“Can I help you with that?” A man’s deep voice interrupted Joey’s thoughts as she tried to pull her suitcase towards the elevators of The Sunshine Hotel in Randal, Florida, the home of the Boston Red Sox spring training camp.

Joey looked up in surprise from where she was hunched over her suitcase, and pushed back some brown hair that had fell over her face. If she weren’t having such a hard time moving the damn bag (she didn’t think she’d packed that much) she’d make some comment about how sexist it was for him to ask, as if she couldn’t do it on her own. So what if she really couldn’t do it on her own, there was a principle to these things. “Yes, actually,” she said straightening up and rubbing her lower back lightly. “I didn’t think I’d pack that much.”

“No problem,” He bent over to lift the bag and grunted when he couldn’t lift it easily. “What’d you back in here, bricks?” he teased. Trying again he braced himself for the weight this time.

“To remind me of home,” she said straight-faced. “Besides I thought you baseball types were supposed to be strong,” Joey commented recognizing his face from the plane ride.

He chuckled, “I must be the weakling of the group.” They reached the elevator, “What floor?”

Joey pulled the keycard she had received earlier out of her denim jacket. “Um, fourth.”

He nodded, pressing the button and the doors closed behind them. “I thought the ball club bought out the hotel?”

She shrugged adjusting her glasses. “I wouldn’t know.”

“You one of the wives?” He wondered, narrowing his eyes trying to figure out to whom she might be married.

“No,” she said almost insulted and extended her hand. “I’m Joey Potter. A reporter from The Globe assigned to follow the team around.”

“Oh,” he took her hand and shook it with a smile. “AJ Moller.”

She smiled herself finally affording to get a good look at him. She made a quick assessment. Blonde hair with a slight wave to it, clear blue eyes, broad shoulders, nice waist, not too bad looking. Cute, even and when he smiled even cuter. With a hooded gray hooded sweatshirt pulled over a dark polo shirt, he still had the boyish good looks to pass for some frat boy. “Nice to meet you, AJ Moller.”

“Same to you Joey Potter. How long are you going to be on assignment?” He couldn’t help but smile at the woman. She was pretty, in a wholesome, honest way. Not like so many women, he had come across who overdid their hair and make up.

She sighed heavy heartedly. “Looks like I’m stuck with you guys until at least opening day.”

“Boston’s loss and our gain.”

She laughed lightly. “Flatterer.”

He shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed, “I try.”

Joey raised her eyes to the numbers above the door as the elevator came to a stop. “My floor.”

He smiled, “Mine too. Looks like we’ll be neighbors.” He lifted the suitcase and carried it out, “Which room?”

“I believe it’s 414.” She furrowed her brow and glanced back down at the key in her hand. “Right, 414.”

He nodded, “I’m right there,” he pointed to the door across from her. “Guess I’ll be seeing a lot of you.”

She bit her lip and smiled faintly. “Looks like it.”

“Are you going to the team meeting?” He wondered, “It’s later tonight.”

“Team meeting?” she repeated clueless.

“Yeah, where the whole club gets together, players, coaches, trainers...”

“Oh...” Her eyes dropped to the floor a second before she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, more than likely. Got to go for the whole experience while I’m here.”

He nodded, “It’s at five, the rest of the team should be here by then.” He dropped the suitcase to the floor, “Can you handle this from here?”

“I should be able to mange.”

He smiled sincerely, “Okay. Have a good afternoon, Mrs. Potter.”

There was an amused lilt to her voice. “You too, Mr. Moller.”

He nodded once, and unlocked his door before going inside.

Joey released an excited giggle she’d been holding back and brought a hand over her mouth in shock, her face red and she hurriedly glanced around the wall. Satisfied that no one had seen her or heard her she opened the door to her room and disappeared through it, before opening it a few moments later and dragging her bag inside.

~*~

She ran a hand over her brown skirt and adjusted her black v-neck sweater. She sighed and shut the mirror sliding it back in her purse. Jen had ruined her. She’d had carefully applied the make up she had bought on impulse a week ago and she’d even went as far as to put on her contacts all in some pathetic attempt to get AJ Moller’s attention. She was ready to turn back around and change the moment she spotted the banquet hall but she stopped when she saw Pacey standing outside the door looking uncomfortable. Human curiosity won over and she approached him. “Something wrong?”

“Wrong?” He shook his head, “No, nothing wrong.” His eyes flitted around the lobby, watching as his new teammates, coaches and trainers made their way into the banquet hall.

She tilted her head in mock sympathy. “Can’t find the door?” She pointed to it. “It’s right over there.”

He gave her an exasperated look. “Go on inside, Jo. They won’t bite.”

“Looks like I should be telling you that.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a self-deprecating smile. “Don’t read more into this than there is, Potter. I’d hate to force you to print a retraction.”

“I promise. This is off the record.” She raised an eyebrow. “So why aren’t you inside yet?”

“If it’s off the record, what does it matter?”

She turned her head and peeked inside the door. “Because I have time to kill before AJ comes down.”

“AJ Moller? You know him?”

