Hot Number

CHAPTER NINE

SINCE RETURNING from the island, Damian's game was running smoothly. On the field, he was the Damian Fuller his coaches and fans expected. His first game off the disabled list, he'd played all nine innings, singled, doubled, walked twice and homered once. In the field, his work had been his best in years. Most importantly, as a team the Renegades had won this past series at home and they were still solidly in first place. Carter was pissed at being put back on the bench, but that was the kid's problem. Damian was at the top of his game again and that's all that mattered to him.

His coaches, his manager and most of his teammates were happy with his performance. The only one not taking his calls was his agent, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why Yank Morgan was upset. But the old man had sent his niece off to the island knowing full well that, to Damian, nothing came before his career. Yank couldn't possibly think Micki would change his mind-although Damian had to admit she was the only woman who'd ever tempted him to say to hell with his single-minded philosophy.

He found himself thinking of her at the worst moments. When he was in the field during a game, he'd remember her determined face as she pitched to him, how well she caught a ball and how her hair fluttered in the island breeze. He'd always catch his wayward thoughts before he screwed up on the field. Each time he'd push her out of his mind and promise himself no more. Then he'd imagine how much worse it'd be if he had to deal with her on a daily basis, and he'd assure himself that his decision to keep his distance was the right one.

Damian didn't think his agent would want him to screw up the end of his career over a woman. Not even the older man's beloved niece. And since he planned to stay away, Damian figured the old man would thank him for sparing Micki even more pain. Hell, Yank Morgan would come around in the end because, like Damian, he understood the game came first.

As a professional athlete Damian couldn't afford to let his emotions get the better of him. But as he walked into Carole's New York hotel where she'd asked him to meet her, his gut churned and even his chest hairs prickled with unease. Something about her coming to New York and calling him out of me blue just didn't feel right.

She greeted him warmly but her half smile did nothing to put his mind at rest, either,

"Thanks for coming, Damian." She led him into the oversize hotel room, lavishly decorated and probably a lot more expensive than Carole could afford.

Still he wasn't about to pry. "You're looking well," he told her. Not good, well. He chose his words carefully.

Though she looked beautiful as always, he had to be careful to keep his distance, both physically and emotionally. He didn't want her getting any wrong ideas about their relationship. Or lack of one. For him, things between them had ended the night they'd gone to Lacie's joint.

"So why make the trip north?" he asked.

"Sit." She gestured to the fabric-covered chair.

The flowers jumped out at him, big and ugly and as frightening to him as her somber tone of voice.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Did I ever tell you that my mother never married my father?" She let out a high-pitched laugh. "In fact she never knew who my daddy was."

They were over. Why in God's name were they talking about personal things like her past and scary notions like unmarried, pregnant women? "What's the point?"

She bent down and reached for his hand, "I don't know how to tell you this-“

"Just say it" His heart pounded a mile a minute and icy tentacles of fear crept up his spine.

"I know we used protection but…I'm pregnant." As if on cue, large teardrops fell from her already watery eyes. "And before you ask, yes it's yours."

"I wasn't going to ask," he lied.

She gave him a forced smile. "You're a good and decent man," she said softly and for a split second, guilt for distrusting her crept into his gut.

Then he reminded himself that this was a woman who'd slept with more ballplayers than just him. He'd never asked what she did when he was out of town, which had been most of the time, and she'd never offered details. He should have questioned, he realized now when it was too damned late. She was placing the responsibility squarely in his lap.

Damian was soaking in sweat, worse than when he played in Florida's sweltering heat, but somehow he maintained his composure and didn't let her see how badly his nerves had kicked in.

He ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Look Carole, you must realize this is a shock."

She nodded. "Of course I do. I've had some time to take in the news and you haven't."

"So you know I can't make any decisions right now." Hell, at the moment he couldn't even think clearly.

Only the irony of the situation swirled in his head.

He'd always been so careful. He'd always looked out for himself and the women he was with. Wasn't that the point of protection in the first place?

"Dammit!" He slammed his fisted hand against the cocktail table, rattling the drinking glasses.

