The Game (Carolina Connections Book 4)

by Sylvie Stewart

  Holy. Cow.

  Gavin had gone to my dad on my behalf? The sweet, lovely, stupid guy. I really could have saved him the trouble. My dad would never listen to anyone. But Gavin had tried. He knew my dad practically hated him, certainly viewed him with utter contempt, yet he’d still gone and tried.

  A huge knot formed in my chest and I thought I might cry. There we were, two pathetic messes hanging out by the bananas at Harris Teeter on a Saturday morning.

  There wasn’t really anything else I could say to Mandy. She was in attack mode so nothing would penetrate at this point. “Well, I hope things get better for you, Mandy. I’ll see you later.” I turned my cart and began to steer toward the deli counter, all thoughts turning to Gavin and what he’d done for me.

  Her voice sounded after me, having lost all its fire. “What’s it like to matter to so many people? How do you…make that happen?”

  I stopped in my tracks.

  Darn it.

  I turned my head as she spoke again. “I’ve always just been somebody’s plus one.” She shrugged. “I think it would feel a whole lot better if somebody saw me as the best part of their day. You know, instead of just something pretty to hang onto.”

  What could I say to that?

  Was I the best part of anyone’s day?

  Something in my chest told me I might have been the best part of Gavin’s day. And he may have been the best part of mine. Yeah.

  I looked up at Mandy, her make-up a huge mess and her mouth turned down in a frown. And, darn it, she was still pretty. “You do matter. And if somebody makes you feel like you don’t, they don’t deserve your time.”

  She half-smiled and rolled her eyes. “Thanks, mom.” Then she turned and steered away, probably to pick up a bag of Twizzlers. I knew that’s what I would do.

  It didn’t occur to me until I was at the checkout that, despite her waspish tone, Mandy hadn’t used an ounce of her Candy when speaking with me. That was a first. And it was probably also the first time I’d seen her as just Mandy, a woman who happened to be married to my dad. Maybe he wasn’t the only one wearing judgy pants in the family.

  I sat in my car in the parking lot of Harris Teeter, staring down at my phone. As if his ears were burning, a new text had come in from Gavin and, as usual, it brought a smile to my face. I shook my head and laughed out loud in the silent space of my car.

  Don’t Cave: Did you know that 43% of statistics are made up? I’m 85% sure that’s true.

  I scrolled up to read the one from last night.

  Don’t Cave: Did you know that on his deathbed, the founder of Rolls Royce actually said, “I wish I’d spent more time at the office”?

  I wanted to text him back, but I wasn’t ready. I could feel myself on the precipice of…something. I just didn’t know exactly what yet. But another change in his contact name was a distinct possibility. For someone who’d been so sure of everything a few weeks before, I was quite the mess.

  I sighed and put my phone down, then headed home before all the frozen foods in my trunk melted. Aldo was brewing a batch of iced tea and my mom was on the back deck with Jay, both of them laughing. She reached a hand over and pushed his hair out of his eyes and he tolerated it. When I looked back at Aldo, I noticed his attention had been diverted the same way mine had. Sensing my gaze, his eyes moved to me next. He smiled and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly with a nod.

  “It’s been harder on her than she thought.”

  I gave him a questioning look.

  “Being away from Jay,” he explained.

  “Ah.” Not entirely surprising.

  “We’ve decided to stay on the circuit through the summer and then we’re going to settle here till he graduates.”

  “Really?” I asked, feeling both happy and somewhat disappointed at the same time. I loved having Jay live with me. But I could still hang out with him if they moved to town again. And it would be good to have my mom and Aldo close by. I hugged Aldo, feeling my heart swell.

  “Plenty of time for road trips down the line. It’s more important to be with your kids when you have the chance.” He winked at me and I grinned back.

  Then we took the iced tea and glasses out to the porch and sat down as a family to enjoy the spring day.

