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Shin studied him. “You know her?”

Caleb set the empty glass on the table. “No. I don’t plan to, either.”

“I see. So many questions?”

“There’s no way—”

“And now we try a new thing never done before in history.” Mr. Watanabe’s halting English interrupted their conversation. Caleb’s scalp prickled. “We have many players representing both countries. People would like to know what baseball is like for Americans living in Japan. Today we ask press to share questions with us. Please go ahead.”

No.
A loud murmur spread like a wave across the room as the reporters scrambled for the open microphones planted in the aisles. Caleb wet his lips and wished he hadn’t guzzled his water. This was unprecedented for the Rays organization. They preferred to trot their players out at a press conference but keep a tight lid on their interactions with the media.

Well, look at that. Caleb’s heart lodged in his throat as Britt Bowen stepped up to the microphone in front of the stage and aimed her dazzling smile right at him.

“Thank you, Mr. Watanabe, for this opportunity. My question is for Caleb Scott. Mr. Scott, it’s well known that you’re in the habit of avoiding the media. It’s my understanding that the press coverage here in Japan is pretty intense, with reporters often scrutinizing your every move. What’s your approach to this kind of coverage, and what are your thoughts on the Japanese tradition of the hero’s postgame interview?”

Well. She had spunk, didn’t she?

Shin handed him a cordless microphone, dark eyebrows arched.

“Well, Miss Bowen, is it?” Caleb conjured his most sullen expression, the one he used to intimidate batters at the plate, and fixed his eyes on hers. “I applaud your extensive research regarding my preferences. However, if you’re implying that I might intentionally under-perform in an effort to avoid the postgame interview, I can assure you that would never happen. I have the utmost respect for the customs and traditions surrounding baseball in Japan and I’ll put forth my best effort every time I’m on the field.”

There. That should clear up any confusion.

“I wasn’t implying anything of the sort, Mr. Scott. I’m simply gathering information. It’s understandable that past experience might dictate your sensitivity regarding the press. Perhaps I’ll move on to your teammate, Aaron Wilson. Aaron, would you care to comment? What are your thoughts on the hero interview?”

Without missing a beat, Britt Bowen turned her attention to Caleb’s American teammate. Caleb sat slack-jawed, wishing he could crawl under the table. The truth was, just the thought of a postgame press conference or intense media scrutiny made him squirm. And she’d called him on it. Shifting in his chair, he tried to pay attention to the next question, vowing to choose his words more carefully next time. She might be stunning and quick-witted, but he wouldn’t let her get under his skin like that again.

Chapter Three

From his brother’s room on the tenth floor of the hotel, Caleb stood at the window and surveyed the plaza below. The fans were already lined up outside the stadium, awaiting the teams’ procession inside. And this was just for batting practice. He couldn’t imagine what game day would be like. That’s all right. He had a plan. Operation Twin Brother Decoy was underway.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” A plastic shopping bag crinkled, and Caleb turned from the window.

Ben slipped the Seibu Rays T-shirt over his head and then ripped the tag off the new baseball cap with his teeth.

“I cleared it with Shin. Otherwise you’ll have to run the gauntlet.”

“What gauntlet?” Ben came and stood by the window, tucking his new shirt into the waistline of his nylon athletic pants. “Sheesh. What a circus. Who puts a Ferris wheel next to a baseball stadium?”

Caleb laughed. “It’s not just any Ferris wheel. The world’s first and largest centerless Ferris wheel. There’s a roller coaster that shoots right through the middle. Crazy, right?”

“We’ve got to try that. What a rush.”

“You can take the boy out of the rodeo, but you can’t take the—”

Ben held up both hands. “Nope. My bull riding days are over.”

“Seriously?”

“It takes me away from the ranch too much. Dad’s not getting any younger, you know.”

Caleb stilled. “We talked about this. You know I’d be there in a heartbeat if you needed me.”

