by Sierra Dean
She went still, and he froze in the same moment. He hadn’t meant to let the L-bomb slip, not so soon. He wasn’t sure of what he felt for her, but he knew it was something he’d never experienced before. But any asshole knew you didn’t tell a girl you loved her until you thought she was ready to hear it.
And Alice was so not ready for him to say those words.
She didn’t ask him to repeat himself, and Alex didn’t try. But in spite of his fears that the accidental slip would make her run for the hills, she had softened. The tension melted away from her, and much of the anxiety she’d come into the room with had vanished.
“We can try it under one condition,” she said finally.
He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “What’s that?”
“We can’t tell anyone.”
For a second the request confused him. Why on earth would she want to keep it a secret? Weren’t secrets part of the problem, part of what upset her so much about Matt?
She must have read the confusion on his face because she gave his hand a comforting squeeze. “It’s not a shame thing, I swear. But you are famous, and I’m not ready to subject my life to that kind of outside scrutiny. I still think I introduced you to Olivia too soon, and she’s one person. I’m not ready to let the whole world in on this until we’re sure it’s something. And there’s my job. I can’t keep being an umpire if we decide to make a real go of things. Can you say conflict of interest?”
“Right. Of course.”
“So we play it out through the season. If we decide come fall that this is…whatever it is, if it’s anything…then I’ll resign from the league and we can take it public. Okay?”
Well, when she was all perfectly logical about it like that, it was hard to be offended by her desire for secrecy. She wasn’t trying to hide him away, she just wanted to know what they had was real before she upended her whole life for him.
Fair was fair.
“Okay, I think I can handle that.”
“Good.”
“Now can I make a request?”
She stared at him, her nervousness apparent. “Sure.”
“Take off your pants, woman. I’m exhausted and I want to get inside you before I fall asleep.”
“How can I resist such a charming offer?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
One week.
That was the precise amount of time Alice’s perfect happiness lasted before it all got shot straight to hell. She should have known to expect it. She had expected it, right up until Alex told her not to worry. He’d made her believe they could really do this, and one week was all it took to show her what a fool she’d been.
The picture was pinned to the locker room door when she showed up for work. It was a gritty snapshot, the kind of quality one might expect from a camera phone, but there was no doubt about the contents. Her and Alex in the front seat of his rental truck.
K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
Karl was the first person she saw when she stepped inside, a smug, triumphant smirk on his face that clearly said, Not so perfect now, are you?
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Alice snapped, yanking the picture down.
“Donovan wants to see you.”
Alice’s stomach fell. She hadn’t thought it would be possible to feel any worse than she had when she saw the photo, but clearly she’d underestimated how shitty this day could get. If Donovan wanted to see her, she was willing to bet it wasn’t so he could tell her which base she’d be on that afternoon.
She hiked her duffel bag up higher on her shoulder and elbowed past Karl, who intentionally stood in her way. The prick was beside himself with joy knowing how bad this fuckup was going to cost her.
Hadn’t she and Alex been careful? In the week since they’d decided to make a go of it, they’d divided their time between his hotel and her house. The picture the photographer caught had been such an innocent thing. She and Alex had shared a dinner at his suite and he’d dropped her back at her car. It was a quick good-night kiss. They hadn’t even had sex that night.
But someone had known they’d be there.
Someone had been waiting.
Which meant the secret was out, and it sure hadn’t come from her. And there was a small club of people who knew their secret, which limited the options as to who had spilled the beans.
She didn’t know who’d done it, but her gut was telling her the answer was going to be the person she least wanted it to be. Kevin was an unlikely candidate, since he was still in the hospital, though he’d been around for Alex’s first appearance. But it would take a hell of a lot of effort for a guy in traction to call up a sports blog. No, it wasn’t him.
Liv, too, was unlikely. Her daughter, though chatty, wasn’t going to talk about Alice’s love life to strangers. Liv had gone nine years without spilling the beans about Matt in school, so her dropping the Alex bomb didn’t seem plausible.
As for Misty, while her mother might not approve of Alice dating another baseball player, she also still owned a VCR and had a hopelessly out of date cell phone. It would never occur to Misty to contact an online sports blog. She wouldn’t even know what a blog was.
Then there was Alex. She’d hoped so badly she could trust him—he’d insisted he could trust her, in fact. Could he have leaked the story? And if so why? Was it for publicity? To get his name back on everyone’s radar? He’d said and done all the right things to make her believe he was a good guy. Alice had thought he was the best guy, someone she could imagine building a future with.
Now she was flustered and confused. She didn’t want to believe he was capable of throwing her under the bus for the sake of his own fame. Everything she knew about Alex made it impossible for her to think he could do that to her. But things were going up in flames, and her relationship with him was the reason for it. Even if he wasn’t responsible for it directly, she was still experiencing the worst-case scenario she’d imagined at the start.
How could she have been so goddamn stupid?
How many times did someone have to get burned before they stopped playing with matches?
