by Raine Thomas
“What’re these guys doing for you in return?” Randy asked.
Eddie smirked and said, “Paying more attention during the games.”
Cole, Randy, and Reynaldo all exchanged glances, probably reasoning out what he was trying to do. The starting pitchers were just as concerned as he was over the bullpen’s shortcomings. When Cole met his gaze, Will saw understanding there.
“Sounds a little uneven on the exchange to me, Campbell,” Cole observed as he dealt more cards. “Seems like maybe you should reserve some favors for later if you’re doing all of these projects.”
“Maybe,” Will said. “It might have to be financial favors at the rate I’m going tonight.”
Several of the players chortled.
“Or I’d take tickets to one of The Void’s concerts in July,” he thought to add. “Katie’s birthday is that month and she wants to go, but the tickets sold out months ago.”
“I might be able to help you with that,” Cole offered. “Evan, Javy, and I played in a charity softball game out in L.A. last November with The Void, and my cousin worked closely with one of the band’s members. I’d be happy to reach out to my contact and see about getting tickets for you.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
“Man, I’d owe you one. Thanks a lot for offering.”
“If you stick to what you’ve started around here,” Cole said, giving Will a meaningful look, “we’d be even.”
Knowing he was talking about his plan to engage the bullpen and try to make them stronger, Will nodded. There was no mistaking the relief he saw on each of the starting pitcher’s faces. Had he known how much impact his efforts would have on the entire team, he might have tried harder to engage his fellow bullpen players before now.
Oh, well, he told himself. There was no going back now. There were, however, two solid reasons to keep moving forward with his plan: concert tickets for his little girl’s birthday and the potential of a World Series championship.
* * *
“The red one,” May said.
Jasmine turned and assessed her reflection in the dressing room mirror. The long, black evening gown was classic and elegant. The V-shaped neckline and three-quarter length sleeves were perfectly tasteful. She was sure she’d fit right in at the charity event Will was taking her to in a few days.
It was also dreadfully boring.
The red dress she’d tried on earlier was shorter and sassier. The asymmetrical hemline fell long enough over her right knee to mostly cover her surgery scar, and rose into a sexy, mid-thigh slit over her left leg. The dress had a heart-shaped neckline and off-the-shoulder sleeves, leaving a tantalizing amount of skin bare. She was sure Will wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off her, which was one of the reasons she liked it so much…and which probably meant it was a terrible idea.
“This one’s cheaper and safer,” Jasmine argued.
“I’m buying, so take that part out of the equation.”
“May, you are not buying me this dress.”
“Yes, I am.” Her sister rose from her spot on one of the dressing room’s chairs and met her gaze in the mirror. “I know you don’t have much money left after paying off your PT bills. You certainly don’t have enough for a splurge like this. You can consider this a birthday present.”
“My birthday isn’t for another three months.”
“Then think of it as self-preservation. The more money you spend right now, the longer you have to share my bedroom with me.”
Jasmine considered that. “That’s a fair point.” She did another turn in the mirror. “This is still the safer option. There will be a lot of rich people at this thing. This is what I picture rich women wearing.”
“You said Will told you it was cocktail attire. This dress is more black-tie optional. You should go with the red one.”
Not needing any further convincing, Jasmine smiled. “Okay. Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“You’re welcome.” May got the dress’s zipper started for her. “Now go get changed. We’re going to be late for dinner with Bàba.”
“Okay, okay.” She went into the stall she had used for changing and shimmied out of the dress. “Since you mentioned me sharing your bedroom,” she said through the stall door, “I’ve been meaning to say you’ll have to let me know if I need to make myself scarce so you and Steven can have some alone time.”
May had recently ventured into the world of online dating after a couple years of trying to hack it on her own. She had met Steven a few weeks ago and they’d gone on a handful of dates.
The sound of her sister buzzing her lips floated through the door. “We’re not even close to that phase yet,” May said.
“Really? What are you waiting for?”
“Is this really a conversation we should be having here?”
“We have the place to ourselves. Stop being such a prude.”
May had always been the stereotypical firstborn child. Responsible. Rule-abiding. Structured. Jasmine, while she appreciated the need for discipline and control in her dance career, was more carefree when it came to her relationships. While she hadn’t dated anyone in nearly two years thanks largely to her injury, she enjoyed going out on dates and being social. This upcoming date with Will had given her mood its biggest boost in ages.
“I’m not sure I feel that way about him,” May said.
“Why not? Isn’t he attractive?”
“Not in a young Elvis kind of way, but I wouldn’t beat him off me with a stick.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes and finished putting her shoes back on. As she opened the stall door, she said, “You’ve really got to adjust your expectations beyond The King, sis. Sometimes all a woman needs is hot sex and a satisfying orgasm.”
“Amen,” chimed a voice from one of the other stalls.
May’s cheeks flushed with color. Jasmine brought her fingers to her lips to stop a laugh.
“Oops.”
Issuing a deep sigh, May took the two dresses from her and headed for the dressing room’s exit. Ten minutes later, they were climbing into Jasmine’s car and heading to their father’s house. They tried to meet with him for dinner every couple of weeks.
