Betting On The Rookie. Stephanie Doyle

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СКАЧАТЬ minor league contract. I have to go with the team who wants me, but I agree it’s a little crazy that I’m back here with the Rebels.”

      “I’m not talking about that! I’m talking about the fact you had a chance to sign with Samantha, and you didn’t. Are you a fool? Don’t you want to make money as a professional athlete, or are you one of those purists who only plays for the love of the game?”

      Evan was no purist, but what the hell was he supposed to tell Scout? That he didn’t want to sign with her sister because she lacked character? That she was the kind of woman who would look the other way when confronted with domestic abuse, something that was intolerable to him?

      “She didn’t know,” Scout said, reading his mind. “That’s what you’re thinking, and that’s why you walked away. But you know me, and you know I would never lie about something like this. Samantha would never have supported a creep like that if she knew he’d been abusive to women. You have to trust me on this.”

      “Scout, you know I want to believe you, but that video...”

      “She didn’t know about the video. Saw it the first time when the rest of America did. Richard paid a large sum of money to make it disappear, and no one, not even the police or the NFL, had seen it. Certainly not Sam. Look, you know what kind of people I am. Surely you’ve heard stories about Duff Baker and the type of man he was. Do you honestly think Sam could be so different from us?”

      No. He hadn’t thought it possible. Until the evidence was there in front of his face. Only now Scout was telling him a different story. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. Maybe he at least owed it to Sam to hear her side of the story.

      “Okay, I’ll talk to her.”

      “Good. Oh, and do me a favor. Do not mention that we had this conversation. Got it?”

      Not really, but he wasn’t going to argue with Scout. He owed her too much. “Got it.”

      * * *

      EVAN KNOCKED ON the door of the Baker home and thought about the last time he’d been here. He’d come knowing he’d cost Scout her job, but instead it had been Sam who’d opened the door. Sam, who’d been sporting a considerable black eye at the time. He remembered the way his gut had tightened at the thought of someone hitting her. Hurting her. He’d had an almost crazy urge to find who did it and hurt him back.

      Then she’d told him it had happened as a result of squabbling sisters, and suddenly the idea of cool and pretty Samantha getting into a brawl with her sister made her a little more human.

      Unexpectedly Evan wondered if she would even bother to open the door to him. If she was innocent, then he’d been kind of a jerk. He was about to turn and leave when he heard the steady drum of sneakers hitting the sidewalk coming to a stop, and he knew he didn’t have to worry about her shutting him out.

      Sam Baker looked like a hot, sweaty mess. A damp T-shirt over a sports bra, skintight running shorts and legs that were tan and toned, covered in a sheen of sweat. Her hair was pulled back into a short stubby ponytail.

      Nothing icy about her now.

      Like every time he laid eyes on her, regardless of how she looked, he felt it deep in his gut.

      Evan shifted his feet and wondered again if coming here was a bad idea for an entirely different reason. He wasn’t sure it was a good thing to be thinking about licking the sweat off his potential agent’s neck.

      One thing he knew, he’d caught her off guard. He could see that in the way she had brought herself to a sudden stop with her hands crossed over her chest even as she tried to regulate her breathing. Why he liked that, he wasn’t sure. Maybe catching her off guard was the only way to get the upper hand with Samantha Baker.

      “Hi,” he said. The lamest opening ever, but he had to start somewhere.

      “What are you doing here?”

      “I wanted to talk.”

      “I wanted to talk the other day, and you told me to get lost.”

      That pretty much summed it up. “I think maybe I was wrong. I was judging you based on something I saw on television, and I realized that’s not fair. I would like an opportunity to hear your side and decide for myself what kind of person you are.”

      Arms still crossed over her chest, she looked away and shrugged. “Why bother? Surely there are any number of agents who are aware of the trade that just happened and have been in contact with you.”

      “I don’t like them,” Even said as honestly as he could. “They’re all trying to sell me something. That’s not what I want.”

      “What do you want?”

      “I want someone who I trust will fight for me. Someone who will have my back. Someone who will listen to what I want, rather than tell me what they think I should do. I’m looking for a partner.”

      She looked at him and nodded. “Okay. Then, let’s talk.”

      * * *

      SAM WALKED UP the front steps of her porch silently cursing that he was seeing her like this. Beyond looking terrible, she was fairly certain she smelled, too. This was not how one conducted business. This was not how one gained the upper hand in a negotiation. She considered telling him she would make an appointment for another day, but if she let him go, who was to say he might not find another agent he did like?

      There were good people out there. Sam knew a lot of them. They weren’t all scumbags and car salesmen.

      “Can you wait down here while I take a quick shower?” she asked even as she was opening the door to let him inside. There was just no way she could talk to him feeling this rattled. She needed tools, her clothes, her sophisticated cool style.

      “Is that a real thing for a woman?”

      “Oh, he’s funny and a sexist,” she quipped. “I’ll only be two hours. That’s not very long, is it?”

      He smiled and took a seat on the couch in the living room. “I’ll wait.”

      He said it like he meant she was worth it, and that did funny things to her insides. She jogged up the steps, happy to be out of his sight and hopefully sense of smell, and headed directly for the bathroom, stripping her clothes off along the way.

      As the hot water washed over her, she had this crazy thought that she was upstairs naked, while he was downstairs waiting for her. Knowing she was naked and wet. Knowing that all he had to do was climb the steps and open the bathroom door...

      “Stop thinking about him like that,” she mumbled as she turned off the water after a very quick five minutes.

      Ten minutes later, she was dressed in pants and a pale pink blouse, her damp hair pulled back into a sleek knot, and her professional demeanor now fully in place.

      When she came down the steps he stood.

      “Can I get you something to drink? A beer or something?” Actually, Sam had no idea what type of alcohol was in the house. She only drank white wine, but the fridge down in the basement always used to be stacked with a variety of beers.

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