Carole wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. To her credit, she didn't try anything sexual. She merely touched him, emphasizing that they were in this together.

He patted her back uselessly. He didn't know how to help her, let alone how to help himself. "I need to go."

She rose to her feet "I understand."

He drew himself upright. "I'll be in touch," he managed to promise.

"I know you will. You're a good man, Damian."

Her calm behavior was baffling him and he narrowed his gaze. The Carole he knew was all about how she looked and what she could get out of life. She epitomized the idea of me.

So why didn't the idea of having an unwanted baby have her ranting and raving? And why did she keep extolling his virtues? The answer was obvious. Because she wanted something from him. Whether it was marriage or money or something else, he wasn't going to sit here and try to figure out what right now. He needed to be alone to decide what he wanted.

Damian headed for the door and only began breathing again when he was solo in the hallway. Out of the blue, his entire life was in upheaval and nothing made sense.

One thing he did know with unqualified certainty- he didn't want to spend the rest of his life saddled with Carole as his wife.

MICKI NEEDED A SOCIAL LIFE. She needed something to think about other than her time on an island off the Florida coast with Damian. Not even waiting for Lola to talk to Spencer Atkins about a merger was enough to distract Micki's thoughts. Resigned to getting no agency work done while she was in this kind of mood, she turned to personal business instead.

First she e-mailed Sophie to see if she wanted to have dinner tonight, then she picked up the phone and scheduled a few appointments she had on her to-do list. Just when she couldn't think of anything else to occupy her mind, her office intercom rang.

She pushed the reply button. "Yes?"

"You have an unscheduled visitor," her secretary announced.

She shrugged. Whoever it was, it was better than sitting alone. "Send them in."

Micki stood at the same time the door opened and Damian walked in. Her heart leaped inside her chest and an amazing feeling of happiness surrounded her,lifting the cloud that had settled on her shoulders since they'd parted at the airport.

She'd been deprived and now she wasn't, and she shamelessly took in his appearance. He wore a pair of faded Levi's that did little to disguise the muscles beneath the jeans, along with a solid white T-shirt that accented his tan. He still had the scruffy beard she loved but his eyes were dim and he looked troubled. More troubled than the man she'd last seen worrying about his career, and she wondered what was bothering him.

She couldn't suppress the fleeting hope that maybe he'd missed her and that was why he'd come by. Heaven knew she'd missed him.

She strode around her desk, trying for a casually unaffected tone as she greeted him. "Hi there."

"Hey." He shut the door behind him. As he smiled, his gaze scanned her body for as long as she'd studied his. "You look great," he said at last.

She glanced down at her short pleated skirt and low-cut top. After leaving the island, she'd taken his advice and purchased more clothes that accentuated her feminine side. "Sophie and I went on a shopping spree."

He nodded approvingly. "Works for me," he said, his tone deeper than before.

He stepped closer and captured her in his arms, pulling her close and before she could blink, his lips came down hard on hers. His tongue plunged into her waiting mouth and she opened wide, accepting him because he had come for her. If she could have scripted the scenario, she couldn’t have planned it any better.

She blinked and reality set in. Damian still stood before her.

She shivered and shook her head hard. "So what brings you by?”

He drew a deep breath and lowered himself into the nearest chair. "I have an appointment with your uncle."

"Oh”

"And I also need to talk to you.”

She narrowed her gaze. "Okay "

He ran a hand through his hair. She'd never seen him so flustered before. "I need a friend."

She wanted to be more but knew she had to settle for whatever he offered. "You know I'm that”

He bowed his head. Almost as if he couldn't face her, Micki thought and her throat filled with fear. "What is it?”

A knock sounded on her door and Micki’s secretary entered. 'Today's papers are here," Amy said, interrupting them.

"Thanks." Micki didn't look over her shoulder at the other woman.

"I'll just leave them on your desk." Amy walked in and placed the papers down before taking off again.

"Sorry. Papers are a publicist's lifeblood," Micki explained.

He nodded. "That's sort of why I'm here."

She raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"There's no easy way to say this so… Just take a look." He gestured toward the stack of dailies. "Start with the News. They're the most creative with the headlines"

Micki picked up the top paper, The Daily News, and flipped it to the back page. The headline read Miami Love Machine. Beneath it, the caption elaborated, "Miami legal secretary claims New York Renegades center fielder Damian Fuller is the father of her unborn child. Full story p. 72." The photo, which took up much of the back page, showed the woman Micki recognized as Damian's date from Tampa, leaving the Marriott Marquis on Broadway.

Micki's head swam with so many emotions she couldn't sort through them all. Shock, disbelief, pain and a completely unreasonable sense of betrayal all ricocheted around her mind and buffeted her body.

And to think she'd hoped he'd come to claim her as his own. Because even though he'd never promised her anything, Micki had held on to the hope that somehow she'd meant something to him.

This paper, whether or not it portrayed the truth, was proof of Damian's playboy ways and his inability to care for one woman long-term. Micki had been a fool to think otherwise.

She slowly laid the paper down on the desk. Swallowing her own pain, she turned to face him. He'd said he needed a friend. Somehow she'd be his friend. "What are you going to do?"

He shook his head and shrugged. “That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Okay… Forgive me for asking the obvious but is it yours?"

"I wish to hell I knew." He rose and paced the floor, ending up at the window overlooking the city.

She wondered if he found the same comfort in the sameness of the skyline that she often did, then realized that nothing would soothe her now.

"So you need to ask for a paternity test."

He turned and nodded in agreement.

Micki swallowed hard. "And if the baby is yours?”

When he didn't reply right away, she offered up an alternative that nearly broke her heart. "Marriage?"

"Hell no." He answered immediately. "Child support, yes. Support for Carole, maybe. But marriage?" Damian shook his head, then held it in his hands as if the pain were overwhelming.

"Are you asking my opinion?" she asked in disbelief. Nobody could tell him what to do.

He shook his head. "Back at the airport you said if I ever needed you for anything…to spin a situation or just to vent, I should come to you. So here I am." His smile didn't reach his eyes. 'To tell you the truth, I didn't even think this would hit the papers. I had no idea till I woke up this morning but I guess it needs to be handled, right?"

"Right," she managed to say, stunned. "You want me to help you spin the story?"

He leaned against the plate-glass window, his dark eyes imploring as he merely inclined his head.

Her mouth grew dry at the thought of being his publicist for this very public, very painful ordeal. She definitely didn't think she could work by his side and deal with her very real feelings for him while at the same time he worked through a relationship with another woman that would last a lifetime.

Apparently he had no such trouble working alongside her in that capacity. The truth stung.

"You're the best at what you do." For the first time, a teasing grin curled his lips.

“Under any other circumstances I'd be flattered." She let out a bitter laugh.

"Micki-" He reached for her hand but she pulled back, not wanting to touch him and set off the sparks she knew would follow.

"I need to step outside for a minute." She needed time alone. Without meeting his gaze, she turned and walked out.

Once in the hall, she leaned back and forced air into her lungs. They'd been home from Florida for two weeks and he hadn't as much as picked up the phone. Now when he was in the ultimate kind of trouble, he showed up on her doorstep. Here she was again, Micki Jordan, every guy's pal, she thought in frustration.

But she didn't question what she'd do. Micki could never turn down anyone in need. She knew better than to think she could ignore Damian's plea. If he needed her professional help, she'd provide it

But no way would she give of herself emotionally again.

"YOU'RE AN ASS, Fuller," Damian said, swinging his hand uselessly in the air.

He couldn't believe he'd been so damn stupid. Selfish. Unfeeling. He'd woken up hungover and needing someone. Micki had been the only person who'd come to mind. The only one he'd wanted to share his pain with and the only person he trusted enough to ask for help. Unfortunately in all his thinking about himself, not once had he taken her feelings into account.

The news had hurt her, that much was obvious. If there was one person on this earth he'd want to protect from pain, it was Micki. Too late now, he thought, disgusted with himself.

