Sliding Home (9 page)

“Game was rigged,” Psycho
bellyached. “Damn, I hate to lose.”

“The best team won,” Kason
tossed over his shoulder as he shucked off his pants and sliding shorts, down
to his jock.

Psycho flipped him off. “I
can spit farther than you can bunt.”

“Try spitting a home run.”
Kason then stripped to his skin and headed for the shower.

“Dickhead,” Psycho
grumbled.

When Kason returned, he
found a note taped to his locker, a summons from Revelle Sullivan from player
promotions. Her reputation preceded her. Her newly established department had
created major locker room buzz.

Game's On connected players
with high-profile promotions. The woman played hardball in the game of
corporate endorsements and served the Rogues well.

Due to her efforts, Oat
Berry Clusters featured Risk Kincaid on its organic cereal box.

Romeo Bellisaro had become
the new hood ornament for Autobahn Elite, a German-based automaker. The
low-slung sports car hit high speeds and hugged corners. The campaign had gone
worldwide. Romeo was an international spokesman.

Psycho McMillan scored big
with Dinkies Dog Biscuits. He howled as loudly as his Newfoundlands and
miniature dachshund in the nationwide commercials. Dogs across the country
barked for the treats. Even Cimarron found them tasty.

The Rogues had lined up to
be showcased.

Everyone but Kason. He
didn't seek the spotlight. He had no desire to be a household name. His
statistics in the batter's box and skills in left field were syndicated in the
sports section of every newspaper. Yet he'd never done an interview. He felt
questions pertaining to his favorite music and movie, best color, and
astrological sign were intrusive.

Some called him dark and
mysterious. Others a dick for not sharing his innermost thoughts. His life
outside the park was his own. He had no plans to be linked to a multimedia
blitz. No matter how lucrative.

Revelle Sullivan, however,
had leverage. She was Guy Powers's niece. What went down in her office traveled
to her uncle. The team's owner liked his Rogues front and center in the
community and recognizable to all. National promotions pleased him greatly.

Kason had ignored Revelle's
phone calls and avoided her at the stadium. Today she'd twist his left nut.

“I need to see Revelle too.”
Rhaden Dunn produced a similar note. “I'll go with you, if you don't mind.”

The two men rode the
elevator to the sixth floor, then crossed the skywalk to the corporate offices
located in the penthouse suites of Powers Tower. The team owner had invested
heavily in real estate. Fanning out from James River Stadium, he now owned
every building and parking lot in a five-block radius.

The teammates sauntered
down the hallway to player promotions. Revelle's office was situated between
public relations and business affairs.

Kason heard a door creak
and sensed stares. He glanced over his shoulder and found two women standing in
the hallway, checking him and Rhaden out. A third peered around the jamb.

Rhaden smiled, and Kason
shook his head. Both men kept right on walking. They were used to the once-overs.

As they stopped outside her
office, Kason's thoughts were on Revelle. They were about to face off.

He wanted to walk out of
her office the same way he would walk in: without a campaign.

“You can go first,” Rhaden
told Kason as he crossed to a cluster of chairs centered between hallways. “Take
it easy on Revelle.” His comment turned Kason around. Dunn looked worried. “She
gives eighty hours a week to the organization. She's pro-Rogue.”

“Lady needs a hobby or a
boyfriend.”

Rhaden shuffled the
magazines on a side table. “She has neither.”

“Maybe you could qualify as
her hobby.”

Rhaden ducked his head.
Heat reddened the back of his neck. The magazine he picked up and pretended to
read was upside down. The man was distracted.

Kason knocked on Revelle's
office door, then entered before she could officially welcome him. Dark green
leather and mahogany made the space elegant yet businesslike. An enormous
black-and-white photograph of James River Stadium circa 1935 covered half a
wall.

The picture captured a time
before the luxury suites, concession stands, and press boxes. Fans had taken
stairs to the upper decks, prior to the elevators and escalators. The stadium
had been renovated three times since its construction. Yet it still hadn't lost
the Roman Colosseum architecture favored by so many sports facilities.

All sportsmen were warriors
in their own right.

Noting his arrival, Revelle
half rose from behind her desk. A redhead with violet eyes and classic
features, she wore rimless glasses and a tailored black power suit that left
her sexless.

Her lips parted, then
closed. She frowned when he threw his body into a green leather club chair and
met her gaze squarely. Game on.

She nodded at him. “Kason
Rhodes.”

“Revelle Sullivan.” He
nodded back.

Greetings over, they stared
at each other until Revelle blinked. “You're bald.”

He cracked his knuckles. “You're
observant.”

“You look mean.”

“You look stressed.”

“I've a lot to do and
little time to do it.” She swept her hand across her desk. Three stacks of file
folders fought for space amid a computer, desk lamp, and a bouquet of lavender
roses. “Sorry about the mess. My assistant quit without notice. I'm trying to
regroup.”

She slipped off her
glasses, forced a smile. “Know anyone looking for a job? Someone who could
start tomorrow?”

Dayne immediately came to
mind. She'd mentioned needing more than the part-time hours offered at Frank's
Food Warehouse. He didn't, however, know her qualifications. He had no idea
whether she had office or computer skills.

