Curveball (13 page)

“What are you saying?” Paige’s voice began to rise and the thuds came more rapidly.
“You think Chance is like some freako serial killer, running around town killing ballplayers?”

Thud, thud.

“Keep your voice down.” Cat glanced nervously at Joe’s closed door. “I didn’t say
that. I just think it’s weird how he acted like he didn’t even know that kid but then
his mom—”

Thud, thud.

Paige lowered her voice to a hiss. “His mom was pissed off that her loser son couldn’t
hack it and took her grief out on Chance because he didn’t want to represent his shitty
ass.”

Thud, thud.

Cat wheeled her chair over and wrapped her hand around the black Valentino stiletto
heel. “Stop that.”

Paige kicked her leg out of her grasp and uncrossed her legs.

Cat scooted back to the center of the desk. “Maybe that is what happened. I don’t
know. I’m just saying that between the scene the other night and this Dutch runaround,
Chance seems shady.”

“Fine.” Paige flipped her hair out of her face with the back of her hand. “You think
Joe is such a good scout? Well, so am I.”

Cat scoffed.

“Hey, maybe I can’t tell the difference between a slider or a slurve but I have my
own skills.” She counted them off on each finger. “I always knew which Alpha got her
hair color from a box. I was the first to figure out what the Phi Delt house was growing
in their basement.” Paige pointed the last finger down to Cat’s shoes. “And I can
say without a doubt that the labels on those are more likely to say David Spade than
Kate Spade.”

Cat looked down and shuffled her knockoffs under the desk. “Are not.”

Paige’s mouth spread in self satisfaction. “I always know when someone is hiding something
and Chance is not. He might look like James Franco’s stand-in, but trust me, he could
never play the villain.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed on
speakerphone.

“What are you doing?”

“Proving you wrong.” It began ringing. “Be quiet.”

Cat shot an apprehensive look over to Joe’s closed door.

“Hello?”

It took her only a second to recognize the deep voice. She suspected death row inmates
could do the same when they heard the voice of the judge that sentenced them.

“Hi Daddy.”

“Paige ...” He sounded wary. “What’s wrong?”

Paige winced, the hurt painted all over her face. Cat instantly forgave her for the
comment about her shoes.

“Nothing’s wrong. I was just calling to say hi.”

“Uh-huh. How much do you need?”

“I don’t need anything, Daddy. I was just calling to say hi.”

“Really?” There was a dash of hope in his voice.

“Really.”

“How’s Cat?”

“She’s good.” Paige perked up with this, giving her a showy wink. “She’s in a meeting
with Joe right now.”

“Are you supposed to be there?”

“No, Dad.” She took a short breath. “I’m supposed to be right here, at my desk, which
I am.”

“Okay.”

“Things really are good. I was the first one here this morning.”

“Good. That makes me really happy, Paige.”

A dull hum occupied the long pause.

“I’m learning a lot, too.”

“Good.”

“I even discovered a shady talent agency and put them on a blackball list today.”

“You did?” Roger sounded incredulous. “By yourself?”

“Yep.”

Cat shot her a dirty look and Paige rolled her eyes.

“Well, Cat helped fill it out but I submitted it.”

“There’s a lot of them out there, even here in the States. It’s worse there though.
About a decade ago the commissioner set up an office down there for regulation but
it’s like swatting flies. You kill one and a minute later there’s another one.”

“That’s what Joe said, too. This one was charging players a thousand bucks just to
sign with him.”

“That’s terrible. What else is going on?”

“Well I met an agent. He seems like a nice guy but I was wondering if you could check
to see if he’s legit—”

“Paige.”

Cat may not have had her own dad speak to her like that in … well,
ever
, but she’d watched enough episodes of
Full House
to know there was a lecture coming.

“What?”

“Don’t do this. Don’t act like you’re some Charlie’s Angel down there looking for
trouble. You found one bad agency, leave it at that. Do the job the Soldiers pay you
for.”

Pay?