“Relax, dude. This isn’t a guilt trip. I’m just making conversation.”

“Sorry. I’m a little worked up after that press conference.”

Ben arched one eyebrow. “She gets you all riled up, doesn’t she?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see how she marched up to that microphone and started firing questions?”

Ben grinned. “You’ve got to give her credit for leading with the big question, right?”

“That was more like a curveball,” Caleb grumbled, slinging his bat bag over one shoulder. “Come on, the bus leaves in ten minutes.” Although he’d tried to conceal it, Ben’s response confirmed his fear. Britt Bowen’s audacious approach had rattled him.

He waited while Ben pocketed his wallet and cell phone. As the door slammed shut behind them, Caleb turned away from the bank of elevators located to the right of Ben’s room.

“Where are you going? The elevators are this way.”

Caleb kept walking but called back over his shoulder. “Players are supposed to use the service elevator when we’re in uniform. Keeps the crazed fans from mauling us.”

“But I’m not a player.”

“Today you are. Follow me.”

A door opened somewhere behind them and voices echoed through the hall. Caleb quickened his pace. Playing professional baseball back in the States hadn’t disrupted his personal life much. But when he started dating Amanda, his celebrity status skyrocketed overnight. She’d taught him everything he knew about flying under the radar. It didn’t take much to convince the Japanese management to implement some of her tricks.

Caleb smiled as they rounded a corner where the elevator waited. She would be proud of him. He swiped a plastic card through the black box on the wall, and the doors opened. They stepped into the cavernous elevator and Caleb pressed the button for the lobby.

“Look at you, all James Bond with your top secret elevator. I’m surprised you didn’t have to scan your retina or something.”

“Laugh it up, cowboy. You’ll thank me later when I get you into the stadium without somebody ripping your new shirt off.”

“Whoa. Now you’re talkin’. I knew I’d like it here.”

Caleb shook his head as the elevator carried them down to the lobby and the bus that would whisk them to the players’ entrance on the back side of the Tokyo Dome. How could two people who’d shared the same womb be complete opposites?

The crowd inside the Tokyo Dome was raucous.

Fans of all ages filled the seats, waving blue flags with the white R emblazoned on them.

The mascot, an oversized stingray stuffed inside a navy and white shirt, paraded around the field tossing stuffed animals into the outstretched hands of delighted children.

Britt stood behind the mesh backdrop that shielded the first row of seats from home plate, shaking her head in disbelief as a squad of scantily-clad cheerleaders staked out their territory along the third base line.

“They know this isn’t a game day, don’t they?”

Paul glanced up from his smartphone. “I heard even the first day of batting practice is cause for celebration around here.”

A roar went up from the crowd as a small contingent of Seibu Rays players exited the tunnel and made their way toward the dugout. Britt watched the American players with their Japanese teammates, laughing and swapping high fives as they deposited their matching bags in the dugout. Like a regimented platoon, they all took to the field and formed five neat lines of eight. Shin stepped in front of the group and initiated a stretching routine. A manager that charms sportscasters, yet leads the team warm up. Interesting. Just who was this Shin fellow, anyway?

Movement in her peripheral vision distracted her. She turned and watched a tall, raven-haired man in a T-shirt and navy workout pants settle into a chair in the first row a few yards away. He lifted his Rays hat to scratch his head, and her breath caught in her chest.

She glanced back toward the field where she quickly located Caleb Scott,

chatting it up with his teammate while they stretched

their hamstrings. This was too good to be true. Caleb Scott had an identical twin. And he was three yards away. Alone.

Britt patted Paul’s arm. “Be back in a few.”

She grabbed a notepad and her favorite pen from the briefcase at her feet and made her way toward Caleb’s brother. The resemblance was striking: same dark hair, although this one kept his short—a sharp contrast to Caleb’s locks that curled over his collar. Same prominent nose and high cheekbones. The brother turned and caught her eye, breaking out in an easy grin. Well, looky there. This one was friendlier, for sure.