She’d known it was a bad idea to get involved with a player, yet she’d taken the risk anyway. And now she had to face the firing squad all on her own.
Donovan was sitting by himself in the umpire office, rocking slowly in his desk chair. When she walked into the room, he didn’t look up. Not a great way to start.
“Sit down.” He kicked out a wooden chair with his foot, not meeting her imploring gaze. If he wouldn’t glance at her, she was in serious trouble. Even an apologetic half-smile would have been a relief, but Donovan was more grim than she’d ever seen him.
Including the time she’d taken an elbow to the face earlier in the spring.
She plopped down in the chair, dropping the balled paper into the empty garbage can. She wasn’t exactly planning to keep it for her scrapbook.
The whole romance with Alex had been a mistake. She’d taken a risk, and now shit was hitting the fan in a serious way. She was angry, mostly at herself, but she was pissed at Alex by extension. He’d told her they could make things work, and like an idiot she’d believed him. She had thought she might be able to get everything she wanted, and now…? She sighed inwardly and set aside her anger for the time being.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to sound innocent but knowing perfectly well there was no point.
“Don’t play dumb, kid. It’s not gonna fly today.”
“Okay.”
“Alice…” His voice was low and rough, like he was fighting against some unspoken emotion. “I thought you were smarter than this.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“You maybe think an apology is a good place?”
“Would it help?”
He huffed out a breath. “Goddamn you, girl. I wanted so badly for people to be wrong about you. Hire a girl and it’ll never work, she’ll just sleep with the players. That’s what they told me. But I thought to myself, no, Alice wi
ll be different. Alice takes this seriously. Alice is a fucking professional.”
“I am a professional,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Sleeping with a player? That’s your idea of professional?”
“This is ridiculous. It’s one blog.”
“No, this is serious. I’ve been fielding calls all morning. The league wants you out. They seem to think the best way to deal with this is to cut the infection out before it spreads.”
“So in this metaphor, I’m an infection?”
“Yeah, was I too subtle about that?”
Alice was quiet.
“You have to know this looks bad,” Donovan went on. “You’re not a stupid girl, so you have to know how it comes across.”
“I do.”
“What do you want me to do here, Alice?”
“Can the league prove wrongdoing on my part? I mean, they must want me gone because they think I gave Alex or the Lakeland team in general some sort of preferential treatment, right?”
“That’s the suspicion.”
“I’ve only called one Lakeland game since he came back, and I was at second. They lost that game, and I never once got to call any of his at-bat plays. Tell me how I’m supposed to have given him preferential treatment. You know me better than that. I take this job seriously.”
“You don’t take it seriously enough if you thought you could sleep with a player and the league would look the other way.”
“I wasn’t trying to be sneaky,” she lied.
“Sure you were. You knew it was wrong and you were hiding it. Otherwise we wouldn’t be sitting here having this chat, now would we?”
Well, if he was going to be logical about it…
“No.”
“So you knew you were doing something wrong.”
“It’s not that simple, Donovan. He’s going back to San Francisco in a week. We wanted to—”
“I don’t need to know the details of your tryst. I didn’t call you in here for excuses.”
That sounded ominous.
“Why did you, then?”
“I told you what the league wants. It’s right there in the rule book, Alice. We have to be courteous, impartial and firm. We have to command respect. How can you be impartial if you’re sleeping with a player?”
“You’re firing me.”
“I don’t have any choice.”
“You do have a choice. Review the game records. Have the league review them. I didn’t do anything inappropriate during game play. I’ve only done my job and I’ve done it well.”
Donovan was impassive. “They’ve made their decision.”
“And did you fight them on it at all? Did you argue in my favor?”
His demeanor softened. “Of course I did. I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want any of this. But it’s impossible to argue against the evidence.”
“It’s a kiss.”
“It’s an inappropriate interaction between an umpire and a player. It’s not something we can brush under the rug.”
“I’ve kissed my brother goodbye in the same way I kissed Alex in that photo.” She pointed at the garbage can like Donovan would be able to see it through the bin. “I can’t believe that’s proof of anything.”
“Are you denying you’re carrying on a relationship with Alex Ross?” Donovan asked, a hopeful hint in his voice, practically begging her to say it wasn’t true.
She wanted to deny it.
Instead she said, “No.”
“Go home, Alice.”
Could she kick and scream and stir up a fuss? Make a big scene and freak out? She wanted to. She wanted to act like an insane person right then, flip the desk over or something really dramatic.
Mostly, though, she wanted to cry, but she didn’t want to do it in front of Donovan. Once she’d thought of him as a father figure, someone dependable who treated her with respect.
In spite of knowing the mistake was hers, she wanted to blame the older man for what had happened. Why couldn’t he believe her? Why couldn’t he understand that sharing Alex’s bed didn’t extend to giving him on-field favors?
How could she fix things when it was clear they were already broken beyond saving?
