The Practice Proposal

The Practice Proposal

A Suddenly Smitten Novel

Tracy March

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product
of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by
Tracy March
. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in
any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact
the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at
www.entangledpublishing.com
.

Bliss is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles,
visit
www.entangledpublishing.com
.

Edited by
Stacy Abrams

Cover design by Jessica Cantor

Ebook ISBN 978-1-62266-876-2

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition
February 2013

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners
of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Washington Nationals, Baltimore Orioles, eBay,
E!
, Victoria’s Secret, San Francisco Giants, iPhone, Twitter, Polly Pocket, Disney,
Ford, “My Kinda Party,” Swiss Army knife, YouTube, Starbucks, Under Armour, Oreo,
Acura, Chevrolet, Google, Gatorade, ESPN, Red Sox,
The Bachelor
, Residence Inn,
Nats Extra
, Precious Moments, “The Star-Spangled Banner, ” Major League Baseball, Ted’s Bulletin,
Washington Post
, University of North Carolina, Boy Scouts of America, Girl Scouts of America, Eeyore,
Lycra, Montblanc, Atlanta Braves,
The Andy Griffith Show
, TV Land, Sharpie,
Cupcake Wars
, Sugar Sheet, Miami Marlins, Philadelphia Phillies,
The Wizard of Oz
,
Baltimore Sun
, Toronto Blue Jays, Piggly Wiggly, Craigslist, Oompa Loompas/Willy Wonka, Hay-Adams,
University of Virginia, Outback Steakhouse, New York Yankees, Batman, AARP, New York
Mets, Lakemont Memorial Gardens, “God Bless the USA,” Cracker Jack, “Take Me Out to
the Ball Game”

To F.P. and Carp for teaching me a lot about baseball,
and @SEA_Beast38 for the inspiration.

Chapter One

Liza Sutherland would much rather be in a ballpark than a ballroom, and tonight’s
black-tie charity gala had gone on way too long. She hoped the who’s-who patrons at
her table hadn’t noticed her fidgeting, rolling the tiny beads on her dress between
her fingertips. Which baseball teams had won and lost while she’d listened to big-band
music and eaten fancy banquet food? She’d have been fine with a foil-wrapped hot dog
with mustard and onions and an umpire calling balls and strikes.

Instead, the emcee stood onstage, waving a large white envelope, teasing the audience.
The envelope was the last of a big stack, and everyone was wondering whose name was
in it. Everyone but Liza. The gala was almost over, and that was all that mattered
to her.

Hopefully she’d get home in time to catch a few highlights on the postgame shows.

The emcee cleared his throat loudly. “And the winner of the grand prize in our silent
auction tonight—an evening with the Washington Nationals’ All-Star first baseman,
Cole Collins—is…” The audience murmured with hushed chatter, while seemingly every
woman there secretly fantasized that her name was about to be called.

The emcee tore open the envelope. With a dramatic flourish, he removed the card inside.
“Congratulations to…Miss Liza Sutherland.”

Liza’s stomach did a backflip.
What the…?

After a split second of stunned silence, the crowd erupted with applause and wolf
whistles. She quickly shook her head, heat rising in her face. “I didn’t even bid.
There has to be a mistake,” she said, but the only person who heard her above the
noise was her mother, who sat next to her.

Sylvia Sutherland’s knowing look immediately solved the mystery for Liza. “You. Did.
Not.”

Of all people, her mom should understand that she wasn’t interested in dating. Not
now or ever again. But her mom had probably thought she was doing Liza a favor, encouraging
her to get out and “meet another nice young man.” In fact, she’d been “encouraging”
for much of the last two years. An excruciating two years when Liza had grieved Wes
Kelley, her former fiancé, who had been a dedicated Secret Service agent. So dedicated
that he’d taken a fatal bullet for a visiting third-world dictator…who was assassinated
five months later.

The band began another brassy tune that sounded the same to Liza as all the others
they’d played tonight. Thankfully, it sent people hurrying toward the dance floor,
diverting attention from her.

“It was for two good causes,” her mom said proudly. “You.” She squeezed Liza’s hand
and despite her frustration, Liza relished the warm comfort she’d relied on through
her grief. “And the BADD Athletes Foundation.”

Her mother had founded the organization several years ago, shortly after she’d been
appointed to Major League Baseball’s Health Policy Advisory Committee. She practiced
sports medicine, loved baseball, and hoped BADD—“Be Aware of the Dangers of Doping”—would
make a difference in the lives of young athletes.

Liza felt the same way, and she even worked for the foundation, but she wished her
mom would’ve kept her money to herself tonight. She leaned closer so she wouldn’t
be overheard. “For starters, I’m not a
cause
. And I don’t think it’s appropriate for someone who works for BADD to win the grand
prize. That wasn’t the point of the auction.” It was hard enough for her to go to
work every day and have to prove she was more than capable of doing her job, regardless
of whom her parents were. Now there was this.

