Stealing Second Read online

As he expected, Tom had found himself roped into a conversation with Cal Whitton and Carlton Sprigg after the press conference, and when he left the media room he couldn’t help but congratulate himself on his professionalism. Not once during their discussion had he displayed his true feelings toward Cal Whitton.

  Luckily, Sprigg did most of the talking, and even Tom could appreciate the irony of the situation when Carlton had sung his praises in front of Katie’s father. As long as Carlton had a vote, Tom was fairly certain he didn’t need to worry about losing his job when the new regime took over. The odd thing about the conversation, though, was that Tom hadn’t sensed any covert animosity toward him from Cal. If anything, Cal seemed distracted and kept glancing toward Katie, who, from all appearances, was ignoring them both.

  As he walked into the bustling clubhouse, the electricity generated by the players and the coaching staff was palpable. The reason: the team’s fiercest rivals, the Los Angeles Dodgers, were in town for a four-game series. Over the past two weeks, the Blaze had been on a hot streak, and now trailed the Dodgers by only two games in the division. If they could sweep the series, the Blaze would lead the national league western division for the first time all season.

  After a quick stop in the players’ lounge to get a bottle of water from the stocked refrigerator, Tom made his way to his office and stopped short at the sight of Katie standing in front of his oak desk. His pulse kicked into high gear, and for about three seconds all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her, but then the ghosts of the past chased the impulse away.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, then brushed past her and rounded his desk. He set the bottle of water down and watched her as she moved to the door and closed it.

  “I’m sick of you avoiding me,” she said, anger edging her tone as she turned to face him. “I didn’t appreciate you ordering me out of your office the last time I was here.” She moved closer to the desk and pinned him with a hard stare. “There was more I wanted to say to you, and I’d like to say it. Now.”

  “I’m listening.” He should have known avoiding her was a mistake. She’d always been slow to rile, but once she got to full-on anger, she was a force to be reckoned with.

  “It took me years to get over the guilt I felt after I lost the baby, and I’m not about to let you drag me back there. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I never said you did anything wrong.”

  “You implied it.” Her voice rose in frustration. “For God’s sake, Tom. I was eighteen, my hormones were all over the place and I was scared to death. You have no idea what I was going through.”

  “Right. Because you didn’t tell me. If you’d trusted me enough to talk to me, I would have told you that you weren’t alone. I would have done anything for you, Katie. Including marrying you. I loved you that much.”

  “That’s easy to say now, isn’t it? But I had no way of knowing how you would react. So if you’re expecting me to apologize to you for not following your timetable, then you can forget it.”

  “What about Phoenix?” he shot back. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

  “I thought about it, but I knew it would only hurt you. And after all these years, I didn’t think it would make a difference.” She sighed, then shook her head. “But I was wrong. You see it as a betrayal, when it wasn’t that at all.”

  “Then what was it?”

  “It was the past. A past we can’t change. No matter how much we might want to.” Sadness flickered in her eyes as she let out a soft sigh. “I thought we could recapture what we had back then, but it’s impossible, isn’t it? You’re always going to blame me for losing our baby,” she said, then moved to the door.

  “I don’t blame you,” he called after her automatically, but then wondered if—maybe—she was right.

  “Yes. You do. You just can’t admit it to yourself.” She opened the door, but before she crossed the threshold, she looked over her shoulder at him. “And in case I wasn’t clear, there’s no future for us.”

  Tom’s chest tightened and the room seemed to shrink, closing in on him. He tried to speak, to call out to Katie as she left his office, but the words wouldn’t budge past the boulder lodged in his throat. He stood there, frozen, for what seemed like hours, but was probably only seconds, and when he could finally breathe again, he sank down on his chair and stared at the empty space where Katie had been standing. He clenched his fists on the desk, and blinked back the moisture that suddenly filled his eyes.

  Son of a bitch. He’d lost the love of his life. Again.