Cat had just assumed Paige’s joke of an internship was unpaid, not that she condoned
such. Back in her junior year at LSU, one of her favorite professors had helped her
get an offer for an unpaid internship with a Pulitzer-winning paper, but Cat had to
pass it onto a more affluent student who could actually afford to work for three months
without compensation. The whole system depended on the kind of upper class back-scratching
that she found repulsive: the Young Republicans of America get an impressive stepping
stone for their résumés and the corporations get twenty-first-century slave labor.
It just figured that Paige Aiken had not only scored a coveted three-week internship
in the Caribbean, but they were actually paying her to file her nails and shop online.

Probably more than they’re paying me to watch her file her nails and shop online.

She glared at Paige, but the girl’s eyes were focused on the floor as she twirled
her hair, struggling with her end of the conversation.

“Dad, I didn’t look for this. Cat and I actually met this guy and his player but he
doesn’t even want to let Joe scout him.”

He clicked his tongue into the phone. “Uh-huh. What’d Joe say?”

“Well uh, Joe said he’s probably just a bad agent.”

“There you go.”

“But Cat thinks it’s weird, too.” She looked to Cat for help.

Cat shrugged helplessly. She hadn’t been keen on bringing the boss man into this anyway.
She wanted Roger to think Paige was under control.

He sighed. “Don’t make waves down there, please.”

“Fine.” Paige’s voice broke. She swallowed and took a deep breath. “Just forget it.
I better get back to work.”

“I know how you are, sweetie. You’re just chasing excitement.”

“Whatever.”

“Besides, not every agent can be as good as Sheldon.”

“Uncle Sheldon.” Paige’s face lit up and she smiled at Cat. “How is he doing?”

“He’s good. I told him you were down in Santo Domingo and he said to tell you to be
sure to visit
El Sendero del Cacao
and bring him back a box of their truffles, but don’t tell Helen because his doctor
put him on a low-fat diet.”

Paige laughed.

“You should give him a call sometime, it would make his day.”

“I’ll do that.”

Cat could practically see a light bulb flickering above her. It was a nice change
to see
something
going on in that empty head.

“I have to go now, Dad.”

“Okay Paige. I love you. Be safe.”

“Love you too.”

Paige hit the end button and grinned at Cat. “Screw that. You want to get something
done in baseball, forget Rakin’ Aiken. Sheldon Markowitz is your man.” She thumbed
through the cell phone and showed the screen to Cat. An office phone number, cell
phone number, home phone number, office email address, home email address, office
fax number, home fax number and an emergency answering service were all stored in
her contacts under Sheldon Markowitz.

Cat whistled. “I guess baseball’s fiercest agent is a man who doesn’t like to miss
anything.”

Paige nodded and dialed, shushing her with a finger when it stopped ringing.

“Markowitz.” He spoke with a sharp, halting bark.

“Uncle Sheldon?”

“Paigey?” The bark turned into a jovial howl. “I know this can’t be my favorite niece
because she’s a big jet-setting executive for baseball’s most exclusive franchise.”

“It’s me!”

“Good to hear from ya, Paige. You know, you have me to thank for that name. Hand to
God, your dad was going to name his baby girl Satchel.”

Paige giggled and rolled her eyes at Cat. “That story never gets old.”

“I told him he could either name you Paige or find another agent. I’m not going to
represent a child abuser.”

“I can’t ever thank you enough.”

“Well maybe I’ll need a kidney someday.”

Judging from his rough, scratchy voice, Cat figured a lung was more likely.

“It’s all yours.”

“How’s the family?”

Paige shrugged and looked at the floor again. “Eh, they’re family.”

“And how’s Jackie?”

Cat perked with interest. She’d forgotten there even was another Aiken daughter. Jackie
stayed out of the spotlight, except for one mention in
Tinsel Magazine
when she was voted the Aiken Sis Most Likely Not to Star in a Sex Tape.

“Fine, I guess. She never calls me.”

“She never calls me either, kiddo. I think your dad said she was living in Long Island?”

“Yup, the golden child and her stockbroker husband live in a Sagaponack McMansion
with their two-point-five children.”

Paige spoke about her soccer mom of a sister with the same shamed disgruntlement Cat
reserved for her jailbird father.

“Golden child? I don’t believe that for a second. Jackie’s a good girl but let me
tell you something, Paige. You’re special.”

Special like a snowflake … in a blizzard.

“Tell that to my dad.”

“I have. Just last week, I told him you’re meant to be more than a suburbanite schlepping
to the grocery store in a minivan. Speaking of which, do you like Santo Domingo?”