She hugged her duffel bag in her lap and unzipped it slowly. After piling her uniform and home-plate mask on the desk beside him, she got to her feet and exited the room without another word.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Yes, I’ve seen it.” Alex sat on the chair in front of his locker, wearing only his boxers, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear while he rummaged for his socks. “No, Ricki, I really don’t know.”
His sisters had left him a dozen messages while he’d been at his game—his last with Lakeland—and their calls had varied from congratulatory to peeved. Ricki fell into the latter category.
“What are you thinking, getting photographed like that?” Ricki asked. “And who’s this girl you’re kissing? Is she trying to make you look like some kind of Lothario? And what are you doing making out with some Florida townie anyway? Are you some kind of Lothario?”
“Stop saying Lothario.”
“Then stop being a dirty poon hound and giving me reasons to call you names.”
“Poon hound? Jesus, Ricki, I’ll never be able to get that out of my brain now. Fuck you.”
“Don’t get mad at me because you put yourself in a position like this,” she snapped back, not missing a beat. “What do you know about this girl? How do you know she’s not using you for your money?”
“I’m not exactly Hugh Hefner, here, having ladies hurl themselves at me for my bank account.”
“That’s so naïve, Alex. You’re a millionaire.”
She would know, she was his accountant.
“She’s not interested in my money.” To be fair, she might be interested in his money, but he didn’t think Alice was working on things with him because she wanted a payday. She certainly wouldn’t have put up so many barriers if she was a gold digger. Ricki’s assumptions didn’t add up.
“It’s not about money. Not everything is about money, you know.”
“Pfft.”
“How did you find out about this so quickly?”
“I have a Google Alert set up for your name. The blog post went live this morning and was in my inbox when I got up.”
The Internet sucked. Alex longed for a time when news was relegated to actual papers and had to be approved through editors, and his sisters couldn’t have email alerts sent directly to their phones every day. He wanted to live in a world where his sisters had to wait for news from him, rather than getting it from bloggers.
“Stop doing that.”
“No.”
“Has Mom seen it?”
“Everyone has seen it.”
Thank God it was only a kiss and nothing more unseemly. Still, he hated knowing the Internet was responsible for telling his family about Alice. He’d discussed her with a few of his sisters, but not since they’d rekindled things. Now they all knew, and it wasn’t because of him.
The Lakeland second baseman came into the room, buttoning his shirt, and absently said, “There’s some chick outside looking for you, Alex.”
A cold sense of dread seized Alex. Alice was supposed to be calling a game—he’d planned to meet her afterwards—but there was no one else who would be waiting for him. And if she wasn’t at her game, that meant she’d either skipped it, or something else had happened.
“I gotta go, Ricki, I’ll talk to you a bit later.” He hung up on his sister before she had a chance to say anything else.
There’d been no time to call Alice after the blog post had been brought to his attention. He had batting practice, and after BP they had a game. Since he was headed back to San Francisco the next morning, they’d planned to have one final night together before the distance part of their long-distance relationship factored in.
The photo showing up online put a bit of a glitch in things. She’d wanted to keep things on
the down low, and now there it was, out in public for everyone to see. He had no idea how they’d been caught, or how the details of who Alice was got leaked into the blog, but it wasn’t good, and he knew she wouldn’t be happy about it.
Her showing up when she should be at work must have meant she was really unhappy about it.
He considered staying in the locker room forever, afraid of the tidal wave of anger he knew Alice was capable of.
Unless she did it, a nagging thought suggested.
No, there was no way. It didn’t make any sense. She’d wanted to keep it a secret so she could protect Olivia and her job.
Jesus. Her job.
He tugged on his jeans and pulled on a T-shirt, barely bothering to get it all the way over his stomach before he wandered out into the hall outside the locker room. Alice was pacing like a caged tiger, her mood so evident it made the hall feel darker in comparison.
“Hey.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. Initially he’d thought he would go in to hug her, but judging by her aura of gloom and doom, a hug didn’t seem like the best idea.
“Hey? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”
“You’ve seen it, then.” Leaning against the wall, he watched her cover the short width of the hall back and forth over and over.
“I just got fired. So yeah, I’ve seen it. The league has seen it. It’s been seen.”
Alex felt physically ill. He badly wanted to go to her, but common sense prohibited him from moving. It was clear the last thing she wanted was to be near him.
“Alice, I’m sorry.”
“Are you? I mean, are you? Why are you sorry?”
Her anger was one thing, and he could appreciate why she was upset, but he couldn’t figure out why she seemed so mad at him personally. “Of course I’m sorry. What are you talking about?”
She hesitated, her expression equal parts angry and sad, like she was debating which one she’d rather be. She settled on angry. “As if you don’t know? You told me this would work. You convinced me we could make a go of this and nothing bad would happen. But something bad did happen. I lost my job. What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
Frustrated by her rage being directed at him, he replied without thinking. “I don’t know, maybe you can go ask Matt for more money.”
