Catching Her Heart (For the Love of the Game) Page 4

  Chapter Five

  Addie watched Sawyer walk onto the stage with the stealth of a lion hunting its prey. A shiver racked her body. He was seriously easy on the eyes. She was doing her best to keep things…professional. Could she even say that when the man tied up her tongue, made her fumble over her feet, and, technically, she’d kidnapped him?

  His moods gave her whiplash, and that was a warning signal brighter than a beacon. But still, she was intrigued.

  “And a surprise bachelor this evening, our very own Nashville Slammers’ all-star catcher, Sawyer McBain.”

  Mr. Dawson went on to give some career highlights that he must have had memorized, but Addie couldn’t take her eyes off Sawyer. More than that, she felt like he was holding her gaze. Which was impossible, because he had the spotlight in his face and likely couldn’t see her. Still. The tug of attraction she felt, even across the room, was like the moon pulling the tide. Strange, since she wasn’t entirely sure she liked him or vice versa.

  The bidding started, and Addie gave it a few minutes before she popped her paddle in the air. A thrill of excitement shot straight to her belly, and she told herself it was the adrenaline of bidding, not the way Sawyer nodded in her direction.

  “Bidding on your own guest, Addison?”

  Addie turned to see Karen Capshaw, another board member—closer to Addie in age—staring at her, brows furrowed. Karen looked stunning in her deep navy sequined dress.

  Her cheeks warmed. “My hand just sort of shot up there without warning,” Addie said, trying not to lose focus on the action, a smile tugging at her lips.

  “From what I read, he’s more than willing to spend time with an available woman for free. Unavailable women, too.”

  Addie’s stomach clenched hard. She turned her body to face Karen. Did people really believe everything they read? After seeing how the media had turned her best friend’s words and actions around repeatedly, Addie knew that there was always more to the story. But maybe Sawyer’s mood swings hinged on the fact that people judged so harshly without having real evidence. She’d seen, firsthand, what that could do to a person. Isla had fought back and she’d had Liam and Addie for support, but Sawyer didn’t seem like he leaned on a lot of people.

  “You don’t actually believe tabloids and gossip, do you, Karen?” Why she felt the need to protect him, she didn’t know. Because you can’t stand bullies.

  Karen smiled, looked toward the stage, and actually lifted her paddle. “It’s all based on some kernel of truth.”

  “You’re bidding?” Addie’s jaw dropped.

  Karen winked. “Honey, if half of what they say is true about him, he’d be well worth the money.”

  Addie’s stomach soured, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. She glanced around and saw several women—all ages—laughing and urging one another to bid. If this was the sort of thing celebrities dealt with, she could see why Sawyer kept his walls up.

  Karen got into the bidding, but Addie had lost her desire to participate even as a fun way to drive up the bids. She didn’t want to watch. Addie backed up, away from the crowd, trying to figure out what to do. She’d accused him of being cynical, but he clearly had reason. He hated this type of event though, again, clearly had a reason. And she’d trapped him into it. Shame swamped her when she realized the lengths to which she’d gone to get what she wanted tonight. This wasn’t who she was, regardless of the outcome.

  “You okay, Ms. Carlisle?”

  Addie whirled and nearly stumbled right into Dustin. He was taller than her so she tipped her head up to meet his gaze.

  “I, uh, yes.” Think, Addie.

  “We have three thousand four hundred. Do we have three thousand five hundred?” Mr. Dawson’s voice cut through the air, and Addie looked back to see Sawyer scowling.

  Jeez. Even a scowl looked good on him.

  “I just wanted to say thank you again for the opportunity,” Dustin said beside her.

  “Hmm? Oh. You’re welcome.” Sweat started to trickle at her hairline. Sawyer was going to hate her.

  “Going once,” Mr. Dawson said, his grin looking far too Cheshire-ish.

  “Well, okay. I’ll see you later,” Dustin said.

