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  “Looks like they might just make the playoffs.” Reggie vocalized what she was thinking.

  “And we go back to Dallas again in about three weeks,” Amanda commented, thinking it would be her last opportunity to visit with her family for a while.

  They didn’t say much for the rest of the game, Reggie appearing to read her need for space. But when the Rays won the game, they cheered together and hugged one another.

  Amanda hit the locker room in the rush of reporters. She usually hung back and waited until the crowd thinned out. But not this time. Tonight her emotions over Brad were raw and she needed the security of the mass to protect her.

  She made her way through the twenty or so reporters around her, trying to pick an interview victim. Unfortunately, her eyes landed on Tony, who stood buck naked as he dried his back with the towel previously around his waist. All this time and she still hadn’t gotten used to the blitz of bare butts.

  Tony appeared unaffected by his nakedness, fielding questions from three male reporters, one of whom was Jack. Unwilling to be intimidated by Tony’s state of undress, Amanda worked her way into the group, a small tape recorder in her hand.

  Chin tilted upward to keep her gaze on target, Amanda asked, “The pitchers walked you tonight, only two home runs from your record. What do you have to say about that?”

  Jack stood directly across from her. “It’s been asked.”

  “I’m asking again,” Amanda said through clenched teeth.

  Apparently, Tony didn’t mind answering and he launched into a five-minute rant. Take that, Jack Ass. When Tony finally calmed, Amanda moved on, searching for her next victim. She locked gazes with Brad, who stood far too close.

  For several seconds, Amanda froze, mesmerized by the man who’d gotten under her skin and refused to leave. The activity around them slipped into the distance and she searched his gaze for answers on why he’d suddenly gone cold. He gave her nothing in that look. Nothing to hint at what he felt. And, lord help her, as much as she’d hoped to snub Brad, she felt his attention in every inch of her body. If only she had an On-Off button.

  Someone asked Brad a question and he gave the reporter his focus. Amanda forced herself to scan the rest of the room for another interview.

  She decided to talk to Casey, always an easy mark for conversation. “You see the follow-up interview Jack did with me?” he asked.

  “I did,” Amanda said. “Good stuff.”

  He lowered his voice, his tone flirtatious. “I’d like a real interview with you. One without references to Brad and garters. Something more personal. Just about me.”

  “Soon,” she said, regretting her choice to chat with him. She wasn’t up to his flirtation and games.

  “Tonight,” he said. “I’ll buy you a drink at the after party.”

  She was going to make the briefest of appearances at the party, get what she needed, and be gone. “Not that soon.” When he appeared ready to argue, she added, “Soon, though. I promise. I’ll make the garter thing up to you. Let me think of an angle that will really make you shine and we’ll set it up.” She pretended to wave at someone behind him. “I need to run.” She darted away.

  Player after player, Amanda worked the room, determined to finish her job before the crowd cleared and she ended up in an awkward situation with Brad. She couldn’t avoid him forever, but she sure could tonight.

  Amanda waited until four reporters surrounded him and approached. Questions flowed one after another while she remained silent. Everything that came to Amanda’s mind seemed like a betrayal of a confidence she had with Brad. Then a reporter asked Brad the same question she would have, if this had been anyone but Brad. “Can we expect you back with the Rays next year?”

  “Right now, expect me on the mound. I can’t tell you what colors I’ll be wearing.”

  Amanda knew in that moment she had a job to do. She couldn’t hold back because she’d slept with Brad. She cleared her throat and decided to go for it. “When can we expect to know?”

  His attention zeroed in on Amanda, his tone sharp. “Right after I know.”

  “Who are your top prospects?” another reporter asked, following her lead.

  “That’s not something I’m willing to discuss just yet.” He let his gaze travel from the person he was addressing back to Amanda. “But what I can tell you is this. I’m focused on my career. Dedicated and ready to be a leader wherever I play.”

  She knew he was talking to her, telling her what he didn’t have the balls to tell her in private. He had to focus on his career, not her. Amanda smiled and she made sure it was big one. “Well,” she said, “that’s good news to those of us who prefer the idea of seeing you on the field rather than off.”

