Hey guys! Like I said before the current story, Remember When, right now is on hiatus! I am completely blocked in what to write next! I am so sorry for bailing on you guys! I have really tried but I just can't finish it at the moment. I am so excited for this story and it would really mean a lot to me if you guys would favorite, follow, and review/read the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of The Vampire Diares. I do not own Nora Robert's books I own only half of the plot.

Remember, I do not own the characters and I own only some of the plot! Thanks guys!

Chapter 1

"Does it have to be a jock?" Elena Gilbert asked out of frustration. Taking a long sip of her cappuccino, she rubbed her temples.

"You don't need to complain," Jenna Sommers returned mildly. "If Lockwood Sports wants to use an athlete for promotion, why should you object?" Gazing at the clock on the wall she added, "After all, you will be making a lot more money directing that commercial."

Elena gave Jenna a long hard look. Big, brown eyes bored into perky hazel eyes. Neither one backing out of the staring contest. One of Elena's greatest talents, and weapons, is her ability of stare down anyone. Whether it was a CEO of a major company or her brother fighting over the remote years ago. She learned to use it to defend herself and her insecurities and later on it became an art. Although it impressed everyone else, it did not impress Jenna. Becoming prone to her death stare didn't scare her. At thirty-eight, she was the head of a multimillion dollar company that she started with brains and guts. For fifteen years, she had run things her way, and she intended to keep right on doing so.

She'd known Elena for about ten years- since Elena had been a twenty-one year old upstart who had wheedled her way into a job with S Productions. Then she'd watched Elena work her way up from gofer to gaffer, from gaffer to assistant cameraman and from there to director. Jenna had never regretted the impulse that had led her to give Elena her first fifteen second commercial.

Ever since Elena walked through those gold and brass doors, Jenna knew there was potential in her. The spark in her eye that she would get as she shouted cut or action was enough to convince Jenna that Elena would be the next CEO of the company after her. They shared two traits- ambition and independence.

After a moment, Elena gave up with a sigh. "A jock," she muttered again as she gazed around her office.

It was one small room, the pale green walls lined with stills from dozens of her commercials. There was a love-seat, reupholstered in light beige corduroy—not comfortable enough to have long chats with clients. The chair with the tufted back had been picked up at yard sale along with the deep mahogany coffee table that leaned crookedly against the wall.

She sat behind an old wooden desk that had been used quite a lot. One of the six drawers didn't close properly. She tried to remember to get it fixed, but never had the time. Pens and pencils were slammed into Sevres vases, while empty flower pots lined the window sill.

"Damn, Jenna, why can't they get an actor?" Elena tossed up her hands in her one theoretical gesture, and then dropped her chin on them. "Do you know how hard it is to try and coax ball players and rock stars to say a line without freezing or hamming up?" With a disgusted mutter that gave no room for comment, she pushed a pile of papers into a semi ordered heap on her already messy desk. "One call to a casting agent and I could have one hundred qualified actors lining up at that door, itching for the job."

"You know it increases sales if a production's hyped by a recognizable name or familiar face." Patiently Jenna pushed a speck of lint from her dress suit and stood up.

"Recognizable name?" Elena tossed back. "Who's ever heard of Damon Salvatore? Stupid name." she muttered to herself.

"Every baseball fan in the country," the mild smile told Elena it was useless to argue. Therefore, be prepared to argue further.

"We're selling clothes, not Louisville Sluggers."

"Eleven golden gloves, a lifetime batting average of three twenty-five. He's leading the league in RBI's this season. Salvatore has been at third base in the All-Star game for 11 consecutive seasons."

Elena narrowed her eyes, "How do you know all this? You don't follow baseball."

"I do my homework." A cool smile touched Jenna's round, pampered face. She'd never had a face lift but was religious about her visits to Elizabeth Arden. "That's why I'm a successful producer with my job. Now you better do yours."

"Whatever you have planned for tonight… cancel it. I have two tickets to the Yankees and Twins game tonight."

"Who are they?"

"This is why you must do your homework, Elena." With that, Jenna walked out the door, with a knowing smile that tonight was going to be interesting.

