Clutch Hit, Faith O'Shea [read along books TXT] 📗

had become her signature scent, and even blind-folded he’d know her anywhere. He wanted to bury his nose in her neck…

With no smile in her voice, she asked, “Are you ready?”

Disappointment rippled through him. He nodded. “I am.”

“Then let’s go.”

He picked up his bag and followed her out to her car, the wind whipping through him. It was cold, colder than he’d ever felt before. He pulled his coat lapels together, snow crunching under his booted feet. He’d done as Rique had suggested and shopped for more appropriate clothes. There was a store in the hotel where he’d purchased what he thought he’d need and had been able to charge it to his room. He couldn’t believe it was so easy to get what you wanted here. All he’d had to do was pick up the phone, and it was delivered or sign his name and room number to any bill, and it was covered. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to that.

There was a small red coupe parked close to the door. It had what looked like an owl as a logo.

“What car is this?”

“A Mazda X-15 Miata.”

“I am beginning to think people here like tiny cars. Rique has one as well. There is no comfort.”

She scoffed. “Dos Santos has a Maserati. Not in my price range.”

When she popped the trunk, he placed his bag inside and closed it.

After settling himself in the passage seat, he glanced over. He didn’t like that she had sunglasses on. They shielded her eyes. They were the most cat-like he’d ever seen, a mixture of greens, rust, and gold striations. They suited her.

“Where will I live?”

“Boston. On the harbor. I thought being close to the field would help you get to know the area. Even though it’s right down the street from where you’ll play, you’ll need a car.”

“I will consider this. Everyone else seems to have one.”

“What kind do you think you’d want?”

In Cuba most cars were old American-made ones that had come to the island before hostilities breached the economic divide. That was close to fifty years ago.

“I have no idea what is here to buy. There is not much of a selection where I come from. One thing I know for sure. It will be big so my legs don’t cramp.”

“You don’t want too big. You’ll never fit in a parking spot in the city.”

“First, I will have to get a license, yes?”

Her voice rasped in surprise. “You don’t have a license?”

He shrugged. “There was never any need to get one.”

Camagüey’s quirky cobblestone streets were narrow, designed as a labyrinth, which were hard to navigate and confused outsiders. There were dead ends and blind alleyways that were better maneuvered with bikes than automobiles. He’d walked just about everywhere when he wasn’t traveling with his team. He’d never thought of owning a car, even if he’d been able to afford one.

Her voice was tight when she said, “I guess I’ll have to add that to the list of things to do.”

He turned his head and asked, hopefully, “You will teach me to drive here?”

“I’ll try. If I can’t manage it on my own, I’ll enroll you in driving lessons. I’m not sure letting someone else control the wheel would work for me. Especially here. There’s congestion and the streets aren’t easy to maneuver.”

“I’m not sure Boston streets are any different than the ones in my hometown. Why don’t people use bicycles?”

She laughed. “You don’t know much about Americans yet, do you? Cars are like limbs. Citizens never leave home without them.”

It was the first time she’d let her guard down in front of him. He liked the way it tickled his ear.

She added, “There’s one waiting at the condo for you. I had it brought over on spec. If you don’t like it, we’ll send it back.”

“On spec?”

“Yeah, they lend it out to see if it suits. You can go on-line, pick something else if it doesn’t.”

“On-line?”

“Yeah, on your computer.”

“I have never owned a computer.”

Her head jerked in his direction. “You’re kidding right?”

“Why would I kid? There is lack in Cuba. Everything from food to clothes to technology.”

The internet wasn’t as universal as it seemed to be here. One could only access it from certain hotels on the island.

“Is that why you’re here?”

“I am here to play baseball. For money.”

“So, you can buy anything you want?”

She sounded put off, as if he was guilty of something.

“No. So I can buy what I need. Share with my mother so she can live a more decent life. Until I can bring her here to join me.”

No one would understand the scarcity there. No one cared enough to find out. At least she hadn’t. She’d never asked about anything other than baseball.

“And what do you need, Mateo?”

“A roof over my head, good food to eat, clothes of my choosing. Perhaps a computer and a car.”

She lifted her sunglasses, rested them on her head and looked over at him.

“You know I’ve been tasked with making sure you spend it wisely.”

“Is that a wife’s duty?”

“I’m not…”

He was staring at her. She’d almost denied it, but she knew in strictly factual terms she was.

CHAPTER FOUR

Her lips were still pinched when she said, “Dan’s asked me to help you get your footing here. A lot of the men who defected from Cuba went a little crazy with all the money at their disposal. It hurt their baseball careers.”

He remembered the comment from the man on TV last night. Millions of dollars in bonuses and salary wasted.

Something else jarred. “You are doing it at Dan’s request?”

She finally met his eyes. They were closed to her soul. He could read nothing in them other than distaste.

“Look, Mateo. I told you before we did the thing that it was business. I hope you don’t feel any emotional ties to me.”

Without blinking, he replied, “How could I? You’ve made it a point to stay away.”

With her eyes back on the road, she told him, “My life is full, and it’s