franchise. Now she was in charge and thought she could get away with doing whatever the hell she wanted.

  She thought wrong.

  * * *

  When the knock sounded on her door, Katherine was immersed in her favorite guilty pleasure. Until recently, the only game she had downloaded on her phone was Scrabble. Now she rarely played the word game and spent her downtime playing her new favorite. She wasn’t majorly addicted, but she could certainly see how it was possible to forget everything else and get lost in the world of Crazy Hearts.

  Pushing up from the king-sized bed, she kept playing as she padded to the door. “Who is it?” She’d learned a long time ago that when traveling it paid to be careful.

  “It’s me. We’ve got a problem.”

  She recognized Tom’s voice and quickly unlocked and opened the door with one hand. One look at his grim expression told her he wasn’t joking. She pulled the door wider and allowed him to enter.

  “What’s going on?” She closed the door and turned to find he’d moved to the far side of the room to stare out at the lights of downtown Denver. She set her phone on the sleek dark dresser and waited. She tried to keep her apprehension at bay, but it wasn’t Tom’s style to come to her with minor problems.

  “I just spoke to Trey,” he said, and turned to face her. “He asked me for advice on how to deal with Ava McCandless.”

  “Deal with her?” She frowned. “Why?” />
  “Evidently she wants to make him her latest boy toy, and he’s not interested. She’s not getting the hint.”

  Katherine put a hand to her chest as dread pooled in her stomach. “I had a feeling that might be what was going on.”

  “I need your advice.” Tom ran a hand through his hair. “I have to report this to Human Resources, but do I do it now? Or do I wait until we get back to San Francisco?”

  “The first thing you need to do is document your conversation with Trey.” She moved toward him and pointed at the table by the window. “Sit down. I can access our intranet site and download one of the forms for you.”

  “Thank you,” he said as he pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. Taking the other chair, she opened her laptop and powered it on. “I’m sorry to bother you with this,” he said. “Did I interrupt anything important?”

  She shook her head as she logged on. “It’s no bother. I was just playing a game on my phone.”

  “So that’s what you high-powered executives do in your time off.” Amusement tinged his voice. “I’ve always wondered about that.”

  “It’s better than sitting at a bar drinking,” she said, more sharply than she intended. She glanced up and found him looking at her with puzzled eyes. “Sorry. That wasn’t directed toward you.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “It sounded like it was.”

  “It wasn’t.” Her face grew hot under his direct stare. “Let me pull up that form for you,” she said to alleviate the sudden tension in the room. She navigated to the human resources section of the organization’s intranet site and selected the proper documentation form. Once it downloaded, she saved it to her documents folder, then slid the laptop toward Tom.

  “Has anyone seen Ava yet?” she asked, after he’d completed the form and saved the file.

  “I heard she was in one of the skyboxes watching the game with the Rockies’ bigwigs. But where she is now is anyone’s guess.”

  “Do you think she’s here because of Trey? Perhaps her presence has something to do with the sale of the Blaze. Maybe there’s a potential investor in the Denver area.”

 

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