Better Than Perfect (12 page)

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Authors: Kristina Mathews

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“But we’ve all seen how dominant pitching can be more than enough to quiet even the loudest bats.” She smiled at him almost flirtatiously.

“I do believe that winning at any level requires teamwork. No one man can make or break a season,” Johnny said. “When I’m not as sharp as I need to be, I have guys behind me who will pick me up. When I threw my perfect game, my defense was spectacular. They made plays that weren’t human. It was like we fed off each other.”

“I’ve seen the replays of that catch in centerfield.” She nodded in agreement. “It was like Andrews sprouted wings.”

“He didn’t want to let me down.” Johnny would miss his old teammates. But most of them were gone, too. After making it to the American League Championship two years ago, they didn’t make the playoffs last year. The team wanted to move in a new direction. They let go or traded most of their stars. He wouldn’t be surprised if the team itself wasn’t up for sale in the next year or two.

“She glanced down at her notes. “According to my sources, you turned down a long-term contract offer from Chicago.”

“Who wouldn’t want to come to San Francisco?” He smiled for the camera. “The Goliaths organization is one of the finest in all of baseball. The ballpark is beautiful. The fans are amazing. And there’s a lot of talent on this team.”

“You’ll only add to that talent. And at a bargain price.” She leaned forward, making Johnny a tad uncomfortable. “I’m sure we’ll all be very pleased with the acquisition.”

“Thank you.” Johnny found that a simple response to praise was the easiest. He didn’t want to talk about his contract. His agent wasn’t very happy with him for accepting a lower offer, a one-year deal, but Johnny had his reasons for coming here. Getting a ring was only one of them.

“You’re already making your presence known here in San Francisco.” She tapped her pen against her thigh. “You’re participating in the Mel Harrison Jr. Foundation’s annual minicamp for youth players.”

“Yes. Actually, Mel Harrison was a friend of mine in college. I think it’s a…” Johnny swallowed, the sting of losing his friend causing an unexpected lump in his throat. “It’s a nice way to honor his memory.”

“I wasn’t aware of the connection.” Rachel sounded flustered for an instant. Like a straight-A student getting an answer wrong for the first time. “But I’m sure he’d be proud of the work you’re doing to help young ballplayers.”

“Yes. Kids are the future. Without them, there would be no reason to play.” Did that sound corny or what?

She laughed, a throaty, seductive laugh that made him feel more than a little uncomfortable. He wondered if she would ask him about his work with Zach. He hoped not. He wasn’t sure if he could explain why it was so important for him to take the boy under his wing. Why he felt like he owed it to Mel to help his son.

“The Harrison Foundation has made a difference in the lives of so many kids in our area.” She dialed down the charm enough to make Johnny relax. “They must have been pleased to have you step in at the last minute when Nathan Cooper was suspended.”

“I’m more than happy to help. I’ve met some terrific kids this week.” Johnny wanted to deflect the conversation away from steroids. The focus should be on the kids. On the game. “Real hard-workers. Eager to learn. Ready to play.”

“And they’re lucky to have such a stellar role model.” She got a certain glint in her eye. The conversation was about to get personal. “They call you ‘The Monk.’ Can you share the origins of that nickname?”

“I think it has something to do with the way I’m able to shut down all outside distractions.” Johnny breathed in, trying to bring that sense of calm to this interview, without going through his whole routine. “I keep my focus on the next pitch. I don’t think about the last one that didn’t fall right where I wanted it. I don’t think about the last time I faced this batter and whether or not he took me deep. And I don’t think about anything other than my game.”

“I have heard that theory.” She tilted her head just enough to signal she had something else in mind. “But something tells me it’s only part of the story.”

“Oh really?” Did she honestly have nothing better to talk about?

“Your reputation around the league is somewhat unique.” She smiled in a way that made him think she was almost embarrassed to take the questions in this direction. Almost. “Or is your celibacy exaggerated?”

“I prefer to keep my personal life private.”

“Is it because of a religious conviction?” Genuine curiosity in her tone was the only thing that made him willing to continue this conversation. That and the fact he was on camera.

“For some, baseball is like a religion. But no, it’s not because of any particular religious beliefs.” Johnny wondered if Alice would catch the broadcast. Now that he knew she’d been watching his entire career, he thought it was likely. “It’s more of a personal choice. If I’m not in a serious relationship, I choose to remain celibate. End of story.”

“You do have a lot of self-control.” Her gaze dropped to take in the whole package. “You’re a young, healthy, vibrant man.”

“Sure, and when I need a physical release, I go for a run, lift weights or play catch.”

“Well, that seems to be working. As your stats show.”

“Yes, I’ve been fortunate that I’m able to put all my energy into my game.” At least that’s what he’d been telling himself.

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” Was her curiosity professional or personal?

“Sure. But spending the night with a stranger doesn’t cure that.” He’d tried that. Once. He couldn’t get his mind off knowing Ali was spending her wedding night with someone else. With Mel.

“So, Johnny Scottsdale, you’re a romantic.” Her voice took on a wistful tone.

“No. Just practical.” He shrugged, hoping what he said next wouldn’t paint him as some kind of jerk. “I know that there’s an element of fantasy some women have about being with an athlete. Any athlete. Some guys are okay with that. I’m not.”

Great, now he sounded like he thought he was too good for any woman. “Besides, I’m afraid of lawyers.”

He punctuated that last remark with a sappy smile.

