She was right. It had been fun. That’s all it had been.

He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, irritated that the team owner had forced them all into a three-fucking-hour meeting right after the game that had sucked up his entire night. And he’d left his phone in his locker, so he hadn’t been able to call or text Elizabeth to let her know because he was a moronic slave to technology and he didn’t know anyone’s phone number by heart other than his parents’, and that only because they’d had the same phone number for forty years.

Obviously, it wouldn’t have mattered since she’d just decided to leave.

Again.

Fine. He didn’t need her in his life. The regular season was about to gear up, and he needed to be ready for it. Baseball was all he needed to be thinking about right now. It was time to focus on the game.

Not on Elizabeth.

THIRTEEN

ELIZABETH STARED OUT OVER DOWNTOWN SAINT LOUIS from her office on the twent y-seventh floor. The sun shone brightly over the Mississippi River. Tugboats sailed down the muddy river, and the sun glinted off the silver Gateway Arch, nearly blinding her.

It was about damn time the sun came out after two weeks of nonstop rain. Just in time for baseball season’s opening week, too. At least that would make some people happy.

Not her. But some people.

Bright and sunny outside. Dark and moody inside.

With a sigh she pushed off the credenza and paced her office, staring at the clock on her laptop just waiting for the call from her prospective client, NFL pro Jamarcus Daniels.

Rumor had it Jamarcus’s agent was in a financial free fall, and Jamarcus was ready to bail on him, which meant every sports agent out there had been courting Jamarcus for the past week, including Elizabeth. She’d flown to Cleveland and met with him and his wife, wined them, dined them, talked terms, and offered representation. She had a really good feeling about this guy. He seemed honest and genuine, and his wife was very sweet. Elizabeth laid it all out there for him, told him what she could do for his career and advised him not to wait too long before making the change. Rod Franklin, his current agent, was in deep trouble financially due to some risky investment strategies. He was losing clients left and right, and the sharks were circling.

Elizabeth should know since she was one of the sharks hoping to grab some of Rod’s clients.

Showing weakness could destroy a sports agent, and Rod was bleeding heavily. His time in the industry was over, and he knew it. The best he could hope for was being able to pay his taxes on time in the coming year, because he was sure as hell going to lose every one of his clients.

Not her problem. Business was business, and only the strong survived.

She sat at her desk and checked her e-mail, excited to see an e-mail from Jamarcus.

“Son of a bitch.”

He thanked her for meeting with him, said a lot of nice things about her, then said he’d signed with the Davis Agency.

Fuck!

She shoved her laptop and stood, kicked her chair across the room, crossed her arms and stared out the window again.

Another loss to the Davis Agency. What the fuck was Don Davis offering to these guys as incentive to sign with him anyway? That was two she’d lost to him.

Three if she counted Mick, who was also with Davis now.

Mick. She wondered if Mick had something to do with all of this. As mad as he’d been at her over the whole Tara affair, she wouldn’t put it past him to try and sabotage her agency.

Mick was a draw, a huge name, and a lot of athletes followed who was repped by what agent. Successful sports stars got great deals because of who their agent was. Smart players knew who those agents were.

Elizabeth had many big names on her client roster, but there was no doubt Mick firing her had hurt her—continued to hurt her—as evidenced by losing Steve and Jamarcus to the Davis Agency.

Dammit. She hated being suspicious of Mick, but being suspicious had kept her on top of her game for the past ten years. She hadn’t become successful by being blind. She was almost certain that Mick and Don Davis were working together behind her back.

She picked up her phone and pressed the button for her assistant, Colleen.

“Yes?”

“Get me the list of the Davis Agency clients, Colleen.”

“You got it.”

She turned around and glared out the window, missing Florida and the fun she’d had there.

She missed Gavin, too. Then again this was like it had always been before, so she was used to it. She’d kept her distance from Gavin to protect her heart, and she’d let her guard down, allowed herself to get close to him, and gotten used to having him around.

Big mistake, and it wouldn’t happen again. It was best to keep her relationship with Gavin professional.

She hadn’t heard a word from him since she’d left him that note.

Not that she’d expected to. He had probably grown tired of her being there with him and just couldn’t figure out how to ask her to leave. Good thing she was smart and insightful and knew when it was time to pack up and go.

She inhaled, sighed, and returned to her desk and her paperwork, burying herself in her work so she didn’t have to think.

Her assistant buzzed in about an hour later.

“Tyler Anderson is on the phone,” Colleen said.

Elizabeth’s brows raised. Tyler Anderson was a premier hockey player for the Saint Louis Ice. And not one of her clients. “Thanks, Colleen.”

She picked up her phone. “This is Elizabeth Darnell.”

“Ms. Darnell, this is Tyler Anderson. I play for the Saint Louis Ice hockey team.”

“I know who you are, Tyler. What can I do for you?”

“First, you can call me Ty. Second, my agent is an ass.”

Elizabeth grinned, adrenaline pumping through her system as she took a seat at her desk and brought up Ty Anderson’s stats and bio. “I take it then that you’re interested in changing agents and working with me?”

“Yeah. Eddie Wolkowski said you’re a good agent and that we should talk.”

