Love from Left Field (7 page)

Gwen studied her with shrewd eyes. “I’ve heard the rumors, not to mention what you’ve said, and haven’t said, to your father. Things are not good with the team right now, am I right?”

Miranda dropped her chin to her chest, then nodded. “We’re in a tough spot. But I have a plan.”

Her mother laid a hand on Miranda’s arm. “I know you do, sweetie, but he can’t help but order you around and try to get in the middle of things.” She paused, then spoke, the words coming out in a rush. “Your father needs his rest, without stress.”

Miranda frowned. “Of course he does. That’s why I’m handling things with the team.”

Her mother chewed her lower lip. “I don’t think you understand. I appreciate you coming here every day, giving me a break, and updating your father. But the doctor and I spoke last night. Your father needs a completely stress-free environment for his recovery. He won’t ever let go on his own. We need to be strong and force it. That means no updates about the team; no asking for his advice; and no involvement on his part. It’s time for you to take on the mantle of the team and do it yourself.”

“I’m doing it, Mom. And you know Dad will never step aside. Not now.”

“Exactly. So we’re going to have to make him.”

Miranda narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying? You don’t want me to see my own father?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds bad. But, honestly, if he sees you, he can’t help but ask lots of questions and get worked up, which isn’t good for his heart. And I know how busy you must be, with the season only a few weeks away. You can’t keep being torn in two. You can’t do what you need to, if you’re constantly running here asking for advice and updating your father. You need to take charge of the team and be the president. And you need to let him heal.”

“Dad won’t like that. He’ll call me and expect to see me daily.”

Gwen straightened and smiled. “You let me handle him. If I have to disconnect the phones, I will.”

Miranda glanced at the closed door, torn between her father, whom she desperately wanted to please, and her own relief at being able to do what was needed without her father’s interference. “He doesn’t agree with what needs to be done.”

“And that’ll add to his stress. I hope you understand. It’s not you, but the team. It’s for the best.”

“I won’t lie. It’ll be easier for me. But I expect regular updates.”

Her mother hugged her. “Of course. And you should visit, only no talking about the team. Since we both know he won’t stop asking about the team, we’ll have to be strong.”

Miranda nodded. “I had hoped to go to spring training in a couple of days, discuss changes with our scouting and management staff. If you’re sure you’ll be okay.”

“I’m stronger than you think, darling. Go and fix the team. That’ll heal your father faster than anything else.”

Miranda gave her mother one last hug and headed down the hall. She felt guilty for being relieved. With her no longer updating her father every day and feeling the weight of his disapproval, not to mention the staff still asking what Seamus would think, she could do what they needed and delay his full disapproval until she could prove the success.

She only feared that if she succeeded or didn’t, the result would be the same, at least as far as her father was concerned. Either way, she would have done things differently than him and he could never stand for it.

M
iranda stifled a
yawn and tried to focus on her email, but sleepless nights were catching up with her, not to mention heated dreams of Lucas thanks to the kiss they had shared the night before. What had he been thinking, kissing her like that? Did it mean something more or was it purely a reflex, an action born out of the need to comfort? It certainly didn’t feel comforting and she couldn’t believe she had responded as she had, especially with her father in the hospital. What kind of daughter did that?

Her brain spinning with the possibilities, she didn’t hear the knock at the door until Cole Hammonds poked his head in her office. “Have a minute?”

“Sure.” She gestured him in, donning the business facade so he couldn’t see her preoccupation.

He sat in the one of the chairs and folded his arms in front of him. “Wainright’s been sticking his nose in everywhere. Yesterday he was asking about talent, the farm system, draft plans. He knows we have no depth and need to sign some players to fill our holes. What does Seamus say?”

“My father’s very sick, Cole. He won’t be here until the All-Star break at the earliest.” She fixed a hard stare on the general manager. “And we’re not to bother him, even if he calls for a status. He needs a completely stress-free environment to recover, and we’ll make sure of that.”

Cole nodded. “What about signing players? He approves all acquisitions.”

“I’ll be doing that now.”

Cole pursed his lips then took a deep breath. “Wainright may not approve.”

“Find us a catcher and first baseman that we can afford. I’ll handle Lucas. Together, we’ll get this done.”

“Get what done?” Lucas spoke from the doorway, her assistant Maggie standing behind him wringing her hands.

Memories of the kiss flooded back and she flushed, earning a quizzical glance from Cole. She stood and clasped her hands on the edge of the desk to mask her trembling fingers. Cole also rose to his feet, more slowly, suspicion clouding his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Miranda. He just walked right past me,” Maggie said.

Miranda forced a smile. “That’s okay, Maggie. Maybe Mr. Wainright has been gone too long from the South to understand we have manners down here.”

He grinned. “I know enough about business to not ask permission or I might miss something.”

Cole grunted, shooting a dark glare at Lucas. “I’ll get working on what we discussed, Miranda.” He shoved past Lucas and strode out of the office.

Lucas only grinned, as if the whole situation amused him. “Thanks, Maggie. We’re all set.” He closed the door firmly in her astonished face and sat across from Miranda’s desk. “We had a meeting, am I right?”

She mentally counted to ten like she’d done when answering judge’s questions in pageants, thoughts of the kiss creating a tingling sensation along her nerve endings. Once she had her breathing and pulse under control, she sat and folded her hands in front of her. “We did. Although I would appreciate you not dismissing my assistant like that.”

He shrugged. “We have business. I assumed you wouldn’t want the whole office to know about it.”

