Clutch Hit by Faith O'Shea (most popular ebook readers txt) 📗

“Every one of those players will be out on the field with you. That there is our starting roster.”

She got her coat out of the closet and made for the door.

He was right behind her.

“I know. Last night after you went to bed, I Googled them on my cell, like I did you. They all sound like they play because they love the game, not just for the money.”

“That’s the idea. Those are the kind of players we want.”

“I am already comfortable with Reid and will reach out to him to work with the Jimmy Fund. Mac said he expected us to do community service and I figured I could start there.”

“You probably already know his daughter had…has leukemia. She’s in remission, but still has her regular check-ups. He’s one of the hospital’s biggest supporters. He’ll grab you for any and all events whether you volunteer or not.”

“I will gladly participate. I have never met Melina but Rique told me all about her. He calls her a true warrior.”

Her heart squeezed. He was one of the most genuine persons she’d ever met. She doubted he could ever betray anyone, his integrity too much a part of who he was. But those thoughts were more dangerous than the ones she had about tangling the sheets with him. The latter would be for the hell of it, the former would mean a whole attitude change… and trust, no matter who she dated, would always be an issue.

Um, no dating involved here. You jumped right into the volcano. And the hot lava of emotion was melting all but need and longing.

When they reached the parking garage, she asked, “Do you want to drive?”

“It would probably be a good idea. I need to learn how to get out of here.”

She heard him reach into his pocket for the keys and then the click of the locks. She inserted herself into the passenger seat, belted up, and held her breath but she needn’t have. He was competent behind the wheel, even with her less-than-stellar directions, her body still sizzling, her brain in melt-down. She was prodding him to the left lane, then reminding him about the one-way, the traffic moving at a snail’s pace. She’d thought about taking the T, giving him a lesson in in-city transportation, but with her leaving right after for Pittsfield, it was impractical.

“There’s a garage up ahead. Get into the right lane.”

He did so in one smooth motion, not irritating anyone to the flipping-the-bird stage with his actions. She was duly impressed.

When they entered the offices of Woodley and Fisher, it seemed it was his turn to be impressed. He glanced around the well-appointed waiting room while she checked in with the receptionist and when she went over to take a seat, he was gazing out at the city from the huge window, his hands in his pockets and a gratified smile on his face.

“This is quite a view.”

They could see the whole city. Even Harborside was visible in the distance. There were many places she’d visited, more exciting, more populous, but this was home. The unique neighborhoods, Newbury Street, Harborside, and Fenway were beyond compare. It didn’t sprawl but compressed itself into a vital, living organism that offered its residents a metropolitan feel but a small-town vibe.

She took the time to breathe, to anticipate the questions she knew would lead her further down the path lined with falsehoods. She hoped she was ready when Jelani’s assistant called them in.

“It’s good to see you, Allie. Jelani has some of the preliminary paperwork started, so this shouldn’t take long. Is this your husband?”

Allie nervously looked around the room to see who might have overheard, but the few waiting clients were busy amongst themselves, chatting. She noticed Mateo had a grin on his face. He might be happy about the situation, but she was still wary about word getting out.

In almost a whisper, Allie said, “Yes. This is Mateo Alvarez.”

They walked down the short hall to the first office on the right. Jelani was standing by the door to greet them, giving her a hug before offering a handshake to the man standing too close beside her.

“It’s been too long. We’ll have to find some time for a drink. Alec won’t mind baby duty and we’re due for a catch-up.”

They occasionally grabbed dinner when discussing aspects of her immigration program and they’d become friends in the process.

“Sounds good. I have the tickets all lined up for you. I grabbed the best ones we had, and I have to warn you, it’s going to be a hell of a year.”

The law firm had season tickets to the Red Sox, and Allie had pitched a reason to have access to both teams, which Jelani had taken her up on.

“Alec was over the moon about it. He’s a fan, been following Jackson since he got here.”

“Haven’t we all.”

“And this is your new third baseman.”

Jelani said something to him in Spanish that she barely understood. She was sure she wasn’t keeping secrets but merely making him feel more comfortable. When the lawyer moved behind her desk, she got right down to business.

“Sit. Please. I have the information you gave me, and I’ve begun to put the packet together. I’ll need some more personal information from you, Mateo, to finish it off. And if you could give me your mother’s phone number, I’ll contact her, explain the process, and tell her what to expect.”

When Mateo rattled off the number, Allie was suddenly aware of how much mother and son were talking. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He was worried about her and it would have meant checking in daily to make sure she was okay.

Mateo was leaning forward, a look of concern on his face.

“That would be appreciated. She’s a bit apprehensive about the whole thing but eager to get here.”

“Things have loosened up but it’s still a difficult proposition. Every once in a while, the Cuban government allows a