  Addie started and looked at the young man. “Wait. Take this.” She thrust the paddle at him, glancing around quickly to make sure no one saw.

  Dustin accepted the paddle, his dark blond brows pushed together. “Sorry?”

  “Going twice.”

  Her heart went haywire. She couldn’t do it; she’d look like a fool trying to buy her way into Sawyer’s life. Or the organization. Which is basically what you’re trying to do! She widened her eyes at him, lowered her voice to a whisper. “Bid. Now. I’ll pay. Outbid anyone for any amount.”

  She stepped away from him, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She breathed a sigh of relief when Dustin, face still scrunched, lifted the paddle.

  “We have three thousand five hundred, folks. Come on, everyone. This is for a great cause. How about three thousand six hundred?”

  Wringing her hands together, grateful Dustin knew better than to outbid himself, she tried to blend into the crowd. Hopefully, she hadn’t just stomped all over her own chances to be part of something bigger. She could just imagine how some of the other board members would look at her if they found out she’d purchased her own celebrity guest. Not to mention how it would look if news of tonight hit the entertainment news. Addison Carlisle purchases one of her own at auction. There were too many pieces of this she hadn’t thought all the way through. That wasn’t like her.

  The bidding continued and Dustin almost won. At the last second, an older woman, wearing more jewels than Addison had ever seen in one place, threw her paddle up with a bid one thousand dollars over the last amount. It happened so fast and then Mr. Dawson slammed the gavel down. It was done.

  None of this was going how she planned. It’ll be okay. This will be fine. It’s for charity. He won’t hate you. That woman doesn’t look handsy at all. Addie cringed when she saw the woman rub her hands together and her friends, all decked out in silks and very shiny bling, laughed loudly.

  “We need to talk,” Sawyer’s deep, masculine voice said in her ear, jolting Addie out of her thoughts.

  Dustin wandered near them, hesitating a few feet away as the next bachelor went up for bid.

  “I’m sorry. I tried to get Dustin to bid. I tried to bid. I don’t know if that’s even okay. But she…doesn’t look handsy,” Addie whispered.

  “No good deed ever goes unpunished,” Sawyer said, his tone clipped.

  “Uh, here’s your paddle, Ms. Carlisle,” Dustin said. He looked at Sawyer. “Sorry, sir. That woman’s bid came out of nowhere.”

  “Not your fault, kid,” Sawyer said, crossing his arms over his chest, his lips pressing into a flat line.

  Addie looked between the two men and felt guilt curling inside her chest, making it tight. The air was thick with perfume and cologne and the scents of overpriced hors d’oeuvres.

  “Dustin, you did great. Thank you for trying. Please, make sure you come see me at the stadium.”

  He gave her a small wave and walked away, heading toward bi-fold swinging doors that had servers filing in and out.

  “I’m sorry. But listen, we can make a signal if she does anything untoward,” Addie said, turning to focus on Sawyer.

  Did his lips just twitch? “Yeah? Like what?”

  Addie glanced around then back at him. “Uh, you could do that fist pump like Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club. Do you remember that?” Why that was the first thing that popped into her head, she had no idea. But now it was all about cleaning up her own mess and getting through the next four hours.

  “I barely remember the movie. What are you, a rom-com buff?”

  She felt her cheeks warm. “Everyone needs a hobby. And nothing makes a person happier than a feel-good movie.”

  His lips quirked again but then they turned down slightly. “You’re seriou
s.” He stared at her like she was a little off-kilter. Which you’re giving him a lot of evidence for.

  “It’s for a good cause.”

  Sawyer leaned in, his warm breath making her own hitch. “I cannot decide what to think of you, Addison. This might be one of the strangest nights of my life and that’s saying something. You better get me out of that trivia show.”

  She nodded. What choice did she have? She’d been so wrapped up in her own goals, she’d taken advantage of someone who didn’t deserve it. And very likely, her little scheme would have the opposite effect she’d intended.