  * * *

  Five days after she’d ended things with Tom, Katherine walked into Kamu’s and immediately spotted Adam Logan at the bar. To say she’d been surprised when he called her and asked her if she could meet with him as soon as possible, was an understatement. As far as she knew, they had no business to discuss. Leah Porter had signed her contract and would be reporting for work as the Blaze’s dedicated reporter in three weeks, and other than the ongoing Human Resources investigation of Ava’s harassment, Trey’s troubles appeared to be a thing of the past.

  “Hey,” she said, and smiled as she slid onto the empty bar stool next to Adam, who looked handsome, as usual, in his dark gray dress slacks and blue button-down shirt.

  “Hi.” He shifted on his stool and returned her smile. “Thanks for meeting me on such short notice.”

  “You were rather evasive on the phone; I had to satisfy my curiosity.” She set her purse on the mahogany bar. “What’s going on? You’re not going to tell me Leah’s changed her mind, are you?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that.” His gaze shifted, and he looked past her for a moment. “I have a surprise for you.”

  She put her hand on her chest. “For me?”

  “Turn around.” Adam grinned.

  Katherine turned, then gasped. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, and stared at the man she hadn’t seen in over two years. “Rick? Is it really you?”

  Rick Taylor’s eyes lit up as a boyish grin split his face. “Yes, ma’am. It’s really me.”

  “Don’t call me ma’am,” she scolded him, then laughed and slipped off of her stool to give him a hug. Two seconds later, she pulled back and gave him a quick once-over. Although he was the same age as Trey, the hardship and tragedy Rick had endured were etched clearly on his face, and he appeared older than his twenty-four years. Despite that, he was still as handsome as ever. Not surprisingly, though, there was a tinge of sadness in his dark brown eyes that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him.

  “What are you doing in San Francisco?” she asked.

  “I flew in to meet with Adam.” He surveyed the crowded restaurant with a slight smile. “Kamu’s hasn’t changed a bit.”

  “And it never will,” Katherine said, her heart clenching as the overhead light glinted off the wedding ring on Rick’s left hand—the same ring he’d worn the first time she met him, and his wife.

  In preparation for his rookie season, Rick and Jill had traveled to San Francisco to look for a place to live. Jill, in particular, was looking forward to the move because she’d never been out of the state of Texas. They’d been so happy, and deeply in love. But in less than a year, Jill was dead, and Rick had quit baseball. The day Katherine had learned of Jill’s death was one of the saddest days she had ever experienced working for the Blaze.

  Shaking off the painful memory, she pasted on a smile. “If you have time, why don’t you walk with me over to the ballpark? I know the team would love to see you.”

  “I’d like to see them too. And Kelly, if she’s around.” Rick looked at Adam. “Do we have time?”

  “Of course. I blocked out all day to meet with you,” Adam said, then smiled at Katherine and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Lead the way.”

  While Rick visited with several of his former teammates, and Kelly, in the clubhouse, Katherine sat with Adam in the players’ lounge. As much as she didn’t care to run into Tom, she was disappointe
d on Rick’s behalf that, due to an appointment he had this afternoon, Tom wouldn’t be at the ballpark until right before game time.

  “So how does it feel to know you’ll be working for your father in a few months?” Adam asked, then took a sip of the root beer he’d purchased from the vending machine.

  “I’m still processing it. But I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said, not wanting to get into her and her father’s strained relationship. “How’s your partner doing? I haven’t seen him in forever.”

  Adam grinned. “He’s well. Marriage agrees with him. I’ve finally persuaded his wife to join the firm. She’s a paralegal, and we need one desperately.”

  “I was impressed with Jade. If you don’t hold on to her, I might steal her right out from under you.”

  He laughed. “Don’t even think about it. We have plans for her. Once she’s finished with her MBA, we’re moving her into what we’re calling an entry-level sports agent position. She’ll shadow us until we feel she can start working with clients on her own.”

  “I’m sure she’ll do very well.”

  Adam finished off his soda, then set it on the white Formica tabletop. “Have you been to that new burger place on Townsend? Harlan’s?”

