Curveball (20 page)

“Whatcha doing?”

Cat jumped, dropping her sandwich on the desk. The avocado spilled out.

She twisted around to find Paige directly behind her chair. “You scared me,” she glared,
“again.” She used a Kleenex to clean up the green mush smeared on the desk.

Paige squinted at the laptop. “Hayward, California?” She moved around to the front
of the desk. “Going on a trip?”

Cat closed the lid quickly. “No. I’m just looking for something.”

Paige crossed her arms, too. “That
something
wouldn’t be Chance Hayward, would it?”

“No.”

Cat shook her head rapidly, as if speed might lend her credibility. “I’m
not
. If you
must
know, I’ve got an aunt in Hayward. I was looking for a flower shop.” She aimed for
bland smile. “It’s her birthday today.”

“Oh really?” Paige hopped on the desktop. “How old is she?”

“Fifty-nine.”

“How nice. Dad’s sister or mom’s?”

“Uh, my mom’s.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “You know, I once played strip poker with the entire Fillmore
rugby team.”

“How nice.” Cat tossed the remnants of her sandwich in the garbage and leaned back
in her chair. “And here I thought you didn’t have much of a work history.”

“I walked away with twelve pairs of boxers.” Paige leaned in. “My point is, I know
when someone’s lying through her lipstick-stained teeth.”

Cat ran her tongue over her front teeth, giving each one a firm scrub.

“Why are you searching for Chance?” Paige’s tone was no longer casually mocking. It
was now accusatory, as was the flat, hard expression in eyes.

“I was just seeing if his agency had a website.”

“Why?”

“I’d like to contact Cristian, the Busboy.”

“Why don’t you just ask Chance?”

“I thought this would be easier.”

Easier
would’ve been opting for her first plan this morning. She and those Manolo Blahniks
could be halfway to Cuba by now.

Paige raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth, but she was distracted by Junior’s entrance.
Bouncing off Cat’s desk, she sauntered toward him.

“Hi!” Tapping one of the two soda cans he carried, she said, “Coco Rico! How did you
know I was craving that?”

Junior’s eyes darted back and forth between them. “Uh, actually this is for Cat.”

Paige recoiled, her expression a mix of shock, pain and—if Cat wasn’t mistaken—embarrassment.
“Oh.”

Cat stood up and wiggled around Paige’s all-too-prominent hips. “That is so sweet.”

Her hand brushed against his fingers as she accepted the can. The sensation of his
skin on her skin brought her mind back to the sultry dance floor. The condensation
on the dewy can dripped off her fingers.

“Aw, so sweet.” Paige crossed her arms. “Who needs orchids when you can have empty
calories?”

Junior shrugged, avoiding Paige’s harsh glare as he said to Cat, “I remembered that
you like it.”

“I do. I think it’s my new favorite.”

They smiled at each other. Cat sucked in her breath. The attraction was even harder
to deny in the light of day.

Paige cleared her throat, still glowering.

Junior’s confidence returned with a wide smile. “I’ve got a couple minutes for a break.
Join me on the patio?”

Cat glanced at the laptop on her desk. “Yeah, I could use one, too.” She wasn’t getting
any work done here anyway. She shot a warning look at Paige.

“Stay out of trouble.”

Paige huffed and rolled her eyes.

The facility’s patio was located next to the practice fields. In addition to the view
of young ballplayers training for their futures, it showcased the rolling green hills
in the distance, or at least she thought so, if she squinted hard enough and looked
between the endless rows of residential towers. Junior pointed to the Terrazzino’s
empty concrete table, shaded beneath a row of lush palm trees.

She said, “Another steamy Santo Domingo afternoon, huh?”

He nodded. “Believe it or not, this is actually the start of our dry season. That’s
the tropics for you.”

She shrugged. “It beats blizzards.”

He gave her a teasing nudge with his elbow as they approached the table. “Tell me
again why you want to move to Buffalo?”

Cat sat the soda on the table and took off her short-sleeved jacket, exposing her
sleeveless vest. She laid the jacket across the concrete seat and slipped between
the bench and the table. Junior scooted in beside her, despite the two other benches
that curved around the table. She reached for the soda can, which hissed delightfully
as she pulled up the tab. She didn’t dare hide her excitement as she took her first
glug. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the cold, fruity fizz down her throat.

