To the left of the bar was the hallway that led to the restrooms. She strode along the carpeted path, nodded to a trio of women heading back to the lounge, then turned the corner and grimaced at the sight of the guy at table five who’d just vacated the men’s room. With his skinny jeans, tight shirt unbuttoned to his chest, and his overly gelled hair, he was a carbon copy of most of the men who frequented the club.
“We meet again,” he said, leering at her as he approached.
How original.
The smile she gave him was the one she’d perfected since her first job at the diner. Pleasant, yet vacant. After a polite nod, she moved slightly to her right, intending to go around him. He stepped in front of her causing her to stop short.
“I’ve been watching you strut all night and all I can say is that your ass is F-I-N-E. Fine.”
His alcohol-scented breath almost made her gag, but she resisted the urge to step back. There were two ways this could go, but tonight she preferred the one that didn’t involve the bouncer or another ugly scene. If she’d pegged this guy right it would be a cinch to get rid of him. Lifting her hand, she lowered her chin and played with a curly strand of the auburn wig as she gazed up at him with a sexy smile. “I should hope so, sugar,” she said, lowering her voice an octave. “I paid a lot of money for the right…um…undergarment to wrap it and my package up nice and tight.”
His monster-sized brow creased. “Your package?”
“Yeah. This skimpy outfit shows every bulge.” Amy tilted her head and licked her lips. “If you know what I mean.”
It took a couple of seconds before he went bug-eyed. “Wait. You’re—” He stared at her with undisguised abhorrence. “Stay away from me!” he shouted, then stepped around her and hurried away.
Amy laughed as he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
“Bravo.” A deep voice called out as she started to enter the restroom.
Startled, Amy turned to find Rick standing at the corner with a wide grin on his face. Her cheeks grew warm as he headed toward her. “So…you heard that?”
“Every word.” He halted in front of her. “I told Trey last week you could handle guys like him and I was right.”
The admiration in his tone pleased her. “Thanks. I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Trey said you shouldn’t have to handle it. Which, I agree with.”
“It’s part of the job.”
“Still doesn’t make it right.”
Before she could answer, two women came around the corner and one of them let out a squeal. “Aren’t you Rick Taylor?” she asked as the duo rushed forward, excitement lighting up their eyes.
Amy chuckled. “I’ll leave you to your adoring fans.”
“Thanks a lot,” he called after her good-naturedly as she ducked inside the restroom.
It didn’t take Rick long to sign two autographs and then hit the men’s room. When he returned to the table Trey was alone. Nico, Zach, and the three women who’d joined them earlier were gone. It was a relief to be honest. Unlike Nico and Zach, he wasn’t interested in getting them into bed. The brunette who’d made herself comfortable next to him found that out pretty quickly when he’d nixed her offer to accompany her to her apartment to “see the view and other things”. He’d had a good idea of what those other things were and still didn’t take her up on it.
Propositions like hers were plentiful for ballplayers and many of his teammates (married and single) took advantage of that particular perk. If Jill hadn’t been in the picture from high school, who knows, he might have been tempted to indulge in the no-strings sex the baseball groupies, or cleat chasers as they were commonly called by the players, freely offered.
“Can I ask you a question?” Trey shoved his beer aside. Ever since his outburst at Logan-Johnson, Trey had kept to himself. Rick had assumed Trey wanted to discuss it, or at the least bitch about Adam at Kamu’s, but when they’d gotten there all he’d done was stare at the television. Maybe he was ready to talk.
“Ask away.”
“Why are we here?”
“Is this one of those existential questions?” Rick picked up his glass and drained the remainder of his club soda.
“No. What are we doing here?” Trey motioned toward the room with his hand. “Neither of us is into this scene anymore.”
“You mean you aren’t into it anymore. I never was.”
“Then why are you here?”
Rick shrugged as he set his glass on the table. “Someone’s gotta be the designated driver,” he said, then glanced at the bar. Amy had returned and was talking to the bartender. From the moment he and the guys had walked into the VIP lounge he’d been acutely aware of her. He’d hoped to talk to her and was disappointed when they’d been seated in another server’s section. She was the reason he was here tonight. There was something about her that intrigued him. Something about her that had him thinking things he hadn’t thought about since Jill died.
Their short conversation near the restroom hadn’t been long enough to suit him. When he’d first overheard her dealing with the idiot who was hitting on her, his first instinct was to tear into the asshole and teach him a much-needed lesson about respecting women. But Amy had handled the guy perfectly, and hilariously. Obviously, she was more than capable of standing up for herself.
“I’m thinking of starting a foundation.”
Rick tore his gaze from Amy’s curvy body. “A what?”
“A foundation. To help kids.” Trey leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Do you want to be a part of it?”
“Are you talking about a partnership?”
Trey nodded, and for the first time since he’d been back with the team, Rick saw genuine excitement in his friend’s eyes. “What if we set up a foundation that provides grants or scholarships for college students? We were lucky. Both of us received athletic scholarships. Not everyone has those opportunities.”
“Where would the money for the grants and scholarships come from?”
