Love from Left Field (21 page)

Well, this was starting out well. Clearly, her father still had a great deal of animosity towards Lucas. That wouldn’t be easy to overcome. She had hoped a winning record and proof of success would soothe his ruffled feathers. She should have known better. Her father never admitted he was wrong.

Lucas’s face had hardened like a statue and his eyes burned like coals at her father’s words.

He visibly relaxed his muscles and met Seamus’s gaze evenly. “Do you hear what people are saying about the team? They’re impressed, excited,
watching
. Ticket sales are slowly increasing and people are following the team. That was Miranda’s doing.”

“Big deal,” Seamus muttered. “They followed us in the fall and were quick to forget over the winter. Trust me, they won’t be loyal unless you can win more and, honestly, with this approach, you can’t keep it up. You don’t have the players.”

Miranda laid a soothing hand on her father’s arm. “You’re right. We can’t win the pennant without new players. But this time, we won’t rush to make a trade and be forced to choose from second or third rate players like during spring training. We wait, put together a decent season, and strike when other teams start to dump, right before mid-season. That’s when the players will be on the market. And we choose the right players for our model, using these statistics to find the right fit. And then we continue winning.”

His father looked at her as if he hadn’t seen her before. “Statistics? I’ll give you statistics. Home runs, strikeouts, earned run average. Those are what count.”

“No, they aren’t.” Miranda shook her head. “What counts are wins. That’s the bottom line. And make no mistake, we
are
winning.”

Gwen stepped in the room. “Dinner is ready. I hope you like fried chicken. I’m trying some new recipes with low fat.”

“And low taste,” Seamus muttered as he struggled to his feet, shaking off Miranda’s offer of assistance.

“Seamus, you said you liked it.” Gwen admonished.

He looked down, like a chastened child. “It was good.” He lifted his gaze and glared at Miranda. “Do you see what I’m reduced to? Low fat, low calorie meals. Oh and no Scotch. Can you believe that? Maybe I shouldn’t have woken up. What’s the joy in living anymore?”

“Daddy!” Miranda was shocked at his words.

“Ignore your father, dear. He’s just looking for attention.” Gwen didn’t seem too upset about his words.

Lucas slipped an arm around Miranda and squeezed gently before following her father. Seamus twisted around and glared at the embrace.

“What’s this? Are you trying to finish me off? Are you two dating?” His voice rose with every word, anger evident in his tone.

“Seamus, remember the doctor told you to stay calm.” Gwen patted his arm and tugged him towards the dining room, Miranda and Lucas following more slowly.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” she murmured under her breath.

“Stay firm, Miranda. We can get through this.”

She stopped and tilted back, looking up at him. “Why do you put up with me? With all of this?”

He pecked her on the lips. “Maybe I think you’re worth it.”

Would he still feel that way after the night ended? She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.

*

Dinner didn’t really
improve from there. Seamus expressed his disapproval with everything from the team, to their relationship, to the types of napkins. Once they headed for the door, Miranda felt wrung out like a week-old dishcloth that was falling apart. Seamus barely grunted when they said goodbye, but Gwen followed them to the door. She pulled Miranda close for one final word.

“Ignore your father, dear. He’s scared and hates relying on other people for anything. Once he gets through this, I’m sure he’ll be more open to your suggestions, and your relationship. Don’t let him drive a wedge between you and Lucas. He’s a nice boy.”

She turned and hugged Lucas, whispering in his ear, too. Lucas blushed and hugged her back. “Thank you for dinner, Gwen.”

“Come back soon!” She called out then closed the door.

Miranda turned and quirked a brow at Lucas. “So what did my mother have to say?”

He grinned. “She was telling me the recipe for that chicken.”

Miranda grimaced. “God, it was pretty tasteless, wasn’t it? No wonder daddy is cranky.”

He shrugged. “It’s only bad for people used to true Southern cooking. I tasted chicken like that up north all the time.”

“You poor baby.” She laid a hand on his chest, running her hands over him. “How can I make it up to you?”

He pulled her close. “I’ll think of something.”

She laughed low and they headed for the car.

L
ucas tapped his
fingers on his desk and studied his phone, tension lurking beneath the surface. It had been a month since his last report to the commissioner, since the season began. He had no reason to avoid the call. The Knights had a winning record and ticket sales were up. They even had a few sponsors renew their contract and a local media outlet had approached them to negotiate a deal for television and radio coverage, the holy grail for teams. All of this would increase their revenue and put them on the path to repaying their loans.

Somehow, he thought the commissioner wouldn’t be as positive about the results.

Oh, he wanted the team to succeed and not go bankrupt. Bankruptcy and bad financial states looked bad for baseball, especially in this era of high tickets, high payroll, and high costs to attend a game. Fans wondered how a team could go under when they charged so much. No, Roger wouldn’t like to see a financial meltdown. But, he hated Callahan and made it clear he wanted him gone. If the Knights succeeded, Callahan was here to stay. He never expressly told Lucas to get rid of Callahan but it was implied.

No matter how successful Lucas was in helping the Knights, Roger would see this as a failure.

The phone rang and Lucas picked it up. “Roger.”

“I expected your report a couple of weeks ago. And not a goddamn email. What’s going on?” Roger’s voice was sharper than a dagger.