He knew she'd walked out so she could be alone and retreat behind every emotional wall she could find. He didn't blame her. If he had a brick wall he could hide behind, he'd be there in an instant. Problem was, he didn't have that luxury. Nothing would make Carole and her pregnancy go away. He couldn't change the fact that he was back-page headlines again, this time with a scandal that would do far more damage than good.

He couldn't deny he needed Micki's unique ability to spin a story his way nor could he ignore that it might be the only way for him to keep her in his life. At least until he sorted through this personal mess and came out the other side. Right now Micki was his lifeline and he needed her. Apparently knowing he was selfish and doing something about it were two different things.

Without warning the door swung open wide and Micki walked back inside, her sister Sophie and her uncle Yank right behind her.

He stiffened, ignoring the embarrassment he felt at being caught with his pants down by people he admired and cared for. "Why do I have the feeling I'd rather face a firing squad than the three of you?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know," Yank said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Maybe because you can't keep your pecker in your pants and now we've got ourselves a situation?" The older man picked up the paper and flung it Damian's way.

Damian winced. It was bad enough he'd still have to explain this mess to his family but now he was faced with Micki's. "I really don't see how that's relevant to my career."

"He really doesn't see how this is relevant to his career," Yank mimicked him. "I'll tell you how. I can book you on comedy shows and channels for idiots if this kid turns out to be yours. Want to know what was waiting in the wings for you?" Yank asked.

Probably not, Damian thought. "What?" he asked instead.

"GMA special sports correspondent, that's what. You see, you might not have wanted to talk about your career beyond playing ball but I had your back. Always."

"And I appreciate that. I admit this isn't the responsible image I want to project and I'm not proud of any of this. But plenty of famous people have survived worse scandal. I don't see what you're so worked up about," he said, his voice trailing off as his gaze shifted from Yank to Micki.

Damian knew exactly what had the old man so riled up and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to make things better. The man was already pissed at how Damian had handled his relationship with Micki. Now this. Who could blame Yank if his anger was more personal than professional?

Then there was Micki who hadn't met Damian's gaze since bringing her partners into the room.

"Look," Micki said, stepping in front of her uncle.

“I spend my days spinning scandal for a living, but I thought we needed reinforcements on this one. You had an appointment with Uncle Yank anyway and I figured Sophie would be of help since I'm not exactly an unbiased third party."

In other words, she was hurt, and afraid her emotions would get in the way of doing her job. "You aren't about to pass me off to your sister, are you?" he asked Micki, ignoring the other two people in the room.

Silence followed and his gut churned at the thought of losing the only person he trusted.

"It would serve you right if I did, but no I'll help you handle this," she finally said.

Well that was something, at least. "Okay then, what's the plan?"

Sophie picked up a pen and began making notes on a pad in her hand. "In cases like these, having the right person standing by a man in tunes of scandal can save a reputation. In your case it's going to be Micki who holds your hand through this mess." Her frown told him how much Sophie hated the idea of her sister being subjected to being in the role of his savior.

But obviously they'd discussed it briefly before coming in here because neither Yank nor Micki argued the point.

Still Damian was confused. "I'm not sure I understand what you're suggesting."

“I’ll explain. First you're going to issue a statement with your publicist by your side. That would be me," Micki said in case he missed the obvious. "You are going to admit you made a mistake and state that once the facts are verified, you plan to do the right thing. You're going to be a stand-up guy, just like your fans and the kids who look up to you expect"

He nodded. So far so good. Relief filled him as he realized that he'd been right in coming to Micki for help. Not just professionally but personally as well. He couldn't wrap his mind around how to handle any of this and he could already see that she'd help him get his head on straight. He'd owe her big time for this, Damian thought.

"Next up is handling the actual…umm…situation," Micki said, her cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

"What she's referring to is whether you've dealt with the issues surrounding this pregnancy," Sophie said, rescuing her sister. "Did you talk to the woman about a paternity test?"

He shook his head. "Not yet"

"Did you think about meeting with a lawyer?" Yank asked.

Again, Damian said, "No. I just found out. I can't even imagine how the damn story got leaked so quickly."

