by Amy Noelle
“I couldn’t. Once upon a time that was my business, but things are different now.”
“Yeah, I suppose they are.” She was quiet while the waiter placed our food in front of us. “I don’t envy you this job, but I have to admit it’s fun as hell to watch you two move your chess pieces.”
I glared at her. “We’re not playing a game.”
“Oh, I wonder about that.” She smiled. “Have you two talked about your breakup?”
“No. We’ve skirted the issue so far, and I hope to keep it that way.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Honey, if you think you can get away with that, you don’t know him or your readers very well. Brad’s not going to let it go. He’s tenacious. And nobody’s going to want to read a book written by an ex that doesn’t address the relationship that pretty much defined the man as we know him.”
Damn her for being right. “I know that, and it will be addressed, it’s just that there’s not much to say.”
She laughed again. “Sure.”
I was done talking about it. “So are you going to tell me what happened in Palm Springs that he didn’t want you to tell me?”
“And betray his trust? Who do you think I am?” She chewed a bite of her salad, looking thoughtful. “Actually, I’ll tell you, if you promise not to put it in the book.”
I pursed my lips. “Why would you tell me, then?”
“Because I’m kind of annoyed at him, for reasons that I’ll explain after. Do I have your word?”
Why not? “Sure.”
“We were at a resort in Palm Springs during the winter, just getting pampered, relaxing, and screwing.” God, she was blunt. Were she talking about anybody other than my ex, I would love hearing it. “I put on some easy-listening station, and we were starting the dance, you know, undressing, building the anticipation.”
I was going to hurl but I had to know. “Yeah?”
“Out of the blue, he said he couldn’t and snapped off the radio and left the room.”
“Did he ever tell you why?”
“He said it was the song, but that was all he’d tell me.”
“What song was it?”
Her sharp blue eyes bore into me. “Some song by Alicia Keys.”
I couldn’t help it. I winced, and she nodded.
“Yeah, I knew it,” she said.
I still couldn’t listen to that song to this day. I couldn’t listen to Alicia at all, really, which sucked, because I still loved her. “It was our song.”
“And five years later he couldn’t get it up for me when reminded of you. Says a lot, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t want to think about it. “So why did you tell me? What has he done to annoy you?”
She smiled. “Besides going out with the bimbo to hurt you?”
“Yeah, besides that. Are you sure you’re not jealous?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. I just hate that I’ll be linked with her in the women-Bradley-Reynolds-has-hooked-up-with list. She’s not quality.”
I giggled. “I do like you.”
“I like you, too! I was worried we’d hate each other and I’d refuse to talk to you and you’d paint me as an evil whore in your book, but I think we’re all good.”
“I’m definitely not going to paint you as an evil whore.”
“Good. And I’m definitely not going to sleep with Brad tonight when I see him.”
I dropped my fork and stared at her while she smiled at me. “What?”
She took my hand and squeezed it. “Brad asked me to go out with him tonight, and that tends to be code for dinner followed by a fuck.” Yeah, no more food for me. I pushed my plate away. “Clearly, he’s trying to get back at you for your date with Lance, even though my guess is you’re not planning on sleeping with his teammate.”
“Of course not! Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—it would complicate an already fucked-up situation. What does he think sleeping with some model and then you is going to accomplish?”
“He’s a man. A stupid, jealous man dealing with a lot of unresolved feelings. Tell me, how would you have felt on Monday night if you knew he was out with one of your friends?”
Shittier than I felt today, probably. “Bad. But I’m not going out with Lance to date him. I’m going to talk to him about Brad and baseball.”
“But does Brad know that?”
“He should.”
“He’s a man, darling. They rarely know what they should.” She smiled. “Don’t you worry, though. I intend to rip him a new one for thinking he can use me to get to you. I’m nobody’s second choice.”
“Clearly not. He chose you.”
“He’d rather be with you, Dani.”
Oh sure, when he could be with People’s Most Beautiful Woman in the World. “I really doubt that.”
“We’ll have to see, won’t we? Meanwhile, what are you wearing tonight?”
The subject change had me reeling. “Uh, I’m going to the game first, so something comfortable and casual.”
She shook her head and reached for her purse. “Oh no, that won’t do. Brad needs to learn a lesson. We’re going shopping.”
Chapter 10
My impromptu shopping trip ensured I didn’t get to the game in time, not that I was going to watch baseball in a sexy green silk dress anyway. I don’t know how she did it, but Pam convinced me that I needed to look, in her words, epically sexy, and she dragged me to some high-end boutique. After much hemming and hawing, we’d found a dress we’d both agreed on, and somehow or other she’d gotten the price knocked down from an arm and leg to just an arm. She’d tried to pay for it, but I refused. I wasn’t destitute and I wasn’t taking charity from her, even if we were on our way toward becoming friends.
I had let her pay for the spa visit, though, because she had an account there and wouldn’t hear a word of protest from me. Besides, I’d never been primped like that in all my life, and I had to admit I felt more beautiful than ever when they finished my massage, manicure, pedicure, makeup, and hair. Pam had looked devastating, which was a bit upsetting since she was going out with Brad, but she’d just smiled and said she would torture him and have fun doing it. I wasn’t sure I felt good about him lusting after her all night, but since she was going to shut him down, I guessed it was okay.
