Maggie didn’t usually have time to watch the games from the stands, preferring to watch the closed-circuit feed while she worked. But Dwight kept bugging her to watch in person at least once in a while. So one day she took Crush up on his offer of a front row seat on the third base line.
“You can join Wendy and me in the owner’s box, but it’s further from the action. You probably want to be right in the mix. Maybe catch a fly ball or flirt with one of the players…not naming any names.” He winked one bright hazel eye at her. Crush could get away with that kind of comment because of his general irreverence about everything—including her work.
But he was finally losing his skepticism, she believed. So far, three players she’d recommended were playing for the Catfish and doing great. Her suc