“Donations. Sponsors. I’m sure Adam can give us some ideas. Or recommend someone to guide us through the process.”
“Taking on something like this would require a good deal of time. Or at least I imagine it would, and don’t forget I signed up to volunteer at one of the City Youth Clubs not too far from the loft. I have a training session the week after Thanksgiving.”
“You could still do that. Major events that would require our participation could be scheduled during the off-season.”
“What about during the season? We’re on the road a lot.”
“That’s why we need someone to advise us. I know of several players in the league who have foundations. They’re making it work. Why can’t we?”
“Good point.”
“So you’re in?” Trey asked.
“I’m interested. But I’d like us to talk to Adam before I give you a definite answer.”
Trey gave him a firm nod. “I’ll set it up.”
“You gentlemen look like you need another round.” The statuesque server with gorgeous mahogany skin who’d introduced herself to them as Cynda pulled up next to their table. Rick remembered her humorous comment from last week and smiled. “Where are your friends?” she asked.
“Probably getting laid,” Trey said with a wry grin. “I doubt they’re coming back. And, of course, they’re sticking us with the tab.”
“And they say jocks are dumb.” Amusement tinged her voice. “So another beer and a club soda?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Rick handed her his empty glass.
Cynda made a tsking sound as she placed the glass on her tray. “Honey, can I offer you some free advice?”
“You bet.”
“I understand you’re being respectful, but addressing a woman under sixty as ma’am might not be well received.” She smiled to soften her words. “I’m just saying.”
Rick grimaced. Jesus. When would he remember that? “Sorry. I get that a lot.”
�
�He can’t help it,” Trey said with a smirk. “It’s a Texas thing.”
Just before closing time, Rick found the perfect opportunity to talk to Amy. Her section had emptied out and for the last five minutes she’d been clearing her tables. He glanced at Trey who’d been exchanging texts with Nico. “Where are they?”
“At some party in North Beach.” Trey frowned as he typed on his phone. “Nico said not to worry about them. They’ll call for an Uber if they can’t get a ride home from someone at the party.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Rick said and got up from the table. As he crossed the room the DJ finally killed the music but the repetitive techno beat still reverberated in his eardrums. He’d probably be hearing the damn pounding until he fell asleep tonight.
Amy looked up from the table she was clearing and straightened. “Heading out?” she asked as he halted in front of her.
Suddenly he had no clue what to say. He hadn’t been interested in any other woman since he was fourteen and he and Jill started dating. Shifting uncomfortably, he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and stared at her. Like last week, her eyes were heavily made-up and with her wild dark red hair, she looked like a gypsy. Out of nowhere, an overwhelming urge to run his fingers through her hair shot through him. He tamped it down and cleared his throat. “Are you okay to get to your car?” he said the first thing that came to his mind.
“Yes. Cynda and Ronnie are still here. We’ll walk out together.” She gave him a tentative smile. “But, thanks.”
“Okay, then.” He nodded. A little too vigorously. Jesus. He really was an amateur. “Well, have a good night,” he said, before turning and heading back to his table.
“Wait,” she called out before he’d taken three steps. He stopped mid-stride and turned to face her. “I—I’d like to apologize,” she said in a low voice.
“For what?”
“For what I said last week. About your wife. I didn’t know she’d passed away. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. I was surprised you didn’t know since you said you’re a Blaze fan. Most people who know who I am are aware of what happened to Jill. They usually don’t say anything about it though. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s been a while since it happened or they don’t know what to say.” He shrugged. “Could be a bit of both.”
Amy gave him a sympathetic nod. “It’s hard to know what to say, isn’t it? Even ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ seems so inadequate. But honestly, are there any words that are adequate? When my dad died nothing anybody said made me feel better. My whole world changed the day I lost my father. I’m sure yours changed forever when you lost your wife.”
“Yes.” One minute he and Jill were in love and looking forward to starting their family and the next he was sitting in the mortuary with Jill’s parents picking out a casket. The future he’d dreamed of had been shattered into a billion pieces. Pieces he was still picking up. “Everything changed.”
“Is that why you’re living here now? Because Texas holds such painful memories?”
“No. Several of my teammates live here during the off-season and I wanted to train with them.” His answer was as lame as hell, but it was hard to admit he was avoiding Jill’s parents. “The starting catcher spot is open next season. There’s some stiff competition so I intend to do everything I can to get it.”
“So you’re giving up spending time with your family to achieve your goal.” It was more of a statement than a question and he couldn’t tell by her tone if she was censuring him or not.
“You don’t approve?”
“Oh, no,” Amy said quickly. “I understand about having a goal and doing whatever you need to do to achieve it.”
“What’s your goal?”
She hesitated briefly, then answered his question. “To provide the best life I can for my son.”
Rick’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t expected that. “You have a son?”
“You look surprised. Is it so hard to believe?”
“No. It’s just that…”
“What?” Her eyes turned hard and flat. “You didn’t expect a woman who’s a mother to be working as a cocktail server?”
“It’s not that.”
