Playing the Game: Playing the Game Duet Book 1

by Gina Drayer

  I spent the entire subway ride trying to put Cooper out of my mind. I stopped by the store on the way home. But even there, I couldn’t get away from the man. In the checkout line, across from my frozen vegetarian lasagna, I saw his face staring back at me from the cover of a tabloid magazine.

  New York’s Favorite Bad Boy Cooper Reynolds Out of Control!

  It was a very unflattering photo of him, with his eyes half-closed, one hand raised into a fist. Instead of getting annoyed at the sight of him, a laugh escaped my lips.

  Mercury had to be in retrograde for my world to collide with New York’s “favorite bad boy.”

  People Watching NYC

  Out on the Streets

  Cooper Reynolds, Third Baseman and Greg Korb, Pitcher for New York.

  Seen here leaving Roxie’s Gym. The two players are preparing for next season after a disappointing loss in postseason. There’s still no word as to whether Reynolds will be returning to the team next year or if he’ll be traded like teammate Bryan O’Connors.

  5

  Cooper

  The rhythmic sound of feet pounding the damp pavement was almost hypnotic. The steady thud-thud-thud was the perfect morning soundtrack to clear out all the crap in my head. It brought me back to high school. Coach would give me extra laps before practice, push me a little harder than the rest of the boys because he knew that I needed the challenge.

  I’d been a mediocre student. I passed my classes, but for some reason, most of my teachers seemed determined to make my life a living hell. Their constant disapproval was probably the reason I acted out and became the class clown.

  But my baseball coach had seen something in me that no one else had. He’d encouraged me to push myself and demanded my best. And that kind of unwavering support had saved my life.

  I kept those early lessons close, and whenever something happened to knock me off track, I pushed a little harder.

  That’s why, rain or shine, I was out in Central Park doing the six-mile track. Running was one of the only things that quieted the doubt in the back of my mind and helped me focus. By the time I hit the second mile, everything else fell away.

  But despite a hard run, I was still uneasy about the stupid auction tomorrow. After the last round of contract negotiations fell through, I realized Naomi’s stupid plan was my last hope. Manny was right, the only thing that mattered was renewing the contract. If management wanted me to clean up my act, then something was going to have to change.

  However, Emily was an unexpected wrinkle in that plan. She was so different from the women I usually dated. And maybe that’s the reason I found her intriguing. I had this inexplicable desire to peel back her layers and figure out what made her tick. Not that I was ever going to get that close. The woman may be willing to take my money for a few dates, but she’d been pretty clear that she had no interest in getting to know me at all.

  And that, more than anything else, rubbed me the wrong way. She had no reason to dislike me. If my contract wasn’t on the line, I might even go out of my way to prove to Miss stick-up-her-butt charity chick that she wasn’t immune to my charms.

  God, these next few months were going to suck.

  Too bad there wasn’t time to find someone else. There were thousands of women out there that would happily take her place, and it wouldn’t cost me a dime.

  As I passed Columbus Circle, I veered off the path and headed to the gym. Maybe some lifting would help get my mind off Friday’s event. I sure as hell couldn’t go back to my apartment and just stew all day.

  I’d just started my first set when Greg, one of the team captains, walked in.

  “This is new. You’re not usually here this early,” Greg said, taking the machine to my right.

  “I just needed to burn off some steam,” I said, feeling slightly annoyed at the interruption. I had hit my stride, and now my rhythm was broken. I dropped the weights and grabbed my water.

  “I would say girl trouble, but that’s not really your thing is it?” Greg shook his head and went back to adjusting the weights.

  “Not my thing? What do you mean by that?”

  “The long-term relationship thing. You don’t stick around long enough for there to be girl trouble.” Greg settled into the machine beside me and did a few reps. “So what’s troubling you?”

  Greg and I were friendly, but we weren’t close like some of the guys. We ran in different social circles and besides baseball, but we really didn’t have much in common. This was the first time we’d ever really talked. Greg’s opinion on my dating life shouldn’t bother me—it was true after all, but it still left a sour taste in my mouth.

  “I’m just trying to get a jumpstart on spring training,” I said, changing the subject. “We were so close this year. Next year will be our year. I can feel it.”

  “Absolutely next year,” Greg said, nodding.

  “And after I lead our team to it’s first series victory in fifty years, my number will have to be retired.”

  “Lucky number 36,” Greg said. “Oh no wait, that’s my number.”

  “36 was my number in high school. I wish I still had that jersey. I gave it to a girl I was seeing after I left for college.”

  “Seriously? That’s bad luck,” Greg said, furrowing his eyebrows.

  “Don’t tell me you believe in that stuff.”

  “I can’t believe you don’t,” Greg said. “The first game I pitched a no-hitter, I was wearing a pair of green socks my wife bought me for good luck. I still wear them every time I take the mound.”

  “Trust me, we all know.”

  It always surprised me how many players believed that objects somehow had power over your destiny. I adjusted the weights on the machine, and slowly bent down into a squat.

  “Did you hear that O’Connor got traded to Boston?”

  “He’s a good kid. I’m sorry we’re losing him.”