“Nonsense.” Her mom waved her hand airily. “The point of the auction was to raise
money and have a little fun.” She winked.

“But you and Dad would have given that money to BADD anyway. If someone else had won
the stupid date, we could’ve had double the funds.” Liza was sensitive about fund-raising.
It was the part of her job she liked the least and struggled with most.

Her mom grinned. “But
you
won the stupid date, sweetheart.”

She just doesn’t get it.
Liza didn’t want a date. She’d had a once-in-a-lifetime romance with Wes, and she’d
lost him. Everyone expected her to move on, but grief had its own timeline, and Liza’s
heart still ached for him. Living with his memory would be her ever after, and she
was satisfied with that.

“What makes you think I’d even want to go out with Cole Collins?” The idea alone tied
Liza’s stomach in a knot.

“Because ever since you met him at your father’s camp, you’ve cherished that autographed
baseball he gave you like it was a diamond the same size.” Of course her mom remembered
all of the most embarrassing times of Liza’s awkward teenage life, and seemed determined
to remind her of them.

Liza scrunched her face. “I packed that ball away years ago.” But she remembered vividly
that day at the camp, where she’d hung out for weeks just to watch Cole Collins
breathe
.

Her father had been a professional baseball player. After he’d retired, and before
he became co-owner of the Orioles, he ran a summer camp for promising young players.
Cole had attended three summers straight.

“I was all knees and elbows, and he was all full-blown ego.” Liza shook her head.
“The only reason I kept that ball was I hoped it’d be worth something someday.” She
took a deep breath and blew it out loudly. “I should sell it on eBay.”

“You don’t need the money, sweetie,” her mom said. “And you and Cole aren’t teenagers
anymore. You’ve both had your struggles. Maybe he’s changed—you certainly have. Just
go out with him and have a nice evening.”

Liza toyed with one of the straps of her peridot-green cocktail dress. It had been
Wes’s favorite because it matched her eyes, and it fit “just right.” She remembered
wistfully how he’d sometimes called her Goldilocks—despite her dark-red hair—because
everything about her was “just right” for him. After the love she’d shared with Wes,
how could she even think about going out with a guy like Cole Collins…even to raise
money for charity?

“I’m not interested in dating, Mom—especially a player like Cole. He’s lucky he didn’t
get arrested last weekend with Nikki Barlow.”

Her mom pursed her lips. “I think Cole just happened to be with the wrong wayward
starlet at the wrong time. Nikki was the one driving under the influence, and they
found the drugs in
her
purse. She’s the one who was charged, not Cole.”

After the well-publicized drug-related drama Cole had been involved in, there had
been some debate at BADD about pulling from the auction the “evening out” grand prize
he’d donated. But considering the funds the item was expected to raise, and that Cole
hadn’t actually been arrested, the auction committee had decided to move forward.
Besides, all of the advertising for the gala and auction had included the high-profile
listing and had gotten BADD plenty of press.

“You seem pretty quick to defend him,” Liza said, careful not to sound accusing. She
just wondered why.

“He’s hanging around with the wrong people.” Her mother was always good for a classic
mom-quote. “But I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.” She pulled at a lock of
Liza’s long hair. “
And
trying to reintroduce him to a nice girl who used to think he was pretty special.”

“He’s interested in movie stars and models.” Liza shrugged. “Not women like me.”

“So you’ve been keeping tabs on his social life?” her mom teased.

“No. All I have to do is flip on
E!
, wait five minutes, and they’ll run a clip showing him with some Victoria’s Secret
model.”

“You’re as beautiful as any of those girls. And smart, too.”

Liza smiled, appreciating the compliment and wishing—not for the first time—that brains
translated to curves. “But no one’s ever paid me to model sexy lingerie and wear angel
wings.”

Her mom shook her head, her expression turning serious. “Wes would want you to find
love again. He’d want you to be happy.”

Liza swallowed the lump in her throat. “What’s Dad going to think? The Nats are our
rivals in the Battle of the Beltway.” She always talked about the Orioles as if she
were one of them. “And there’s a real possibility the Os and the Nats will go to the
World Series this year. That makes things even more uncomfortable right now.”

Her mom swept a section of her ash-blond bob from her face and shrugged casually.
“It’s a friendly rivalry, and your dad will be fine—especially if the Os make the
Series.” She put her arm around Liza and pulled her close. “He’d be pleased to see
you happy.”

Happy hadn’t been in Liza’s emotional repertoire for a long time. She couldn’t imagine
a date with Cole Collins changing that. “I can’t,” she said.