Junior was grinning at her when she opened her eyes. “You know, there’s a tiki bar
down the road that serves these in actual coconuts.”

“Really?” She widened her eyes to match her smile. “Any good?”

“Delicious.” He took a sip of his, slurping the rim of the can when he was done. “And
I don’t even like coconut.”

She laughed.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything with you and Paige back there.”

Cat cringed, wondering how long he’d been observing. “Did it look that bad?”

“The words ‘Spanish Inquisition’ come to mind. Do I dare ask what she’s done now?”

She shook her head. “No. It wasn’t about her.” She hesitated. “Or at least, not directly.”

He set his drink down and turned toward her, straddling the bench seat. “What’s going
on?”

“Okay.” Cat knew the patio was empty but took a second glance around. “Last night,
do you remember when we were having dinner at
La Tambora
?”

“I do. I doubt Paige does, but that’s generally what happens when you spend your evening
shotgunning Mama Juanas.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” She scrunched her nose. “Actually the half of it
was splattered all over
La Concha Gran Hotel’s
elevator.”

His grimace matched her own. “Oh man.”

“I know.” The elevator’s stench left a bad taste in her mouth. She took a quick swig
of the Coco Rico to wash it out. “Anyway, I left the table to talk to the busboy,
Cristian. You remember that, right? I’m not crazy?”

Junior nodded. His eyes were wide as he hung on her every word. “I remember. Who is
he, again?”

“He’s the kid who was represented by Chance Hayward.”

“Okay, that makes sense. Paige muttered something when you went over there. About
him being a pitcher you were interested in scouting.”

“That’s the one. Anyway, apparently a deal Chance had made for him with a Dutch team
fell through and Cristian was back like a day later. That’s why I went over to talk
to him. He seemed pretty upset and I left it at that. Only I saw him later at
La Puerta del Infierno
.”

“I don’t remember—”

“It was after I stepped outside. We’d been, uh, dancing.” Cat averted her eyes, not
wanting to see his reaction to the blush she felt suffusing her face.

“Oh.”

“He was in the alley getting roughed up by some well-dressed goons.”

Junior’s face paled. “Oh God, they didn’t see you, did they?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

He swallowed. “Some of the touristy establishments in town here, like
La Tambora
and
Gates of Hell
, have a reputation. They’re a little …” Junior took his index finger and pushed his
nose to the left side.

“Smelly?”

He rolled his eyes and frowned.

She blew out a sigh. “Gimme a break. I’m bad at Charades. What? Crooked noses?”

“You’re half right. Some people think they’re operated by an organized crime circuit
in this town.”

Her jaw dropped. “Organized—you mean like a mob?”

He nodded. “What would they want with Cristian? Maybe your friend got himself into
some trouble.”

Cat clasped the aluminum can, tapping it with her fingernails. “More than
maybe
. He was supposed to meet me this morning at
Catedral Primada de América,
but he never showed. He had told me he had the lunch shift at
La Tambora
but when I went there, they claimed they had no idea who I was talking about. Then
the owner came out and I recognized him as one of the goons from the alley.”

Junior’s eyes grew as wide as the soda can’s lid. “Why would he work for a man who’d
just kicked his ass?”

“Maybe he didn’t have a choice.”

He shrugged. “Or maybe Cristian was stealing tips so they kicked his ass and fired
him.”

“Then why lie? Why not just say ‘the thief was fired’?” She sighed and rubbed her
forehead. “There’s more.”

He waited, eyes wide with curiosity.

Cat bit her lip. “I’m not supposed to say anything. I promised.”

“I think that’s voided when the promisee goes missing.”

She considered for just a second and nodded, casing the patio once more before speaking.
“Okay, last night he said something about it all being a scam. That’s why we were
meeting.”

“What’s a scam? The restaurant? The club?”

“Mm-mm. This all started with that shady baseball deal and that guy Paige was hanging
all over, Chance Hayward. I don’t trust him one bit.”

“He’s oily, all right.”

“I know.”

