Better Than Perfect (16 page)

“You get to have your good time later.” She looked out over the crowd, as if looking for a distraction.

“Promise?” Johnny stepped closer to her, close enough that he could smell her expensive perfume, or maybe it was her natural scent that was so intoxicating. “Because we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes, but first I need to make sure…” She started to pull away from him.

“No. Stay. Everything is perfect.” He whispered in her ear, purposely letting his breath tickle her neck. “You’re perfect.”

“Johnny, I—”

“Don’t look for excuses to get away from me.” He blew across her skin, delighting in making her shiver. “Or I’ll drag you out of here right now.”

“You wouldn’t.” She protested, but didn’t pull away.

“I guess I can wait.” He shifted his body away from hers. “But don’t make me wait too long.”

“Thanks.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I don’t know why this event has me more nervous than any other. I mean, I’ve done this every year for the past seven years. I should have it down by now.”

“It’s because this could be your last. You want to go out on top.” Johnny traced his thumb along her wrist. “I know exactly how you feel. No one’s going to remember what I did last year if I don’t pitch well this year. No one’s going to care about my awards if I don’t win it all this season.”

“That’s not true.” She tensed up again, after finally relaxing a bit. “You’ve had a terrific career. So many things to be proud of.”

“Yeah? My statistics only count in negotiations.” Johnny said. “If I start the season one and four with an ERA over five, they’ll be calling for a trade long before the deadline. No matter how many games and awards I’ve won. Especially since I didn’t win them here.”

“I’m sure you’ll be great.” She sounded kind of wistful. She took a long sip of her champagne before asking, “Was it worth it?”

“My career?” He asked. “Yeah. I guess. Besides, I’ve never had any other job.”

“Ever?”

“Not that wasn’t related to baseball. I worked part time as an umpire when I was in high school. The one day a week I didn’t have games or practice.”

“So what will you do after?” She didn’t need to add
after your arm gives out and you’re a has-been
.

“I have no idea.” Johnny wasn’t kidding.

“Ever consider coaching?”

The question took him by surprise. Even though he’d thoroughly enjoyed working the minicamp. “I don’t know.” For some reason, he still felt like he wasn’t good enough. That no one would want him working with their kids once they found out his background.

“You should. You did a great job with the kids this week. Especially with Zach.” She handed him her half-full glass and walked away.

He watched her thread her way through the crowd. It wasn’t until she stepped up to the podium at the front of the room he understood she wasn’t blowing him off. She had an announcement to make, now that most of the guests had arrived.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” She spoke clearly into the microphone and the room grew silent. “Welcome, and thank you for coming tonight. This is my seventh…my seventh year chairing this event and I’m amazed at how each year has grown to be more successful than the last.”

For a minute there, Johnny thought she was going to announce this would be her last year. But she didn’t. Instead she went on to thank the major donors, including the Harrison family, the Goliaths organization and several other big name contributors. She also made a point to thank the caterers, the hotel staff and other behind-the-scenes people who put forth more time than money to contribute to the cause.

Alice finished her speech and announced that dinner would be served shortly. She and Johnny were seated at a table with Mel, Frannie and a bunch of their friends and associates who would have had nothing to do with Johnny if it wasn’t for his fame. Some of the people at the table even eyed him suspiciously until Mel introduced him as
the
Johnny Scottsdale.

Talk turned to the team and their chances this year. There were several season ticket holders in the group.

“With this pitching staff, I think we’ll go all the way this year.” The man sitting directly across from Johnny punctuated his statement by pointing with his fork. “All the way.”

“We’d better.” The fellow to his left sipped his cocktail and stared at Johnny, almost as if he was daring him to argue. “I can’t even remember the last time the stadium didn’t sell out. With the amount of money we’re paying these guys, they owe us a World Series.”

It would be nice if a large salary could guarantee success. But Johnny didn’t think this was the time or place to point out that all of his opponents made as much, if not more money to try to beat him.

“Fan support does mean a lot.” Johnny tried to keep his comments neutral. The last thing he wanted to do was upset a fan who thought he knew more about the game than he did. “But it takes twenty-five guys on the field, plus the manager and coaches and trainers and staff to really pull it off. If it was just because of the fans, San Francisco would never lose a game. We’ve got the best fans in the world.”

“Oh, call the
Chronicle
,” Mel joked. “I think they should quote you on that.”

“Please, a lot of people feel that way.” Johnny wondered why his ability to throw a ball hard and with consistency made his opinions newsworthy.

“Well, I do know a few people down at the paper,” Mel said. “If you ever need a favor, some additional coverage, let me know.”

“I’m sure Johnny will make headlines all on his own.” Frannie smiled when she said it, but it felt like added pressure. They were all counting on him to be the missing piece of the puzzle that would take the Goliaths from being a good team—one in contention—to being a championship team.

“So, Johnny, will you be the first player to pitch a perfect game in the American League and the National League?” the wife of the man across from him asked with a friendly smile.

“With this defense behind me, who knows?” Johnny tried to shrug it off, but he was feeling the heat. It was almost as bad giving a press conference after a particularly disastrous start.

