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Steroids? That was the kind of story that ruffled feathers. The kind of story one treaded lightly around. The wrong information could ruin careers. “Do I get to know your source?”
“No.” His tone was clipped. “I’ve been around a long time. I’ve earned my contacts. You haven’t yet. All you need to concern yourself with is getting this story before Jack. Understand?”
Her response was instant. “Oh, yes. I want that, too.” Amanda made sure her voice held the conviction she felt.
Kevin’s eyebrow inched upward, but he didn’t comment. “Good. I expect an update soon.” Without another word, he left.
Hand pressed to her chest, Amanda felt both relieved and happy. “Oh, my God, I just knew I was getting fired.”
“You scored big,” Reggie told her. “Now you have nothing to worry about except—”
“Getting this story before Jack Ass.”
“Right,” he said with a nod. “But don’t fixate on Jack. Do this your way, not his. And that wasn’t what I was going to say, anyway. I was going to say you need to find a place to live.”
“Oh,” Amanda said, settling into her chair. “I know. Kevin said to get here, so that’s what I did. I need time to find something I can afford. So far, everything the real estate agent has showed me is crazy expensive or so far away it’s nuts.”
“I might have a solution,” Reggie offered. “Karen Tuggle, our weather woman, has a duplex and she rents out the other side. I’m not sure when it’s available, but it’s in a good area of town and it’s affordable.”
“Sounds good. I’ll contact her today. I’m hoping Kevin lets me travel with the team for the Texas series in six weeks. That way I can drive my own car back.”
“I’d bet on it. The Rangers and the Rays have a competitive history with some tension between the coaches. Jack Ass will be going for sure. All the more reason for Kevin to want us there.”
Amanda’s cell phone rang before she could respond.
“I’ll check in with you in a bit,” Reggie said, before departing.
Amanda managed to retrieve her phone from her purse by the third ring. Caller ID told her it was her father. “Hey, Dad.”
“How is my baby girl?”
“I’m fine.” Amanda smiled into the phone. “My first story hit the paper today.”
“I saw that,” he said, his voice holding a fatherly authoritative tone as if he wasn’t completely pleased his daughter had written it. “And quite the story it was. I bet you got some notice.”
“I did,” Amanda agreed. “And the good news is, I’m still employed.”
“Well, of course you are. But let me get this straight. You wrote the article thinking it might cost you your job?”
“No.” She blinked. “Well, maybe. It is a bit daring,” Amanda admitted.
“You certainly made everyone sit up and take notice, and you did it right out of the gate.” He paused. “I noticed you picked Brad Rogers as your first feature, too.”
“I knew you’d approve.” Her father had a thing for pitchers. Not teams, but pitchers. Brad was a favorite. Amanda loved watching baseball with her highly opinionated father. Just listening to him complain about the bad calls, bad pitching, bad coaching and a long list of other bad things, kept her entertained.
“You didn’t happen to get—”
She rolled her eyes. “No, Daddy, I did not get you an autograph. Give me time to be accepted.”
A heavy sigh filled the phone. “All right, but don’t wait too long. You know how I like my autographs.”
“Yes,” she said, thinking of his den filled with his collection. “I do know. I’ll get you one. I promise.”
“Before he quits pitching.”
She frowned. “You think he’s going somewhere?”
“He’s playing hurt. You know from your own history what that means.”
She knew very well. “I noticed, too. He kept doing that little flexing movement between pitches. Discreet, but obvious if you’re a doctor.”
“Or the daughter of one,” her father said.
“I couldn’t listen to you and Kelli talk shop and not pick up something. The odd thing is that no one with the Rays seems to have noticed that Brad’s hurt. I noticed, but not them. How crazy is that?”
“You’ve been in the locker rooms. Broken bones and blood get attention. The rest is easy to miss. Especially when it’s being hidden.” A female voice sounded in the background. “Hold on,” he said. “I have lots more to ask, but your mother feels it’s her time to talk. Love you, honey.”
“Love you, too, Daddy.”
“Don’t forget my autograph.”
She laughed. “I’ll get it.”
“Oh,” he said, as if he’d had a last-minute thought. “Any word on you coming home for the Texas series?”
“Not yet,” Amanda said, feeling the pressure of performance. The team would head to Nashville before Texas, and she didn’t know about that trip. “I imagine that decision will come once they decide if I’m a keeper or not.”