  “Yes. Their cheeseburgers are to die for.”

  Adam studied her thoughtfully. “I’ve got tickets to the game tonight. Would you like to join me and Rick for dinner afterward?”

  She considered his invitation for a moment. Why not? It was better than sitting home alone, thinking about Tom. “I’d love to.”

  * * *

  After the game, and a short stint in the media room, Tom sat at the bar in Kamu’s and stared at the shot glass in front of him. Although it had been a while, he remembered his old friend Jack Daniel’s very well. Good old J.D.—a damn fine whiskey and a damn fine way to forget just about anything. At least for a while.

  He looked up from temptation, and for a moment was distracted by the highlights of the Blaze game on the flat-panel screen mounted above the bar. The series last week with the Dodgers had ended in a draw. This morning, the bitter rivals had been tied for first place in the division, and that hadn’t changed after tonight’s results. The Dodgers beat Atlanta handily, and the Blaze squeaked by the Marlins in a tense game that had Tom making full use of his bull pen.

  They’d been lucky to pull out a win, and he could say for certain it wasn’t because of his brilliant managerial skills. Not tonight away. Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? He’d been off-kilter ever since Katie had walked out of his office, and out of his life.

  The five days that had passed since then seemed like five hundred. Rarely did he venture up to the front office, but each day he’d manufactured some inconsequential reason to meet with Kelly, in hopes of running into Katie. One day on his way to Kelly’s office, Katie had passed him in the hall, and her only reaction to seeing him was to give him a polite nod. Evidently, when she said they had no future, she meant they were stick-a-fork-in-it done.

  He looked down at the dark amber liquid and his mouth watered. He knew this particular drill by heart: the whiskey would go down smooth, then hit his bloodstream and ease the ache in his chest. He wrapped his fingers around the glass and somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a voice telling him it was just one drink.

  “Are you sure you want to drink that?”

  Tom turned toward the familiar voice and about fell off his bar stool. “Rick?” he said, then grinned as he realized he wasn’t hallucinating and, indeed, it was Rick Taylor who was sliding onto the stool next to him. “What are you doing in San Francisco?” He slapped Rick on the back. “Hell, I don’t care why you’re here. It’s good to see you.”

  Rick waved off the bartender, then shifted toward Tom. “I had an all-day meeting with Adam Logan, and afterward we went to the game.” He grinned. “Congrats on pulling off the win.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I dropped by the clubhouse earlier this afternoon, but I didn’t see you. I’m staying at a hotel nearby and was on my way back from dinner so I took a detour, hoping you might be here.” He paused. “I wanted to speak to you personally, and thank you for staying in touch after Jill died. I was in a bad place for a long time after that, but knowing you and the team were thinking about me made a difference, even if it didn’t seem that way at the time.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. And we understood your decision.”

  Rick flashed a wry grin. “And then you went and won the World Series without me.”

  Tom chuckled. “You got us halfway there. You deserved to be in the clubhouse celebrating right alongside of us.”

  “Thanks. I wish I had been.” His expression turned solemn. “Look, I know this is none of my business. But when I was still playing for the Blaze, I was out running one night and I saw you coming out of an AA meeting on Mission.” He glanced at the shot glass. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but since you helped me get through a tough time, maybe I can do the same for you. I’ll ask again.” He glanced at the glass of amber liquid. “Are you sure you want to drink that?”

  Tom shrugged. “Maybe. I’m still decidin’.”

  “How long have you been sober?”

  “About eight years now.”

  “Congratulations. That’s a long time.” Rick reached in to his pocket and pulled out a bronze medallion the size of a poker chip. Tom recognized it immediately. He had one much like it. AA members received the medallions to mark their time of sobriety.

  “It’s just over a year for me. I started drinking the week after Jill died. It was the only thing that numbed the pain.” He slipped the medallion back into his pocket. “That’s why I quit playing ball. I knew I couldn’t keep drinking and play at the level I’ve always expected of myself. I took the coward’s way out.”