Later, I stood outside the locker room, waiting for Lance to emerge and hoping like hell we got out of there before Brad did. The Dodgers had lost today—they were starting the season 2-1, which wasn’t bad, but I knew Brad would be pissy about the loss. I didn’t want to watch him head off to his date either.
“Dani . . . wow!” Lance came out of the locker room looking sharp in a black suit and a white shirt and blue tie. He let out a low wolf whistle. “You look great.”
“Thanks, I—”
“Green, is that any way to greet a lady?”
Shit. Brad stood in the doorway and somehow managed to look better in jeans and a T-shirt than Lance did in his suit. He stared at me as he addressed his teammate. “She’s stunning.” He stepped toward me, and I had nowhere to go when I backed into the wall behind me. I felt like I was drowning in his green gaze. “You’ve never looked better, Red.”
“Uh, thanks,” I squeaked out, sounding as flustered as I felt having him stand that close to me.
Lance cleared his throat behind us, and Brad backed away. “You two have a good time tonight.” His voice was flat, and the way he looked at me said he hoped we’d do anything but. At least he was playing nice.
“We will.” Lance appeared at my side and put his arm around my waist. Brad’s hands clenched before he shoved them in his pockets and turned away. I edged away from Lance’s touch and watched as Brad disappeared down the hallway. “So are you ready to go?”
No. But I was here, and I was going. “Sure.”
He led me to his car and helped me in. “So did you see any of the game?” he asked as we drove to the restaurant.
“No, my day ended up being busier than I planned
.”
“Good thing, since we lost, four to nothing, and your subject had an awful game.”
“He did?”
“He struck out twice and had an error. You don’t have to put that in the book, right?” He laughed, and I forced myself to smile. “Maybe his mind was elsewhere, huh?”
“Could be.” I didn’t want to think about where his mind might have wandered. “How’d you do?”
“A single, and I got hit by a fastball to the thigh, so don’t laugh if I limp a little, okay?”
I smiled for real. “I’ll try not to.”
He pulled up outside a place called Rosa’s, and the valet helped me out of the car. “You like Italian, right? I should have asked.”
“I love Italian,” I assured him. He put his arm around my waist again and I went with it, letting him guide me into the restaurant. After we were seated, we exchanged some small talk until we placed our orders.
“So, Dani, tell me about you. I know you’re an author and that you’re beautiful, but I’d love to know more.”
Yeah, this was definitely feeling like a date. “Not much to tell. I’m a Tampa native. My parents still live there. My brother’s in med school at Florida State, which is where I went. I worked for the paper in Jacksonville for a while before my first book got picked up, and here I am.”
“You went to Florida State? Is that how you know Brad?”
Crap. I’d forgotten that not everybody knew about us. “Yeah.”
“So that’s why he picked you. And why he’s so possessive of you.” Lance sat back and shook his head. “I thought he was going to take my head off when I asked you out.”
I sighed. “We have a complex history, but he had no right to dictate what I do.” Time to steer the conversation back to where I wanted it to go. “How long have you known Brad?”
“We were in Triple A together, although he came up a lot faster than I did.” He shook his head. “He shone from the first day, but he was different then.”
“Different how?” I itched to take out my notebook, but that might be a little rude. I’d have to depend on the good memory I’d been blessed with. Well, blessed and cursed, depending on what the memory was.
“Is this a date or an interview?” He was smiling and didn’t sound annoyed, thankfully.
“Uh, both?” I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Actually, I don’t think it’s a good idea if I date anyone associated with the team right now. It’s . . .”
“Complicated,” he finished for me. “I get it. I’m not blind. That little moment between the two of you before we left was pretty heated.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “That was just . . . I don’t know.”
“Complicated,” he said again. “All right, Dani, even though I’ve lost yet another woman to Brad, I’ll cooperate.”
“I’m not with Brad. I just don’t think I should date one of his teammates. It’s a conflict of interest.”
“I get it.” He smiled. “No hard feelings, really. But back to your question, about how he used to be different. He was quiet. He didn’t really interact with anybody off the field. He came to work every day, did his thing, and left. He never went out with us, and he just seemed removed from it all.”
That didn’t sound anything like the Brad I knew in the past or present. “What changed?”
“I don’t know. One day, he just decided to go out with us.” He paused and grimaced. “How much do you want to hear?”
Here we go again. “I’m not here for some whitewashed version just so my delicate feelings will be spared. I’m fine. Brad and I have been over for a long, long time.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” he said quietly. “Okay, then. Well, we went to the bar, and within minutes there were women all over him.” Naturally. “You know there are girls who just love to hook up with baseball players.”
“Baseball Annies, I’ve heard the term.” And dealt with the college versions of the bitches when I was with Brad.
“Right. Well, there was one—Mary—who drove us all crazy, but she rarely put out.” He shrugged when I shot him a look. “You asked. Anyway, one word from Brad, and they were out of there.” Of course he’d get the unattainable one. “The next night, he went home with a different one, which pissed off Mary, let me tell you. Brad just ignored her when she went off on him. He didn’t bat an eyelash when she hooked up with another teammate either.”