“It’s certainly possible. And we’ll be able to say we knew him when.” Mel made light of the challenge, but it was a challenge all the same. As long as he was a star, he was welcome in their circle. But what about when he was through with baseball?

“It doesn’t matter if you win the World Series or the Steve Young award.” Frannie was trying to be diplomatic.

“Cy Young, Frannie.” Mel corrected. “Steve Young was a football player.”

“Yes, dear, that’s what I meant.” She smiled at Johnny as if her mistake had been intentional. “The point is, we love Johnny because Mel loved Johnny. Not because he can throw a wicked slider.”

“Thank you.” Johnny wished he could slide right out of there.

“Yes, and if it wasn’t for Johnny breaking poor Alice’s heart, we wouldn’t have our Zach, now would we?” Mel gave him a stare that made him wonder what story Mel and Alice had given them. “We wouldn’t trade our Zach for a thousand all-stars, now would we?”

“No.” Frannie looked at her husband, with tears forming in her eyes. “Having Zach—and Alice, our dear, sweet Alice—has been the only thing that has made losing our boy bearable. I don’t think we could have gotten through it without them.”

“Now, Frannie, don’t get all mushy on us,” Mel commanded. “Everyone here knows what that boy and his mother mean to us. And now that Johnny is here, well, it’s like having a bit of Mel back too.”

It was all Johnny could do to finish his meal. He hated these kinds of things. Polite dinner conversation with strangers. Even worse, having Mel’s parents gush over him. And it wasn’t because he was a semi-famous ballplayer. They acted as if they liked him.

Just like Mel had acted as if he’d liked Johnny.

He was about ready to make his excuses when the band started to play.

“Excuse me. It’s been lovely to meet all of you. But I promised Alice a dance.” He stood and extended his hand.

“Yes. You did.” She smiled as she slipped her hand into his and followed him to the dance floor.

“Are you okay?” Somehow she could still tell what he was feeling. That he was overwhelmed by too much attention.

“Yes. I’m fine.” He pulled her toward him with a little more force than grace. He tried to relax as he placed one hand on her shoulder and the other at her waist.

“Johnny. Talk to me.” They’d had plenty of fights because he’d never been good at expressing himself. But she didn’t sound angry. Not this time. “Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.” He closed his eyes and tried to get into the music.

“I can only imagine how hard it is to listen to guys who think they know what it’s like.” She swayed to the music and pressed her body against his. “As if they could do their jobs with thirty thousand people watching their every move, every night.”

“It’s no big deal.” He wanted to forget about it. To concentrate on having her in his arms, but sometimes it got to him. The pressure. The feeling that he would never be good enough. Especially when he thought about how much money he made.

Because all the money in the world hadn’t made up for what he’d lost.

He pulled her closer to him. Molded his body against hers. And wished he could go back in time. To when he was twenty. When all he needed was his game and his girl. When he played for the love of the game and he loved because he couldn’t help it.

But it hadn’t been enough.

He hadn’t been enough.

And if he didn’t come through this season, it would all be for nothing.

“I’d better let you get back to work.” The slow song finished and Johnny was itching to get out of there.

“I’m done here.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him like he was some kind of hero. “We can leave any time you want.”

“Are you sure?” He knew how much this night meant to her. To her cause.

“Absolutely.” She slipped her hand in his and gave him a comforting squeeze. “I think I’ve done enough here. I’d say tonight was a huge success.”

“You have a lot to be proud of.” Johnny was still in awe of what she’d accomplished. He wondered how much money they’d brought in tonight. And how many kids it would help. “You’re the real hero.”

“Hardly.” She blushed. “We’ve been doing this so long, the event practically runs itself.”

“Sure.” Johnny waited while she got her coat. “And all these wallets just open up on their own.”

“Everyone here knows what they’re getting into. If they weren’t planning on spending the money, they wouldn’t have come.”

“I don’t know, those crab cakes were worth the price of admission.” He helped her into her wrap and led her to the street where the limo would be waiting for them.

“Well, you have to give them something for their money.”

“I suppose I should make an additional contribution.” Johnny tried not to think about money too much. It had never been important to him. But now, he felt guilty for not doing more with it. Other than taking care of his mother, he pretty much ignored it.

“Don’t even think about it.” She said. “You already gave so much. Something that none of these people could contribute. You gave your time and expertise.”

“It was one week. And I didn’t even come close to teaching them everything they need to know.” Johnny felt frustrated that he couldn’t spend more time with each kid. Especially Zach. The boy had real potential. But he would need a lot of practice. And regular monitoring. “I could do more.”

“Okay. So do more.” She took his hand as the limo pulled up. “But not tonight. Tonight you’re mine.”

9

Johnny was far too quiet in the limo. Something was on his mind, but Alice knew from experience that he wouldn’t share without a little push.

“So, you must get tired of fans who think they own you because they buy a ticket.” She certainly did.

“I’m used to it.” Johnny sat stiff in the plush leather seat, bothered by more than just the loudmouths at their table.

They rode on through the city. Heading the opposite direction of her house. They must be going to his place. Close to the ballpark.