  Shock registered on his handsome face. She’d scored her own point. No way was she letting this too-confident and cowardly man know what he meant to her. She stood her ground for the other questions, enjoying the discomfort she sensed in him.

  She had a job to do, a dream of her own to achieve. Brad Rogers was not going to stop her. She wasn’t giving up anything over a pitcher who just happened to know her strike zone.

  20

  THREE WEEKS LATER, they were back in Dallas for the first round of playoffs. Amanda walked into the café of the hotel where she and the team were staying, preparing to face the firing squad called her sister. She’d been avoiding Kelli for two days now.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Kelli. It was more that she didn’t want to deal with the emotions that would surface when she was with Kelli. Her sister had a way of seeing through her toughest shell. And right now, Amanda needed to maintain the thick wall she’d erected.

  Knowing Kelli would be checking out her attire, Amanda had selected her outfit carefully. She went with a pair of casual Ralph Lauren navy pants and a matching shell with a sporty half-sleeve jacket. And, of course, she wore heels. Navy with white trim.

  Amanda had barely hit the door of the restaurant when she heard her name called out. Searching for the source, she found Kurt sitting at a table of about ten players. Brad sat beside him. Amanda raised a hand, intending to go on her own way, but Kurt motioned her forward.

  She couldn’t avoid Brad forever and the very fact that she wanted to made her mad at herself. Nevertheless, she stopped on the same side of the table as him rather than facing him head-on. She could feel his eyes on her.

  Tony patted a chair beside him. “Come on over to my sweet spot, darlin’.” Tony had been quite amused over her sweet spot headline and he used every opportunity to use the phrase in conversation.

  “As tempting as that offer is, Tony,” she said, “I’m meeting my sister for breakfast.”

  “We can pull up another chair,” Kurt suggested. He stood and grabbed a chair, positioning it opposite Brad and next to an available seat. “Sorry, Tony. The ladies are with me.”

  Amanda stiffened her spine and decided to work through her discomfort. She refused to let Brad mess with her head. Besides, this was a sign of acceptance. The team seemed to be allowing her into their inner circle.

  She sat. “I’m warning you guys. My sister is going to work you over.”

  The guys laughed and made boastful comments about their ability to handle any woman. Amanda smiled to herself. They had no idea what they were up against with Kelli. As if on cue, Kelli appeared at the door. Amanda acknowledged her with the lift of her hand.

  Kelli waved back and made her way over. Dressed in a red halter-style dress, Kelli looked casual, sexy and confident. Several whistles sounded around the table, and Amanda rolled her eyes.

  She stood and hugged her sister. Then, Kelli assessed the table of men. “Well, hello, gentlemen.” Murmured replies followed as she sat and smiled at both Kurt and Brad. “Great game last night.”

  “I take it you like baseball?” Kurt asked.

  “I like baseball players,” she said.

  “Kelli’s a sports medicine doctor. She treats a lot of baseball players,” Amanda
said.

  “I take good care of my players.” Kelli eyed Kurt with a flirtatious smile. “I happen to know a few members of your competition quite well.”

  Kurt laughed at that. “Do you, now?”

  “I know their weak spots,” Kelli added, then took a sip of her water. “Of course, that’s privileged information. You’ll have to beat the Rangers all by yourselves.” She turned to Amanda. “I have a surprise.” She reached her oversize purse and removed a copy of L.A. Woman.

  “How did you get this?” Amanda asked, accepting the magazine. “Is it even on shelves yet?”

  “Tomorrow. I pulled a few strings to get it early. You look gorgeous, by the way, and the story inside is great.” Kelli winked. “Daddy wants you to autograph it for him.”

  Amanda glanced up in time to catch a hint of a smile on Brad’s face. She knew from Kelli that her father had hit up Brad for his autograph. Apparently they’d gotten along well. Hearing that from Brad would have been nice.

  “Are you going to show us or what?” Kurt asked.

