* *
EVAN TANNER WAS pulling into the Minotaurs’ baseball field parking lot with his father still talking through the speakers in his truck. It was a new truck, red with black interior. Something he had absolutely no need for but had always wanted.
As a high school teacher and coach, it had been a pipe dream. Conservative used cars had been more his style. Now, he could afford this truck easily. Something he acknowledged was completely jacked—getting more money to play a game than to teach kids. Because he could swing a bat and hit a ball. Life was crazy sometimes.
“You’re going to think about what I said.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“I mean, it’s time, son, we’re talking about the big leagues.”
“I know, Dad,” Evan said, trying to be as patient as he could. After all, his father couldn’t help it, he was just excited for him. The reality was that this next climb into the majors was going to happen...it was just a question of when.
“I worry about you getting taken advantage of because you’re not the prototypical baseball player.”
Evan understood that. There was no doubt the Rebels would lowball any contract they offered him, given his significant age. At least his baseball age.
No, Evan knew an agent was necessary. The hard part was going to be finding the right one. Someone he could trust. Whose first concern was what Evan wanted, not how much money was in it for the agent.
“I promise. I will start looking. Hey, I’m here now. I want to drop my stuff off in my locker and get set up before the game tomorrow.”
“Play sharp.”
Evan smiled. That’s what his dad always told him. Not play well or hard, play sharp. It was his dad’s way of saying to use all his abilities. Not just his physical ones but his mental ones, as well.
“Got it.”
“Oh, and one last thing... I wasn’t going to mention it, but it seemed odd...and I guess I thought you should know. Kelly called me.”
It took a second for the name to register. “Kelly? My ex-girlfriend, Kelly?”
“Yep. She said she was wondering how you were doing and decided to call to catch up. Mine was the last number she had for you. She wanted to know why you weren’t on Facebook.”
Evan grimaced. Because he hated the idea of social media. Because of things just like this. Kelly was part of his past. A long-ago past. There was no reason they needed to be internet friends. He hoped she was doing well but felt no need to catch up with her.
“Anyway, I wasn’t sure I should tell you. The timing...well...let’s just say it’s suspicious.”
Evan understood his father’s concern. It had been Evan’s decision after college not to try and make an attempt at a pro football career. That had ultimately ended the relationship between him and Kelly. She seemed so convinced he would be drafted despite his size and that, by not at least trying, he was walking away from a future that would be radically different than that of a schoolteacher.
Kelly hadn’t wanted to be the wife of a schoolteacher.
Evan would never forget her saying those exact words to him. They deserved better, she had said. It had devastated him and destroyed them as couple. Only months before, he’d actually been thinking about proposing.
Although he couldn’t imagine there would be any way she might know what was happening with him now. They weren’t from the same hometown, having met in college. She was from Florida originally, if he recalled. As far as Evan was aware, none of their mutual college friends knew that he was now playing baseball. Certainly no one knew he was as close to the majors as he was.
Because he wasn’t out there on the internet talking about himself every day.
“It was probably just a coincidence. Don’t worry about it, Dad.”
“I’m not worried. You’ve got too good a head on your shoulders to get distracted by Kelly, of all people. You know, I never liked her.”
“Yes, Dad. I remember.”
“Okay, son...well... I’ll see you soon. You’ll call me the minute you get called up, and no matter where you’re playing I’ll be there.”
His dad, now retired, had spent the last year following Evan around the country to various different minor league ball clubs. Including all the way to Puerto Rico when Evan had played fall ball last year.
Evan had always encouraged his dad, a widower for over ten years now, to find a hobby other than his son. His father had never listened.
Now there was a very real chance before the season was over that his father would be watching Evan at his major league debut game. Evan felt goose bumps at the mere idea of it.
Stay cool. You’re not quite there yet.
“Love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too, son.”
The call ended, and Evan sat in the truck for a moment to appreciate this time and this moment. The stadium where he had tried out loomed in front of him. The bull situated over the entrance seemed like a fierce thing under the new summer sun. He’d made it to Triple A, one step away from The Show. The irony that he was back here where it all started wasn’t lost on him, either. Karma, it seemed, had a sense of humor.
Scout Baker, a New England Rebel scout at the time, had seen something in the swing of a high school baseball coach. Her belief in him had cost her her job. But her belief in him was what had told him he should continue trying. So he had.
Now he was one step away from fulfilling a dream of being a professional athlete. Something he thought he’d left behind after college.
Evan got out of the truck and grabbed his equipment bag from the cab in back. It was an off day, so the lot was barely filled. Probably mostly with just the support staff who ran the park and the general manager.
Maybe that’s why the ice-blue Mercedes caught his attention. Or more likely the woman leaning against it.
Sleek body, long heels, blond hair that just hit her chin. And even though he couldn’t see them from this distance, the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen.
He would have known her anywhere. He wondered if she might look at him and guess that she had starred in several of his fantasies over these past months. If it would somehow be written on his face that he had dreamt about taking her every way a man could have a woman.
“Samantha Baker,” he called.
He could see that startled her a little. They’d only shared a few casual conversations not quite two years ago. Maybe he should have forgotten her.
He hadn’t. Not even a little bit.
She straightened and came walking toward him. He could hear the distinctive click of her no-doubt very expensive heels hitting the pavement. A woman on a mission.
“Evan Tanner,” she said,
