Covering Home (11 page)

Britt stood up and followed her. “I’m not committing to anything. It’s one picture from an aggravated … source. There’s no need to overreact.”

Marne paused, one hand on the knob. She pivoted on her heel, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Then perhaps you should’ve thought about that before you made a very public scene on the streets of Tokyo. My room. One hour.” She opened the door and stepped out, letting it slam shut behind her.

Britt sagged against the wall and closed her eyes.
What have I done?

Chapter Eleven

Caleb crossed the outfield one lunge at a time, his leg muscles burning with exertion. The weighted pole he balanced across his shoulders felt more like a hundred pounds instead of twenty. He paused and re-adjusted his sweaty grip on the foam-wrapped pole, then lunged again, eyes on the turf. If he didn’t look up, he wouldn’t have to know when Britt arrived at the Dome.

She was probably in hair and makeup right now, getting that silky blonde hair all curled and—he stumbled and swore under his breath. This was stupid. Why couldn’t he run the stadium stairs for hours instead? Endless trips up and down, until your whole body protested and you tossed your cookies. Stairs. The preferred punishment of coaches everywhere.

But not this coach. Shin was unlike any manager or coach he’d ever known. Even though Caleb’s encounter with Britt was splashed across the headlines and trending on social media, Shin appeared nonplussed by the world’s reaction. Caleb had braced himself for a serious lecture. A tongue-lashing for embarrassing the team, disgracing the ownership, blah, blah, blah. But Shin’s lecture in the clubhouse was all about ‘maintaining control’ and ‘keeping his composure.’

Not a problem. Well, except for yesterday. It wasn’t until recently that he’d struggled with his composure. He was normally cool as ice under pressure. But he’d defended Britt and look where it got him. He’d think twice before he loaned anyone his sweatshirt again.

It wasn’t about the sweatshirt, though, was it?

“Shut up,” he muttered, trying to silence the voice in his head.

Aaron sat on the turf nearby, stretching his hamstrings. “You okay, man?”

“Just peachy,” Caleb growled. “Having the time of my life. Thanks for asking.”

Aaron smiled. “Good. I was worried the extra attention would make you surly and obnoxious. Glad to see that’s not the case.”

Caleb bit back a snide reply and kept lunging. It wouldn’t do any good to alienate one of his few American teammates. Besides, he felt bad for being short with Aaron in the locker room yesterday.

“Caleb. Enough.” Shin called out. His athletic pants swished as he jogged toward Caleb.

Thank God.
Caleb dropped the pole on the ground and heaved out a breath, shaking out each leg.

“Time for abs. Kai’s bringing a weighted ball.” Shin motioned for their team’s athletic trainer to join them. “Core strengthening is an excellent workout for pitchers.”

What was next? Pilates? “Shin, I—”

Shin shook his head. “While you strengthen your core, you can think about your control.”

Adrenaline surged through Caleb’s veins. Kai stood behind Shin, a green ball anchored under his arm. “Control? My command was great yesterday. The ball went exactly where I wanted it to.”

Shin planted his hands on his hips and stared at the turf. Then he lifted his gaze to meet Caleb’s. “I wasn’t talking about pitching.”

He bit his lip, the silence heavy between them.

Shin stared at him, serious brown eyes indicating he expected compliance. “Kai knows what to do.”

Caleb nodded in resignation, and Shin left. So much for taking a day of rest.

“How’s your hand?” Kai’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Caleb glanced at his hand, flexing and extending his fingers. “It’s okay. A little swollen.”

Kai set the weighted ball down and reached for Caleb’s hand. “Let me see.”

He winced as Kai palpated the knuckle with the most swelling.

“Did you hear a sound when you hit him?” Kai’s brow furrowed as he turned the limb over and examined the pads at the base of each finger.

“Have you ever punched anybody?”

Kai glanced up, brown eyes gleaming. “No.”

“I wasn’t exactly listening when I hit him. The only sound I remember is Britt yelling at me to stop.” He gritted his teeth at the memory, still pained by her shocked expression.

Kai nodded, then released Caleb’s hand. “If the swelling stays, you’ll need an X-ray. Let’s finish this workout then start treatment. You’ll be fine.”

