Dropped Third Strike (Portland Pioneers #1) (2 page)

She rubbed her fingertips from her forehead down to her temples and back up over and over, racking her brain for a name. She had worked in other organizations before landing with the Pioneers, compiling an extensive contact list in her journey to the front office. She opened up the address book in her e-mail and perused the names. Surely there was a lead on a hitting coach in there somewhere. After several moments of simply reading names, she composed a brief message about what she was looking for in a hitting coach and sent it to a few of her most-trusted former colleagues. Kate hated asking for help. It made her feel vulnerable and out of control – two things she worked hard not to feel – but desperate times called for desperate measures.

As soon as the e-mail was sent, she closed down her computer and gathered her things, anxious for a bit of an early exit. It was nearly five. Even if someone read her e-mail immediately, she wasn’t likely to receive a response until the next day. She might as well take advantage of a full evening. With the hitting coach search coming down to the wire, she had been putting in a lot of long days. Those were usually reserved for the trade deadline and post-season meetings, and they always left her feeling weary. Today felt like one of those days. Regardless, she intended to hit the gym on the way home to work off a bit of her frustration as well as some of the winter weight she’d put on – not that anyone could see it except her. There wasn’t anyone to notice anyway.

Kate was a bit of a loner – partly by design and partly as a result of her profession. She worked a lot of long hours and traveled frequently from February through September. This didn’t leave much time for a social life, let alone a love life. Her career choice gave her plenty of opportunities to meet available men – some more desirable than others – but it hadn’t really lent to dating success. Of course, most of the men she met wanted to talk baseball all the time, so their dates ended up feeling like an extended workday. Her well-intentioned best friend, Jill, tried introducing her to a few men outside of her professional circle. Unfortunately, the few Kate actually liked were unprepared for the rigors of her work schedule. They were looking for marriage and family, and those things were not on Kate’s immediate agenda.

That hadn’t always been the case. Although the baseball business had long been her dream, Kate had once envisioned herself trading wedding rings instead of outfielders. More than once, actually. Kate had twice given her heart to the same man, and twice he’d returned it to her in pieces. After the second break, Kate decided she couldn’t go through that again. Not with him or anyone else. It wasn’t worth it.

Following the second round of misery, she’d picked herself up, threw herself completely into her career, and never looked back. Her efforts had paid off handsomely. She had a prestigious role in a sport she had loved for most of her life. It came with an equally impressive salary, as well as chances to travel, talk with baseball legends, and meet people from the entertainment and sports worlds. Her job was her life, and she was happy with it, even if most people didn’t believe her when she said as much.

All four of her sisters were married, and between them there were nine grandchildren for her parents to dote on. Still, that hadn’t taken all of the pressure off of Kate. The Marks elders were still concerned about their first-born daughter’s single status. They didn’t think it was healthy for her to spend so much time at work and alone, even though she insisted she preferred it that way. They wanted to see her happy and settled, and she seemed so far from that at the moment. Her love life was still among the first subjects discussed whenever Kate ventured or called home. She never seemed to have the right answer for them either.

Then there were Kate’s friends, all of whom were married or coupled up. They were even worse than her parents. On top of the constant inquiries about her dating calendar, there were the not-so-sly set-ups masked as dinner parties and game nights. Kate accepted the invites and was never surprised to hear comments like, “oh, John is here and he’s single too. You two should talk.” At first, Kate was irritated and angry, but after she spent some time thinking about it, she learned to just let it go. She could have stopped accepting the invitations, but then when would she see her friends? And she knew they had good intentions. Plus, her social life was pretty minimal already, and she wasn’t willing to ditch her friends just because they chose to keep ignoring Kate’s objections to their set-ups.

While she was at peace with her relationship status, Kate occasionally missed the perks of having a significant other. At times she felt like the only single among couples. Logically, she knew that wasn’t true, and fortunately she was often too busy with work to dwell on these thoughts for long. But even at work, she couldn’t completely escape being inundated with images of couples. At the ballpark, her gaze was inevitably drawn to the screen during the “kiss cam” segment. A bit of jealousy surfaced whenever the focus was a young twosome obviously in the early stages of their relationship. Kate remembered those days, when it seemed like you were the only two people in the world and the electricity between you would never fizzle. She was also decidedly touched by the occasional elderly duo caught on the cam that were clearly as enamored with each other as they were comfortable. It was hard to look away, and the scenes often made her wistful. She missed the affection and companionship of a relationship, but not enough to chance having her heart broken again.

Every time she started longing for a boyfriend, she reminded herself of the pain one man had caused her. She remembered the tears, the countless boxes of tissues, the sad songs, and the ice cream. She recalled the shattered dreams, the broken promises, and the lost sense of hope and self. Upon the recall of these memories, the longing for a boyfriend quickly disappeared.

Besides, if she wanted to maintain and even improve her professional reputation, she needed to stay focused. A boyfriend would only distract her from her work. She couldn’t afford a distraction – especially not one as worthless as a man. The only men she was allowed to focus on were those whose checks she signed – the players, the managers, and the coaches. Those were the relationships that would benefit her on her mission to build a championship team.

That was the long-term goal.

The short-term goal was to hire a hitting coach.

She mulled over her options and contacts in her head again as she hit the treadmill at All-In Fitness. There was a gym at the stadium available to her, but she thought sweating with them or in front of the ballplayers she employed might compromise the professional barriers she had carefully crafted. Kate had specifically sought out a 24-hour gym to accommodate her unconventional work schedule. She preferred to work out before heading to the office, but occasionally a late meeting or game would keep her in bed later in the morning. On those nights, she opted for a late-night workout. They weren’t ideal, but they were necessary. Working out had become a staple in her life after her break-ups. If she wore herself out, there wouldn’t be any energy left to cry herself to sleep. As the years went on, she’d found them to be a great way to fight stress and her brain a break from the business of baseball.

