She caught his glance and smiled. “What will you be doing at the youth club?”
“Helping the kids to become more active,” he said as they stopped at the curb and Amy hit the walk button on the street light. The iconic Transamerica Pyramid loomed to their right, its majestic and brightly lit spire piercing the dark sky. Tilting his head, he admired the unique skyscraper.
“What made you decide to volunteer?” The light changed and they, along with a young couple who were holding hands, stepped off the curb and crossed the street.
“Two reasons. I wanted something productive to do in the off-season, and I like kids. Plus, with my work-out schedule, I needed something flexible. Volunteering seemed like a perfect fit.”
“How often do you work out?”
“Anywhere from four to five hours six days a week. Depending on what part of my body I’m targeting that day.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of working out.”
He chuckled at the awe in her voice. To most people his workout regimen probably sounded excessive, but it was the norm for professional athletes. Some even spent more time training than he did. “I need to be in shape for spring training. When the season starts I dial it back, but I work out all year long.”
“I feel like such a slacker. The extent of my exercise regimen is waiting tables on Friday and Saturday nights at Stylus.”
“I’m sure you rack up a few miles with all that walking around.”
“And I do it in thigh-high boots with four-inch heels.” Her glowing smile nearly took his breath away. “It’s harder than it looks.”
Thirty minutes later, double-parked in front of the Victorian house where Amy rented an apartment, Rick shifted the transmission into park and set the parking brake. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
She waved her hand. “I appreciate the offer but it’s not that far.” A smile softened her expression. “Thank you for the coffee. And the pancakes.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, then hesitated. Just because she’d agreed to a date tonight, didn’t mean she’d agree to another one. But if he wanted to see her again—and he did—he’d have to man up and face the possibility of rejection. “Do you...would you like to do this again?”
Tilting her head, she arched one eyebrow and smiled. “Coffee?”
“How about dinner? Or if you want to work up to dinner, we can do lunch.”
She thought about it long enough for him to worry she’d tell him she didn’t have the time to date, or something equally ego punishing.
“I…I’d like that,” she finally said.
Rick swallowed a huge sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure why she’d said yes, but he was damn happy she had. “Great,” he said. “I’ll call you in a few days.”
On Wednesday, Rick drove to Blaze Field, parked in the underground parking garage reserved for players and employees, and then headed for the clubhouse. The majority of the players and coaches didn’t live in the Bay Area during the off-season, but the organization allowed those that did unrestricted use of the team’s state-of-the-art gym during the day. And with a few hours to kill before he had to be at the youth club, there was plenty of time to get a workout in.
He hadn’t seen Trey’s car in the parking garage so he was surprised to find Trey in the clubhouse getting dressed. Judging by his still-damp hair, he’d finished a workout and had already showered. They hadn’t spoken since Trey had stormed out of Adam’s party, but there was no animosity in Trey’s gaze as Rick moved to stand in front of his cubby which was next to Trey’s. He set his gym bag on the slatted wooden bench and then shrugged out of his sports coat.
“Good workout?” Rick asked as he hung the coat on a hanger inside his cubbyhole.
“Just cardio.” Trey buttoned his shirt and looked up. “I met with Adam yesterday.”
“Glad to see you’re still in one piece.”
Trey’s mouth twitched with amusement. “I apologized for my behavior at the party.”
“To just him?”
“Jade wasn’t there.”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t apologize when you see her again.”
“I know. I was way out of line.” Trey sat on the bench and reached for his socks. “And Adam was right. She’s done everything he’s ever asked to help me. Including one thing I’m not so proud of. She hates me and I don’t blame her.”
Remembering the concern in Jade’s eyes the day of Trey’s outburst in the conference room, Rick shook his head. “I don’t think she hates you.”
Trey snorted and pulled on one sock, then the other. “Then, my friend, you haven’t been paying attention.”
“An apology would go a long way in smoothing things over,” Rick said, bending to unzip the gym bag. He pulled out his workout gear and a full bottle of Gatorade and set them on the bench.
“It might. But I doubt it.”
“You’ll never know unless you try.”
“No offense, but when it comes to Jade, I don’t need a pep talk, I need a do-over.”
“Sorry.” Rick shot him a rueful grin. “Can’t help you there.”
Once Trey had finished dressing and Rick was ready to hit the gym, Trey tossed his towel into a nearby hamper. “I talked to Adam about starting a foundation. He liked the idea and he’s going to set up a meeting before the end of the year to discuss it. Are you still interested?”
Rick nodded. “I like the idea of offering scholarships to low-income students.”
“How about providing more than money? What about offering support and coaching? Or actually helping kids apply for other scholarships, colleges, and financial aid? I mean, we can’t give scholarships to everyone, but we can help them help themselves.”
“Good idea, but wouldn’t that require a staff?”
“Either staff or volunteers, I assume. I did an online search and there are a couple of foundations based in the Bay Area that offer scholarships and partial tuition for lower-income families. I contacted the operations manager of one of them and he agreed to meet with me on Friday morning. I figured it would help to be informed.”
The air of determination in Trey’s demeanor was contagious. “Want some company?”
“Yeah.” Trey nodded. “You can take notes. My handwriting is shit.”