“We’ve met.”

He arched an eyebrow, “Is that who the Very Berry is for?”

“Maybe.”

He didn’t say anything more and took a few steps over to the payphones in the lobby and then a few more back.

“You know I’m just going to regret asking this, but what’s the problem? You’re going to be late for your own meeting and you’re just outside the door.”

He rolled his eyes. God, the woman was stubborn. “If you must know...I’m just a teensy bit nervous.”

“Why would you be nervous?”

He gave her a dubious look. “First of all, I’m walking into one of the best baseball teams in history with a contract for fourteen million dollars. That’s a hell of a lot to live up to. Secondly, I’m going to see these guys day in and day out for the next nine months,” he shook his head, “And how would you feel if some eighteen year old just out of high school suddenly had your job, plus twice the pay?”

She looked at him in disbelief. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m worried about!”

“Pacey, first of all you earned that fourteen million dollar contract, they wouldn’t be paying you otherwise, so cut the woe is me crap. Because believe me, no one’s going to feel bad for you about that. Pathetic, excuse. Secondly, that room could be filled with a bunch of vengeful men and baseball hating lesbians and you’d still manage to charm the socks off all of them. So get over yourself.”

He looked at her wide-eyed. “Well. That’s quite a talent you got there.”

She exhaled sharply. “What?”

“How you just complimented me twice, but still managed to convey your hatred of me.”

She rolled her eyes. “So are you going in or not?”

“Yeah, I’m going in.” He nodded, walking to the door and holding it open for her.

She straightened her clothes out one last time and headed for the door. “Great, now because of you I probably missed AJ,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry,” he leaned close to murmur in her ear, “You have a whole month with him.”

Joey’s knees almost gave out from under her before she shot Pacey a glare and headed for a seat in the back as far away from him as possible, mumbling something about hormones.

A moment later, AJ appeared in the door, shooting Al Martin, the Boston Manager an apologetic smile. He quickly found a seat, to his pleasure beside the reporter, Joey. “Hi,” he smiled at her.

She couldn’t help but smile herself. “Hey.”

“Now that we’re all here,” Al started speaking, shooting a pointed look at the young pitcher. “We’ll start by introducing you all to this year’s Boston Red Sox baseball club.” He spoke gruffly. He was an aging black man, tall and mean looking. His career high was with the 2001 Seattle Mariners, and he was injured in the opening game of the 2002 season. Five years later, he had a World Series ring and a baseball title to defend.

Joey cast a furtive look at AJ from the corner of her eye. “Running late, huh?” she whispered quietly.

“Yeah, a little.” He admitted, keeping his voice low. “I wanted to take a shower first and it lasted a little longer than I thought.”

The corner of her mouth turned up faintly. “At least I know I’m sitting next to one of the cleanest people in the room.”

He smiled warmly at her. “So, what paper are you with?”

“The Boston Globe.”

“Ahh, home town woman. I hope you’re going to make us look good.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“Wait, you’re not the woman writing all that stuff about Pacey are you?”

“Um, yeah. That would be me,” she said sheepishly.

He winced, “You don’t hold back do you?”

She brushed it off. “The truth hurts.”

He smiled warily, “I guess so.”

“But Pacey has a big ego. He needed to be pulled down a few notches. Believe me, I’ve been stuck with the guy for a week already. I know.”

“Ah, one of those egomaniacs?” He scanned the room, straining his neck to try to see Pacey.

She nodded. “Yeah, have to hate those. It’s really messing up my chances of writing a decent article on the team if Pacey’s hogging all of the attention.” She bit the inside of her cheek unable to stop herself. “I mean, the new guy coming out of nowhere making more money than you, the center of what’s supposed to be great publicity for the team. It’s not fair, right? What does he know about being part of the Boston Red Sox? There are guys here that deserve twice the recognition he does. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, “I stand it because I have to.” He frowned, “No one asked me before they hired the goon. I would have told them, pitching is what we need. Pitching wins games, not the hitting. If you’ve got great pitching, and are able to hold your opponent from scoring any runs, then you don’t need these hot shot hitters that bring absolutely nothing to the game.”

Joey nodded interestedly. “That’s such a good point.” She bit her lip as she tried to appear thoughtful. “Hey, you wouldn’t mind if I asked you a few questions later, do you?”

AJ smiled widely, “No, no, I’d love that.”

She grinned brightly. “That’d be great.”

“Do you have time after this?” He wondered.

“Yeah, I don’t really have any plans.”

“Great,” he smiled, “Maybe you’d like to catch a late dinner with me?”

She tried not to appear too overly enthusiastic. “That sounds fine.”

“I’ll pick you up in your room, say 8?”

“Eight is fine,” she said with a nod of her head, trying to fend off her guilt. She hadn’t really meant to use Pacey’s insecurities against him but they were the perfect way to get closer to AJ and it worked perfectly. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

“Okay, great.” AJ smiled and tried to focus on Al Martin. After all, it might be important to know the names of his trainers, coaches and teammates.

Joey sighed tuning the rest of the boring meeting out. She had what she wanted.