She gritted her teeth but pasted on the fake smile. If he continued to be contrary, forgetting the kiss would be much easier to do. “Yes, fine. Let’s get to it then. What are you recommending?”

He frowned and folded his arms in front of him. “You have a long way to go. I can’t imagine you can turn things around to make the payment due at the All-Star break.”

“What does that mean for us?” She asked.

He heaved a sigh. “It could mean a sale of the team or bankruptcy.”

She relaxed in her chair fractionally. “Well, I don’t accept those options. Let me offer you a deal.”

“I don’t need to make a deal. I’m not the one in trouble.”

“Nevertheless, I’d like you to hold off on any recommendations about a sale, pending some conditions.”

He arched an eyebrow, expression clearly one of patronizing her. “Fine, what did you have in mind?”

“Our first payment isn’t due until the All-Star break. Until then, it’s business as usual. I just want you to give me that time.”

He let out a booming laugh. “You’ve seen the same reports I have. Unless you have an investor waiting in the wings to provide an infusion of cash, or you have ticket sales you haven’t told me about, there’s no way you can make the payment. And frankly, your team’s prospects for a winning season are pretty grim, so I doubt you’ll see an uptick in attendance. A sale takes time to set up. I’d recommend looking for a buyer. You’re on borrowed time already.”

She stiffened. “Well, then we have nothing to lose. Will you work with me on this?”

“You really want to do this?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

She studied him for a long moment, hearing the doubt in his voice. His condition made sense. Her father didn’t want to change anything, even in the face of evidence that they needed to do things differently. She, better than anyone, had seen that when she tried to streamline processes and make the operations more efficient. They had saved money but he barely glanced at her improvements. Only the team mattered. That was their product and her biggest challenge.

“I’ll consider your advice and include you on all discussions. I make the final decision. You can’t stop me from making changes or not.” She leaned forward. “What else do you want? I make the payment by the All-Star break and the Knights have a winning record, with an uptick in ticket sales. Say ten percent.”

Now he laughed. “You really think you can do that? You don’t have the time to make any significant changes that will actually do anything for you.”

She responded with a stone face. “I don’t have a choice. Do we have a deal?”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her for a long moment. She resisted the urge to squirm under his perusal and instead met his gaze straight on, no wavering. There was one thing her father taught her—how to bluff and never show weakness, especially in a negotiation. And this was a life or death situation. She couldn’t risk that. She’d do whatever it took to keep the team going.

Finally, he nodded. “Fine. If you think you can do it, I agree. But I have a couple more conditions.”

She gritted her teeth again but kept the smile in place. “Name them.”

“I’m involved in all discussions about the team. If I hear of any plan that could jeopardize the financial situation, I can veto it. Two, you and I meet twice a week for a review of the status.”

“So, you want to be a babysitter? I’m perfectly capable of handling this on my own. I can call you with any updates.”

He stood and leaned over the desk. “I’m staying right here, princess. We’ll meet in person. And I’m not babysitting you. I’m watching out for our investment. Take it or leave it.”

She smiled and lowered her eyes, opting for a little pageant charm. “Fine. You have a deal. I hope you’ll work with us. I could use your advice.”

He settled back on his heels and a considering look entered his eyes, as if suspicious of her statements. “For now, we have a deal. Shake on it?” He held out his hand.

She stood and grasped it firmly, praying it wouldn’t quiver. “Deal.”

He released her and turned to leave. “I’ll have Maggie set up regular meetings for us.”

“Wait,” she called out. “I have one more condition.”

He slowly turned and arched an eyebrow at her. “Another one? We already shook on the deal.”

She shook her hand. “This is personal. No more kisses.” Heat rose in her cheeks as a slow smile spread across his face.

He stepped closer to the desk and planted his hands on either side of her, leaning close until she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

“You’re right. That
is
personal. And I think you liked it. I know I did.” He straightened. “If you say I can’t kiss you, then I’ll want to even more.”

Before she could protest, he strolled out of the office, closing the door firmly behind him. Damn his arrogance. And damn her traitorous libido, standing at attention and all but begging for him to kiss her right then, damn the consequences. She’d have to be careful. Not only was Lucas dangerous to her team, but he was dangerous to her body.

At least she got what she wanted for the team. Time to find a way to make the payment and get new players. Time to prove to her father she could do the job. Time to save the Knights. Four months wasn’t all that long, especially being in spring training already. She needed some new ideas. She pressed the intercom button for her assistant.

“Get me Tom in Houston.”

*

Miranda swiveled in
her office chair to stare at the back wall. She took deep, even breaths, striving for a calm she feared wouldn’t arrive before the call. Her heart pounded in her chest and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. Rarely had anyone except her father been able to push her buttons quite like Lucas. His calm, even demeanor and resolute logic made her want to scream, even though a part of her acknowledged he was right about what he said.

The buzz of the phone made her jump. “Houston, line one.”

She picked up the phone. “Tom, thanks for taking the time to speak with me today.”

“No problem, Miranda.” The deep raspy voice echoed through the phone, making her wince with the volume. “Sorry to hear about your father. How is he?”

“He’s hanging in there, thanks for asking.” She paused. Now that the moment was here, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask.

Her father had beaten into her to never show weakness and asking for help was weakness in the extreme to Seamus Callahan. But she didn’t see a way around it this time.

“Miranda?”

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind. Listen, I’ve been hearing about your change in strategy for the past couple of years and I had some questions.”