Rick snorted and reached for the Gatorade bottle. “Take your own fucking notes. I’m not your secretary.”
At two-fifteen, Rick had checked in with the staff director at the Youth Club, changed into his volunteer T-shirt, and was sitting at a table in the community room when the squeak of rubber soles on linoleum filled the room. He looked up from the activity notes he’d made on his notepad to see four kids—two boys and two girls—running toward him at breakneck speed. One of them was Amy’s son.
“Mr. Taylor!” Danny screeched to a halt in front of him with a huge smile on his face. “What are you doing here? This is so cool.”
Rick leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I’m volunteering until spring training starts in February.”
“Are you going to show us how to play baseball?” A stout boy with shaggy brown hair and a chipped front tooth asked, his eyes wide with excitement.
“I’ll go over the fundamentals with anyone interested, but my main goal is to get everyone moving for at least an hour a day.”
“Are you gonna to make us run laps?” the same boy asked.
“No. Running laps is boring. I was thinking something more fun. Like kickball or maybe Frisbee.”
“My dog Dusty can catch a Frisbee.” A slender girl with big brown eyes interjected. “He loves it so much he doesn’t want to stop. Even when he gets tired.”
“Man, I wish I had a dog,” Danny said, looking at the girl with envy. “I’d play with him all the time. Do you have a dog, Mr. Taylor?”
“No. I’m gone a lot during baseball season. I don’t think it would be fair to leave a dog alone for so long.”
“What about a hamster? If you have a big water bottle and enough food in the c
age, I bet you could leave a hamster alone for a week and he’d be okay.”
“I’m not sure I’d want to take that chance, Danny.”
“Yeah. What if you came home and he was belly up?” Danny’s expression sobered. “That would be sad. And then you’d be a hamster killer. That’s not good.”
Rick smothered a laugh. “I agree.”
“What about a snake?” The second girl, a strawberry-blonde with freckles covering her cheeks and nose, asked.
“No.” Rick shook his head vehemently. “No snakes.”
“That’s what my mom said when I asked her if I could have a snake instead of a puppy,” Danny said as he shrugged off his backpack. “She hates snakes.”
“Can’t say I blame her,” Rick replied, pleased to discover one more thing about Amy. Hopefully after their next date, he’d know even more.
8
A little over a week after her coffee date with Rick, Amy put the finishing touches on her appearance while Jade, who sat cross-legged on the faded quilt covering the bed, kept her company.
“Where are you and Rick going?” She looked up from methodically braiding the long ponytail that hung over her shoulder.
“I don’t know. He said it was a surprise,” Amy said, as she ran a brush through her hair. “But he did say to dress warm so I assume at some point we’ll be outside.”
“What time should I pick Danny up from the birthday party?”
“The invitation said it’ll be over at three.” Amy set the brush on the dresser, then quickly spritzed on a hair product that prevented the dreaded frizz. “Thanks for picking him up for me.”
“I’m happy to do it. I love that kid. Speaking of Danny, does he know you’re going on a date with Rick?”
“No. All he could talk about was Rick volunteering at the youth club this past week, but since I don’t know if Rick and I will go out again after today, I thought it best not to tell him. I wouldn’t want him to be disappointed.”
“And what if you do?” Jade tied an elastic band around the end of her braid and tossed it over her shoulder. “Go out with him again, I mean.”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
“Ah-ha!” Jade pointed at her with a gleeful expression on her face. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“I knew that whole I’m-never-getting-involved-with-a-man-again mantra you’ve been spouting since you got back is a crock of shit.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Oh, yes it is. If you really meant it, you wouldn’t have had coffee with Rick or agreed to go out with him today. Admit it, there’s a part of you that’s hoping he isn’t like your stepfather or any other jerk you’ve ever met. And another thing, not all men are assholes. Look at my dad. And yours. Nice guys do exist. They may be a rare species, but they’re out there.”
“That’s optimistic of you considering your run-ins with Trey and Mr. Dick Pic.”
Jade grimaced. “Okay, I confess my luck hasn’t been so hot in the men department either, but the thing about luck is that it can change in an instant. You never know, I could meet the guy of my dreams tomorrow.”
“Or maybe you’ve already met him and you don’t know it yet.”
“Yeah,” she said with a snorting laugh. “Right. The ass clowns I’ve met are the stuff of nightmares, not dreams.”
Not long after Jade had returned to her apartment upstairs, Amy’s misgivings resurfaced with a vengeance and she paced the small living room waiting for Rick to arrive. Starting something with Rick wasn’t a good idea. Especially when nothing could come of it. For months she’d been hyper-focused on one thing and had saved every dime she could spare to see her plan to fruition. She and Danny needed a fresh start far away from the notoriety she’d left behind in Barstow. Yes, San Francisco was a long way from Barstow, but there were people there that knew she’d grown up in the city; she wouldn’t put it past them to figure out she was here and try to ruin her life a second time. She could handle it, but Danny couldn’t, nor did she want him to even try.
