'Damn right. Keep that in mind for the next couple of hours, and we shouldn't have any problems.'
His look sharpened fractionally. 'While the cameras are on,' he returned in a voice only she could hear.
Turning, she walked to stand behind the camera. Automatically, E.J. stepped back so that she could check the angle herself. Brows drawn together, Brooke stared at Parks through the lens as her assistant handed him another bat. 'Okay, Parks, would you take your stance?' Her frown deepened as he leaned slightly over the plate, feet planted, knees bent, shoulders lined toward the mound. The frown vanished. 'Good,' she decided, moving back so that E.J. could take her place.
'Ten bucks says he pulls one to left center.'
A brief nod was Brooke's acceptance of the bet. 'Parks, when I say action, I want you to take your stance again, then those testing swings. Keep your eye on the mound-don't look at the camera. Just forget we're here.' With the first smile Parks had seen that morning, Brooke turned to the pitching coach. 'Are you all set, Mr. Friedman?'
'All set, sweetheart. I'll try not to blow it by you, Jones.'
Parks gave a snort of laughter. ' 'Just see if you can make it to the plate.' He gestured to his uncovered head. 'And keep it low.'
Brooke took a last glance around, assuring herself everyone was in position. 'Let's do one for time.
Set?' She held up her hand, waiting for absolute silence. 'Roll film, and…action.'
She watched Parks crouch into position, then take two loose swings. The deep-blue silk of his shirt caught the light, accenting the play of muscles beneath. Hands on her hips, Brooke counted off the seconds and waited. Parks shifted his weight as the ball came toward him, tensed his muscles then checked his swing. The ball smashed into the pads behind him. Just barely, Brooke controlled the need to swear. 'Cut.' Battling her annoyance, she walked to him.
'Is there a problem, Parks?'
'Pitch was outside.'
'Like hell,' Friedman called from the mound. 'It caught the corner.'
Immediately the crew split themselves up, arguing in favor of the batter or the pitcher. Ignoring them for the moment, Brooke gave her attention to Parks.
'This isn't the bottom of the ninth, you're just supposed to hit the ball. You'll notice,' she continued, gesturing behind her, 'there aren't any fielders, no fans, no press.'
Parks set the bat, barrel down in the dirt, and leaned on the handle. 'You want me to swing at a bad pitch?'
Brooke met the amused blue eyes levelly. 'The quality of the pitch is immaterial,'' she countered as the argument raged behind them. 'Just hit the ball.' With a shrug, he hefted the bat again. 'You're the boss… at the moment.''
The look held, long and challenging, before Brooke turned back to the crew. 'Take two,' she announced, effectively cutting off the debate.
This time Parks didn't check his swing but drilled the ball up the foul line at third. Without looking at E.J., Brooke held out her hand. 'Time,' she requested as a ten-dollar bill was stuffed in her palm.
Parks noticed a tiny brunette with a stop watch and clip board. 'Twelve and a half seconds, Brooke.'
'Good. All right, let's go for it.'
'This one's going over the fence,' E.J. pronounced in an undertone to Brooke. 'Bet ten?'
'Take three,' she called out with a nod of assent. 'Roll film, and…action!' A satisfied smile touched her lips as she studied Parks. He was either getting into the spirit of things, or his own competitive spirit was driving him. Either way, it was working for her. The look on his face as he crouched over the plate was exactly what she wanted-the steady intensity that bordered on fierceness. A pity she couldn't work in a close-up, she mused, then lost the thought as Parks took a full swing at the pitch.
Power. The word rippled through her as he connected with the ball. She saw the instant the shirt strained over Ms shoulders, was aware of the bunching of muscles in his thighs beneath the soft, expensive material. It wasn't necessary to follow the path of the ball to know where it had gone. She knew the flash of grin on Parks's face had nothing to do with her direction. It was sheer pleasure. Brooke kept the film rolling as his eyes followed the ball out of the park. Still grinning, he turned to her, then gave a deprecatory shrug.
She should have been angry that he had looked at the camera against her directions, but the movement, the expression was perfect. Even as she dug in her pocket for E.J.'s ten dollars, she decided to keep it in. 'Cut.'
Spontaneous applause broke out, along with a few whistles. 'Nice pitch, Friedman,' Parks commented. The coach tossed another ball in the air. 'Just making you look good, Jones. The Valiants' pitchers won't be so friendly.'
Brooke swiped the back of her wrist across her damp brow. 'I'd like a couple more please. What was the time on that?'
'Fourteen seconds.'
'Okay. The light's shifting, check the reading. Mr. Friedman, I'd like to get a couple more.'
'Anything you say, sweetheart.'
'Parks, I need a full swing like last time. No matter where the ball goes, look up and out-don't forget the grin.'
Laying the bat on his shoulder, he drawled, 'No, ma'am.'
Brooke ignored him and turned away. 'Lights?'
The technician finished the adjustments, men nodded. 'Set.'
Although she considered the third take close to perfect, Brooke ran through another three. Edited, this segment of the commercial would run twelve and a half seconds. That it took only three hours to set up and film showed that she ran a tight schedule.
'It's a wrap. Thanks,' she added as she accepted the cup of ice water from her assistant. 'We'll set up in front of the restaurant in…' She glanced at her watch. 'Two hours, Fred, double-check on the Rolls and the actress. E.J., I'll take the film into editing myself.' Even as she spoke, Brooke walked over to the mound. 'Mr. Friedman.' With a smile, she held out her hand. 'Thank you.'
He found her grip firm and her eyes soft. 'My pleasure.' With a chuckle, he tossed a spare ball into his mitt. 'You know, in my day ball players plugged razor blades or beer. We endorsed bats and gloves.' He cast a glance at Parks, who was signing a baseball for a technician. 'No fancy designers would have asked us to sport his clothes.'
Brooke shifted her eyes to.Parks. He was laughing now, shaking his head at EJ. as the cameraman ticked off some point on his fingers. The casually elegant clothes suited him, as did the dark wood bat in his hand. 'I'd hate to have him know I said it, Mr. Friedman,' Brooke commented as she turned back to the coach, 'but Parks is a natural.'
With a shout of laughter, Friedman patted her on the back. 'He won't hear it from me, sweetheart. Last thing my pitchers need is a third baseman with a big head. One more thing,' he added before Brooke turned away. 'I watched the way you run things.'
He gave her an expansive grin that revealed good dentures. 'You'd make a hell of a coach.'
'Thanks.' Pleased with the compliment, Brooke made her. way toward the plate, and Parks. 'You did very well.'
He regarded her extended hand with amusement, but accepted it. 'For a rookie?' he countered.
When she started to remove her hand, Parks held it firmly, running a light fingertip over the inside of her wrist. He had the satisfaction of feeling her pulse jump then speed up. 'I didn't anticipate any problems, as you were simply playing yourself.' Behind her, technicians were taking down lights and coiling cable. She heard E.J. describing the new lady he was seeing in glowing, if exaggerated, terms. Using all her willpower, Brooke concentrated on the background noises instead of the feel of Parks's finger tracing over her skin. 'The next scene should be fairly easy. We'll go over it on location this afternoon. If you have any questions-''
'Just one,' Parks interrupted. 'Come here a minute.' Without waiting for agreement, he drew her toward the dugout, stepped inside then just through the door that led to the locker rooms.
'What's the problem, Parks?' Brooke demanded. 'I have to get into editing before the next shoot.'
'Are we finished here for now?'
With an impatient sigh, Brooke gestured to the equipment being packed. ''Obviously.''