Fine? Caleb wiggled his fingers and drew in a deep breath, then exhaled quickly. He shook out his legs one more time and eyed the ball at Kai’s feet. That’s right. Everything would be fine. He’d nail this crazy workout, ice his hand, and stake out a seat with the other pitchers to watch the game. Discreet. Subdued. The picture of self-control. If he timed it right, he wouldn’t even have to see Britt before she went into the booth to call the game.

As Kai demonstrated the first exercise, Caleb tried to pretend that thought didn’t disappoint him.

p class="centered">***

“What do you mean we’re extending our stay?” Britt leaned around Wendy, the makeup artist, and glared at Marne. “I thought we were leaving on Friday?”

Marne stood near the vanity, dressed in black from head to toe. Her red curls were gathered at the crown of her head in a bushy ponytail. A few of the shorter ringlets refused to be tamed, and bobbed up and down every time she moved her head. Britt focused on those stubborn ringlets because Marne refused to look her in the eye. Instead, she stared at her phone. “We’re going to visit the Rays’ team facilities, conduct more interviews with players. Don’t worry, it will give you plenty of footage for
Covering Home
.”

Wendy swooped in with a sponge and a tube of concealer. Britt closed her eyes while her mind raced. There’s no way she’d miss Easter. She’d promised. Lucas and Kristi were hosting.

Except for Trent, the whole family would be together. Her niece, Lexie, had the most adorable lavender dress picked out, complete with a huge satin bow and a full skirt with maximum twirl factor. Kristi had texted a picture last week. Not to mention her nephews were all set to decorate and hide eggs. Britt had even found Star Wars-themed egg decorating kits. If she caught the first flight out on Saturday, she’d make San Francisco in time for Easter Sunday, but she’d be a wreck. Jet lag would render her worthless. “That’s not going to work for me. I have to be in the Bay Area this weekend.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Marne said. “We still have a lot of work to do.”

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air.
Oh.
Her eyes sprang open. She swallowed hard, heat rising to her cheeks. Wendy wouldn’t need to apply blush today. “If this is about yesterday, I—”

“This isn’t about yesterday. Not the game coverage, anyway,” Marne said.

“Then why the sudden change of plans?” Dark spots peppered her peripheral vision.
Take it easy.
This was a slippery slope. If she lost her temper now, there was no telling how Marne would react.

Marne tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Look. I tried to explain this earlier. The network decided we needed more of an insider’s perspective on what it’s like playing here.”

“And we can’t get enough of that today and tomorrow? You can cut to me more often tonight, what about covering the balloon release in the fifth inning? That’s unique.”

“We’ll cut to you whenever necessary for tidbits about Japanese culture, including the balloon release. But we still need more.” Marne looked up from her phone, a tight smile on her face while her eyes dared Britt to challenge her.

Wendy scooted behind her, loosening the oversized hot rollers in Britt’s hair and no doubt trying to avoid the conflict. Britt winced as Wendy’s brush snagged a tangle.

“Sorry,” Wendy murmured. “Almost done.”

Marne put her phone down. “Regardless of your headline-grabbing embrace, last night’s game was intense. The tension between Hashimoto and Caleb Scott was fun to watch. Fans want to know what Caleb’s doing here. The Tweets, the comments on Facebook about where he’s been and why none of the US teams could sign him—we’ve captured the interest of baseball fans, so we need to give them what they want. Part of your job is gathering that information.”

“I’ll get the interview,” Britt said, barely controlling her tone. “And that wasn’t an embrace.”

“Good. I know you’ve been warned about how dating a player could derail your career.”

Britt almost came out of her chair. “I didn’t realize you functioned as my agent, too. Kevin will be thrilled.”

Red splotches appeared on Marne’s neck. “I could do without the attitude, all right? We’re most likely staying until Saturday.”

“No.” Britt shook her head.

Marne arched one brow, her eyes an icy green. “This isn’t up for discussion, Britt. You campaigned hard for this, remember?”

Britt clenched her fists under the cape, a sickening sensation taking up residence in her gut. Was that a threat? She gathered her courage.
Don’t back down. Family is everything, remember?
“I have to be home for Easter.”

Marne studied her fingernails. “I see.”

Wendy dabbed a bit of gloss on Britt’s lips. Britt remained still, awaiting Marne’s response.
Please.

