Page 5 of Catching Her Heart (Austin Stars Baseball RomCom #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

Three weeks into what I'm trying not to call "dating Ted," I'm sitting in the press box for the first time since my stadium navigation disaster. I've finally figured out where I'm supposed to be, though I have to admit I miss the chaos of sitting with the Brennan family cheering section.

My phone buzzes during the seventh inning stretch. Tim Webb, my editor.

"Blackwood, I need that trade deadline piece by tomorrow morning. And it better have something the other guys don't."

I glance down at the field where Ted is crouched behind home plate, calling signals to Jay. After the game, we have another coffee date planned. Our fourth this week. Not that I'm counting.

"I'm working on it," I tell Tim. "I have good sources."

"You better. That sneaky Simmons is sniffing around the same story. If you can't deliver something exclusive, I'll have to reconsider your position here."

The line goes dead. I stare at my phone, my stomach sinking. Tim has been increasingly demanding lately, and I know my job is on thin ice. Austin was supposed to be my fresh start, my chance to prove myself. But if I can't deliver better stories than the competition...

The game ends with another Stars victory. As I make my way down to wait for Ted outside the family section—our usual meeting spot—I try to push Tim's words out of my mind. Ted emerges twenty minutes later, that easy smile spreading across his face when he spots me.

"Hey," he says. "Ready for our post-game debrief?"

"Always." I fall into step beside him as we head toward the parking lot. "Great game tonight. That throw to second in the fourth was perfect."

"You're getting good at this baseball analysis thing." Ted bumps my shoulder with his. "Soon you'll be calling the games better than I do."

We drive separately to Hill Country Coffee, where we’re lucky to find our favorite table aavailable. Ted orders his hot chocolate, I get my coffee, and we settle into the comfortable routine we've developed.

"So," Ted says, then glances around the nearly empty coffee shop. He leans forward, lowering his voice. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm too excited to keep it to myself."

My heart does a little flip at his conspiratorial tone. "What?"

"Johnson's getting traded tomorrow. Coach told us after the game." Ted's eyes are bright with excitement. "To the Mariners. It's not public yet, obviously, but..."

"That's huge," I say, though I'm not entirely sure why he looks so thrilled about losing a teammate.

"It means I move up in the batting order," Ted explains. "Third spot instead of seventh. More at-bats, better chance to prove myself, especially with contract negotiations coming up next year."

The excitement in his voice is infectious, and I find myself grinning. "Ted, that's amazing! You've been wanting more playing time."

"I know I shouldn't be happy about Johnson leaving—he's a good guy. But this could change everything for me." He reaches across the table to take my hand. "I wanted you to be the first to know."

The warmth of his fingers intertwined with mine sends that familiar flutter through my chest. But underneath it, there's something else. A small voice in the back of my mind noting that this is exactly the kind of insider information Tim has been pushing me for.

I push the thought away. Ted is sharing this with me because he trusts me, because he's excited and wants to celebrate with someone who cares about him. Not because I'm a reporter.

"I'm so proud of you," I say, squeezing his hand. "You deserve this opportunity."

We talk for another hour about his career goals, his hopes for the rest of the season.

When Ted walks me to my car, he kisses me softly under the streetlight, and I try to memorize the moment—the way his hands cup my face, the pressure of his lips, the way he makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks against my forehead.

"Wouldn't miss it."

I'm still smiling when I get home, right up until my phone rings.

"Blackwood." Tim's voice is sharp. "I need that story first thing tomorrow. The trade deadline is heating up, and we need to be ahead of the curve."

"Tim, it's almost midnight?—"

"I don't care what time it is. You're dating the team's catcher. You must know something about potential moves. Johnson's contract is up for renewal—any rumors about what the team's planning?"

My blood runs cold. How does he know about Ted? And Johnson... the player Ted just told me about.

"I don't mix my personal life with my professional obligations," I say carefully.

"That's noble, Blackwood, but this is the real world. You have access other reporters would kill for. If you can't deliver stories that matter, why are you even here?"

The question hits me like a slap. It's the same doubt I've been carrying since Chicago, the fear that I'm not good enough, not cut out for this career I've dreamed of since college.

"I'll have something for you in the morning," I say.

"It better be good. Simmons's been asking around about player movements. If he scoops us that’s not gonna be good."