  Amanda passed the magazine around. She hadn’t told anyone, but L.A. Woman had offered her a job. She’d declined, thinking the newspaper was where she wanted to be. But seeing the magazine, and given the awkwardness she’d felt during this trip, not to mention the constant pressure to achieve from Kevin despite her successes, she wasn’t so sure that it had been the right choice.

  The magazine was handed to Brad. He stared at the cover a moment before his eyes lifted to Amanda’s. “Congratulations.”

  Their gazes held for several seconds. She wanted so badly to understand what was going on with him, with them. “Thank you,” she said.

  Somehow, she managed to smile and converse through breakfast, acting as though Brad was just another ballplayer. The facade lasted until she walked her sister to her car.

  “What is going on with you and Brad?” Kelli demanded the minute they were alone.

  “Nothing. Nothing is going on.”

  “Amanda, this is me you’re talking to. Your sister, who knows you like she knows herself. The awkwardness between the two of you was thick enough to have its own chair. I got the impression you two were a hot item when he was at my office. And so did Dad.”

  What could Amanda say? “Well, we’re not.”

  Kelli reached over to push hair out of Amanda’s eyes. “What happened, sweetie?”

  “Nothing.” Amanda tried to laugh, but the sound came out sort of choked. “We had a quick, hot—really hot—roll in the sheets. I made a stupid mistake that could have ruined my career.”

  “Ah, sweetie. You fell hard, didn’t you?”

  Amanda nodded, confessing to the only person in the world she dared. “I’m such a fool. You warned me off ballplayers.”

  “No. Not a fool. We don’t always have a choice over who we fall for. Our hearts do the picking. How does Brad feel about you?”

  “We’re over, so it’s irrelevant. I just want to forget about it all now.”

  “He trusted you with his injury. I know pro athletes and that’s big.”

  “I suppose.” She shrugged. “I’ve been around you and Daddy enough to spot an injured player. I guessed.”

  “You didn’t have proof. He could have denied he was hurt.”

  “I slept with him, Kelli. I didn’t want anyone to know. He doesn’t want anyone to know about his arm. We have dirty little secrets neither wants spread. That’s not trust. It’s blackmail.”

  Kelli opened her mouth and shut it again, seeming to reconsider what she’d been about to say. “If you need to talk, you know where I am.”

  “I do.” Amanda hugged her.

  Right now, though, she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t even want to think about Brad. She wanted to put him behind her.

  Besides, she’d come up with an idea on what to do with the steroid story. She was interviewing Casey later today and he’d agreed to give her a candid interview about the pressure of going from the minors to the majors. If she couldn’t beat Jack to the steroid story, she could be the one to bring up the forbidden topic first. She was going to ask Casey about the things he’d seen, no names required. She’d do this story in a way that promoted a drug-free sport.

  And if that didn’t make Kevin happy, Amanda had to start accepting that she might not be the right person for this job.

  LATE IN THE AFTERNOON of the team’s final day in Dallas, Brad sauntered into the hotel after his acupuncture appointment. He’d be pitching tonight and he wanted to be at his best, especially with the encouraging news he’d gotten from his agent earlier. Mike reported several conversations in progress regarding Brad’s contract. None of them were with the Rays, but Mike planned to let the team owner know there was competitive interest in Brad, with the intention to apply pressure to re-sign him. It was a relief that teams were seeking him because all the pressure to perform, coupled with all the secrets, was wearing on him.

  He spotted Kurt in the sports bar to his right. Or rather heard him. Kurt was talking loudly, pointing at the television and laughing with the bartender.

  Brad walked over, noting one of the playoff games was the focus of attention. No wonder Kurt was being rowdy. A few steps inside the bar, Brad stopped in his tracks. In the back corner booth, Amanda was sitting with Becker. Alone.

  Everything inside him went cold. Seeing Amanda, wanting her, but not touching her, had been one of the hardest feats he’d ever accomplished. Seeing her in that booth, cozy with Becker, damn near tore Brad up inside. The urge to charge forward and claim what was his overwhelmed him.

  But she wasn’t his. The sound of snapping fingers drew his attention to Kurt, who motioned Brad over. Suddenly, he realized he was standing in the middle of the bar making a total ass of himself staring at Amanda.