The hurt in her mom’s eyes tugged at Liza’s heart. “If you won’t do it for you,” she
said gently, “will you do it for me?” She gazed at Liza with all of the hope and great
expectations that a mother has for her daughter, and Liza knew her mother had suffered,
too. Surely she’d felt helpless as she tried to ease Liza’s grief in so many ways.
From mother/daughter weekends to coming over in the middle of the night to listen
and dry Liza’s tears. If she could’ve figured out how to bring Wes back to life, she
would have, and sacrificed herself to do it.

Liza really wanted to say no to the date with Cole, but the look on her mom’s face
wouldn’t let her. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she squeezed her mom’s hand
and said, “Okay. I’ll go.”

…

Cole Collins glanced up from his menu and caught the too-cheery young waitress staring
at him. He gave her a lazy half smile and left it at that. She was cute enough, and
he was all about flirting, but this wasn’t the time.

For starters, it was way too early, and he was still half asleep. He didn’t have a
game until tonight, and he could’ve slept in if his agent hadn’t insisted on meeting
for breakfast. So here he was at Ted’s Bulletin, an incredibly popular upscale diner
on Barracks Row in DC’s Capitol Hill. Cole glanced across the booth-for-two at Frank
Price, knowing he’d set up this seven thirty breakfast to try to keep Cole from staying
out too late last night.

It hadn’t worked.

“Are you guys ready to order?” the waitress asked.

Cole nodded at Frank, who was built like a bear and took up every bit of the space
on his side of the booth.

“I’ll have the beer biscuits and sausage gravy.” Frank’s Virginia-gentleman baritone
carried up into the rusted pressed-tin ceiling. He took a gulp of his Bloody Mary.
“With two eggs sunny-side up and hash browns.”

“And you, Mr. Collins?” the waitress asked.

Cole bunched his lips. He would have liked her a lot better if she would’ve just let
him enjoy his breakfast incognito.

“I’ll have the Walk of Shame burrito,” he said.

“Fitting,” Frank muttered.

Cole had hesitated to order his favorite breakfast, knowing Frank would have something
to say about it, but the sirloin steak, egg, and cheese burrito seemed like the best
way to fortify himself against what was coming. He handed the waitress the oversize
old-newspaper-style menu.

“Coming right up,” she said and headed toward the open-air kitchen at the back of
the dining area. Cole would swear she’d put a little extra in the sway of her hips.

Frank’s salty remark still hung between them. Cole understood that his agent was pissed
about his brush with the law last weekend—hell, he was pissed at himself. This was
their first time face-to-face since then. Frank had been remarkably quiet about the
situation at the time, and then the Nats had gone on a road trip the next day. Since
Frank wasn’t one to hash out sensitive issues on the phone, Cole expected to hear
what-was-what from him this morning. Frank had always had his back, so Cole felt like
he owed the guy the respect to sit and take the ass-chewing he deserved.

It helped that Frank was a seasoned agent—not slick and fake like some of the younger
ones—but smart and experienced and wise. The guy could also wrangle some pretty impressive
deals. Cole had needed plenty of wrangling to keep himself employed over the years—and
possibly over the last week. No doubt Frank’s negotiating skills had gone a long way
toward keeping him from the front of a mug-shot camera that past Sunday.

“Last night was our lucky night, son,” Frank said, his intense gaze leveled on Cole.

Cole couldn’t imagine what had been lucky about it. The Nats had lost to the Giants
after eleven innings, and with the playoffs right around the corner, this was no time
to be losing. But if that’s what Frank wanted to discuss, Cole was willing. Talking
about last night was a heck of a lot better than talking about last week.

“Lucky how?” Cole asked.

“You see the tweet about the Sutherland girl?”

The guy never missed anything. Sometimes Cole wondered if Frank kept up with him better
than he kept up with himself.

Sutherland girl?
Cole shook his head.

Frank pulled his iPhone from his pocket and put his beefy fingers to work. He handed
Cole the phone just as the waitress arrived with their breakfast.

BADD Athletes Foundation
@BADDAthletes

@LizaSutherland wins silent auction date with Nationals’ All-Star first baseman @ColeCollins.
#nowthatsaprize

Strange…

“You look confused,” Frank said, wasting no time digging in to his heaping plateful
of food.

Cole stared at the tweet and let his breakfast sit. “I forgot all about this.”

“Well, the timing couldn’t be better, considering the stunt you pulled last week.”
Frank swiped his napkin across his mouth and scowled. “Who would’ve thought you’d
be needing some positive publicity from an antidrug program? I hope BADD took out
a front-page ad in the
Post
.”

Cole set the phone on the table and rubbed his forehead. This was the conversation
he’d been expecting. “The drugs were Nikki’s, Frank. Sure, I might’ve had one too
many drinks. That was obvious.” He shook his head. “But no drugs. You know that. My
test came back clean.”