Hard and Fast

Amanda tossed her napkin on the tiny square table and sighed. “You were right,” she admitted. “That was great Mexican food. I thought for sure I’d given up such fare when I left Texas.”

“Told you,” Reggie said, pushing his empty plate aside. “Los Angeles is the other Texas.”

Amanda laughed. “Not sure what that means but okay.”

“L.A. is a melting pot. There is so much diversity here. It keeps things interesting.”

Reggie himself seemed to be a melting pot of characteristics. A heavyset black man with dreadlocks and stern features, his forearm sported a tattoo of Mickey Mouse. She was coming to know his choice of tattoo matched his unexpected sense of humor.

“Interesting is moving in a matter of days,” Amanda commented. “I still can’t believe this time two weeks ago I didn’t even know I was moving. I’ve started working before most of my wardrobe even crossed the state line.” She glanced at her watch. “Wow. It’s late. I have to write up something about tonight’s game for tomorrow’s paper.”

“That’s just a quick write-up, at least. It’s a good way to get your feet wet. The real pressure, I imagine, is your first feature.”

“Oh, yeah.” Butterflies fluttered in her stomach thinking about submitting that feature. “It’s not due until Monday night, so I have three days to fret about what to write.”

“I have a feeling you’ll do just fine,” he assured her. “But I better get you home to write tomorrow’s piece.”

“You mean my hotel?” she asked, but she didn’t give him time to respond, her mind on the work ahead of her. “Speaking of my story, did you get any shots of that home run Tony hit?”

“The one he blasted halfway to Texas?” Disbelief laced his tone. “What kind of wingman would I be if I missed that kind of shot?”

“Wingman, huh?” She kind of liked the sound of that. Back in Dallas, she’d been lucky to have her own coffee mug, let alone a wingman.

“That’s right, honey cakes.” He gave her a nod. “The right arm to your left. The holder of thy hand in troubled times.”

“Honey cakes?”

“What?” He lifted his eyebrow. “You don’t like your new nickname?”

“I guess you don’t like Amanda?”

“Amanda is a fine name.”

When he said nothing else, she took the bait. “But?”

He shrugged. “It’s what everyone else calls you. I don’t like being like everyone else.”

“You’re joking right?” she asked. “Using my name would make you different. The players called me every name imaginable but Amanda. Honey. Baby. Sweetie.” She rolled her eyes. “Men.” Then quickly added, “Present company excluded, of course.”

They paid the bill, then left the restaurant.

“What do you know about Jack?” Amanda asked, as they settled into the van.

“Jack Ass?” Reggie asked. “I mean Krass.” He started the ignition. “I guess I should have warned you about him.”

“Ya think? Seems a wingman’s duty if I ever heard of one.”

“Yeah, well, I hate to waste good air talking about that sorry bastard.”

“I take it you don’t like him any more than I do,” she commented. “So what’s the story?”

“In a nutshell,” he said, maneuvering the van onto the highway, “he’s an asshole.”

“And a chauvinist bastard. He treated me like I didn’t know sports because I’m a woman.”

“Jack lashes out when he feels threatened.”

“He didn’t act threatened.”

“Oh, he’s threatened. Kevin finally got smart about who he hired to replace star Jack. You have an advantage over the two guys before you, and Jack knows it.”

“And what exactly would that advantage be? Because I have to tell you, I didn’t feel any advantages back there in that locker room.”

Reggie cast her a sideways look. “A woman has an edge when it comes to men. You can get guys to admit to and talk about stuff they won’t with other guys. What you do with that edge is what counts. And right now, Jack knows you are getting attention he wants as his own.”

Amanda digested that information in silence. She’d never considered being female as one of the reasons she was good at her job. But then, it wasn’t until after her makeover that she’d started to see her feminine assets.

Still, her gender couldn’t completely explain Jack’s reaction to her. “Jack seems pretty tight with the Rays. Don’t get me wrong, they gave him a hard time. But it was in a you’re-one-of-the-guys kind of way. When we were in the other team’s locker room, not so much. But with the Rays, he was the one who seemed to have the edge.”

“He’s been around a long time.” They pulled up to a stoplight and Reggie gave her his full attention. “When he first started with the paper, he seemed real down-to-earth. A good guy. He was eager to earn the players’ trust—always printing their side of the story while still being objective. And the team takes care of their own. Jack ended up with all kinds of exclusives.” His lips thinned. “And that’s when the real Jack showed his colors. He changed in a big way. One minute, a nice guy. The next, cocky and demanding. The bigger his readership, the bigger his head.”