"Probably the doctors or nurses the woman saw. Somebody saw a chance to make a buck," Yank muttered.

"You need to set up those appointments," Micki instructed him, back to her professional mode. "What's your schedule look like?"

Damian groaned. "A series of home games and then a week on the road."

She nodded. "Okay, lawyer and doctor appointments first."

"You need to find out how far along this woman is and then talk to someone about when it's safe for paternity tests to be done."

"My sisters have an ob-gyn. I can set up an appointment with him. He's a family friend and I'm sure he'll fit me in around game times."

His sisters. Shit. The thought of facing them and their questions made him squirm.

Sophie nodded. "Good. At least we have a plan of action. Right now Micki will go with you and help deal with the press. In case you didn't realize, they're already outside the building and clamoring for information."

"Yeah, they were camped outside my, building this morning." He winced at the memory. “There's no media quite like New York's."

"You got that right. Screw up and they're all over you," Yank said. "I got one question."

"Shoot." Damian wasn't about to hold anything back now.

"If the kid's yours, do you plan on marrying this broad?

"Hell no. I don't believe in screwing up Carole's life or the kid's life just because protection didn't work," he snapped.

Yank cleared his throat. "You're saying you used protection?"

Micki looked away.

Damian ran a hand over his warm face. "Yeah, Yank. I did."

"Well that's something." The older man met his gaze with a sympathetic look of his own.

For a brief second, Damian didn't feel like the pariah in the room or the man who'd let this entire family down.

What a freaking mess he'd made. He and Micki hadn't had a commitment; they'd had what should have been a brief fling. Yet he couldn't shake the self-disgust flowing through him at the thought of disappointing her family and hurting her.

"I say we deal with the press immediately," Micki said, interrupting his thoughts. "The more time you let go by, the more speculation they'll shovel and the more dirt they'll dig up on both you and Carole. You ready?" she asked Damian in her most professional, distant voice.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

She nodded. "Then let's do it. I'll brief you on what to say on the way downstairs." Micki strode out of the room, pad in hand, all but ignoring him.

At this point the only thing he had going for him was the fact that she and her family agreed she'd stick by his side. He intended to hold her to her promise.

RICKY CARTER SAT in his small apartment and watched Eyewitness News at Noon. Thanks to his discreet contacts, Damian Fuller’s paternity scandal had headlined the back of every newspaper in the city. Now Carter watched his captain and the man whose position he coveted step in front of microphones and speak from the heart.

No prepared statement for Fuller, Carter thought, taking a swig from a bottle of beer. Instead the man had the fans eating from the palm of his hand as he extolled the virtues of always using protection, explaining how mistakes happen anyway and promising to do the right thing. Then he asked for time to figure things out and requested the media focus on what was important at this time of year-the Renegades making it to the off season.

He shook his head in disgust. Everything the man touched turned to gold. Nothing Carter did made a difference or brought Fuller down, and he ought to know since he'd tried his best.

Carter had made sure to let the reporters who covered the team know at which strip club they could find Fuller. Carter had hoped they'd bash Fuller for partying at Lacie's the night before a charity event. Instead he'd been branded a hero for rescuing his agent's niece. Nice piece of spinning by the Hot Zone, Carter thought, frustrated.

Even now Fuller had the sexy little publicist standing by his side despite his fall from grace. The same woman who'd eyed Carter with disdain looked at Fuller with adoring eyes.

"The story of my life," he muttered.

But it wasn't just Damian's dumb luck eating away at Rick now, it was his own actions that bothered him. When he'd hooked up with Carole, he'd eyed Fuller with envy. Silently sabotaging the Renegades captain had been too easy to resist, and for a while nobody had been hurt in the process.

Until Carole had gotten pregnant.

He and Carole had come together in fun but somewhere along the way, he'd begun to develop feelings for her. Hell, he'd even thought she felt the same way. But then she'd ended up pregnant, insisting the baby was Damian's. To add insult to injury, she'd been refusing to return Carter's phone calls.