He greeted them with hugs when they arrived. “Hello, my daughters,” he said. “So nice to see you, as always.”
“Good to see you too, Bàba,” May said.
Jasmine kissed her father’s cheek and murmured a polite greeting. Things between them were still strained. The past three months had been among the most difficult of her life. Her father’s increasing lack of support toward her dance career wasn’t helping.
“Just because you can dance again doesn’t mean that you should,” he’d said at their last dinner together after her final PT appointment. “You need to allow your body to heal.”
“I have healed,” she argued. “My doctor gave me clearance. I’ve already started upping my exercise and practice regimens to prep for auditions in the coming couple months. There will be companies planning ahead for holiday ballets.”
“So you’ll give up your steady work to make little more than minimum wage in an inconsistent work environment?”
Jasmine had put down her silverware with great care. “Why are you saying these things? You’ve always known this was my path. You never voiced these objections before.”
“You weren’t hurt before.”
That had eased some of Jasmine’s hurt and anger. “Bàba, all jobs involve risks of some kind. Even you face risks going out to a college campus every day in a time where mass shootings happen on an alarming basis. I’ve worked hard to overcome my injury. I deserve to pursue this dream.”
“You’re right about the risks we all face,” her father had conceded. “But I can’t help but wish you’d find a new dream, my child.”
Now they stood on opposite sides of a critical line. Jasmine didn’t need her father’s support to achieve her goals, but it did hurt her heart not to have it.
By some mi
racle, they managed to avoid discussing her dancing or her injury as they sat down to eat. May kept the conversation going, sharing stories about the past couple weeks at Steamy Beans. She talked so much that Jasmine wondered if she’d snuck in an extra shot of espresso when she wasn’t looking.
“So, Jasmine, will you tell me about this young girl, Katie?” her father said when May eventually paused for breath.
Jasmine turned to give her sister a look. May winced.
“I’m so sorry,” May said. “It slipped out when Bàba asked about getting together on Saturday. I mentioned Will and one thing led to another.”
Apparently that explained her sister’s uncharacteristic chatter, Jasmine silently grumbled.
“Why would you not share this news with me yourself?” her father asked.
“Because I knew you’d just use it as more ammunition to try to convince me to give up my pursuit of a job as a dancer.”
He took a moment to process that before nodding. “I suppose you are right. If you can teach children and young adults for respectable money instead of risking further injury to yourself, why would you not do it?”
She’d be lying if those same thoughts hadn’t entered her own head over the past couple months. But it stung to have them spoken by someone whose support she no longer had.
Folding her hands together in her lap and gripping them tight, she said, “Because I’ve come too far to turn back now. I’ve committed myself to nearly twenty years of rigorous lessons. More recitals than I could ever remember. Hours and hours of practice nearly every day. Four years of higher education. This is my life, Bàba. I’d appreciate it if you’d allow me to live it.”
Silence descended on the table. Jasmine didn’t care. She was tired of being made to feel like she was a fool for returning to the path she’d been on for most of her life.
Now that she was this close to her goal, how could she not try to reach it?
Chapter Fifteen
On the day of the benefit, Will hired a chartered car to drive him and Jasmine to and from the event. He knew there would be a bar and he intended to have a couple beers throughout the evening. He also didn’t want Jasmine to have to climb up into the Dodge in a dress. Unlike many of his teammates, he didn’t own more than one vehicle. These days he lived a more practical lifestyle.
As the car pulled up in front of the duplex where Jasmine lived, Will studied the building with an assessing eye. It was hard for him to remove his property investment hat when he visited somewhere new. Although he’d been to Steamy Beans a few times now, this was the first time he’d been to the duplex. He estimated it had been built in the nineteen-eighties based on the postmodern elements he saw in the architecture. The two sections of the home were nearly identical boxes. The right-hand side was recessed slightly from the left-hand side, easing the rigidity of the structure. A single horizontal porch roof slashed across the middle of the buildings, casting the two front doors into gloom.
Although he saw the potential in the property, he noted at least five things he would change on the exterior alone as he walked up to the left-hand door and depressed the doorbell. He intended to keep those opinions to himself, however, knowing they wouldn’t make the right impression on Jasmine’s sister.
It was May who opened the front door to greet him. “Hi, Will,” she said, standing back to allow him entrance. “It’s nice to see you again, especially in that suit.”
He instinctively straightened his tie. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a pale gray shirt and blue-gray tie that he’d been told matched his eyes.
“Thanks,” he said. “Good to see you too.”
“Jasmine’s almost ready.”
“Not a problem. I’m a couple minutes early, and it’s never fun being the first to arrive at these things.”
“You got time for a beer?” she asked, moving into the family room right off the small entrance area. He assumed she was heading to the attached galley-style kitchen. “We’ve got Miller Lite and Bud Light.”
“Really?”
“I know. The classic beer battle. It’s the one thing Danny and Tobias argue about. Thank God they usually go for wine.”
He’d met Jasmine and May’s roommates once at Steamy Beans and found them highly entertaining. “I’ll have a Miller, thanks.”