  O’Connor’s stats were down due to an early-season injury. But it was just as likely that management was cleaning house. I was probably next on their list.

  “It was a good trade. His wife is from that area. But that’s the life.” Greg let out a long breath and sat up on the bench. “I just hope I don’t have to make a change anytime soon. My wife is determined to raise a little New Yorker.”

  “How’s that going?”

  Greg’s wife was seven months pregnant. It was weird that so many of my teammates were fathers. It was hard to imagine what it would be like to come home to a family after being on the road. Sure, Greg owned an amazing house, and his wife was sexy and fun to be around, but would it really last. For every guy in the majors that was married, there were at least four that were divorced. I personally didn’t like those odds.

  “Everything’s great. Although, Joni and I can’t agree on a name,” Greg said. “I think we might have to call him Baby Burrito for the rest of his life.”

  I moved to the pull-up bar, and Greg shifted to the next machine. It was actually nice to have the company. It kept my mind off my current problems. Maybe I should start coming to the gym early every day.

  “So, how’s it going with you?” asked Greg. He tried to sound casual, but there was genuine curiosity in his voice. “Have you signed a new contract yet, or are you still in negotiations?”

  Just when I was starting to relax.

  “They’re making me jump through hoops like a damn circus dog.”

  “That bad?”

  “I’ll live,” I said, not wanting to give anything away.

  As frustrated as I was, I couldn’t talk about the plan. To stave off further discussion, I pulled myself up a few inches off the ground and held it, enjoying the burn in my muscles. As I continued doing pull-ups, I remembered that Joni was involved in that charity auction. I dropped to the mat and grabbed my towel.

  “Hey, what do you know about the auction that’s happening this weekend?”

  “I know I have to be there,” Greg said, letting the weights fall back into place with a loud c
lunk. “Joni’s in charge this year. She’s put a lot of work into it. You should come. A lot of the team will be there.”

  “Think so?” I waited for a heartbeat, pretending to mull it over. “Maybe you’re right. I could use a little good press. Anything I should know?”

  “Don’t drink before you get there,” Greg said. “It’s a black-tie event. You can’t show up drunk, or they’ll make you leave.”

  Really? That’s what my teammates thought of me. Although, getting smashed before the event might make the whole night more palatable. But the media and management were watching every move I made. Drinking. Just one more thing I wasn’t allowed to do.

  My frustration was back in full force. I grabbed my water and started towards the locker room. “Tell Joni I’ll be there with my checkbook open. My accountant tells me I need the tax write off.”

  “She’ll be happy to take your money,” Greg said with a chuckle.

  “That seems to be going around. I’ll see you Friday.”

  6

  Emily

  As the time crawled closer to the evening, my nerves were getting the better of me. I hadn’t been able to eat all day. And as I got ready, I picked up the phone twice, determined to call the whole thing off. I hadn’t taken the money yet so I could back out, right?

  Even the weather seemed to reflect my mood. It was pouring down rain, the sound beating on the window, almost as if it were discouraging me from going out. A loud, rather sensible voice inside my head was telling me to stay home and enjoy a nice cuppa of tea.

  But then I thought about the family we’d had to refer to another shelter across town and steeled my resolve. Nerves be damned. This was for them.

  Tony, one of my oldest friends, agreed to escort me to the event. He’d come over bearing a plate of eggplant parmesan his wife had made for dinner, but I’d barely touched it. The thought of eating made my stomach turn.

  “Are you sure those heels are necessary?” Tony asked as he helped me latch the bracelet I’d been struggling with. “Remember the Easter incident.”

  I looked up and caught his close-lipped smile. At that moment, he looked so much like my father warning me to be careful on the rocks. A sudden wave of emotion hit me like a tidal surge, and I had to bite back tears.

  Tony was forty-two, a year older than my father had been when he died. They didn’t look much alike—Tony was heavy-set with a barrel chest and dark, deeply sculpted eyes. My Norwegian-American father had been tall and wiry with pale hair and bright, green eyes. But there was something about Tony that reminded me of Dad. Maybe it was just the general fatherliness that Tony exuded. I’ve shed tears more than once while watching my friend with his three daughters. He had a gruff but caring manner that I’ve grown to love.

  “I have to wear heels with the dress,” I said and lifted up the hem. “If not the dress will drag on the ground. Besides, Easter was an isolated incident. I’m not going to be walking down the stage stairs.” At least, I didn’t think so.

  Tony sighed and shook his head. “Just be careful. And remember to stand up straight,” Tony said. “Act like you own the room and you will.” He stepped back and gave me a once-over. “You clean up good, my dear.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” I said with a wink.

  He’d gone out of his way to look nice tonight. He was wearing what had to be a new suit, complete with a tie and freshly-shined shoes. I’d been reluctant to ask anyone to accompany me to the auction, but I needed moral support.

  Tony was my closest friend and I trusted him implicitly. I wished like hell I could confide in him about the deal I’d made. It was probably better that he didn’t know because knowing him, he’d try to talk me out of it.