  Tonight, she’d just wanted to show she could be an active, contributing member of this society’s chapter. Instead, she’d crossed lines, made a fool of herself, tangled a young man up in her ideas, and given Sawyer one more reason to have little faith in others. Maybe this was why some people just handed over a check when they wanted to help out. It was a lot easier and there was no chance of owing favors—ones she could only hope she’d be able to pull off—to a broody, scowling-faced jock whose moods switched like the swing of a pendulum. One who had no reason to like her or help her.

  Especially now.

  Chapter Six

  Addie was doing her best to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept wandering to the gala. To dancing with Sawyer. To the blush that crept up onto his cheeks when he’d raised over four thousand dollars, just for time with him. It was a different flush than when his eyes had filled with frustration at various points over the evening. When she’d circled his table, trying to be subtle about it, he was laughing and joking with the guests, giving ample attention to the woman who appeared to be keeping her hands to herself.

  She’d reminded herself that everything she did was worth it and that everything had worked out fine. But when she’d dropped him off late that night, his barely audible “See ya” had left her feeling…hollow.

  For as long as she could remember, Addie had focused on this singular goal: raising money and awareness for a disease that changed lives. She tucked most of her paycheck away each month and had since her very first job. When she was twelve, she’d offered everything she’d saved to one of her mom’s many doctors. They’d been talking about experimental treatments and drugs and the cost associated. With such a limited world view and the heart of a young girl who just wanted her mom to feel okay, she’d offered to pay the doctor the whole of four hundred thirty-two dollars.

  Her mom had cried and her dad had hugged her, the doctor smiling at all of them. Then they’d told her it wasn’t her worry. It was a grown-up problem and she could play a game on her mom’s phone while they talked.

  Addie had spent every day since trying to come up with ways to show her parents she could handle the truth and be part of the solution. Tears burned her eyes now as she thought of the bake sales, lemonade stands, and cake walks she’d held. Her parents refused to take a penny and instead encouraged her to donate the money to the MS Society to help others.

  Neither of her parents would be proud of the way she’d used Sawyer, and the realization that she’d done so made her stomach feel like it was full of sour milk. This wasn’t how she wanted to make a difference. She’d convinced herself the end game was worth the risk when she’d picked him up, but she was wrong. Now if she could just figure out a way to apologize to him. Or, as she’d been trying to do all morning, make it up to him. She’d contacted the Slammers publicist but he hadn’t returned her call yet. She didn’t know who to contact at the television studio. What she needed was to find someone to take his place so she could claim a schedule conflict and then have a backup ready for them.

  “Hey,” Isla, her best friend and boss, said from the doorway. She wandered in and took a seat on one of the chairs in front of Addie’s desk. “What’s got you looking so far away?”

  Straightening in her leather chair, she moved too quick and sent a pencil flying.

  Isla laughed, retrieving the lead missile. “And a tad jumpy.”

  Looking every bit the successful, baseball-team-owning, beautiful woman she was, Isla put the pencil in one of the holders on the desk but didn’t take her seat again.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking about the other night.” Right. That was technically true and sounded so much better than “I was daydreaming about one of your players and the way he moves around a dance floor like he’s a professional and now hates me because I’m manipulative”.

  “How did it go?” She leaned back in the seat. Her long auburn hair was tucked partially up and strands trailed over the shoulders of her soft black blouse. She was stunning. More impressive, however, was how kind and hardworking she was. Taking over the team had not been an easy path for her friend, but she’d dug in her heels and stood her ground. There’d been a lot of people against having Isla at the helm, but in the end, Isla had proven she was the best chance of success for the Slammers because she had more than knowledge. She had heart.

  And she never would have done what you did to achieve her end goal.

  I’ll make it up to him.

  Addie pushed back from her desk and looked at her friend. “It was excellent. Lots of money raised and I think I definitely swayed a few of the old guard to my side.”

  “I can’t believe there’s so much politics in running and being part of a charity,” Isla said. “I wonder if there’s something we could do directly through the team and our organization.”