Carter had been so pissed about the pregnancy, so angry at Fuller, he'd wanted to get back at his captain. Carter had revealed Carole's pregnancy to the press. But soon after making the call, the anger had subsided and he realized he'd set Carole up for pain and humiliation-something he'd never intended to do. He'd called the press first and realized he'd be hurting Carole later, after it was too late to take back the story.

He picked up the, phone and dialed her hotel room.

He knew she wasn't leaving the city until tomorrow and wanted to make sure she was okay while she was here.

The phone rang and rang on the other end until he was about ready to hang up.

"Hello?" Carole said, out of breath.

"Hey, babe, I’ve been trying to reach you."

"Carter?"

"Who were you expecting? Never mind," he said, before she could answer. He was certain he didn't want to know. "How are you feeling?"

"A little queasy. I've been spending more time than I'd like in the bathroom."

Maybe that's why he hadn't been able to reach her. He glanced toward his fridge. "You should try drinking Coke. It'll help. At least that's what my sister said when she was expecting."

"Thanks for the advice, Rick."

He swallowed hard. "No problem. So how are you handling…the rest of it?" he asked, referring to the media attention and hoping she wouldn't make him spell it out. He felt bad enough already.

She inhaled and he heard the long pause at the other end. "It's horrible. The reporters are all over the lobby. I had to ask security to sneak me down the service elevator tomorrow morning just so I can make my flight I can't believe someone at the doctor's office would leak the news about my pregnancy. I feel so violated."

Carter's gut cramped. "What makes you think it was them?"

She sniffed and he imagined her wiping her eyes as she spoke. "Nobody else knows Damian's the father except you and me and I know you wouldn't hurt me."

She trusted him, Ricky thought, fighting the wave of nausea that overtook him as he faced the reality of what he'd done. In his zeal to take everything Damian Fuller had, he'd hurt this woman in the process. He hadn't meant to. He cared about her too much.

Way too much.

If she knew he'd been sabotaging Fuller, she'd dump his ass even as a friend. And he didn't want that. As much as he and Carole had often joked about Damian's arrogance and downfall, she was now carrying Fuller's kid.

Or was she? he wondered, as Damian's words from the press conference played back in his head.

Rick always wore a condom-it was ingrained in his head by his father-and he'd used one with Carole. She'd said she always made a guy use protection, too, but when she'd told him about the pregnancy, she'd said there was one time she and Fuller hadn't used birth control. He'd believed her.

"Hey, babe?"

"Yes?"

"Did you and Fuller use protection?"

He listened closely, waiting for an answer.

"I already told you about me and Damian. Why are you asking me again?"

He shrugged. "Something Fuller said to the press about using protection and accidents happening anyway."

She let out a too shrill laugh. "What else is he going to say? That he's not the hero the world thinks he is?"

"I understand, babe. And I'm here for you no matter what."

"That's so sweet." She paused. "But we can't see each other anymore. And Damian can't know we've ever been together, you know that right? Because if Damian will, ummm, marry me and give the baby a name, you know I have to do it. Promise me, okay?"

Rick shut his eyes tight. His position on the field, his number at bat and now his woman. What the hell else did Fuller need to hang on to that ought to be his? Carter wondered.

He couldn't live with making Carole such a promise.

"Oh I'm going to be sick again. I've got to go," she said and slammed the phone in his ear.

Apparently he wasn't going to have to promise her he'd keep his silence, after all. Which was a good thing since long after she'd hung up the phone, and long after the Renegades had won their 4:00 p.m. game, Rick tossed and turned in his bed, something eating away at him.

Something Carole hadn't said.

She hadn't answered his question about whether she and Fuller had used protection. After telling him about her pregnancy that first time, after explaining she and Damian had made that mistake just once, she'd evaded reassuring him directly ever since. Which left Rick with lingering doubts about Carole's initial claim.

Never mind the fact that she might have been with more guys than him and Fuller. Rick didn't want to deal with that thought at the moment. But if she and Fuller had used protection, just like she and Rick had used protection, then there was a fifty-fifty chance the baby she was carrying was his.