“I like it.” She smiled at Cat. “Sun and sand: what else do you need?”

“I hear that. Not that I doubt your motives, Paige-turner, but why do I get the feeling
this is more than just a social call?”

Paige simpered. “Can’t fool you.”

His chuckle crackled through the cell phone speaker. “Never play a player.”

“I was wondering if you could give me any info on an agent down here.”

“Sure. This guy dirty?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I called the great and mighty Sheldon Markowitz for help.”

“Save the sugar for another time. I already said I’d help you. What’s this chucklehead’s
name?”

“Chance Hayward.”

“Chance Hayward? Sounds made up.”

Cat scoffed. “Matches his personality.” She cringed the second the words slipped out
and she clapped her hand to her mouth.

“Who’s that with you?”

Paige widened her eyes at Cat. “That’s who Dad sent me down here with. She’s reporting
for the team. Cat—”

“McDaniel.” He groaned. “Yeah, I know her.”

Cat frowned at the phone, momentarily forgetting he couldn’t see her. “Um … is there
a problem?”

“Just that your last little adventure in baseball ended with two of my clients on
the unemployment line.”

Cat clenched her hands into tight fists and leaned on them as she got closer to the
speaker. “As a man who spends his entire life looking out for players’ best interests,
I know you can’t be telling me that you have a beef with me for outing a man who was
virtually poisoning an entire team?”

Sheldon merely answered with a grunt.

Paige shushed her with a soft hand smack on her arm. “Can we get back to this guy,
Uncle Sheldon?”

“Okay, doll. What’s his company?”

“He’s with a firm called Worldwide Baseball Talent Management.” She paused until she
heard the paper rustling stop. “They do a lot of business in the Netherlands.”

“Let me jot this down. Worldwide … Baseball … Management?”

“Talent Management.”

“You say he buys wooden shoes?”

“Uh … what?”

Uncle Sheldon laughed. “That’s insider jargon, doll, you’ll have to learn it. He gets
his kids out of the Dutch system?”

Cat made a mental note to see if he was jerking their chain. She’d never heard any
such term.

What else can you expect from a game that gives you slang like
dying quails
,
Uncle Charlies
and
high cheese
to describe surprise hits, nasty curveballs and fastball strikes?

“No, he sends them there.”

Sheldon paused. “He sends his players where? The Netherlands?”

“Yeah.”

“He an agent or a scout?”

“An agent.” She looked at Cat. “Why? What are you thinking?”

“Agh, who says I’m ever thinking? I’ll give him a look-see for ya. Just give me a
couple of days to get my guy on it. I’m elbow-deep in extension talks for Griffin
Taylor right now. You know that team hit three point three million in attendance last
year but that cheap bastard of a GM has the nerve to play the ‘we’re a low budget
and small market’ card with me?”

“Get him.”

“You know I will.” He chuckled. “I will indeed. Anyway, I’ll get back to you this
week, okay, doll?”

“You’re the best.”

“That’s what they tell me. Take care down there, Paige. Don’t let that reporter friend
of yours get you in too much trouble.”

Paige’s mouth seesawed into an amused smile. “I won’t. Bye-bye.”

“Later gater.”

Once she saw the call end, Cat huffed and rolled her eyes.

Paige smiled. “If there’s anything shady about Chance, he’ll find it.”

“Nice guy.”

“He really is. You just have to get to know him as Uncle Sheldon instead of Markowitz.”

Now that she’d heard his delightful personality for herself, the nickname made Cat
laugh. “You know, I’ve overheard players call him ‘Witzy’ as he secured them multi-million
dollar contracts and general managers grumble about ‘the Sharkowitz’ when their star
player signed with him, but I’ve never heard anyone call him ‘Uncle Sheldon.’ ”

“Well you probably never seen him bring someone a new My Little Pony every time he
came over.”

Cat’ face broke into a genuine smile. She had loved the pastel toy horses too; she
just assumed Paige’s childhood was spent collecting real ponies. “That’s nice.”

“Yeah.” Paige’s nostalgic smile faded. “It didn’t take me long to figure out that
he wasn’t actually my father’s brother—and not because he’s a white Jew from Chicago.”