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Two hours later Elena still didn't know what to research. What do you look up about baseball? All you do is hit a white ball with a bat and run around some bases. As she sat there twirling her deep, rich, chocolate brown hair into a braid. She was girly enough to want to keep it long, but tom boyish enough to keep it up in a pony or braid all the time. Her hair hung down towards her long lean torso. The blouse and jeans matching perfectly thanks to her friend Caroline.

Her eyes a deep shade of brown and her nose a small little stump. That smile of hers could light up a whole room if she dug deep enough inside of her heart to find the love she had been missing for quite some time. She had an unsettling face-beautiful one moment, austere the next, but always demanding. She would always wear little to no amount of makeup. Today was an exception though. The slight touch of peach-red lip gloss and the black mascara spruced up her look she thought.

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Less than a block away stood Damon Salvatore. With his hands in his pockets, he glared at his agent."Why did I ever let you talk me into this?"

Alaric Saltzman smirked at his friend and client. Finally letting his face go easy he replied, "Because you trust me."

"My biggest mistake yet." He said with and easy smile. He stood there studying Alaric for quite some time. His receding hairline and chiseled chin didn't go with his unnerving black eyes. Of course he trusted him. They had been friends even before he went pro. Alaric was always there to support him when his father wasn't. Giuseppe Salvatore was an extremely talented man. Building a multinational company from the ground up at the age of 20 was most definitely not easy but he conquered it. Raising two almost teenage boys when Isabella Salvatore passed away due to cancer wasn't easy either. But he did it. Of course there was the favoring of Damon's younger brother, Stefan, but what else was different back then.

When Damon told his father he wanted to play baseball in high school, he freaked out. When he told him he got offered into the league after college, it was a world war III. Damon being the oldest and all always made Giuseppe think he would take over the business. Of course he claimed he loved Stefan more than Damon, but he always thought Damon would be a better business man than Stefan. When he died almost 14 years ago, the young Salvatores were left in frenzy. His will stated that Damon would inherit absolutely nothing unless he would become the CEO of his father's company. Stefan would get to claim everything. Whether it was the 3 estates across the country, of the 7 estates across the world, or all of his fortunes, he would get EVERYTHING.

When Damon graduated college he made a promise to himself, that no matter what, he would not agree to take over the business. When he signed over all the rights to his brother, he was positive he was making the right decision. Left with nothing he confided in his new friend and drinking buddy, Alaric.

Finally breaking out of his thoughts he answered, "Just because I trust you, doesn't mean that I'm a model. I'm a third base man, damn it."

"You are not modeling Damon. You're endorsing a product. Baseball players have been doing it since the first razor blade came out." Alaric countered as a quick flash of sun shone down on to his Swiss watch.

"This isn't a shaving commercial, and I'm not endorsing a mitt. It's clothes, for God's sake. I'm going to feel like an idiot."

But you won't look like one. Alaric thought to himself. Looking over the brim of the glass of scotch and studied him. The long, lanky body was perfect for the Lockwood advertisement. Damon's tanned leaned face, ice blue eyes and tousled raven black hair had already made him a number one fan with the women, while his friendly, laid back charm had one over the men. He was easy to look at and talented, what's not to like? In summary, he was a natural. The fact that he was very intelligent was an advantage and disadvantage at times.

"Damon, you're hot. You are also thirty-four. How much longer are you going to play ball?"

Damon answered with a glare. Alaric knew of his vow to retire from the sport at thirty-five. "What does that have to do with it?"

"Face it; you won't be playing baseball that much longer. You need to have a career and future to fall back on."

"I do have a future to fall back on. Maui- fishing, sleeping in the sun, oogling women."

That wouldn't last more than two months. Alaric thought, be refrained from saying it aloud.

"I don't need the money, so why am I going to be working all winter instead of lying on the Hawaiian beaches."

"Because it's good for you. It's good for the game. The campaign will enhance the image of the game. And." He added with one of his puckish smiles, "You signed a contract."

"I'm going to get some extra batting practice in." and with that he rose, but turned around abruptly and said, "If I screw up and make a fool of myself - I'm coming after you."

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Elena stomped on the break of her BMW. Making the tires screech to a halt outside of Jenna's mansion's white marbled steps. She drives two different speeds: stop and go. Stepping out of the car she breathed in the fresh smell of Jenna's backyard garden. The peonies losing their last petal as the summer come to an end and fall starts. Striding up the stairs in the loose-limbed gait that came from a combination of long legs and preoccupation. In a crown, he walk would cause men's head to turn and stare but Elena neither noticed nor cared.