  Ari and Ponch came over later in the afternoon to catch up with Mom and Aldo, and Ari brought their mom with her. The two older women shared a bottle of wine on the deck, erupting into cackles every now and then, sending Ari and me shaking our heads at each other. Ponch announced he was going to teach Jay to ride a motorcycle, something Aldo thought was a grand idea, and I had to remind all of them that Jay wouldn’t even be sixteen for another couple weeks. Sheesh. I was then deemed the dasher of dreams.

  I told Ari about my run-in with Mandy at the grocery store, making sure we were well out of my mom’s earshot. For once, Ari didn’t laugh, and neither did I. It was a minor miracle when it came to our history with my dad’s wives.

  Just before dinner, the doorbell rang and I went to answer it, having no clue who it might be, but hearing a tiny voice in my head chanting, “Please be Gavin. Please be Gavin.” Never before had I hoped for someone to disregard my wishes and barrel right through my defenses. The monkeys started up in my belly again as I turned the knob and swung the door open.

  But it wasn’t Gavin.

  It was Thomas Wheeler of all people. And he was dressed in his team uniform, complete with red cap and dusty jeans.

  “Mr. Wheeler,” I said in surprise.

  “Ms. Scott. Sorry for dropping by unannounced like this, but I…it’s been a strange week,” he finished, running his thumb along his chin and looking a bit harried. That was new.

  “Come in.” I opened the door wider for him to enter. No matter what had happened with the firm, he’d always been fair to me, even if his partners hadn’t necessarily been so.

  Laughter came from the kitchen behind me and Mr. Wheeler motioned to my front porch. “Do you mind if we talk out here? The subject is a bit sensitive.”

  “Not a problem,” I replied, more curious than ever. I stepped out and closed the door behind me, signaling for him to take a seat on one of my Adirondack chairs. I settled in the other one and waited to hear what he’d come to say.

  He cleared his throat. “I suppose you’ve heard by now that your father’s firm took home the trophy.”

  I shook my head. “No, I hadn’t. I’m sorry you lost.”

  His mouth twitched on one side. “Our own fault, really.” He breathed in deeply and let it out. “Anyway, I came by because I owe you an apology,” he said, shocking the daylights out of me. He continued, “The day you were let go, my focus was on the client and I failed to fight for you. I considered it my responsibility to do both, and I didn’t.”

  “Mr. Wheeler, please. The client comes first. And I made a mistake that…well, I don’t even know the outcome, and you’re not allowed to tell me, are you?”

  He gave a chagrinned quirk of his lips and shook his head. “I’ll tell you what I can, and the first thing you need to know is that you didn’t make a mistake.” I started to protest but he put a hand out to cut me off. “And even if you had, one typo doesn’t ruin a company, especially one that neglected to file their own damn patents in the first place.”

  I let out a small laugh at that, and he continued. “It’s our job to find and fix oversights, but one lawyer, even one as dedicated and talented as you, doesn’t have the power to bring down an entire company.” He gave me a half smile in return. “I hate to break it to you.” It meant the world to me that he still thought I was a good lawyer, even if I didn’t work for him any longer.

  “But, what do you mean I didn’t make a mistake? I did. Even if it began as only a typo, the bottom line is that you asked me to file the patent and it wasn’t filed.”

  He tilted his head to the side, considering me. Then he just looked confused before his expression morphed again into amusement. “You have no idea what happened, do you?”


  Then it was my turn to be perplexed. I opened my mouth to ask a question and then realized I had no clue which one to ask.

  “Did you know that we had to get a new IT company in this week to shore up our firewall and security?”

  I didn’t bother to answer because how in the world would I know that, and for that matter, why was he talking to me about firewalls? Had he gotten hit in the head by a softball?

  “Earlier this week, I received some anonymous information that was most interesting, both in its content and its implication that our network wasn’t nearly as secure as we’d thought. Hackers,” he explained. “More than one. Let’s just say the first had a vested interest in seeing you bungle the AgPower account, and the second had a very different interest in you—one that, I gather, was to see you reinstated at the firm.”

  My jaw dropped. He was being fairly vague, but I was getting the picture. I mean, I’d known Craig had done some kind of IT tricks to make his fake e-mail disappear, but it sounded like it went deeper than that—a lot deeper.