She made a mental note to send Eddie, one of her clients and another player on the Ice, a bottle of his favorite whiskey. “That’s nice of him to say.”

“Can we arrange a meeting?”

She clicked open her calendar. “At your convenience.”

“I want to get this done soon. I already gave my agent the boot.”

She made arrangements to meet with Ty, then hung up and swung around in her chair.

Finally, things were starting to look up. Ty was a star player, and even better, as she discovered when Colleen had brought her the list of Davis Agency clients, Ty Anderson was with the Davis Agency. It would be an absolute boon to steal him away from Don Davis since Davis had been doing his damned best to bleed her dry over the past six months.

It was about time she started getting some payback.

OPENING WEEK OF THE SEASON NEVER FAILED TO MAKE Gavin feel like a kid. It wouldn’t matter how many years he played baseball, he’d still be six years old, and the sights and sounds and smells of the home stadium would still fill him with the excitement he’d felt when his dad had brought him to his first Rivers game. He’d been wide-eyed and taken it all in, from the sheer size of the stadium to the smell of hot dogs and popcorn to the deafening screams of all the fans. He’d fallen in love with baseball that first day, and the thrill had never left him. It didn’t matter if he was sitting in the seats watching a game or standing at first base ready to field a ball. The love of the game was in his blood, and he’d never tire of it.

Putting on the uniform was an honor, one he didn’t take lightly. He knew how hard players worked to make it to the major leagues, knew how few did and how easily that privilege could be lost, and he savored every minute he was allowed to play, because it could all go away with one big injury or a loss of mojo.

So far so good, though. The preseason had ended pretty well for the Rivers, even though Gavin hadn’t batted as well as he thought he should. His game hadn’t been consistent. He’d been all over the place and not all of it had been good. He’d lost his focus somewhere mid preseason, and he hoped to get it back now that the season had started.

“You gonna just stare into your locker all night, or do you think you might get off your ass and play some baseball?”

Gavin lifted his gaze toward Dedrick. “I’m channeling my mojo.”

Dedrick leaned against the locker, his glove under his arm. “Maybe your mojo is somewhere up your ass, and that’s why you can’t find it.”

Gavin snorted. “Likely.”

“Or maybe your pretty redheaded girlfriend ran off with it when she stopped coming to the preseason games.”

Gavin didn’t want to think about Elizabeth. “No woman has ever had my mojo.” He grabbed his cup. “I got all the mojo I need right here.”

Dedrick laughed. “Yeah, that’s what we all say, ’til some woman brings us to our knees.”

“Just because it happened to you, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen to me, brother.” Gavin stood and followed Dedrick down the long hallway toward the dugout. “You ready?”

Dedrick touched his glove to Gavin’s. “Hell yeah. Ready for this season to get under way. You?”

“You know it.”

“Then let’s play some ball and kick Milwaukee’s ass.”

“SO GAVIN RILEY IS ONE OF YOUR CLIENTS, RIGHT?”

Elizabeth sat in the owner’s box with Ty, her new client. He wanted to see the game, she wanted to impress him, so she got him seats in the owner’s box since she and Clyde Ross, owner of the Rivers, were close.

She made it a point to be on friendly terms with all the team owners. Not too close, but close enough that negotiations would go her way and her clients would get a good deal. Owners trusted her because they knew she wasn’t out to screw them over. She didn’t give them drug- or steroid-addled players or players who were interested only in becoming the next action movie star. She represented players who were serious about their sport. Which was why she’d spent several days in close meetings with Ty Anderson before she signed him on. She checked out his background and his playing history, wanted to make sure there were no skeletons in his closet, then she hit him with some tough questions and let him know she’d tolerate no bullshit. He had to be serious about playing hockey and staying in the sport. Money was great and all, but as she told all her clients, it wasn’t just about the money. They had to love their sport.

By the time she’d spent several days with Ty, she was convinced he lived, breathed, and ate hockey, which was just what she loved in a client. They’d signed the papers yesterday.

“Yes, Gavin is one of my clients.”

“He’s damn good at first base. I played first base when I was a kid. Football, too. Tight end.”

Elizabeth lifted her glass of wine and took a sip, studying Ty. “A little schizophrenic about your sports, were you?”

Ty laughed, a deep, booming sound that matched the man. “Hey, I had to play them all before I figured out what I wanted to do. Hockey seemed to fit me. Probably because I was always getting into fights.”

“I can so see that about you.” She was going to make a fortune off him and product endorsements. Don Davis might be able to sign players to a team contract, but he didn’t know shit about promoting a player through the media.

Women’s tongues were going to be dragging on the ground when they discovered Ty. Elizabeth had to get him a cologne or deodorant ad. Something that would feature him in print media. He had steely bluish gray eyes that simply penetrated when he looked at you, a square jaw, the kind of rough stubble that made a woman want his face rubbing across the tender parts of her skin, and he was tall and just utterly built like a man.

He was rough around the edges and a little crude, but he wasn’t rude. He was the kind of man who knew he was a man and made no apologies about it. If Elizabeth wasn’t stupidly hung up on Gavin, she could easily drool over Ty.




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