  Actually, the fact that he didn’t know might be a good thing. I could use him to help things along. People usually didn’t just come out and bid a hundred thousand dollars on a date with a stranger. But, if someone was bidding against Cooper, it would be natural to increase his bid.

  “Tony, can I ask you a favor?” I picked up my water glass, and instead of drinking it, I held it close to my chest like a shield as I looked my friend in the eye. “Do you think you could put a bid on me? This could be a big fundraiser for the shelter, and I just want to make sure there’s some interest.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get lots of bidders,” Tony said, waving the idea away.

  “I know I’ll raise a lot of money tonight, but...” I bit my lip, my cheeks heating, when I realized how conceded my words sounded. I hesitated, trying to find the right thing to say. I hated not being able to tell Tony the whole truth. A lie of omission was still a lie. “What I mean is that I just want to make sure I raise enough money so that this whole thing is worth it. It would make me feel more comfortable if I knew you were going to place a few bids. That way, any competing bidders will have to pay more. Joni said I might get twenty-five thousand, but I’m hoping for at least thirty, maybe even fifty.”

  Or a hundred.

  “You know I can’t do that. I’d like to help out any way I can, but I don’t have that kind of money.” He scratched his forehead with his large hands. He was such a kind man, and I knew he hated telling me no.

  “Don’t worry about the money. If you actually do win, I’ll back it with my own money.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Not really. I still had some money from my trust, but I was planning on using that to help with the down payment. If Cooper backed out and I won the bid, the money would end up back in my pocket minus the fee for participating in the auction. I’d lose money. But the risk could be worth it.

  “Just bid once, when the bidding stalls to see if we can get it to go higher. I can cover the bid. I promise.” I smiled at Tony, glad he couldn’t read my mind. Then changed the subject. “How’s my makeup? Not too much?”

  “You look stunning,” he said. “I barely recognize you.”

  I wrinkled my nose. I didn’t recognize myself anymore either. “I’ll take that as a compliment. We better get going before I change my mind. Ready?”

  “You’ll need an umbrella,” said Tony. “You don’t want to ruin all your hard work.”

  “My hard work, right.” I rolled my eyes, trying to play off how hard I’d actually tried tonight. I’d even bought a new, lavender lace bra and panty set. Not that anybody else would see my underwear, but still, it made me feel good.

  Hopefully, I looked like a hundred thousand dollars.

  7

  Cooper

  I glanced around the room for what felt like the millionth time, trying not to be too obvious about it. There was still no sign of Emily. The ballroom was packed with New York’s one-percenters. They were out in force with checkbooks in hand, ready to assuage their guilt with one stroke of the pen while downing a thousand dollar a bottle champagne.

  The hypocrisy of the whole thing was almost laughable.

  But at least I wasn’t alone. Several of the guys from the team were there to support Greg’s wife. They were always trying to get me to attend one event or another for charity. This wasn’t really my thing. Other than the Literacy Ball and the baseball camp for military kid I sponsored, I usually steered clear of these black tie events.

  I scanned the room again but didn’t see Emily anywhere. I had mixed feelings about her absence. If she didn’t show, it would mean that our deal was off. I had done my part showing up, but if she was too scared to go through it, then the whole thing would be over even before it started.

  But if she doesn’t show, I’d probably never see her again. The thought didn’t sit well with me. I really wanted to see her again—just one more time.

  After several more minutes went by, I got tired of waiting by the entrance and decided to join the guys. I unwrapped a fresh stick of gum, straightened my hat, and made my way across the ballroom. If nothing else, my attendance here—sober and on my best behavior—would get back to our manager.

  “Coop. You look like the fucking Penguin from Batm
an in that stupid ass hat,” Ramon said, one corner of his mouth raised into a half-assed grin.

  Ramon had been a relief pitcher for New York for the last three years. He also used to be fun, but then he got married. Nowadays, I rarely saw Ramon outside the clubhouse.

  I knew just how stupid I looked. But tuxedos were ridiculous and pompous, so why not go all out. “Hats are cool,” I said, tipping my hat to Marcela. “I bet your lovely wife thinks it’s sexy.”

  “Oh no, you aren’t getting anywhere near this one,” Ramon said, and he placed a protective arm around his wife. She looked stunning in a bright blue dress that wrapped around her curvaceous figure.

  “Coop is right. Hats are sexy,” Marcela said and shot me a wink. “Maybe you should have gotten that bowler hat I pointed out.”

  “Your wife has excellent taste.” I blew her a kiss, and she laughed with a shake of her head.

  “Don’t be fooled by his charm. This is how it starts,” Ramon said, gravely. “A little flirting. A compliment here and there. The next thing you know, Coop will be inviting you up to see his amazing Manhattan penthouse.”

  “I do have an amazing apartment, and the view is spectacular.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You have nothing to worry about, mi alma. You know I don’t like heights or men with silver tongues.”

  “Hey, what’s with the stupid hat?” Kevin asked as he strolled up to the group. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his tie crooked. He looked as if he’s raided the lost and found bin at the laundromat.

  “Didn’t you hear? Hats are big this year,” I said and tipped my hat to an attractive woman in a red dress that was passing by. The woman smiled wide and mouthed “Come find me.”