The threat hangs in the air after Tim hangs up. I sit in my dark apartment, staring at my phone, Ted's words echoing in my mind: Johnson's getting traded tomorrow.

It would be so easy. One quick call to Tim. An exclusive story that would cement my position here, prove I can deliver the kind of insider access he wants.

But it would be the ultimate betrayal of Ted's trust.

I don't sleep much that night. By morning, I've convinced myself that I'll find another angle, another story that will satisfy Tim without betraying Ted. But when I walk into the newsroom, Tim corners me immediately.

"Where's my story, Blackwood?"

"I'm still working on it. I have a lead on the pitching rotation changes that might?—"

"Pitching rotations? Simmons already filed that story an hour ago." Tim's eyes narrow. "You're holding out on me. You know something about the Johnson situation, don't you?"

"Tim, I can't?—"

"Can't what? Do your job? Because that's what this is, Blackwood. Your job. And if you can't handle it..."

My phone rings, cutting him off. It's an unknown number, but I answer it anyway, desperate for the interruption.

"Ms. Blackwood? This is David Miller from the Chicago Reporter. Your name came up for a position we have open for a senior journalist. Senior on the sports desk.”

I step away from Tim, my heart pounding. Chicago. A senior position. Everything I've been working toward.

"I’m very interested," I hear myself saying. "When can we talk further?"

"Soon. By Friday would be ideal. We're looking for someone who can deliver exclusive content, someone with real connections."

When I hang up, Tim is watching me with keen interest.

"Job offer?"

I look at him and shake my head. The last thing I’m going to do is admit to my boss I’m going to interview for another job.

"Well that was a lousy piece of lying," he says, his smile sharp.

"I guess you better decide what's more important—your career or your boyfriend.

Because if you want my recommendation for whatever that was, you'll prove you can deliver the stories that matter.

Johnson's getting traded today, isn't he? Dude’s probably finding out right this very minute. "

I stare at Tim, realizing he's been playing me all along. He knows about the trade, probably heard rumors from other sources. He's been testing me, waiting to see if I'll cross the line.

"I need some air," I say, grabbing my purse and heading for the exit.

I'm standing outside the building, hands shaking as I dial Ted's number, when I realize what this must look like. I'm calling Ted right after being pressured about the Johnson trade. Even though I'm calling to warn him, to tell him that somehow the rumors are already circulating.

The call goes to voicemail. I try again. Same thing.

That's when I see Ted's truck pulling into the parking lot across the street. He's early for lunch, which we'd planned at a deli nearby. I wave, relieved to see him, but when he gets out of his truck, his expression is thunderous.

"Ted?" I start toward him, but he holds up a hand.

"Save it, Piper." His voice is cold, nothing like the warm tone I've gotten used to. "I know what you did."

"What I did? Ted, I didn't?—"

"I trusted you," he says, and the hurt in his voice cuts deeper than anger would have. "I told you something in confidence, and you sold me out."

"I didn't tell anyone anything!" The words come out louder than intended. "Ted, you have to believe me?—"

"Simmons over at the Chronicle just called me for comment on the Johnson trade. Said he heard from a reliable source that it was happening today." Ted's expression is stormy. "Funny thing is, the only person I told was you."

My heart sinks. "Ted, I promise you, I didn't?—"

"Don't." He shakes his head. "Don't lie to me on top of everything else. I saw you on the phone outside your building just now. Right after your editor called about the trade story, I bet."

"You were watching me?" The pieces click together, and my chest tightens. "Ted, that's not what happened. I was calling to warn you that my editor somehow already knew?—"

"Your editor knew because you told him!" Ted's voice breaks slightly. "I'm such a fool. I actually thought... I thought what we had was real."

"It is real!" I step toward him, but he backs away. "Ted, please, just listen to me?—"

"I can't do this, Piper. I can't be with someone I can't trust. And I won't keep feeding you information for your career."

"I never asked you for information!"

"Maybe not directly. But that's what this was, wasn't it? Get close to the naive catcher, let him think it's something special, and wait for him to spill team secrets."

The accusation cuts deep. "You think I've been using you?"

"I don't know what to think anymore." Ted's shoulders slump. "All I know is that I trusted you with something important, and now it's all over the sports world. Whether you meant for it to happen or not... this is exactly why players don't date reporters."

He turns to walk away, and panic floods my chest.

"Ted, wait?—"

"We're done, Piper." He doesn't look back. "I hope the story was worth it."