Betting On The Rookie. Stephanie Doyle
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Jocelyn muttered.
“Not all men,” Sam said, nodding her chin toward her squeaky clean client on the field. “At least, we have to hope, right?”
Jocelyn turned her knees to the side, and Sam left her behind in search of that hot dog. She wasn’t quite as pissed anymore, but that didn’t mean a hot dog wouldn’t taste damn good.
* * *
EVAN CAME OUT of the stadium freshly washed and feeling amazing after a solid game. He’d gone three for four, with a home run. The team had won, and overall the mood was jovial in the locker room.
Sure, he was getting a lot of grief about when he was going to get the call. His ascent to The Show seemed all but inevitable. He could see some jealousy in the younger players around him, too. Guys who maybe thought they were more deserving, because they had been playing the game longer. Evan wouldn’t let that negativity touch him. He wasn’t getting ahead by keeping anyone else down. He was simply playing his game his way.
He stopped when he saw Sam leaning on the hood of his truck. Much like that first time he’d seen her again, only then it was on her car. Leaning against his truck like that only made her hotter.
Clearly, her ability to knock the breath out of him was still alive and well, despite telling himself nearly every day since they had shaken hands that he needed to stop thinking about her as a woman.
She’s my agent. A sexless creature entirely.
Then she stood straight, and he took in her cool expression, long legs and slim high heels and snorted.
There was no way, as long as he still had his penis attached to him, that he could look at Samantha Baker and not see her as flat-out sexy.
He’d wanted her the first time he saw her almost two years ago. Had she given him a glimmer of an opening back then, he would have asked her out.
But she hadn’t. It never occurred to him to wonder why that might be.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he blurted out as he dropped his equipment bag in the back of his cab.
He could see he’d startled her—it seemed he was always doing that—because it took her a few seconds to come up with a suitable response. Which made no sense, because it was a yes or no answer.
“Why are you asking?”
Evan shrugged. “No real reason. Just curious about you. Like you said, you’re part of my life now.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him warily before saying, “No. I don’t.”
“What about when I met you? Did you have one then?”
She cocked her head to the side. “I see. Trying to understand why I didn’t fall at your feet when you smiled at me the first time?”
Evan smiled a little bashfully now. “Yup.”
“Sorry to wound your ego, but, no, I didn’t have one back then, either. My last relationship ended with a broken engagement. I haven’t been all that eager to get back out there since.”
“Had your heart broken?”
“Something like that.”
“Idiot.”
Sam quirked a single eyebrow. She really was an icy creature. Unless she was all hot and sweaty from jogging, that was. Evan tried unsuccessfully to suppress that memory.
“I meant the guy. For having you and then losing you.”
There was an emotion in her eyes that made him sorry he’d brought the topic up. Like he had poked at an old wound and suddenly made her pain resurface.
“Are we done discussing my love life? We have important business to go over.”
“Must be important if you were willing to stay through the whole game rather than just call me later.”
Sam shifted her feet a little. “Well, you were having a good game, so it wasn’t hard to watch. Given you’re my only client right now, you’re entitled to the VIP treatment.”
Evan couldn’t say why, but he knew she was lying. She’d stayed to watch the game because she had wanted to, not because of their business. He was fairly certain that this thing he felt, it went both ways. No doubt she was as uncomfortable about it as he was. Instead of calling her on it, he backed off.
“Okay then, what’s so important?”
“Jocelyn Taft... Wright. Jocelyn Taft Wright, you know, owns the team and the stadium. She wants to capitalize on your time with the Minotaurs. She thinks a small press conference to talk about your journey here might sell some tickets.”
Evan shrugged. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea. He already had a minor issue with jealousy among the guys. He didn’t want to exacerbate that with more attention focused only on him. It didn’t seem right in such a team sport. Then again, he had to be practical. This was his career, after all. He was going to have to start thinking about these things.
“It’s a good idea,” Sam said. “You’ve got a unique story, and we need to take advantage of that. I’ve been trying to think of some sponsors who might be interested once you’re called up and hopefully start hitting home runs. Someone who wants to advertise a product along the lines of...it’s never too late...”
“Sam.” Evan stopped her. “That’s fine. Whatever you think is necessary.”
She nodded. “Good. Jocelyn will set everything up. You just need to show up and look pretty for the cameras.”
“That won’t be too hard with you standing next to me.”
Sam shook her head, and again Evan could see something beyond the icy façade. Another flash of pain. He felt it in his gut, too. The mere idea of causing her pain bothered him. He wanted her to be safe behind those icy walls she’d constructed for herself. Even as much as he wanted to be on the other side of them.
“I won’t be there. Jocelyn doesn’t want to risk your image being tarnished with me on the scene. Keep in mind she’s trying to sell tickets to families.”
“Seriously? You’re standing there telling me she’s ashamed of you.”
Sam got a little stiffer. “It’s a fact we’ll need to deal with. We should probably prepare an answer if anyone actually questions you about your decision to hire me as your agent.”
“How about the truth? You didn’t know Stanson was a lying douche bag, and you’re a damn good agent.”
Her lips quirked. “You might want to refrain from using the word douche bag in front of television cameras.”
“I’m serious, Sam. This is bull you have to pay for that guy’s actions. Let me tell people what really happened. Maybe no one will believe you if you say you didn’t know, but if other people hear it from those who respect you...”
Sam shook her head. “I’m not the story. You are. Remember that. It’s not going to hurt you to have me one room away.”
“I don’t like it,” Even said stubbornly.
Sam smiled, genuinely smiled for maybe the first time since he’d met her, and it took his breath away.
“You’re a knight in shining armor, aren’t you? Ready to save the damsel in distress.”
“If you’ll let me.”
Sam chuckled. “Evan, trust me, I’m not a damsel. If I need saving, I’ll do it myself. Just be there on time. I’ll pick out the outfit I want you to wear.”
She started to walk away toward her own car. That sleek ice-blue Mercedes that reminded him of her.
Evan scowled. Because she was so casually telling him what to do or because she was leaving him, he wasn’t sure.
“I’m