“There’s a lot of them down here,” he said in a disgusted drawl. “So-called agents.”

“It’s more than just that. Have you ever heard of a sports agent refusing to let a
big league club look at his client?”

He shook his head emphatically. “Never in the three years I’ve been here.”

“I mean, that’s supposed to be their ultimate goal, am I right?”

“Totally, that’s how they make their money.”

“Well, he’s got tons of money and the only two ballplayers I know he’s had any contact
with have gone missing. He’s got to be up to something.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I thought maybe he was charging his clients but then another idea popped into my
head. What if he’s getting kickbacks from this Dutch team? I was going to pry it out
of Cristian which team it was but I can’t get a hold of him. He was the only link.
I don’t know any of Chance’s other clients.” She shrugged. “If he has any other clients.”

Junior’s lips stretched into a furtive smile. “Correction. You
didn’t
know any of his clients. I happen to know an eager Latino looking for an agent.”
He scanned the field behind her.

She turned around but the playing field was empty. She looked back at him, meeting
his dancing eyes. “Who?”

“Me.”

The knock at the door propelled her off the plush hotel bed. The soft rap was expected,
so that wasn’t what had caused her heart to leap into her throat. Rather, what had
left her so jumpy was what she knew waited behind the slab of wood. She gave her hair
a quick tousle and took a deep breath, clasping the door handle with her shaky hand
and pulling it toward her.

Junior stood in the doorway, tanned muscles bulging through his thin shirt and khakis.
Even his biceps rippled, despite the fact that he was standing still. In his hands
was a bouquet of orange Mokara orchids, which he handed her with a soft bat of his
eyelashes. She took one look at the exotic star-shaped flowers and tossed them behind
her. Instead, she reached for him, gripping his
Guayabera
shirt by its thin linen. The top row of buttons ripped open as she pulled him toward
her. His mouth curved into a surprised and delighted smile. He wrapped his arms around
her and kicked the door shut behind him. His lips crushed down on hers. He took a
step forward and pinned her against the hard hotel wall. His tongue played with hers
before his lips broke off to trail down her neck. His hand ran up from her waist and
explored the rest of her body. Only a thin layer of silk crepe separated her soft
skin from his magical hands. His fingers toyed with the ruched bodice, caressing the
tops of her breasts that peeked out of the strapless dress. He slid his strong arms
behind her waist and pressed her body into his. With ease, he lifted her. She wrapped
her legs around his waist and he carried her across the room, where she fell backwards
onto the silky duvet and he climbed on top of her.

No
.

She blinked the fantasy away. Her hand was still trembling on the door handle, more
so now that her mind had taken a ten-second vacation to Harlequin. She double-checked
her old Chips jersey and tattered jeans; they were a far cry from the Jason Wu she
could only afford in a tawdry fantasy.

She turned the handle; this time it opened to a t-shirted Junior holding, not stemmed
romance, but a six-pack and large square box that reeked of cheese and garlic.

“Room service. You up for pizza?”

If there was one thing Cat missed about living a Metra ride away from Chicago, it
was the pizza. Actually, it was Lake Michigan, Second City and Wrigley Field, but
pizza made the top five. “Ooh, come on in.”

As he stepped inside, Junior did a double take of the room. Her heart skipped a beat,
fearing evidence of her fantasy was lying on the floor. She followed his gaze.

Nope. No loose buttons or flower petals.

“Paige isn’t here?”

Cat shook her head. “She went out.”

“With Chance?”

Cat studied his face, narrowing her eyes as she searched for any telltale sign of
jealousy. She wondered if he was doing the same to her. “Does that bother you?”

“The guy’s a dirt bag.” He threw himself down on the bed, placing the pizza in the
middle. “I don’t like seeing my friend spend her evenings with someone like that.”

Cat smiled. “Mm-hm.” She flipped the cardboard lid open and reached for a slice. “I
might be worried, except that she’s too high-profile. He can’t just ‘disappear’ her.”

Junior pulled a thin green binder out from underneath the box. “So here’s what I’m
thinking. We can use one of my player’s files here. It’s got up-to-date physicals,
stat sheets, background. We can doctor it up with my information to make me look legit.”