From the look on his face, I had a feeling I knew who that teammate was. “You?”
“What can I say? She was hot.” He grinned.
“You guys are incorrigible. I don’t know why any self-respecting girl would throw herself at you guys, just because you play baseball.”
“She was trying to get his attention. I didn’t mind helping. And after all, look at you and me right now.”
Oh, hell no. “Are you comparing me to her? Sorry, buddy, but I was never going to sleep with you.” I was about to walk out of there, and he must have sensed it because he held up his hands in surrender.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, and I would never presume you were going to sleep with me to make Brad jealous.”
“You just wish I was,” I shot back.
“Well, yeah, I mean, have you seen you? Fiery red hair, light blue eyes, killer body?” I glared at him and he shrugged. “But I am sorry. I didn’t mean you were just out to land a baseball player. I was just letting you know that if you wanted to use one of us, I’m first in line. Please, don’t leave.”
“Are the lot of you manwhores, or just you and Brad?”
He laughed, unconcerned that I’d just called him a whore. “Some of us like to have a little fun. There’s nothing wrong with that. Others are happily married. Others are married and still have fun. I don’t judge.”
“Well, you should. Especially the cheaters.”
He shrugged. “It’s the lifestyle. The wives and girlfriends—they know what they’re getting and most turn a blind eye to it, as long as it doesn’t come too close to home. Cody has a girlfriend in just about every city we go to.”
“And you?”
“I have girls I can call, but nobody I’m committed to, and they know it.”
“You and Brad are two peas in a pod.” And, of course, I was out with the not-nearly-as-good-looking pea. Lucky me.
“You’d think so, but not really. Brad’s more selective. I guess when you’ve had the best, present company included, you don’t like to settle.”
Brad had certainly had had the best, and I wasn’t talking about me. “Still, you hit clubs and bars together?”
“Sometimes. Brad puts baseball first, so he doesn’t go out as often as some of us, and when he does, it’s usually not for long.” Probably because he finds someone and takes her home. “More often than not, he goes back to his room alone.” Okay, maybe not. Lance sipped his beer. “And he stopped doing anything with us these past few months.”
“Did he?” Well, I guess when you have Pamela Baxter to hook up with, why mess with easy bar girls?
“I figured he was just banging Pam, but he didn’t go out in Glendale either, and she wasn’t there.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s finally pussied out.”
“You’re a real charmer, you know that?”
He grinned and a dimple appeared in his right cheek. “I can be charming. I just figured it was wasted on you and you’d want me to be real. Want me to turn it on?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.” I just wanted to get through this and go back to my hotel and forget it ever happened. Lance was a moron.
“Anyway, it wasn’t until you showed up that he started hooking up again, as far as I know.” He grinned at me. “Wonder why that is?”
Because he was punishing me for . . . I still didn’t know what. “I don’t really care what he does.” It was a bald-faced lie, as right now I was wondering if Pam was going to change her mind and go to bed with him anyway. I didn’t think she would, but I knew how easy it was to forget oneself around Bradley Reynolds
.
“If you say so,” he said. “Any other information you’d like to pump me for, since you don’t want to pump me in a much more interesting way?”
I might as well get something from this date. “What’s Brad like as a teammate?”
Lance smirked. “He’s the best. He’s the first one in and the last one out. He expects the best from all of us, and he’ll call out someone he sees loafing.” He shrugged. “He gets to, because he works hard and everybody knows it. He’s the captain, the leader, and everybody listens to him.”
“Do you think he expects more out of himself than he does out of you?”
He laughed. “Hell yeah. He’s a perfectionist. You just know he’s pissed right now because he had such a shitty day. He’s probably at home studying game tape as we speak.”
No, he most certainly wasn’t. “Is that what you do when you have a shitty game?”
“Nah. I just put it out of my mind, chill in front of the TV, or enjoy the company of a pretty girl. He takes shit to heart way more than I do.”
“You’re pretty laid back,” I said, and he nodded. “Do you two ever butt heads?”
“Other than over you?”
I sighed.
“Nah,” he said. “It’s not worth it. If Brad’s pissed at my play, I’ll let him yell it out and go on with my life. He treats every game like the playoffs, whereas I know we have plenty of them left and one loss isn’t going to kill us.”
“One hundred and sixty-one more to go,” I murmured.
“Exactly. But Brad always wants to be better. He’ll be in the Hall of Fame one day because that’s what he wants. He’s got the drive and the talent.”
“Do you like him?” I asked, because I honestly wasn’t sure.
“Depends on the day. Today? Not so much, because the beautiful woman sitting across from me is all about him. When he hits a grand slam on opening day? I like him lots. He’s a teammate on the field and a competitor off the field, and I wouldn’t beat him either place. It could give a guy a complex, if the guy could be bothered.”
“So you’re jealous.”
“Sometimes. Other times I’m glad the spotlight doesn’t shine so bright on me. Even if he wanted to have a girl in every city, he couldn’t, because his picture gets splashed around so much. Nobody knows what, or who, I do.” He took out his phone and it looked like he was sending a text.
