He whirled around in his chair, eyes wide. “You shared our troubles with outsiders? It’s bad enough we have this snake in our offices, but to share it with other people? That’s unacceptable.” He slammed his fist on his chair and winced slightly.
Well, this was starting out well. Clearly, her father still had a great deal of animosity towards Lucas. That wouldn’t be easy to overcome. She had hoped a winning record and proof of success would soothe his ruffled feathers. She should have known better. Her father never admitted he was wrong.
Lucas’s face had hardened like a statue and his eyes burned like coals at her father’s words.
He visibly relaxed his muscles and met Seamus’s gaze evenly. “Do you hear what people are saying about the team? They’re impressed, excited,watching. Ticket sales are slowly increasing and people are following the team. That was Miranda’s doing.”
“Big deal,” Seamus muttered. “They followed us in the fall and were quick to forget over the winter. Trust me, they won’t be loyal unless you can win more and, honestly, with this approach, you can’t keep it up. You don’t have the players.”
Miranda laid a soothing hand on her father’s arm. “You’re right. We can’t win the pennant without new players. But this time, we won’t rush to make a trade and be forced to choose from second or third rate players like during spring training. We wait, put together a decent season, and strike when other teams start to dump, right before mid-season. That’s when the players will be on the market. And we choose the right players for our model, using these statistics to find the right fit. And then we continue winning.”
His father looked at her as if he hadn’t seen her before. “Statistics? I’ll give you statistics. Home runs, strikeouts, earned run average. Those are what count.”
“No, they aren’t.” Miranda shook her head. “What counts are wins. That’s the bottom line. And make no mistake, wearewinning.”
Gwen stepped in the room. “Dinner is ready. I hope you like fried chicken. I’m trying some new recipes with low fat.”
“And low taste,” Seamus muttered as he struggled to his feet, shaking off Miranda’s offer of assistance.
“Seamus, you said you liked it.” Gwen admonished.
He looked down, like a chastened child. “It was good.” He lifted his gaze and glared at Miranda. “Do you see what I’m reduced to? Low fat, low calorie meals. Oh and no Scotch. Can you believe that? Maybe I shouldn’t have woken up. What’s the joy in living anymore?”
“Daddy!” Miranda was shocked at his words.
“Ignore your father, dear. He’s just looking for attention.” Gwen didn’t seem too upset about his words.
Lucas slipped an arm around Miranda and squeezed gently before following her father. Seamus twisted around and glared at the embrace.
“What’s this? Are you trying to finish me off? Are you two dating?” His voice rose with every word, anger evident in his tone.
“Seamus, remember the doctor told you to stay calm.” Gwen patted his arm and tugged him towards the dining room, Miranda and Lucas following more slowly.
“Maybe this was a mistake,” she murmured under her breath.
“Stay firm, Miranda. We can get through this.”
She stopped and tilted back, looking up at him. “Why do you put up with me? With all of this?”
He pecked her on the lips. “Maybe I think you’re worth it.”
Would he still feel that way after the night ended? She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.
*
Dinner didn’t reallyimprove from there. Seamus expressed his disapproval with everything from the team, to their relationship, to the types of napkins. Once they headed for the door, Miranda felt wrung out like a week-old dishcloth that was falling apart. Seamus barely grunted when they said goodbye, but Gwen followed them to the door. She pulled Miranda close for one final word.
“Ignore your father, dear. He’s scared and hates relying on other people for anything. Once he gets through this, I’m sure he’ll be more open to your suggestions, and your relationship. Don’t let him drive a wedge between you and Lucas. He’s a nice boy.”
She turned and hugged Lucas, whispering in his ear, too. Lucas blushed and hugged her back. “Thank you for dinner, Gwen.”
“Come back soon!” She called out then closed the door.
Miranda turned and quirked a brow at Lucas. “So what did my mother have to say?”
He grinned. “She was telling me the recipe for that chicken.”
Miranda grimaced. “God, it was pretty tasteless, wasn’t it? No wonder daddy is cranky.”
He shrugged. “It’s only bad for people used to true Southern cooking. I tasted chicken like that up north all the time.”
“You poor baby.” She laid a hand on his chest, running her hands over him. “How can I make it up to you?”
He pulled her close. “I’ll think of something.”
She laughed low and they headed for the car.