“Hi.” She offered a warm smile and extended her hand. “Britt Bowen with the Epic Sports Network. How are you?”

“Even better now.” His eyes held hers for a long second and an inkling of doubt wiggled its way in.

He was charming. Very charming. Maybe this was a bad idea. “You must be Caleb’s brother?”

“Ben Scott. Younger by three minutes.” He patted the chair next to him. “Have a seat. I promise I don’t bite.”

Britt sank into the hard plastic chair. The noise and the chaos swirling around her competed with her brain’s ability to do what it always did in this situation … generate a list of questions for this impromptu interview.

“Nice shirt and hat, by the way. Are you one of these crazed Rays fans I’ve been hearing so much about?”

“I’m a decoy. Shhh. Don’t tell,” Ben said in an exaggerated whisper, pressing his index finger to his lips.

“A decoy?” Britt felt her chin drop. “You’re sitting here so people won’t try to talk to your brother?” Of all the ploys she’d seen celebrities invoke to avoid the press, this just moved to the top of her ‘most ridiculous’ list. She couldn’t wait to tell Marne and Paul.

“Yep. Looks like it’s working pretty well, don’t you think?” He caught her eye again and winked.

She bit her lip to suppress a smile and scribbled a few lines on her notepad.

“So, Mr. Scott, I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve used your genetics to mislead someone. Tell me about the other pranks you two got away with growing up in—” She peeked at her notes. “Wyoming?”

“You’ve done your research. Very impressive, Miss Bowen. Yes, I’m sorry to tell you that Caleb and I have six brothers.”

Britt’s pen clattered to the cement floor. “You’re kidding.”

“For my mother’s sake, I wish I were. True story.” He reached down and rescued her pen.

“
Eight
boys. I don’t even know what to say.” She took the pen back. “Thanks.”

“Well, whatever you say in response, we’ve probably heard it. You wouldn’t believe the comments people used to make when she’d take us into town to shop for clothes.”

“Into town? So you grew up in the country?” She scribbled more notes on the page.

Ben nodded. “On a ranch. My dad took over the business from his dad and some of my brothers and I have partnered with him.”

“But not Caleb.”

“Not Caleb.” Something flickered over Ben’s face for an instant, then disappeared. “He’s loved baseball more than anything, well … almost anything. Our mother, underprivileged children and Amanda are the only things to knock baseball off its pedestal.”

Britt froze at the mention of Caleb’s fiancC)e. Former fiancC)e. Their pictures had graced the covers of every magazine and dominated the entertainment news. Everyone speculated when the talented baseball player and beautiful movie star would get married. They were America’s sweethearts—a flawless power couple.

“I’m more interested in why Caleb’s playing in Japan. But if you’d like to share your insights regarding his past, I have to admit, I’m curious.” Any details that revealed more of his brother’s mysterious intentions would definitely help her out.

Ben shrugged, looking out at the field. “Not much left to tell. The press talked of little else for weeks. As a broadcaster, I’m sure you’re well aware of the details.”

Britt tapped the end of her pen against her notepad. She’d been in her dressing room at
Good Morning San Fran
when the news broke about the accident. “I’m in the industry and I love baseball. Of course I watched the coverage. How did your family respond to the tragedy?”

“I see what you did there. Very subtle, your questions. But let’s talk about you for a sec. How did you get from a morning talk show to an all-baseball network?”

Darn
. He wasn’t as chatty as she thought. “Honestly? I think it was God’s way of getting me out of California.”

“That bad, huh?”

“No.” She crossed one leg over the other. “Let’s just say I’ve been Daddy’s girl for a while and it was time to sever the … strings.” She stopped herself before she said ‘purse’. It was never about the money, although unlimited access to her father’s fortune was a blessing. Sometimes. But if she wanted to work in baseball, she had to leave California and his sphere of influence.