CHAPTER 1
JEFF
February
“That’s not going to work,” I mutter under my breath as the scouts at the other end of the table try to out shout each other about whose second baseman prospect is better.
The general manager catches my eye and surreptitiously shakes his head, as if to say,not now.
Yeah, no shit not now. They have nothing. We have nothing. We won the World Series two years ago, then our star slugger retired—takingmydaughter back to his ranch on the other side of the country, the fucker—and we lost our best pitcher to a year-ending surgery, so we traded away some of our best picks to shore up the bullpen. It didn’t save our next season, and our second baseman just walked into free agency.
We’re all out of magic beans to replace him.
Our baseball club is a mess.
Spring training starts in two weeks.
Fans know we’re a mess, so ticket sales have been sluggish.
We need to shake things up. And not in a tepid, hesitant way. We need a lightning strike of good luck.
My assistant of eight years, a deeply efficient woman named Helen, appears at my elbow with a fresh iced coffee for me. At some point when she realized that I rarely drank it while it was hot, she suggested that I switch to coffee that wasmeantto be drank cold.
She was right.
She’s always right, which is annoying, because I don’t want to be the type of man who is made better by havingstaff. None of the coaches I had while I was a player had a personal assistant. It’s still not common to this day. But administrative stuff is not my forte at all. Helen had already been with the team for a number of years, working in the front office, and she fell into working directly for me by being extraordinarily helpful one too many times. She’s proven herself very useful over the years, even if she does like to lecture me about work-life balance.
Between her and my grown daughter, Sinclaire, it’s like a constant chorus of happily married women tut-tutting me for being chained to the job.
I drain half the cup of coffee, wincing at theheadache that’s started to pinch behind my eyes. The caffeine might not be able to touch that.
Helen silently hands me a pain pill as a knock at the door interrupts the scouting meeting.
Everyone else scowls, but I’m happy for the interruption. Or so I think, until the softest-, sweetest-looking temptation walks in the door and I know I’m well and truly fucked.
“Is this a bad time?” A young woman I’ve never see before scans the room, undeterred by the hostility in the air. She’s tall and stacked, with tits like small melons, hips that are begging to be squeezed, and a little belly that promises to jiggle if she’s bounced just right. Her long, wavy brown hair flows all the way to her waist, and her full lips are painted in a glossy raspberry lipstick that I immediately, viscerally want to see staining my cock.
I crush the paper cup of coffee in my hand, sloshing icy wet drops everywhere.
She winks at me—winks!—and nods sagely. “Definitely a bad time.”
I cough to cover up… what? Mywhere the fuck did you come fromreaction? My complete discombobulation? All of it. Fucking hell. “Who are you?”
“Molly Henderson. Public relations. I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s a lot to be done before spring training, and I’ve just started.”
“You’rethe new PR director?”
She shrugs. “No?”
“Is that a question?”
She laughs. Laughs! First there was a wink, and now when I bark at her, she laughs! “I mean, there are a lot of questions about this team’s readiness for the season,” she says lightly. “But no, I’m notthedirector. That position remains painfully unfilled. I am the new… person. Right now, literally, the sole person in the PR department, too junior to actually be named the director. Which is fine. But I am the only person making decisions—with input, of course.”
I’m speechless.
So is everyone else in the room.
She seems to like that. Her expression brightens. “Anyway! Just wanted to introduce myself. I’m going to have some fun and innovative ideas over the next two weeks to get butts in the seats before you all head over to the spring training facility, so we’re going to get to know each other real well.” She glances my way. “I have a great idea for you, Coach.”