By the time Rick knocked on the door at eleven-thirty, she had convinced herself that the best course of action was to come up with a plausible excuse and cancel the date. If she spent more time with him she might grow to like him even more than she did now and that would make it harder to leave. But when she opened the door and saw him standing on her doorstep with a small bouquet of colorful flowers in hand, she couldn’t do it. No man had ever given her flowers before. How could she cancel on him after such a sweet gesture?
Now they sat across from each other in a scarred wooden booth at the St. Francis Fountain diner several blocks from her apartment. Other than the expansion of the dining area, the retro diner hadn’t changed much since her last visit over ten years ago. With its glass display case filled with all sorts of old-school candy, to the soda fountain behind the counter, the St. Francis conjured up a host of wonderful memories of the many times she and her father had stopped by on weekends for ice cream or a milkshake.
“Have you been here before?” she asked.
“Trey turned me on to it. We’ve had breakfast here a few times.”
“They make the best milkshakes in the city.” Amy grinned. “Or they used to. My dad and I came here often.”
“Did you live around here?”
She nodded. “I grew up here in the Mission District. It’s a lot different now.”
“How so?”
“It’s undergone quite a bit of gentrification. Or as Jade says, ‘it’s gone hipster.’”
The corners of Rick’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. Laughter looked good on him. Actually, everything looked good on him. The light stubble on his jaw gave him a dark, sexy appeal that made every nerve in her body tingle. And the hunter green sweater he wore brought out the golden flecks in his eyes she hadn’t noticed before. He was the hottest guy she’d ever seen, yet he didn’t seem to know it. Or if he did, he didn’t flaunt it.
He picked up his glass of ice water and took a sip. “I suppose with all the tech companies in the vicinity that’s to be expected. There’s a guy who lives in my building that works for Twitter.”
“Do you have a Twitter account?”
“Yes, it’s part of the social media platform Logan-Johnson set up for me. I don’t tweet much though.” He set the glass on the table. “My life is kind of boring.”
“I doubt your fans would believe that,” she said with a smile.
“What about you?” he asked. “Do you do all that social media stuff?”
“No way. I like my privacy.”
“I get it. My life isn’t as private as it used to be now that I’m back on the team.” His eyes shifted to focus on something behind her. “We’ve only been here twenty minutes and a couple at the booth in the back corner already took a picture of me with their phones.”
Apprehension pinged in Amy’s chest. Although curious, she didn’t turn around to look at the couple. She hadn’t done anything wrong. No charges had ever been filed against her. But a current picture of her in San Francisco wasn’t something she wanted floating around the internet. “Does it bother you?” she asked.
“It comes with the territory, and as long as the fans are respectful, I don’t mind it too much.”
“That’s good.” She forced a smile and discreetly scanned the area between their booth and the entrance. The tables and the counter area were filled with customers, but no one seemed to be paying her or Rick any attention. She breathed a sigh of relief, but then her heart lurched as her eyes met the brittle gaze of the last person in the world she had ever wanted to see again.
The seconds ticked by like hours and the animated chatter in the room faded to a dull rumble as Amy stared at her mother who was sitting alone at a table near the window. How long had she been there? And how long had she been watching her? For a moment Amy thought maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her, but she quickly realized this wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Other than a few mo
re wrinkles, her mother looked much the same as she had ten years ago. Her ash blonde hair was still stylishly cut, and her makeup was still skillfully applied to accentuate her features. Her father had always said she looked like her mother, and when she was a little girl she’d been thrilled to be compared to someone so beautiful. Now she loathed the fact that she bore any resemblance at all to the woman who’d treated her so callously.
Just then their server arrived with their order, blocking her view. After he left her and Rick to their meal, Amy dared another glance toward the window table. To her relief, her mother’s attention had turned to the menu she held in her hands.
During the next fifteen minutes, Amy managed to choke down what was probably a delicious cheeseburger and made sure to keep her attention singularly focused on Rick, who didn’t seem to notice she’d turned into a bundle of nerves. Although how he couldn’t notice was beyond her. She laughed at something he said and inwardly cringed at how phony she sounded.
“You don’t get seasick, do you?” he said after he’d finished the last bite of his BLT.
“No. But I haven’t been on a boat in years so anything’s possible.” She picked up a French fry and then dropped it on her plate. She couldn’t eat one more bite. Not when she’d lost her appetite even before her lunch had arrived. “Why?”
“Just checking.” A sly grin curved his mouth. “I have something special planned after lunch.”
“Can we go right now?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. She hoped she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. All she wanted to do was get away from her mother. Being in the same room with the woman brought up all sorts of awful memories.
“Sure.” Rick cocked his head, concern etched on his face. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
“I’m fine. Why don’t you pay the check while I use the restroom,” she suggested, then slipped out of the booth.
Thankfully, she was alone in the ladies’ room. After taking care of business in the stall, Amy turned on the faucet. Her hands trembled beneath the flowing water. Of all the reactions she thought she might have to seeing her mother again, this hadn’t been one of them. But maybe shaking like a leaf was a natural reaction to laying eyes on the woman who was supposed to love and nurture her, but who’d turned on her in the most horrific way. The only thing that might have rattled her more was to come face to face with her stepfather.
Playing for Keeps (Feeling the Heat Book 6) Page 10
