Page 18 of The Devil In Denim
Alex frowned. “You look a little pale. How about a drink?” He picked up a menu but kept his eyes on her, not on it.
“I’ve got beer. Soda. Water. Probably wine somewhere.” She probably had whatever he’d like. But it seemed easier to limit the options.
“Beer’s fine.”
She pulled a bottle from the fridge, hesitated, then took a San Pellegrino for herself. After the previous night, more booze wasn’t any more appealing than the thought of food. She should be hungry. She couldn’t even remember what she’d eaten last. There’d been a pretzel on the way to her dad’s. Hadn’t there? The day was blurring in her memory.
Alex took the beer and twisted it open. “Thanks.”
She poured her mineral water into a glass, sipped gingerly, then looked at him. “Might as well get this over with.” She took a seat at the big battered pine refectory table.
Alex nodded and pulled out a chair for himself. “Okay.” He swigged from the beer. “Short version, the Saints are broke.”
“What?” She’d been half expecting it … having run through the scenarios as they’d driven here; it either had to be money problems or her dad had lost his mind but she’d hoped it wasn’t true. “We had a great year.” The Saints weren’t a rich team, never had been, but her dad hadn’t given any hint of them having money trouble. Of course, the team being in trouble didn’t mean his personal money was in jeopardy. He’d always taught her to have a nest egg and to keep business separate from family. Her throat tightened and she made herself take another drink.
“Pretty good,” Alex agreed. “But the global economy didn’t. The Saints’ assets have taken a hit. Actually, they took a hit a few years back. Your dad and his team have been doing what they could but it’s a losing battle. The Saints need money.”
“Which is where you and your friends come in,” she said bitterly.
“Yep.”
“You could have been silent partners. Why take over? You don’t know baseball.”
He shrugged. “Because I want to.”
Because he wanted to. So he would. He could’ve invested in the team. Could’ve chosen not to disrupt things so dramatically. Not taken her dad’s life—and hers—away from them. Yet, he had. Because he wanted to. And really, that told her all she needed to know about him.
“And you always get what you want?”
“Not always. But in this case, yes.”
“And it doesn’t matter who gets hurt?”
“I didn’t hold a gun to your dad’s head, Maggie. He could have said no.”
“If he wanted to let the Saints go under. He would never do that.”
“He could probably have found another buyer. Not such a good offer perhaps but there are other people out there who might have invested.”
“But he still picked you.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.” It blurted from her with a sound that was too close to a sob for her liking. She didn’t understand. Maybe she’d never understand.
“Your dad did what he thought was right. You’d have to ask him why.”
“But he loves the Saints. I don’t know how he could just walk away.”
“Maybe he’s ready for a change. He’s been doing this for a long time.”
“Baseball’s his life.”
Baseball was her life too. She’d counted the days until she would be back home at the Saints. She felt right when she was at Deacon Field or somewhere on the road with the team. Anywhere else, she never felt like she quite fit in. In college she’d hung out with the ballplayers a bit, but that could be awkward sometimes when they were more interested in whether they could get to her dad or his scouts through her than in Maggie herself. But she’d learned to weed out the bad apples fast enough. But even then, surrounded by people who loved the game, it wasn’t the same as being with the Saints.
“People change, Maggie.”
“They don’t give up the things they love.”
