In the video, a small throng of baseball fans clapped in the background, and he could see there were a handful of people seated in the stadium around her only too glad to be a part of a celebrity entourage if just for the afternoon.
“But I want all his fans to know that further imitations of me will not be necessary as I am now a season ticket holder and can be here to support Lance in person.” Whoever was working the camera zoomed in on the number of the seat where Jamie was holding court. The camera panned back again, showing the seat’s position just above the first-base line.
What was she doing? She’d be mobbed every time she attended a game now that all of America knew where to look for her. Her tactics were a long way from the public breakup he’d been expecting.
“I’ve got to get out there.” He handed the Blackberry back to the pitcher, realizing that Jamie was no doubt sitting in her assigned seat right this very minute. With the Scrapers game not scheduled for another hour and a half, she must have come early for batting practice.
“There’s more,” the rookie called to him as he headed for the tunnel. “The video still has two minutes to go.”
Lance quickened his pace as he reached the passage from the players’ locker room to the field.
“That’s the problem with you kids today,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Too tied to your technology when you could be experiencing real life.”
He didn’t mind taking time to razz the new guy since his mood had improved ten-fold the moment Jamie said she was there to support him. Hell, she’d essentially announced to the whole world she wanted to be a part of his life. That had to count for something.
Knowing that she wanted to be there for him made his whole season in a way no three-run homer or Gold Glove nod ever could.
Levering open the door into the home team dugout, he stepped out in the sunshine to join the ground crew on the field. Fueled by eagerness to see Jamie, he climbed the rail where the players stood to watch the game and hauled himself up to the roof of the dugout. A small cry went up from a few early-bird fans scattered around the seats.
But his eye went straight to seat 65K, section 22.
Adrenaline pumped through him as his gaze scanned the stadium since he still half-expected her to have meant the video as a stepping stone to the big breakup. But any doubts he harbored fell away as he spotted the big, foam finger she waved that declared the Scrapers were number one.
Grinning ear to ear, he leapt a low concrete wall and sprinted to section 22 faster than he’d ever rounded the bases.
JAMIE HAD PLANNED A SPEECH.
She’d semirehearsed it as a follow-up to her YouTube video in case Lance was nice enough to forgive her for slinking away before dawn after they’d shared the most magical night of her life. That had been a mistake, a knee-jerk reaction to old fears of losing herself in a relationship and not being able to follow her own dreams. But when had Lance ever suggested she be anything but herself? He hadn’t seemed frustrated by her outrageousness. The fake nose hadn’t rattled him. Neither had her leopard-print umbrella.
In fact, he’d seemed fairly amused at her tactics. All of which helped her to realize she’d been a fool to run away from someone who knew all about her and liked her anyway.
But when she got an eyeful of him in his batting jersey, his number embroidered on the sleeve and the team name stitched across the shirt, all her planned words fell out of her head. The man wasn’t just a hot guy. He was a New York icon. And in the hour she’d been in the stadium, she’d been read the riot act four times by different fans who all warned her she’d better not distract “their” shortstop from his phenomenal hitting streak.
She rose from her seat, realizing they had an audience of early fans, but they seemed content to give them a little space. A few sections away, she saw some kids running toward them and guessed that wouldn’t last for long.
“So,” Lance began, apparently wise to her tongue-tied condition. “I hear you’ve become a fan of the team.”
He eyed her foam finger and she tucked it behind her.
“You saw the video?” She removed her sunglasses and drank in the sight of him without the barrier of lenses covered in trademarks.
“It’s been up for twenty minutes and my whole team has seen it. The hit count is already over one million.”
She couldn’t tell by that answer if he was charmed by her innovation or skeptical of a romantic declaration some might call tacky.
“I thought it was important to show you that I can deal with a high profile relationship.” She was grateful to see Lance’s teammates take the field for batting practice since their arrival re-routed the swarm of kids carrying balls to be autographed. “After the way I left this morning, I thought you deserved an apology that wasn’t just me spouting words—”
“What apology?” He frowned.
Fear tightened inside her. “I thought you said you saw the video?”
She’d worded it all just right in there.
“I left after the first minute or so because I wanted to see you.” He reached for her, his expression intent and somehow tender at the same time.
“You missed the apology and you still want to talk to me?” She couldn’t believe she would be so lucky to find a man who would let her make such a colossal mistake and not hold it against her.
Hope for a future together unfurled inside her.
“You apologized to me on YouTube.” He seemed to weigh the implications of that. “Were you, ah—specific about what you were sorry for?”
“That I snuck out before dawn after you were unselfish enough to give me my first multiple orgasm night?” She shook her head. “I wasn’t that explicit, but yes.”
At the chorus of gasps nearby, Jamie knew their conversation could be overheard by a smattering of folks in section 22 who possessed sharp ears. But she was past the point of worrying about a public image that had never been stellar anyhow. What mattered to her most was standing right here in front of her and she couldn’t risk losing him.
Lance shook his head while one of his teammates teed off on a practice pitch.
“Well, I missed that, but you don’t need to apologize for running out.” He looped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “You’d make me happiest if I could see you in private again, after the game.”
Her heart sped up and she felt like she’d just stepped into the sun after too many months of carrying the clouds around with her. Too many months of trying to please mysterious entertainment polls and a fickle public to get a respect that might never come. Being with Lance had helped her see she might as well simply be herself. She had more fun making her video today than she’d had—professionally speaking—in a long time. Being with Lance had opened up a creative door that had been blocked for a while.
“Um—actually, you missed more than just an apology.” She hoped he wouldn’t mind what she’d posted online. But she’d been following her heart and trying to show him she cared. “I did it out of affection for you.”
Possibly the beginnings of love. She could feel the sparkly joy of that emotion underneath all the other happiness, but she wouldn’t mind letting that grow as she got to know him. She planned to spend a lot of time in Scrapers Stadium this summer.
“You did what, precisely?” His eyes narrowed, but he still didn’t betray any hint of frustration at her quirky ways. Lance appeared curious more than anything. Amused.
“I created a montage of Lance Montero’s baseball highlights as a tribute to you, and to prove I’m serious about being a fan.” She thought it would entertain his public and show them that she had no intention of distracting their star from his game.