Sheila noticed for the first time the hint of dark circles under Harper’s eyes. She’d covered them well with makeup, but no shadows completely disappeared. Her worn expression said even more about the weight she carried as the owner of the newest team in the MLB.
Sheila’s need to nurture rose up. “What can I do?”
David leaned forward. “We’d like you to come up with a plan to fill the stadium at least three times in the month of October. Tickets can be cheap—five bucks each should cover operating costs. We’ll make the money we need to pay the loan in concessions.”
Sheila’s heart hammered. “You want me to fill a baseball stadium without a baseball game?”
They both nodded. She blinked several times, her mind going completely blank.
“You’re a person who has big ideas. I know you can do this.” Harper’s smile seemed watered down. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe what she said; it was the stress that weakened the gesture.
Sheila’s mind had ground to a halt. Big ideas? It would be nice if she could string a couple of words together right now, let alone a way to put butts into the seats. She glanced at David. “And you’re okay with me overseeing this?” Something of this magnitude would normally fall to him or one of his assistant marketing specialists—he had four.
He nodded easily. “We’re knee deep in spring training plans already. We need you to take this on.”
She put her hands on her knees and pushed to standing. “Okay, then. I’ll get started first thing in the morning.”
Harper also stood. This time, her smile was a bit stronger, and Sheila took comfort in the fact that she’d already helped in a small way by accepting the responsibility. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
Me too.Sheila shook hands all around and said her goodbyes. In the hall, she texted Ashley to meet her the next morning at Brookie’s, a local bakery that specialized in loading their sweets with as much chocolate as possible. She was going to need a jolt of goodness to get her creativity going.
She was still staring at her phone waiting for an answer when the elevator doors whooshed open in the lobby, allowing the band’s version of “Don’t Be Cruel to a Heart That’s True” to fill the small space. She walked off, not paying attention to what or whom was in front of her because she was mentally willing Ashley to reply. The woman practically lived on her phone, and the one time Sheila needed her to respond, she didn’t. Right as she lifted her head to watch where she was going, she slammed into Brock. He wrapped an arm around her back to keep her from bouncing off his solid chest.
“Oh.” She gasped at the feel of his muscles beneath her left hand. Her right still clutched her phone.
Brock grinned, took her right hand, and spun her out in a Frank Sinatra/Ginger Rogers move. Without missing a beat, he pulled her back in. His eyes gleamed with mischief.
“Have you been drinking?” she asked.
“What? No!”
Her phone dinged, and they both looked at the screen.
Brookie’s at 8 a.m. I’ll be there.
“Big date?” he asked, his hand still on the small of her back, keeping her from escaping.
Not that she was trying all that hard. Being in Brock’s arms was rather nice, comforting. Like he could hold her up even though she’d been bowled over by this new assignment. The time constraints alone were enough to lose some serious sleep over. Yet this wasBrock. The guy who thought doing her job was akin to stealing money from widows.
She pushed against his chest without answering, needing out of the swirly-twirly haze that had grown around them and the muffled sounds in the crowded room. Not to mention they were surrounded by their coworkers. She didn’t need rumors to start about her and a player—even if that player was extremely hot and amazing with children. She’d thought of little else besides the sweet exchange between him and Elizabeth as she drifted off to sleep every night since their visit over a week ago. The image was oddly soothing.
She needed to get out of here. Not only was snuggling a coworker bad for her image, but he had a date with Kelly this week. Her hormones screeched to a halt at the thought of her sister in this very spot. She threw her hands in the air and retreated. She wouldnotgo after the same guy as her sister and start Sister War III. Sister War I had been ugly, but Sister War II almost destroyed the family.
If Kelly wanted Brock, she could have him.
He let her go and ran a hand through his beach waves, making her think that she’d like to run her hands through that thick, dreamy hair. She barely managed to hold back her lusty sigh. “What does the outreach specialist do in the off-season? I guess you don’t get the next four months off.”
“Nope. I’ll be here. Working, working, working.” Did that sound as dumb out loud as it did in her head?”Gag! Gather your wits,girl. Sheila flipped her bangs off her forehead. “Have a great off-season,” she said with a dismissive smile.
“I will.” He smiled back, his posture shifting to match her own. He entered the elevator.
The moment the doors shut, it was like she could breathe again, and she gasped for air.Dang, it smelled like Brock, all freshly showered and sprayed down with those manly sprays men use to lure hordes of women to them. She pressed her hand over her belly, where the butterflies were having panic attacks. She’d be a goner for that scent for the rest of her life.
Darn that Brock! If he was going to date her sister, he should learn to keep his arms and his man spray to himself.
Brookie’s was the kind of bakery that liked you to pull out a chair and stay a while. They had padded seats, padded booths, free refills on coffee and soda, and a display case twelve feet long full of the most delectable desserts imaginable. Sheila was already eyeing up the triple fudge brownie with fudge topping and white chocolate swirls for after they came up with an amazing plan to open the stadium in October. At the rate ideas were flowing, she’d never get that cake.
She dug her hands into her hair and leaned her elbows on the table. “Think! Gah, why is this so hard? We have an entire stadium at our disposal.”