  “Unfortunately, in both cases, we were unable to pinpoint the hacker in question, but I have a few very specific guesses.”

  I shook my head. There was no way he thought I was a hacker, was there? I knew how to use about four programs, and one of them was Solitaire.

  “Not you, Ms. Scott. Don’t worry.” That sent my blood pressure back toward normal. His face got serious then. “Now, I don’t have the power to reinstate you. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to discover the decision to let you go was two to one, and I doubt that will change in your favor. And you’re right that, technically speaking, it was your task to file the patent and it wasn’t filed—no matter who was actually at fault. The illegal means by which the absolving evidence was revealed makes it particularly sticky, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

  I nodded. He was right. If I tried to sue to get my job back, I’d just end up broke and jobless, no matter how unfair that was. And the alternative was almost worse—if I won, I’d still have to work for Jefferson and Schenk, except this time they’d absolutely despise me. That sounded fun. “Of course. Well, I appreciate you sharing what you could. It does shed some light on things.” I stood, assuming we were done. But I had one more question, one he probably wasn’t even at liberty to answer. “Can I ask how AgPower is doing? Does EnerGro have the patent?”

  His lips twitched again. “Now, would I let that happen?” I chuckled and he stood. “I will, of course, be happy to act as a reference on your behalf. Any firm would be lucky to have you. I’ll also keep my ears open for a good opportunity.” He put his hand out.

  I shook it. “Thank you very much, sir.”

  “You’re most welcome. Take care, Ms. Scott.”

  “You too, Mr. Wheeler.”

  He stepped off the front porch and I had to shield my eyes from the sun in its low position in the sky. Halfway down my walk, he turned. “Tell Mr. Monroe thanks for bringing some new blood to the tournament.” He smiled and shook his head. “Damn. We almost had it.”

  I smiled back and waited until his car had pulled away before opening my front door and shouting. “Ari Amante! What have you done now?!”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Peanuts and Cracker Jack

  GAVIN

  It was the perfect day for a ball game. The air was still and the humidity low, with the temperature hovering in the high seventies. On days like this, I missed the game more than ever. But I had a player who was the starting pitcher in the first playoff game of the season, and he had fire in his eyes and probably a lightning bolt somewhere in his arm. I was happy with that. I was happy for him.

  I was also nervous as shit—both about the game and about seeing Emmy for the first time in a week. I’d received a cryptic message from Ari last night that just said, “SHE KNOWS!” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but I gathered I’d find out soon enough.

  I arrived early and took my spot by the fence waiting for players to arrive and coaches to take them to the locker rooms for speeches and game prep. I took a deep breath, inhaling the sharp scent of grass and dirt and taking in the relative silence.

  “Hey, Slugger, what happened to your eye?” a very familiar voice came from beside me.

  I turned and there she was. My heart fell to my stomach and I drank in the sight of Emmy standing there in a red sundress and a flimsy, white short-sleeved sweater. Her fiery hair was up in that neat ponytail and her eyes were soft and aimed right at me. I wanted to go kiss her, but I hadn’t grown stupid over the past week. Desperate, maybe, but not stupid.

  “Car jacking. You should see the other guy. Name was Rocco or something.” I felt my mouth tug and her lips curved up in response. Damn, she was fucking perfect. “Hi, Emmy.”

  “You should be more careful. I hear six-year-olds can be vicious.” She continued to look at me with that smile, and then her eyes fell to her sandals. “I heard about what you did for me. Thomas Wheeler stopped by yesterday.” She looked back up and pursed her lips. “And the rest I got out of Ari. You guys are sneaky, I’ll give you that.”

  “We’re thinking of starting our own super-hero alliance. Fiona wants costumes. You’re welcome to join.” I raised an eyebrow.

  She laughed out loud at that. “You’re also wonderful—all of you. I can’t believe you all did that for me.”

  I shrugged. “Did it work?”

  She stayed where she was standing, so I did too, even though I wanted to pull her close and finish this conversation with my hands on her ass. Or somewhere in that vicinity.