Lucas took a deep breath. “Well, we’ve made some excellent progress.” He briefly outlined the prospects for the team and the revenue details.

Roger grunted. “So they’ll make the payment?”

“I think so. They still have a ways to go, but it’s looking good.”

Roger sighed. “That’s unfortunate. I was approached by a group of investors who are eager to buy in on a team. There are a couple of teams who might be willing to add investors but no one wants a complete sale.”

“And they want a complete buyout, no other partners.” A dead feeling settled low in Lucas’s belly.

“They want complete control. They think the Knights have a lot of real potential.”

“I don’t see Seamus selling the team anytime soon.”

“If he can’t make the payment to us or anyone else, he might be forced to.”

Lucas straightened in his chair, stomach churning. “What are you saying, Roger?”

“I’m saying there are people who want a team and you have a team who might need new ownership.” Roger’s voice lowered. “I wasn’t going to tell you this but they want you as their president. Imagine that. You, president of the Knights. You’ve always wanted that, your father’s chair, your inheritance. It’s within your grasp.”

“If I screw the Knights.” The words were bitter on his tongue, like acid.

“Don’t think of it that way.” Roger’s voice turned persuasive. “You know Callahan won’t stay away from the team for long. When he comes back, he’ll undo everything you and Miranda did, putting the team right back where they were two months ago, putting your father’s legacy in jeopardy. With this sale, you can save the team.”

Lucas wanted to deny the words but he knew they were true. When Callahan came back, and he would be coming back, he could change everything, possibly even fire people who came up with this plan. Miranda, Cole, the coaching staff, some of the players, could be gone in a blink of eye. Callahan was too stubborn to see the new way. He only saw his way, demanded his way. Could they fight him? And was it his fight to have?

“Lucas?” Roger’s voice echoed in the phone.

“Roger, I fully support Miranda and her decisions regarding the Knights. Until such time as that changes, if it changes, we’ll revisit it. But for now, she has my full support.”

“So the rumors are true. You’re sleeping with her. I never thought you would confuse pleasure and business.” The other man sighed heavily.

“One has nothing to do with the other. I support her decisions because they’re good, solid ideas and have proven results. Our relationship has nothing to do with it.” His voice was firm and resolute. “Are we done?”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“It’s mine to make.” But he only spoke to a dial tone.

He slammed the phone down, half expecting to see it explode in pieces all around. He had suspected Roger had ulterior motives when he sent Lucas here. What kind of a reputation would he have if he failed with the Knights? Or worse, if it got out that the team was sold and he had not been able to help, and then was offered the President position. A man he considered a friend and a mentor had placed him in a difficult position, used him like a pawn in a game of power and politics and Lucas didn’t appreciate it one damn bit.

Although there was one thing Roger had said that pricked at him. If Callahan came back and undid all the good work Miranda had done, where would that leave the team? The Knights were his father’s legacy, the one thing he loved almost as much as his family. To see it go down in flames, the financial state trotted out for the world to hear, then sold on the block like an animal at auction bother Lucas. He had vowed to do what he could to save the team. His way of apologizing to his father for abandoning him when his father had needed him the most.

He only hoped he could keep that promise.

“Lucas?” Miranda peered around the corner of the door, her eyes wide.

He jumped to his feet. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough. Is it true? Do you really believe we can make the changes needed?”

A sense of relief washed over him and his shoulders relaxed fractionally. “Of course. I told Roger I supported the changes completely.”

She hugged him tightly. “I knew you supported me but to hear you defend it to Roger? That means the world to me.”

His arms automatically went around her, holding her in place. Meanwhile, guilt prodded him, not letting him enjoy the moment as much as he normally would have.

She stepped back and took his hand. “Now I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

*

Miranda led him
out of his office and down the hall, her mouth curved in a mischievous smile. She hurried him along but not before he noticed some of the cubicles and desks empty, office doors open but no one inside. The floor was deserted, like a ghost town. Just after lunch, everyone should have been milling about, phones ringing, conversations a dull roar. Puzzled, he let himself be dragged along until they came to a closed conference room door. She pressed her finger to her lips and opened the door.

A dozen or so voices yelled, “Surprise!”

He jumped and glared at Miranda. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, whispering, “What the hell?”

She wiggled out from his hold and stood next to a big birthday cake with the words,
Happy Birthday
, written on them in flowing red script. He flushed immediately. How the hell had they found out that it was his birthday? The answer came immediately on the heels of the question.

His mother.

She had called earlier that morning to wish him a happy birthday, woke him up as usual at the time of his birth. Four o’clock. He had been sleeping at Miranda’s, his cell phone waking both up. He had thought he caught it before Miranda woke up fully but clearly she had been feigning sleep. He waited for the anger but instead, all he felt was embarrassment and a warm, pleasant feeling, like being part of a family.

Miranda’s eyes shone and she had a wide grin on her face, eager to hear what he had to say. Honestly, he had no idea. He couldn’t remember the last time he celebrated his birthday and no other team had ever taken the time to find out when it was. He was unaccustomed to being the center of attention, instead preferring to be on the sidelines, hidden from the cameras. Yet here he was, front and center, with everyone staring at him expectantly.