She laughed and then turned to the camera, wrapping up their interview. As soon as the camera stopped rolling, she turned back to Johnny.

“My boyfriend is a lawyer.” She unclipped her microphone, but kept talking.

“Then I’m sure he’d appreciate guys like me who understand that your friendliness and professional interest don’t mean anything more.” Johnny wished since the interview was officially over, he’d be free to leave.

“He would.” She gave him a smoldering look. “If my
ex
-boyfriend was the jealous type. Or the faithful type.”

Johnny shook his head and laughed. An awkward, uncomfortable laugh.

“Oh, come on, you’re a very attractive man, Johnny Scottsdale.” She leaned forward enough to provide a glimpse of her lace bra. It was turquoise. Not that he wanted to know.

“I’m sure you say that to all the celibate Cy Young Award winning ballplayers you interview.” Oh, hell that sounded an awful lot like flirting.

“I do.” She laughed, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. “I interview dozens of good-looking ballplayers. Most of them think they’re the greatest thing since free agency. You’re different. You’ve got that untouchable thing going.”

“I’m sort of seeing someone.” He felt heat creep up the back of his neck. He had no idea where that statement had come from. Wishful thinking?

“Oh, you don’t have to let me down that easy.” There was more than a hint of disappointment in her voice.

The heat spread across his cheeks, like razor burn. Even worse, his mind strayed to thoughts of Alice. Did he really want to start things up with her again? His body was ready. Like a rookie just called up late in the season.
Put me in, coach.
But his heart had doubts. She’d taken him deep last time. Real deep.

“So, who is she?”

Johnny shook his head, forgetting where he was for a moment. “Like I said before, my personal life is, uh, personal.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that kind of journalist.” She smiled, a you-can-trust-me kind of smile.

“No, I’m sure you’re a professional. And since our interview is officially over, I think I should stop talking.” He returned his most sincere fake smile.

“Johnny Scottsdale, you really are more than what meets the eye.” She dropped her gaze to his lap. “Not that what meets the eye is anything to complain about.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He tried to choose his words carefully. He didn’t need to get on a reporter’s bad side.

“Wow, do I really need to spell it out?” She shook her head, tossing her hair so it fell over one shoulder. “You’re completely unaware of the power you have over women.”

“It’s not me. It’s the uniform.” Johnny wished she’d just let it go. Let him go.

“It’s much more than that.” She leaned forward and rested her hand on his knee. “Yes, you’re an athlete. That means you’ve got an incredible body. But I see athletes every day. You’re different. You’re a challenge.”

“I’ve been told I’m emotionally challenged.” Why was he still talking to this woman?

“You just need the right woman to help you get in touch with your emotions.”

“I don’t think so.” Johnny shifted his leg, letting her hand fall. “I should get going. I’ve taken enough of your time.”

“I’m sure we’ll be spending plenty of time together over the course of the season.” She sounded very sure of herself. “I’m the dugout reporter. I’ll be interviewing you after your wins. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have the honor of catching you after your next perfect game.”

“I think that was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.” There were times when his perfection was more curse than blessing. It only made his less stellar performances stand out even more. Each failure loomed larger than before.

Maybe that was the explanation this reporter, and a few others, had been searching for. He’d had the perfect woman. He would never find another who could live up to her. So he’d quit looking.

He put everything he had into his game. Let it fill the empty spot in his life losing Alice had created. But he would be leaving the game behind someday. He needed to make sure he had something to take its place in his life. Or someone. And that someone could only be Alice.

* * * *

Alice grabbed the remote and switched off the TV. She didn’t need to watch anymore. It was painfully obvious the reporter was interested in Johnny. And he seemed to respond to her questions with an ease he didn’t often have during interviews.

She wondered how long it would take for the woman to jump him. Would she at least wait until the camera stopped rolling?

Jealousy was a stupid emotion. Alice wiped hot tears from her eyes. She had no right. No right at all to feel this way. She’d given him up. So the Rachel Parkers of the world could have a shot at loving the great Johnny Scottsdale.

For the past fourteen years, she’d managed to compartmentalize her feelings for Johnny. He was a baseball player. Nothing more. An image on TV. A statistic on the back of a baseball card. Not a man. A living, breathing, feeling man. She could be proud of him when he earned successes on the field. She could feel bad for him when he had a rough night on the mound. She could even pretend his personal life meant nothing. That she wasn’t secretly pleased he’d never married. That his love life never made headlines.

All that had gone away the minute he’d stepped back into her life. He wasn’t just a ballplayer anymore. He was a man.
The man
. The man who made her heart quake. Who turned her legs to jelly. The man who made her want to remember what it meant to be a woman.

And he might be the father of her son.

The weight of everything came crashing down on her. She’d given him up. Married Mel and raised Zach as his son. She’d tried to put Johnny out of her mind. Out of her heart. But she’d failed. Miserably. Now it was all catching up to her. With a vengeance.

“Hey Mom, guess who’s here…” Zach took one look at her face and concern overtook his usually cheerful features. “Are you okay? Have you been crying?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” She wiped her eyes and tried to force a laugh. “Something I saw on TV. You know how I get.”

She hoped he’d think she’d seen one of those sappy commercials for baby shampoo or greeting cards or something sentimental like that.

“Alice.” Johnny stood behind Zach. She’d been so wrapped up in her misery, she hadn’t even heard the door. “Did I come at a bad time?”

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