As her brisk walk turned into a slow jog, Kate plugged her headphones into the treadmill’s console and looked up at the television in front of her machine. Her feet pounded against the belt as the one-liners and laughter of
The Office
chased work concerns from Kate’s mind. She didn’t watch much TV, but one of the guys she briefly dated had mentioned this show. While the relationship hadn’t worked out, his sense of humor had been one of his most endearing qualities, so Kate checked it out one night. She loved it immediately, and since the episodes were only 30 minutes long, Kate found it easy to catch up and keep up.

When the credits rolled, Kate began flipping through the channels. Unable to find anything else she could get into, she finally stopped it on the MLB Network, where they were discussing some of the latest transactions. It might have been a little too work-related for what was supposed to be off-time, but Kate couldn’t resist. Even before she’d entered the baseball industry as a professional, she’d had a hunger for constant information on the sport and the business behind it. As a GM now, she was always interested to see what her colleagues were doing. Most of the topics were old news to her, as she’d received calls and e-mails about various transactions and happenings all day. However, there was one announcement that nearly made her trip on the treadmill.

“After designating him for assignment early last week, the Mets have released outfielder Reid Benjamin. A one-time top prospect, Benjamin’s stock has been steadily dropping since his debut. He hit .250 with 30 walks and 120 strikeouts in his second season as the starting centerfielder after signing a five-year contract worth $100 million. Despite tallying 89 RBI, 20 home runs, and 40 doubles last year, he has not been able to put together a full season without injury or incident. His troubles off the field have also undoubtedly influenced New York’s decision. In the last few years, Benjamin has been arrested a handful of times on charges ranging from public intoxication to disorderly conduct. Just two weeks ago, he was kicked out of a popular nightclub after punching a bouncer. That appears to have been the final straw for the Mets. Benjamin now becomes a free agent. Between the size of his contract, his offensive troubles, and the late off-season nature of his release, finding work will be quite the scramble for him.”

Kate’s gait stuttered a bit as the segment started. Fortunately, she was able to stop the treadmill and find the side rails with her feet before looking like a klutz in the near-empty gym. For several long moments after the TV had gone to commercial, Kate’s gaze remained on the screen, letting the name resonate through her brain – Reid Benjamin.

From a professional standpoint, Kate was not all that surprised by the news of Reid’s release. His off-field headlines combined with his declining value and a saturated outfielder market would likely leave Reid without a job this season. She actually felt a bit sorry for him, and that sympathy annoyed her. Why should she feel sorry for Reid? He certainly hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

Kate knew Reid well – far better than any of those scouts, managers, or GMs who had been drooling over him for years. Reid also knew her quite well – in ways she preferred not to think about. Much to her chagrin, they occasionally snuck up on her. Usually on nights when she let her mind wander a little too far into the past.

This is not going to be one of those nights
.

She unplugged her headphones and went over to the free weights section of the facility. For the next hour, Kate drove Reid Benjamin from her mind with every lunge, squat, and curl. After she stretched and cooled down, she showered and headed home for a quick late dinner and bed.

Kate’s reprieve from hearing Reid Benjamin’s name didn’t last long. Even though she was at her office by the ungodly hour of six, she already had three voicemails mentioning his name. The last one was from the team’s owner. She shook her head and took a sip of her coffee as she picked up the phone to dial his number and set him straight.

“Please tell me you’ve already set up an interview with Benjamin,” Mr. Scott blurted out, almost before Kate could even say “hello.”

“I haven’t,” Kate managed to answer.

“And why not?” Mr. Scott demanded. “He would be perfect.”

“For what?” Kate asked. “You’re aware of his history, right? On and off the field, he’s a huge liability. I wouldn’t sign him as a player, and I definitely don’t want him coaching and mentoring. Even if he wasn’t such a bad influence, he has no experience.”

“Clearly, you are the one who has not looked at his résumé,” the owner replied. “During the off-seasons, he went to his alma mater and helped fine-tune the mechanics of many players there. Most of them have been or will be drafted.”

“Then why was he so horrible at the plate?” Kate asked.

“You know what they say – those who can’t do teach,” Mr. Scott said. “Interview and sign him. Fan Fest is in two days. I want to make the announcement then.”

“OK, I’ll interview him, but I can’t guarantee I’ll hire him,” Kate said.

In her mind, the possibility was very doubtful. Her personal bias against Reid Benjamin aside, she could not imagine him as a proper fit for the Pioneers – professionally or otherwise. Neither his batting stats nor his rap sheet inspired her. Besides, who was to say he would be interested in a coaching position? Regardless, the owner had given her an order. She had to carry it through. Honestly, it wasn’t as though she had many other options. The other candidates had failed to impress her. Reid was likely to follow suit, but at the owner’s command, she had to at least interview him.

Now she needed to figure out how to get in touch with Reid. His information was still in her phone contact list, but she wasn’t sure the number still worked. Years had passed since she’d even attempted to use it. Trying to shake that memory, she turned on her computer and opened her e-mail. The answer was in her inbox. More than one of the replies to her plea for help had suggested Reid and included his contact information. Some of them were time stamped before the evening announcement, so either they had insider information or they’d seen the writing on the wall. Interestingly enough, his number was still the same as it had been five years earlier. She took a deep breath and picked up the phone, dialing the number slowly.

When he answered sounding sleepy, Kate inhaled quickly. Knowing how his voice had once affected her – particularly when laced with the sexy, barely awake tone it carried now – why hadn’t she rehearsed something to say?