He also wasn't ready to
tell her that he was a Rogue. So he shrugged, said, “No one at the moment.”

“If you think of someone,
send her my way. Hours and pay are good and we have great company benefits. I'm
also willing to train.”

She pulled a file from the
middle of the pile closest to her and withdrew a blank piece of paper. “I need
your Five Fun Facts for Rogues Highlights. You promised to send them in, but
apparently they got lost in the mail.”

Highlights was the free fan
brochure available at the stadium's main gate. It featured the ballplayers'
pictures, statistics, and personal info.

“Mail can be slow.” Kason
blew her off. “I'm sure the Fun Facts will arrive in a day or two.”

“Highlights goes to press
tomorrow,” she said evenly. “To be on the safe side, let's do the facts now.”

“Now isn't good for me.”

He pushed forward in his
chair, and she hit him with, “Go for the door, and I swear I'll tackle you.”

Lady had guts.

“Five questions, Kason,
quick and painless. Fans like to identify with their favorite players. These
are the people who fill the stands and pay your salary.” She poised her pen
over the paper. “Favorite candy bar?”

“Butterfinger.” He spoke
between clenched teeth. “Movies?”

“Blade Runner
and
Raiders of the Lost Arc.”

“
Music?”

“Bruce Springsteen and
early Bob Seger.”

“If you didn't play
baseball you'd...?”

“Be an architect.”

“Quote or philosophy?”

“Play hard, as if Opening
Day were October.”

Revelle peered at him over
the rim of her glasses. “Single or seeing someone?”

“That's more than five
questions.”

“The women on the sixth
floor want to know.”

The women who'd come out of
their offices to check him out. “I'm presently living with someone.”

“That will break a lot of
hearts.”

He didn't think of himself
as a heartbreaker. Dayne, however, did provide a good excuse. She hadn't
officially moved out. If women thought him involved, a few might respect his
relationship.

Revelle set the paper
aside, moved on. “Promotion time, Kason Rhodes. Ever hear of Platinum?” He
shook his head.

Revelle filled him in. “It's
an upscale jewelry shop. Gayle de Milo is known for her designer pieces,
commissioned for an elite clientele. She's recently branched out to a
cosmopolitan, more moderately priced line as well. She's planning a television
commercial, and she wants to feature you.”

Pimp jewelry? Not in this
lifetime.

The thought was so
ludicrous, Kason hit his feet. He wore a ten-year-old watch that lost five
minutes over the course of a year even with a new battery. He couldn't tell the
difference between fourteen-karat gold and gold plated.

He stood tall, arms crossed
over his chest. “I'm not your guy.”

“Gayle believes you'd be
perfect.”

“Gayle doesn't know me.”

“She's seen you play ball.
You're hard faced and your intensity is staggering. Her idea for the commercial
centers on romance: the bigger the man, the harder he falls when he meets the
right woman.”

“Get real.”

“Gayle hopes to shoot five
thirty-second commercials,” Revelle continued. “In the first—”

“No 'first,' “ he said,
cutting her off. “I'm not interested.”

She narrowed her eyes,
fight in her features. “It's my job to offer you the promotion. So hear me out.”

Kason admired the corporate
woman. She was all business and no bullshit. Because she was Guy Powers's
niece, she got one more minute. “Wrap it up.”

“The first television
segment will air in May. You'll enter Platinum, looking for a Mother's Day
gift.”

“My mother passed away ten
years ago.”

“It's television, Kason,
not true life.”

“You're asking me to play
someone I'm not?”

“It's acting, for all of
thirty seconds.”

“I'm not an actor.”

“Be yourself, then.” She
dismissed his concern. “Once inside the jewelry store, you'll check out the
other shoppers. You'll notice a pretty woman looking at earrings. You stare
long and hard until she looks up. Your eyes lock, sparks fly, and the shot
ends.”

His lip curled. “Is this
your idea of a joke?”

“Not, it's not a laughing
matter.” She straightened her shoulders. “With each segment, the scenes get
more and more intimate. By the fifth, the two of you will be engaged.”

“I don't do romance, rings,
or weddings.”

“Not even for a hundred
grand?”

“I don't need the money.”

“Give it to charity.”

“Get someone else.”

“Gayle de Milo's a good
friend,” Revelle confessed. “If she wants you, I'll nag you to death.”

“Nag away, Miss Sullivan.”

Her lips pinched. “Are you always
so uncooperative?”

“I gave you Fun Facts.”

“Give Platinum some
thought,” she urged. “I don't need your answer today.”

“My answer will be the same
tomorrow. Player promotions are optional. I opt out.”

“We'll meet again, Kason
Rhodes.”

Not unless it is court
ordered.

He nodded to Rhaden Dunn on
his way out, then headed for the elevator.

The afternoon had worn on.
It was time to move Dayne down the road. Kason didn't look forward to her
departure. Yet he knew, deep down, he did alone best.

Five

Rhaden Dunn's eyes fixed on
Revelle Sullivan the moment he entered her office. He was a big, strong jock,
yet in this woman's presence, his chest tightened and his palms grew sweaty.
The lady was so beautiful, she made him ache.