Marne sighed and reached for her phone. “I don’t see why we couldn’t have you out of here by Thursday. I’ll have Gretchen call and re-route your ticket.”

Britt locked eyes with Wendy and grinned. “Thank you, Marne.”

Wendy selected an aerosol can from her collection on the vanity and shook it. Shielding Britt’s eyes with one hand, she sprayed a liberal dose of the sweet-scented hairspray on her loose curls. Then she removed the cape from Britt’s shoulders with a flourish. “There you go. Knock ‘em dead, beautiful.”

Britt stood and checked her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t feel beautiful. While polished to perfection on the outside, she was quaking on the inside. There had to be a way out of this. She couldn’t spend forty-eight hours trailing Caleb and his teammates all over Tokyo. Her heart couldn’t take it. Not after last night.

She thanked Wendy and turned away from the mirror.

“Walk with me,” Marne said. “We need to talk about next week’s schedule, particularly how we’ll handle coverage on Opening Day.”

Britt followed Marne out of hair and makeup. “I thought Joe and I would be back in the studio.”

“That was the original plan. But there’s talk that we might do another remote broadcast, probably from a stadium in California. Of course, not every team opens at home, so—”

Marne led the way down the long corridor into the bowels of the Tokyo Dome, rattling off the logistics. Britt’s heels tapped out a rhythm on the concrete while her mind raced to keep up with her boss. Giants opened in Arizona this year, so that eliminated the Bay Area. Maybe she and Joe could host their show from Anaheim or Sacramento’s new field. If she didn’t have to fly all the way to Newark from San Francisco on Monday, that would be sweet.

“I think it’s a brilliant concept and would help with the jet lag issue, but—”

Before Marne could finish, a metal door on Britt’s right burst open. A Rays player walked backward toward them, oblivious that anyone stood outside. The dark hair, those shoulders …

“Thanks, Kai,” he called, “see you out there.”

“Hey, watch out.” Britt pressed her palm against his muscular back. His cleats came down on the toe of her high heel shoe. She sucked in a breath.

Caleb stumbled over her, twisting around and grasping her forearm. Britt clutched at his uniform to keep her balance, her heart beating double-time as their bodies pressed together. She dragged her gaze up to meet his.

Get a grip, girl.

His eyes, wide with surprise, travelled over her face, his hand still gently cupping her elbow. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Flustered by his careful appraisal, all of the oxygen left her lungs.
That was a loaded question.

Chapter Twelve

Say something
.
Please.
Caleb couldn’t stop staring at Britt. The blue dress emphasized her amazing eyes, while her hair hung past her shoulders in big, twisty curls. He held her arm, unable to let go. The air between them held the faintest aroma—floral and sweet, a heady scent he wouldn’t soon forget.

“Marne, could you give us a minute?” Britt stepped back, her fingers releasing his uniform while she averted her eyes and smoothed a non-existent wrinkle from her skirt.

“Of course,” Marne said. “Caleb, we’re looking forward to our tour of your home field later this week. Will you be our official tour guide?”

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Maybe Shin hasn’t shared the update yet.”

“Update of what?” Caleb stared at Britt. She avoided eye contact and fiddled with her earring.

“You’ve captured the curiosity of a nation, Caleb.” Marne’s eyes glinted. “Our fans are hungry for more. Have you considered writing a blog? How about Instagram? My assistant could set you up with an account in a couple of minutes.”

A blog?
He couldn’t decide if he should be shocked or outraged. Swallowing back a seething retort, he narrowed his focus, staring at Britt until she finally met his gaze.

She cleared her throat. “I think what Marne is trying to say is that the network sees great potential given the overwhelming response to your … situation.”

“Situation?”

“Yes. Why you’re playing here, what motivated you to sign with the Rays. Then the picture on the front of the paper. You’ve seen—”

“I’ve seen the paper.”

“It’s not just the newspaper. You’re all over the web. Look.” Marne held up her phone with her Twitter feed. “Caleb Scott, you’re trending right now. Did you even know you had a hashtag?” Marne’s green eyes sparkled.

He didn’t share her enthusiasm. “I have to give you credit. This is a brilliant move on the network’s part.”

Britt’s chin dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Wasn’t this part of your plan all along? Manufacture drama so you’d have something to talk about on your show?”