“You did not just say you’re going to drink a Miller Lite,” came Danny’s voice from the top of the stairs directly in front of the door.
Will glanced up and saw Danny coming down the stairs at a jog. Will took a few steps to his left into the family room to avoid being run down. When Danny reached the bottom, he paused and looked from Will to May in the kitchen. He lowered his head into his hands at the sight of the Miller Lite she held.
“Oh, no,” he said, his voice muffled. “Tobias will never shut up about this.”
Accepting the beer from May, Will said, “If it helps, I’m really more of a craft beer drinker, so I’m not officially siding with either of you.”
Danny lowered his hands. “I’ll have to cling to that. Thanks.”
“Come on in and have a seat, Will,” May said, reaching for the glass of wine sitting on an end table next to one of two overstuffed chairs.
He waited until May sat down and then chose a spot on the couch across from the chairs. “Is Tobias working then?”
“Yep,” she said. “We’re usually on alternating shifts.”
“Ah. Does that make it tough for you, Danny?”
“Not really,” he said from the kitchen. His head was in the fridge. “I’m a freelancer, so I set my own schedule.”
“That’s cool.” Will took a drink of his beer and looked around the room. “You’ve got a nice place here.”
The warm brown leather sofa contrasted in a pleasing way with the ocean blue fabric of the chairs. A well-worn wood chest served as a coffee table and gave the space a homey feel. Two narrow end tables, a couple of lamps, and a television stand bearing a flat-panel TV on it completed the furnishings.
“Nice enough décor, crappy place,” May replied. “The landlord’s a lazy asshole.”
“He really is,” Danny agreed as he took the other chair with a Bud Light in-hand. “That lingering smell in the air is from the veggie lasagna our joke of an oven burned earlier.”
Will shrugged. He’d only caught the scent of vanilla coming from the candle burning on the kitchen bar. “Is the oven gas or electric?”
“Electric,” May replied.
“It probably just needs to be recalibrated. Do you happen to have the manual that came with the oven?”
May’s eyebrows lifted. “No.”
“That’s fine. Most of them are available online these days. I’d be happy to take a look at it.”
Danny reached across the end table between the chairs and grasped May’s hand. “I think we need to be nice to this guy.”
She smiled and sipped her wine. “As long as he’s nice to my sister.”
“Quit giving Will a hard time.”
At the sound of Jasmine’s voice, Will rose and set his beer on a coaster on the end table next to the sofa. Since the sound had traveled from upstairs, he waited, his heart suddenly pounding, for her to make her appearance.
The first thing he saw emerge from beyond the wall hiding the stairwell was her foot. A single black high heel shoe and a slender ankle followed by the feminine curve of her bare calf. He was unable to look away from those sexy-as-sin legs as they both came into his view. Lord, was he thrilled she hadn’t decided to cover them up. Just thinking about getting to look at them any time he wanted that evening made him feel like a prize winner.
When he saw the red fabric starting at her knees, his head tilted and his forehead creased. That was the expression she saw when she finally stood in front of him in all her magnificence.
She paused when she saw him. “You look surprised.” Planting a hand on one of her hips, she waved at her breasts and said, “Let me guess. You’re wondering where these came from.” Before
he could reply, she went on, “I wear sports bras when I dance. You haven’t seen me out of one before.”
Will cleared a laugh from his throat. “Actually, I was surprised to see you wearing something other than black.”
She lowered the hand from her hip. “Oh.”
“But you do have lovely breasts,” he added.
May and Danny issued chuckles from behind him. Jasmine gave him a wry look and pushed at his shoulder as she moved past him into the family room.
“I suppose I do wear a lot of black, don’t I?” she said as she headed to the kitchen with a seductive sway to her hips. “That’s because of Dido. She’s a long-haired black cat who sheds. I gave up the fight years ago.” Looking over at him, she asked, “Do I have time for half a glass of wine while you finish that beer?”
“Sure.”
He took another moment with her attention turned just to stare at her. Not only was she wearing a color other than black, her beautiful dark hair was down. She’d pulled the hair at her temples back into some kind of fancy mini-bun, but the rest fell in soft waves down to between her shoulder blades. Between that and the sultry makeup she had on, it was a miracle he didn’t drool.
“You look amazing,” he said, picking up his beer and returning to the sofa.
She smiled at him from across the room. “Thanks. So do you.”
May and Danny watched him with amused expressions. He drank more beer before asking, “Do you know what kind of oven you have?”
“A shitty one,” Jasmine said as she walked over to the sofa and sat beside him.
Her beckoning scent floated over to him. He fought the urge to lean over and start nuzzling her neck.
“It’s an off-brand,” May said.
“Okay. I can check it before we leave.”
“You’re not here to fix stuff,” Jasmine argued. “You’re hardly dressed for looking around a dirty oven.”
“Jazzy’s right,” Danny said. “Maybe if you tell us where to look, we can check for you.”
Will lifted a finger in Danny’s direction. “One moment, please.” He shifted to face Jasmine more directly. “Jazzy?”