Knocking briskly on the door then turning the knob out of impatience. Finding it unlocked, opened it wider and shouted, "Jenna! Are you almost ready? I'm starving!" an organized woman came walking down the stairs that lead to the foyer. "I still can't see you sitting in this heat surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, yelling fans."

"This way you will be able to see what he is like in a game and how he responds to tons of people. It will be a good experience for you." Jenna walks over to the black and grey granite table leaning against the south wall, right below the exquisite painting she bought from France. Grabbing her purse she turns and looks at Elena, "Are you ready to go?"

"Of course I'm ready. I'm so hungry!"

"Two hot dogs. It takes forty-five minutes to get to the stadium. You wouldn't want to miss them enter the field now would you?"

"I guess not"

Elena swore and rammed her car into first. In less than thirty minutes she was trying to find a parking space at Yankee stadium. Who knew Baseball was so popular? Was all that was running through her head. She gave a loud whoop when she found an empty space. Swerving into it she missed the car to her left by a nose, and parked as close as she could to the car on her left, leaving Jenna no room to exit the car. Together they followed the crowd swarming towards the stadium. There was a scent of heated asphalt, heavy air and damp humidity—New York in late August. Above them the sky was darkening so that the stadium lights sent up a white misty glow. Inside, they walked past the stands that hawked pennants and pictures and programs. Elena could smell popcorn, grilled meats, and a tang of beer. Her stomach lighting up instantly.

"Do you know where you're going?" she demanded.

"I always know where I'm going." Jenna replied, turning in to an aisle that sloped downward.

They emerged to find the stadium bright as daylight and crammed with bodies. There was the continual buzz of thousands of voices over piped-in, soft rock music. Walking vendors carried trays of food and drink strapped over their shoulders. Excitement. Elena could feel the electricity of it coming in waves. Instantly, her own apathy vanished to be replaced by an avid curiosity. People were her obsession, and here they were, thousands of them, packed together in a circle around a field of green grass and dirt.

Something other than hunger began to stir in her. "Look at them all, Jenna," she murmured. "Is it always like this I wonder?"

"The Yankees are having a winning season. They're leading their division by three games, have two potential twenty-game-winning pitchers and a third baseman who's batting three seventy-eight for the year. I told you to do your homework." She sent Elena a lifted-brow look over her shoulder.

"Mmm-hmm." But Elena was too caught up in the people. Who were they? Where did they come from? Where do they go after the game is over?

She followed Jenna down the concrete steps slowly, letting her eyes record everything going on around them. She saw two old men arguing over the soon to be outcome of the game. A little boy, not over the age of six, wearing a two size too big shirt and hat sporting the NY logo. Navy blue and white Yankee's pennants were waved, children carrying a mitt, hoping to catch a home run tonight.

Jenna stopped and looked at the tag on the seat. "This is our box. We are fairly close to third base here." She observed with a satisfied look.

If Elena was to do a commercial about baseball, it wouldn't be about the game, but about the crowd. Interrupted out of her thoughts, Jenna handed her a hot dog. "Here, my treat. Now just pay attention to third base."

"Yes, but-" the crowd roared as the home team took the field. Elena watched the men move to their positions, dressed in marvelous blue and white baseball uniforms and socks. They didn't look foolish she thought, they looked rather heroic.

Damon's back was to her as he kicked up a bit of dust around the base. But Elena didn't strain to get a look of his face. At the moment, she didn't need to- his build was slimming and tall, but still muscular. Six-one she estimated, about 170 pounds of pure muscle. She leaned her elbow on the rail, resting her chin on her now sweaty hands.

He's lanky, she thought. He will show off clothes well. As Damon dipped down to snatch a grounder, her thoughts disappeared. Something intruded her professional survey that she quickly pushed aside. How he moved. Catlike? No, she shook her head, no he was all man.

sorry guys that it is so short but if I was to post the whole thing, than it would be wayyyyy to long.

Well there you have it! did you like it? sorry it is later in the week but we have had volleyball games and tests! I just want to thank all of you guys who read, review, or favorite my stories! Hopefully the next chapter will be up next week sometime! Have a good weekend!

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-Autumn!