  She rocked her head side to side. “Kind of. I didn’t get my job back, but Mr. Wheeler is going to give me a reference. My dad also got me an interview at another firm on Tuesday, so that’s good.” She paused. “Speaking of my dad, I heard about that too.”

  I wrinkled my nose and adjusted my hat. “Yeah, I don’t know that I’ll be invited to dinner anytime soon, but I’m glad he was able to help you. You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”

  She opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to refute me or make an important point, but then she closed it again and bit her lip instead. Which, of course, made my cock wake up. This woman was the one with super powers—all she had to do was look at me and I was practically ready to go.

  “So,” I continued when she stayed silent, “do you think you—”

  I didn’t get to finish my question because another female voice interrupted. “I finally get to put a face with the name and the voice! Give me a hug, sweet boy!” A woman who could only be Naomi Miller pulled me in for a short hug and then held me at arm’s length to look me over. She bore some resemblance to her daughter, but her hair was longer and crazier and she dressed like she was waiting for the second coming of Jerry Garcia.

  Naomi raised her eyebrows and gave Emmy a sidelong glance. “I knew it the minute I heard his voice on the phone. I can tell these things, you know.”

  What these things were, I had no idea, but based on the good-natured head shake the comment earned from Emmy, I gathered this wasn’t unusual. It was just Naomi.

  “Come sit with us, Gavin. We got here early so we could get the best seats.” Since they were all high school bleacher seats, that didn’t mean much, but I nodded and let her lead me by the arm to the stands as she peppered me with questions about everything from my black eye to my astrological sign. I figured we could chat for a bit and then I’d get back to my conversation with Emmy, but to my disappointment, Emmy bypassed the open seat next to me and sat herself next to her stepdad who she then introduced me to.

  Maybe I’d read our interaction at the fence all wrong, but it had felt like it was leading to something—maybe not taking us to exactly where we’d left off last week, but somewhere in the same neighborhood. If Naomi noticed the change in my mood, she didn’t mention it. She just kept chattering until the teams took the field to warm up.

  Ari showed up a few minutes before the first pitch and sat on Emmy’s other side, es
sentially boxing her in. I tried to get Ari’s attention but all she did was smile and say hi. What was going on here? Emmy did look at me a couple times, but she almost seemed on the verge of laughter when she did. I guess she was finding it amusing that I’d been trapped in her mother’s web.

  My personal shit would have to wait, though, because the game was about to start and one Jay Miller was taking the mound. All of us stood at once and shouted our loudest. Ari’s voice, of course, carried the farthest, and Naomi looked like she might cry. Jay managed to ignore us all, just as he should. He threw a couple more practice pitches and then the ump called the start of the game. Naomi grabbed my hand and it made me laugh.

  East Forsyth’s first batter stepped up to the plate. I knew this kid and he was usually good for a hard-hit grounder or a line drive. Jay nodded to the catcher and delivered a fastball the batter passed on. Pitch two was the same, but the batter swung and barely missed, causing Naomi to crunch a few of my knuckles together. Aldo nudged her to let go of me, and I finally got my hand back just as Jay wound up and threw a beautiful slider that the batter had no chance of connecting with. The out was called and our row went batshit crazy. Damn, this was going to be one great game.

  But, by the bottom of the fourth, I was feeling a bit put out—and not about the game. I asked Emmy if she wanted to come with me to get some popcorn and she brought Ari along. Then, when we returned to the seats and I tried to switch places with Ari, Naomi protested and insisted I resume my former seat. There were a couple times when I could have sworn I saw the three women exchanging grins that felt like they were somehow at my expense. If I thought Aldo would help a brother out, I was sorely mistaken; his attention was completely centered on every play of the game.

  And it wasn’t hard to see why. His son was pitching a phenomenal game. When the sixth inning turned over and it was clear a relief pitcher would be taking over for the seventh, every ass on North’s bleachers was up and out of its seat as the crowd celebrated Jay’s performance. He hadn’t let a single run in.