“Really?” She put a hand on her hip and glared at him. “You know what? Outside of this club we’re normal people. Some of us have kids. Some of us are married. A few of us are in college. We’re not bimbos, sluts, or hookers. We’re just trying to earn a living like everyone else.”
Surprised at her vehement tone, Rick held up a hand. “Hold on. I don’t think you’re any of those things. My surprise at you having a son had nothing to do with what you do for a living. I didn’t expect it, that’s all.” He paused, not shying away from her direct gaze. “I respect what you do. When my brother and I were young my parents didn’t have a lot of money. When my mom lost her job at the high school she started waiting tables at a diner in town. She told me it was the hardest work she ever did, and boy did she have some stories to tell about her customers. Knowing what she put up with in a small town restaurant, I can only imagine the amount of shit you have to deal with here.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” The tightness around her mouth relaxed and a wry smile played on her lips. “I could tell you some stories you wouldn’t believe.”
“I’d like to hear them.” He glanced at her left hand and, not seeing a wedding ring, he went for it. “Maybe we could get coffee sometime?”
Her eyes widened a fraction, then she shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Are you married?” he asked, choking back a hard lump of disappointment.
“No. It…it’s that I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out with one of my customers.”
“It’s just coffee,” he said, hoping to change her mind. “To be honest. Most of my free time is spent with my teammates and all we talk about is baseball. I’d like to hear your war stories.”
“I don’t know.” She lifted her hand and brushed her hair over her shoulder. A blue earring dangled from her earlobe. “Can I think about it?”
Encouraged that she hadn’t definitively shot him down, he nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll be going home for Thanksgiving, but I’ll call you when I get back.”
“You don’t know my number.” The corners of her mouth tilted upward. “But give me yours and I’ll call you after Thanksgiving.”
“Will you? Or is this a polite way of brushing me off?”
She let out a soft laugh. “Yes. I’ll call you. I don’t have my phone on me but I have a good memory. If you tell me what it is I’ll remember it.”
It wasn’t until he was sitting in his SUV with Trey that Rick recalled the glimpse he’d gotten of Amy’s earring. A sapphire teardrop. At the time he’d been too focused on asking her out for it to register that he’d recently seen one exactly like it on the blonde at Logan-Johnson. The woman who had bought black licorice for her son. The woman who had denied ever meeting him.
Son of a bitch.
5
Thanksgiving at the O’Briens’ house was a boisterous affair. In the Victorian home that Patrick and Lucia O’Brien had lived in since Jade was a toddler, there was no shortage of laughter and good-natured teasing, especially between Jade and her siblings, Nora and Neal.
After her father died and her mother had remarried soon after, Amy had spent a great deal of time at the O’Brien home. Sensitive to her loss, Patrick and Lucia had welcomed her with open arms and made her feel like she was a member of their family. The worst part of being sent to Barstow to live with her aunt had been leaving the O’Briens behind.
As warm and caring as ever, Patrick and Lucia had welcomed her back to the city with open arms and had been thrilled to meet Danny. At first Danny was shy around them, but after five months he’d learned to trust them and loved it when Lucia looked after him on the evenings that Amy worked at Stylus.
At the moment, Danny was playing a rousing video game with Neal in the living
room. Patrick, Lucia, and Nora lingered over pumpkin pie in the formal dining room discussing Nora’s plans for graduate school, while Amy helped Jade clean up the kitchen.
“Let’s take a break while the roasting pan soaks,” Jade said. “I’ll pour us some coffee.”
Amy opened the refrigerator and looked for a spot for the container of stuffing left over from dinner. “I’m dying for a piece of your mom’s bizcocho.” She slid the container into an open spot on the shelf then closed the door.
“You know it’s just sponge cake, right?”
“It’s better than sponge cake, and I’m going to ask her for the recipe.” She moved to the small island in the middle of the kitchen and cut two pieces of bizcocho while Jade poured the coffee.
Several minutes later, they were sitting at the table near a large picture window that looked out on the backyard. Outside, under a string of festive white lights, Shalimar, Lucia’s beloved Siamese cat, was curled up on a cushioned patio chair.
Jade peered at Amy over the rim of her coffee cup. “Are you interested in doing Black Friday with me tomorrow?”
Swallowing the last bite of her bizcocho, Amy shook her head. “Thanks, but even if I was interested in fighting the crowds, I promised Danny I’d take him to the Exploratorium tomorrow.”
“He’ll love that.” Jade set her cup on the table. “You’ve never said much about Danny’s father. Why is that?”
Amy shifted uncomfortably in her chair. It made sense that Jade would be curious about Danny’s father, but until now she hadn’t broached the subject. “It’s hard to talk about him. Our relationship was short-lived,” she said. “I’m not sure where he is, or what he’s doing now.”
Compassion filled Jade’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“Thank you.” Amy averted her gaze and hoped Jade wouldn’t ask any more questions. The last thing she wanted to admit was that Danny’s father was a random guy she’d hooked up with at a party. They’d both had a lot of beer and despite the worldly façade she’d adopted to hide her loneliness and insecurity, what she’d most wanted that night was comfort. From anyone.
Playing for Keeps (Feeling the Heat Book 6) Page 6
