Love from Left Field by Megan Ryder Page B

baseman?” Miranda asked, trying to follow the conversation.
    “Because we have Lockhart.” Sam’s voice exploded. “We decided all of this weeks ago, with your father. Why are we rehashing everything?”
    She’d found her first opponent. The one guy she needed on her side to make everything work. If he wasn’t open to new players, would he be open to a new style of play? Doubtful.
    She leaned towards the phone, lowering her voice to a more soothing tone. “Sam, we need a new catcher. I agree that Lockhart will probably be fine at first but Moreno just can’t handle the rigors of the season anymore and he’s not connecting with our pitching staff. We need to change some things around to get wins. We can’t sign big names, not that there are too many out there right now and we don’t have the farm system to trade for them. Minnesota might be willing to talk.”
    “Who are you thinking of giving up? I don’t think they’ll accept Moreno alone.” Cole asked.
    “Moreno and Hardesty,” Miranda replied.
    “Hardesty? He’s our middle relief guy, more innings than anyone last season,” Sam yelled.
    “And he gave up more fly balls and homeruns than any other middle relief. We want to focus on more ground balls this season, keeping the ball in the park and lowering the big innings.” Cole added his support with a quick glance at Miranda.
    Lucas, meanwhile, observed the whole process, not saying anything, not revealing his thoughts. He leaned to one side, idly tapping a finger on the table. His intense stare penetrated Miranda’s calm and she shifted in her seat. Now he was quiet, after poking his nose into every other discussion? What was holding him back now?
    “This is bullshit. You’re taking away everyone on my team. How do you expect me to win with this team?” Sam bellowed.
    Jason finally leaned forward. “I have reservations too, Sam. But, we can’t keep playing the old way. Almost every other team has moved into this new model, and those that haven’t adapted haven’t made it to the playoffs. Clearly, there’s something to this. Maybe we should give it a chance?”
    “Et tu, Jason?” Sam replied bitterly. “How will we win games without middle relief? None of the other guys are strong enough to pitch every day.”
    “Then we rotate them,” one of the stats guys replied. “This spreads out the work, evens out the risk, and lowers our chances of injury.”
    “So now we’re taking direction from a group of bean counters?” Sam sighed. “Fire me now because I can’t win this way.”
    Miranda opened her mouth to respond but the dial tone stopped her. She narrowed her gaze at the phone, suppressing the flash of anger at Sam’s blatant disrespect for her, something he would have never done if it had been her father sitting here. Mentally she counted to ten, then ten again before raising her eyes. The two stats guys leaned together and spoke in rapid whispers, apprehension clear on their faces.
    Miranda sighed heavily and looked at Cole. “I’ll deal with Sam later. Cole, Jason. What are your thoughts?”
    “This was my proposal a few years ago. I’m on board, although I have doubts that it can really affect our bottom line as quickly as we need to.”
    “I’m concerned that we’ll cause more problems by not implementing this right because we don’t have time.” Jason said, resignation in his voice and slumped shoulders.
    “Lucas?” Miranda caught the flash of irritation that crossed Cole’s face. “What are your thoughts?”
    Lucas stared at the table, seeming to ignore everyone in the room. Finally, he straightened and turned abruptly into the sharp businessman she had expected. “I think you need to make changes. You can’t remain stagnant. You need new blood on the team and make it look like you’re trying. Not making any moves when everyone knows your team is weak only discourages your fans and makes it harder to win them back. So make a goddamn decision and stick with