“So,” Samantha said after a mutual moan-fest over the deliciousness. She was a tall, willowy blonde who was as attractive as some of the players she represented. Today she wore a yellow business suit revealing mile-long legs, making Holly feel like a run-down Pinto standing next to a brand-new BMW. “What do you think about the guys?”

“I’m wondering if they always behave so well on the road, or is it a show for my benefit?”

“They don’t do shows. What you see is what you get.” Sam dug into a brownie with clear relish. “It’s why I love them. My brother, Jeremy, is the publicist for the Bucks. They’re a logistical, diva-run, trouble-filled nightmare. He has his hands full. Not me. They’re all good guys here on the Heat. The best.”

“So far, I’d agree with you. So no problems?”

“Like?”

“I don’t know. Drugs?”

“No. Nothing like that,” Sam said firmly. “There’re no secrets here, Holly.”

Holly liked these guys, and she wanted to believe Sam, but experiences had taught her one thing: no one was as they appeared to be, especially not with the sheer amount of money and fame they dealt with on a daily basis. “What about jealousy?”

“Jealousy?”

“Pace Martin, for instance, one of the highest ranked pitchers in the league and the ace in your starting lineup. How do the other pitchers on the team feel about playing second fiddle to him? Like Ty, a strong up-and-coming player, and yet he’s Pace’s relief pitcher, maybe not getting the playing time he might somewhere else because Pace is so good. Does he—”

“Honey.” Sam smiled like pure melted butter as she reached out and squeezed Holly’s hand. “It’s been a long day and we’re far from home. We’re eating a thousand-calorie dessert together. Now I know you like to dig, but all you’re going to come up with is a bunch of holes and tired arms. So don’t you think we might enjoy ourselves instead of trying to find problems that don’t exist?”

Holly blinked. “Oh. Okay, sure.”

Sam laughed at her. “You’re allowed to take a breather, you know. And do nothing. I won’t tell anyone.”

Holly let out a self-conscious smile, a little startled that Sam had read her so easily. “It’s going to take some practice, this sitting-around thing. I don’t usually have so much downtime.”

“Well, we’ll reform you yet.”

The next day, in the packed Philly stadium, Holly sat in the stands with a sense of anticipation and excitement as Pace jogged out to the pitcher’s mound looking tall, leanly muscled, and focused.

In his element.

“He’s my fantasy pick,” a teenage boy said reverently, sitting just behind her.