  Two things Addison had learned at a young age: there was always something that could be done and nothing was too small. She stood up and went to the small bar-sized fridge, grabbed them both a water, and passed one to Isla.

  “I think the answer to that is yes. We’d just need to figure it out,” Addie said, her gears already turning.

  Isla laughed, leaning forward to squeeze Addie’s arm across the desk. “You have a lot on your plate right now. Why don’t we table it and come back to it when you can breathe? Speaking of which, are you going back to Colorado this weekend to visit your parents?”

  She loved Nashville. It was a city she’d dreamed about visiting, but she couldn’t deny missing Colorado or her parents. “No. Of course not. Not with playoffs starting. Plus, my dad is surprising Mom with a weekend away. She’s been on a new medication for a while now and feels really good. I am heading out of here shortly, though. I’ve got a meeting set up with the youth center to talk about our athletes working more directly with kids in crisis. It’ll be one of the options for the players who want to give back to the community. A lot of them don’t see that as part of wellness and balance, but I hope to change that.”

  It was only because Addie was looking directly at her friend that she saw the slight tightening of the other woman’s lips. Shoulders a little stiffer, Isla held her gaze.

  “What?” Addie’s nerves rattled. The wellness project mattered to her—she’d been trying to implement it for the past several months when she noticed the way some players ignored the signs their bodies gave them that they were pushing too hard or fast. Since taking her position, she’d had an inside look at the way the athletes and the management tunneled their focus on all things baseball. It was necessary to an extent, but it wasn’t healthy. Addie truly believed in the connection between balance and happiness. She was positive that with a well-balanced life, in all areas, players would be more successful.

  “Liam was chatting with a couple of the players and got some feedback I think we need to take into consideration,” Isla said. The caution in her tone only heightened Addie’s concern.

  “Okay. That’s fine. Any new program or idea has kinks. What kind of feedback?”

  Isla stood and sighed. She paced away from the desk and then turned to face Addie again. “Some of the players are worried that we’re just using this as an attempt to spy on them.” She held up a hand when Addie started to protest. “Spy might be the wrong word. But instead of realizing that we’re trying to find ways to make their lives easier, to help them improve their own awareness of self-care and its imp
act on their game, some of the guys think we’re just trying to expose things they don’t want to share.”

  Addie scrunched her face up, trying to understand what Isla was saying. “They think we’re tricking them? By offering massages, dieticians, assistants, or whatever else they need to make their personal lives smoother so that it transfers to the professional arena? That’s ridiculous.”

  Isla shrugged. “That’s guys. Liam thinks it’s the interview process. You go in—a lot of them don’t know you—and they wonder why you’re asking all of these questions about their health, their lifestyle, their needs and wants.”

  A weight settled on Addie’s lungs. She pressed her hand to her chest. Why was it so hard to do a little good? That’s all she wanted. With the MS Foundation, her job, with the players. Why were people fighting her every step of the way?

  “What do you think we should do?” Please don’t say pull back. Please.

  Isla smiled, her eyes sparkling, and crossed her arms. “It thrilled me when you followed me here from Colorado. Mostly because I needed a friend. But also because you are one of the smartest, most giving, compassionate, and intuitive people I’ve ever met. You are a huge part of my own success and I not only believe in your ideas, but I believe in you. So, you tell me, Addie, what do you want to do?”

  Resisting the urge to throw her arms around her friend—because in this environment, Isla was her boss—Addie beamed. “Can I get back to you? I need to think about that and obviously, now isn’t the time. They need to focus on playing.”

  Isla beamed, her smile transforming her face. “We made the playoffs, Addie.”

  Addie laughed. “Yes we did. Thanks to you and your determination not to have it any other way.”

  Isla feigned nonchalance. “The team might have had a little to do with it.”

  Addie laughed again. “Maybe a little. But they followed where you led.”

  “We’re doing good things here, aren’t we?”