Yet tonight, maybe for the first time, he realized love might not be enough to keep them together. His situation with AJ and Yolanda had grown complicated, even more so after AJ had planted the seed of his idea. If the kid was really onto something, it would change everything between Bo and Kim. He thought about what it would mean, really mean, to marry a virtual stranger who had kept his son from him for twelve years. Then he thought about what it would mean to live without Kim, the woman who had finally taught him to love without fear and with a full heart.
For the sake of AJ, Bo would do what he had to, but he couldn’t help counting the cost.
“Hey, don’t look so serious,” she chided him, taking his arm as they passed the lobby toward the ballroom. “It’s your big night. You’re going to knock them dead.”
“I’ll give it my best shot, coach.”
The evening was a triumph in the professional sense. Nobody, not even Kim, seemed to notice that Bo was in turmoil, his mind a million miles away, his heart already hurting over what he had to do for AJ’s sake. Kim had taught him well. You show people only what you want them to see, tell them only what you want them to hear. Time passed in a blur of handshakes, polite exchanges, hearty assurances of future meetings. After an hour or two, he had a pocket full of contacts—stars of the game, people from national TV, others who repped fine cars, booze, shaving products and all kinds of things that had nothing to do with baseball and everything to do with image. He was grateful to have Kim around. Just her presence gave him confidence. She worked the room like the pro she was, and seemed to enjoy every minute of it.
For the first time, he saw her in her element, completely at ease with guys who were named after founding fathers or investment firms, not country-western ballads. More forcefully than ever, Bo understood that not only did they come from different worlds, they belonged in different worlds.
She made a valiant attempt to make Bo seem like he belonged, too, introducing him to sportcasters and marketing experts.
“You’ve got quite a fan in this lady here,” said Stu Westfield, a producer with ESPN. “To hear her tell it, you’re going to be the second coming, bringing a balance of freshness, strength and experience to the mound.”
“Sounds better than just saying I’m old,” Bo admitted.
Westfield guffawed and shook his hand, then Kim’s. “You’re as good as you are good-looking,” he told her, “and I mean that in the best possible way. You ever do any on air reporting? Color commentary?”
“Not since my college intern days. I worked for Vin Scully,” she said, earning raised eyebrows, for Scully was a broadcasting legend in calling ball games.
Westfield tucked her business card into his pocket. “Who’s your agent?”
She laughed. “I don’t have an agent.”
“Then I’ll call you directly,” he said, giving them both a wave before both Kim and Bo were invited to chat with Joe Girardi, the team’s manager, followed by a handful of potential sponsors.
“You were fantastic,” Kim said as they left the reception. “I’m proud of you.”
Powerful words. He couldn’t believe the way they made him feel. Insane with love and gratitude, but at the same time, sick in the pit of his stomach, because he’d been hiding something all evening. AJ’s desperate suggestion had cracked open a door, and Bo knew what he had to do.
Unaware, Kim seemed to float down the carpeted hallway. “They’ll never forget you,” she told him. “I won’t let them. You’re on your way.”
“You got that right,” he murmured, his stomach in knots.
In the elevator, she sighed and pressed herself back against him, while the operator stared straight ahead. When it stopped at her floor, she tugged on Bo’s hand, towing him along behind her as she exited the elevator. Then she stopped, lifted herself up on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “I was just thinking, maybe we should go to my room and—”
Using all his self-control, Bo held her gently by the shoulders and took a step away. “Honey, you know there’s nothing I’d like better. I need to get back to AJ, though.”
Her face fell. “I just thought…”
He knew what she thought. Boy, did he ever. But until he figured out exactly what to do, he needed to put some distance between him and this woman he loved so completely. He couldn’t think straight around her.
“Anyway, I should go.” He leaned down and gently kissed her mouth.
She tilted her head to one side, studying him with a keen expression. She knew him too well, and he could tell she knew something was up. “See you in the morning, then. We can sleep in. Take the afternoon train back to Avalon.”
“Sure, sounds good.” Without thinking, without being able to resist, he cupped her cheek in his hand.
She reached up and covered his hand with hers. “Last chance. You sure you don’t want to come in for a nightcap?”
What he wanted was to come in for the entire night. For a lifetime.
“Like I said, I better check on AJ.”
There was no way to adequately explain to Kim what he intended to do. There was a reason Bo Crutcher had never broken a promise. It was because he never made one.
Something was wrong. Kim knew it. She watched Bo walking toward the elevator, as grim and resolute as a man on his way to a firing squad. “Just a second,” she said.
His shoulders stiffened; then he turned back to face her. “I should go—”
“Not before we talk. We’ll go to my room—for privacy.” She suddenly felt embarrassed for coming on to him earlier. His head was somewhere else, and she should have sensed that. Something had shifted, it was