  He scrubbed his jaw as he sat on the bar stool next to Kurt. “They’ve been here about an hour,” Kurt said, without being asked, his voice low, his tone serious.

  “I didn’t ask,” Brad said, grabbing a peanut from the bowl in front of him and cracking the shell because he needed to do something with the tension threatening to overwhelm him.

  “But you wanted to know,” Kurt said. “We both know you wanted to.”

  Brad tossed the shell on the bar. “I decided weeks ago to tune out Becker. I’ve got more important things to worry about than him or some stupid bet.”

  “I see,” Kurt said. “More important than Amanda, too, I guess. You know, sitting on the sideline, as I’m doing, gives a clear perspective. If you don’t get your head out of your ass real fast, she’s going to be gone.”

  Brad’s gut tightened. He knew Kurt was right. He also knew that if he went to Amanda again, there would be no backing out. No question about it. The next go round would be for keeps.

  He needed to work this out in his own time, though. He couldn’t talk with Kurt about it, even as much as he trusted him.

  “Mike has contract talks rolling,” Brad said, changing the subject to one he could discuss with Kurt. “Not with the Rays, but he feels that’s coming soon.”

  “So why don’t you seem happy?”

  “I need surgery on my arm again.” Brad went on to explain the details. “So, here is the dilemma. How can I sign a new contract and not tell them about my arm? For a long time I thought that I’d come back from the last surgery too soon and that once I’d rested, I’d be good. Now, I know better.”

  “It’s freaking amazing how well you’ve pitched through this,” Kurt said.

  “Acupuncture, man. Amanda’s sister has me hooked for life.”

  “The fact that Amanda knows about all of this says a lot,” Kurt commented. “I know. Bad subject.” He held up a hand to forestall whatever Brad might have said.

  Kurt drummed his fingers on the bar. “You’re right, you know,” he said. “It’s a dilemma. I mean, let’s face it. They treat us like commodities. It’s about money and performance. Nothing else.”

  “That’s exactly what management is all about. G
reedy bastards.”

  “And that’s who you’re dealing with here. Part of me says, screw it, don’t say a word until after the deal’s done and then they’ll have to cope. Especially since you’re feeling the prognosis is good, and your pitching is damn good right now.” He sighed. “But then there’s the other part of me—the part that still hears my mama’s lectures about doing what’s right—that says, speak up.”

  Brad took it all in, thankful he’d talked to Kurt. Just telling someone felt good.

  It had felt good telling Amanda, too. Having her to share his struggles had given him a boost and helped his perspective. But she was gone now. Without consciously doing so, Brad looked toward her table, hoping for a glimpse of one of her smiles. Unfortunately, Becker looked up at that moment. The kid smiled and waved, a satisfied expression on his face. Damn it, right now the kid had everything he wanted. Becker had his whole career in front of him and he had Amanda by his side.

  Brad sat back, startled by that thought. He realized the truth that had been nudging at him. He wanted—no, needed—more than another five years in the game. He needed Amanda by his side for the ride.

  Not sure what to do with this new information, he pushed to his feet and gave Kurt a nod. “Check you later, man.”

  Brad needed some time alone to think.

  21

  AMANDA WOKE UP one morning groggy and disoriented. Where was she? Right. Chicago. Second round of the playoffs. She stumbled to her hotel room door and grabbed the paper that had been slid underneath. She plopped down on the bed and reached for the phone, intent on ordering coffee. But the front page of the entertainment section distracted her before she could place her order. There was a huge picture of Tony with a woman hanging all over him.

  “Hello?”

  Amanda realized she was still holding the phone. “Oh. Yes. Hello. I mean, I’ll call back.”

  She dropped the receiver on the base and pressed her hand to her forehead. Jack’s conversation with Laura in the L.A. airport rushed through Amanda’s mind. He’d set Tony up. She bet a million bucks he was behind those photos. He’d been out partying with the guys almost nightly, so he’d had plenty of opportunity. And he’d promised Laura he would prove Tony was no good.