Free The Devil in Denim by Melanie Scott

far away and leave me and the team alone.”
    “Well, that’s honest. But it’s not going to happen. And, at this point, if we go down in flames, then the Saints will go down too. It’d be a pity to see over a hundred years of history come to an end because you’re too damned pissed at me to help out.”
    “I thought you said there were other investors.”
    “Honestly? Anyone else who buys the team is going to move it.”
    She almost dropped her glass, the words hitting her like a gut punch. “Move it?” She hadn’t even considered that possibility.
    He shrugged. “The field’s old and small, which means the gate’s not that good and the TV deals aren’t great. Plus we’re the third wheel in New York baseball. It makes more sense to move somewhere else where you can make more money.”
    That sounded as though he’d thought about the idea a little too much. Which didn’t help the ache in her stomach.
    “So why aren’t you moving it?”
    “I told you. The three of us love this team. Right here in New York. We want to see if we can make it work.”
    “What if you can’t?”
    “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I don’t plan on having to do that. So, if you want the Saints to stay the Saints, then you want to be on my side.”
    Was he bluffing? She thought again about the vote and the possibility of the other owners vetoing the sale. Surely her dad would see the light if they did? He wouldn’t let the Saints be relocated, would he?
    You thought he’d never sell the Saints. You don’t know what he might do .
    “And if I say no?”
    His eyes narrowed. She got the feeling not many people said no to this man.
    “That wouldn’t be my preferred option. It would be harder on the team. And mean I’d have to make some tough decisions.”
    Her stomach lurched. “What do you mean?”
    “Like I said. The Saints are in trouble. There are going to be some cuts.”
    “I thought you were richer than God.”
    “Hardly. And even if I—and my partners—were, that doesn’t mean we’re going to throw good money after bad. We’re not a blank check. There are lots of big-ticket items around here that need to be covered.”
    “Such as?”
    “The stadium needs a refurb—an expansion would be even better. And a complete security upgrade if Mal’s telling me the truth. The IT system here stinks and the tower needs some structural work too. We need to upgrade the press facilities if we want any chance at a better TV deal.”
    “You can’t get all of that done before the season starts.”
    “No, but we can do some of it. But it all costs money, lots of money. Even before we start looking at bringing in new players.”
    Her mouth dried. Crap. She’d been right about him. “You want to make changes to the team? But they did great last year.”
    “They did. But they could do better. Tom should’ve made some cuts. There will be some changes. And all of this adds up. Which means there’s less money for the things that aren’t immediately going to deliver for the team.” His face grew serious.
    “Such as?” Her stomach tensed again. She got a sick feeling that she knew what he was going to say.
    “We may have to let one of the minor league teams go. And cut back on the ancillary programs. There’s a lot of money going into the urban youth programs and the women’s leagues you started.”
    “Those programs are important!” Maggie snapped. “You can’t cut those.”
    “I don’t want to. But it’s a matter of priorities. If I’m going to have to spend all my time getting the team on board, then I don’t have time to keep all the balls in the air.”
    “You’re blackmailing me.”
    “No. I’m just saying that if you don’t come work for me, then you won’t have a chance to help me make my mind up about some of these things.”
    “I think that’s a polite way of saying you’re blackmailing me.” The sick feeling in her stomach was being burned away again by anger. This man was