  “You’re not a coward. You lost your wife, and your unborn child. That’s tough to recover from.”

  “That wasn’t the only reason I drank. For a long time afterward I blamed myself for Jill’s death.”

  Tom frowned. “But it was a car accident. You weren’t with her. How could it be your fault?”

  “Because I forgot the milk.” Rick must have noticed Tom’s puzzlement and continued, “Jill called me while I was at my last physical therapy appointment and asked me to stop by the store and pick up a half gallon. As usual I forgot, and when I got home she was ticked off. We had a fight, and when I snapped at her and said I’d go back out and get it, she said she’d do it herself. I guess she was so angry at me that she wasn’t paying attention when she was driving and she made an illegal turn in front of a truck. She wasn’t wearing her seat belt, and was ejected from the car. They said she probably would have lived if she’d had her seat belt on.” He took a steadying breath. “So our last conversation was an argument, and if I hadn’t forgotten the milk, she’d still be alive. That’s why I started drinking.”

  Tom digested Rick’s words and couldn’t help but think of Katie. She’d tried to explain to him about the guilt that had filled her after the drunk driver hit her, and how long it had taken her to get past it and not blame herself for the accident. But he hadn’t wanted to hear it, or to even try to understand her point of view. He’d been too mired in the might-have-beens to listen, or even care.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he said to Rick, and it pained him to know that he should have said those same words to Katie the second she’d told him about the accident.

  “I know. It took me a while to get there, though.”

  “What made you decide to get sober?”

  Rick shrugged. “It hit me one day that Jill would be mad as hell at me for pissing my life and my career away. When I finally stopped drinking, I remembered how much I loved playing ball. I decided after my fifth AA meeting that I was still young enough to come back. I’ve spent the last year working my ass off to get in shape. I figured I’d have a chance if I could get to spring training next season. Doug Lowry wrote me a letter not long after Simon died, and he told
me that Simon wanted nothing more than to give me a shot at making the roster again, if and when I was ready.” A grin split Rick’s face. “I’m ready.”

  “Jill would be proud of you,” Tom said, and admired Rick for pulling himself out of his despair and moving forward with his life. It showed a strength of character not many people possessed.

  Rick’s smile faltered. “I love the game, and I’ve missed it. But I’d give it up in a heartbeat, if I could have Jill back.” He looked away and stared at the television screen. When he looked back at Tom, his eyes glistened. “I know this might sound ridiculous, but the first time I saw her, I knew I was going to marry her.” He blinked and let out a short laugh. “I was twelve years old. Crazy, right?”

  Tom’s gaze zeroed in on the wedding ring on Rick’s left ring finger, then he pushed the glass of whiskey away. “No. It’s not crazy at all.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  By the time Tom parted ways with Rick outside of Kamu’s, it was closing in on ten o’clock. Trudging alone along Townsend Street, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his Blaze sweatshirt to ward off the chilly air flowing in from the bay, he couldn’t help but be grateful that Rick had shown up when he did. Although he didn’t necessarily believe in divine intervention, tonight he could make an excellent case for it. Taking that drink wouldn’t have solved his problems—it would have only made them worse.

  The wedding ring Rick still wore made it clear that, although he’d come to terms with Jill’s death, he hadn’t completely let her go. Tom got it. Probably better than most people. Losing your soul mate was like losing a part of yourself, and living without that person was like being only half alive.

  He hoped one day Rick would find someone he could love as much as he loved Jill. For Rick, there was no other option. But for him, as long as Katie was still breathing, there was a chance he could repair the damage he’d done. The one thing that had become crystal clear to him tonight was that a life without Katie in it was unthinkable.

  After crossing Third Street, the distinct aroma of French fries and grilled burgers invaded his nostrils and set off a hungry rumble in his stomach. Although it was late, he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. A burger and fries to-go sounded like the best idea he’d had all day. Certainly better than drowning his sorrows with whiskey.