by Locklyn Marx
***
Forty minutes later, she was back at the Heat Complex, only today, it was abuzz with activity. Men in suits swarmed around the marble floor and wove through the gold columns, and Kylie the secretary was busy answering the phones, which seemed to be constantly ringing.
“Hey!” A man popped up in front of her, an easy grin on his face. He had a Southern accent and sandy blond hair, and for some reason, Alyssa immediately felt comfortable with him.
“Hi,” she said.
“I’m Dax.” He held his hand out. “Team captain. I see you got the uniform.”
“Yup,” Alyssa said. She caught Kylie’s eye, and saw the look of surprise that crossed her face as she took in Alyssa’s look.
Alyssa was wearing the pink uniform, but had put a white t-shirt on underneath it and left the jersey unbuttoned. She’d put her hair in two pigtails, and had smeared black eyeliner under her eyes. She wasn’t sure what the stuff was called that baseball players usually used, but obviously she didn’t have any of that, so she’d used eyeliner. She wondered if she’d gone a little too far, but then decided she didn’t care if she’d had. Let them think she was just some hick reporter from upstate New York, that she didn’t know what she was talking about, that she was going to go easy on them.
Of course, they’d probably already read what she’d written about Jay, and if they hadn’t, they’d find out about it soon enough. But it wasn’t that big of a deal. She could always play it off as having to do with Jay, and not being a reflection on the team as a whole. They Heat would blame it on him, as seemed to be their habit. Served him right.
“We had a schedule change this morning,” Dax said. “Practice started early, because we have a meeting afterwards. So I came to get you and bring you to the field.”
He led her down a hallway to a bank of elevators. Alyssa followed him into one of the cars, and watched as Dax pushed the button to take them down to the park. When they got off the elevator, they walked through a tunnel and were immediately on the baseball field. Alyssa gaped, taking it all in.
“Pretty amazing, huh?” Dax said from behind her. “No matter how many times I’m out here, I’m still blown away every time.”
The stadium was huge, and it looked even bigger with no one in the stand. The fact that she was here, out on the field, was amazing. Players and coaches huddled in groups on the field, talking. A few of them were using batting cages, and a few others were in the dugout.
The sun was up, and the air was warm. It was a perfect day for any kind of sport, and an especially perfect day for baseball. Alyssa felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. Calm down, she told herself, you have nothing to worry about. You’re good at your job, Isobel is happy with what you’ve done so far, and that’s all the matters. Who cared if they were professional, famous baseball players? They were just people.
“This is awesome,” Alyssa said.
“Let’s go down to the dugout,” Dax said. “I’ll get you set up, and then you can pull out your laptop or whatever you use, and get settled. You probably won’t be able to wander around too much, since we don’t want you to get hurt, but you should feel free to ask questions to whoever you want. Just introduce yourself, everyone’s usually pretty friendly.”
“Thanks,” Alyssa said.
She followed Dax across the field and started down the stairs and into the dugout.
But right before she hit the bottom stair, her right sneaker caught on a nail sticking out of the bottom step. Her legs flew out from under her, and before she knew what was happening, she was on the ground.
***
Jay was on the other side of the field when he saw Alyssa go flying, head over teapot, into the dugout. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like she was wearing some kind of pink uniform, and it looked like her hair was in pigtails. But that couldn’t be right. She didn’t seem like the kind of girl who wore her hair in pigtails, and she was taking herself so seriously that he couldn’t imagine she’d do that on her first day on an important job.
He saw her fall, and the instinct to protect her kicked in. He started to jog over, but as he got closer, he saw Dax Reynolds reach out and try to catch her. Dax went to grab Alyssa around her waist, but she fell anyway, her knee scraping against the rough surface of the ground, her hands breaking her fall.
She cried out, and before Jay could stop himself, he was jumping down into the dugout. “Alyssa,” he said, “Are you okay?” For a second, their eyes met, and she looked so vulnerable and adorable in her pink baseball uniform with a tight t-shirt underneath (God, that chest!) and her hair in two pigtails. She’d smeared something dark under her eyes, which was cute and endearing at the same time, and he wanted to just pick her up and hold her and tell her she was going to be okay.
But then, just like that, the moment was gone, and she was standing up, brushing herself off. “I’m fine,” she grumbled.
“No, you’re not,” Dax said. “You’re bleeding.” All three of them looked down at her uniform. The knee was torn, and a spot of blood was starting to seep through the fabric.
“Fuck,” Alyssa said, and for some reason, Jay was suddenly turned on. It was the combination of the word coming out of her mouth, and the fact that she looked so vulnerable. It was this weird, sexy combination that was contradictory and hot all at the same time.
“Here,” Jay said, leaning down and trying to take her arm. “Sit down.” She glared at him, but let him lead her over to the bench, where he sat down next to her. He reached down and rolled up the bottom of her pants, and she let him. Her legs were smooth and tan, and Jay remembered again what it had been like last night, when he’d almost kissed her. “It doesn’t look that bad.”
“Nope,” Dax said cheerfully. “Just a scrape. I’ll go and grab the first aid kit.”
Jay glared at him, but then he remembered that if Dax was going to get the first aid kit, he could stay here with Alyssa.
“Thanks,” Alyssa said gratefully. Dax picked her bag up from where it had fallen on the floor, and pushed her cell phone, notebook, and wallet back into it. Fortunately her laptop bag had stayed on her shoulder, and was now sitting safely next to her on the dugout bench.
Once Dax had gone to find a band-aid, Alyssa made a big show of pulling her bag out and grabbing her cell phone. She began scrolling through her emails.
“Saw the piece you wrote this morning,” Jay said conversationally.
“Did you?”
“Yeah. Nice job. Very well-written.”
“Thanks.”
He turned to her. “So is that what you really think about me? Or are you just trying to get website visitors?”
She put down her Blackberry and looked at him. The bottoms of her pigtails brushed against the tops of her breasts, and Jay had the urge to reach out and push her hair back. “You think I’d write something like that just to get website visitors?”
“Isn’t that the point of the whole thing?” Jay asked. “To get website visitors?
That is how websites make their money, isn’t it?”
“It’s not about money,” Alyssa said.
“You don’t want to do a good job?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Doesn’t doing a good job mean that you have to get website visitors?”
“I wouldn’t write something sensational just to get visitors,” she said. “And besides, what I wrote wasn’t that bad.”
“I didn’t say it was that bad,” he said. “I asked if that’s what you really thought of me.”
“Yes,” she said. But her voice broke as she said it. “You were trying to impress me last night.”
“I was?”
“Yes. You took me out for a caviar dinner, and then to a bookstore, which you claimed was your favorite place in Manhattan.”
“That is my favorite place in Manhattan.”
She turned to him, her eyes serious. “Name the last three books you bought from there.”
“Full Dark, No Stars by
Stephen King, Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger, and a history of baseball book that I forget the name of because it’s out of print.”
“The Catcher in the Rye?”
“It’s for my little sister.”
This seemed to have stumped her, and she leaned back against the wooden slats of the dugout and closed her eyes.
“How’s your knee?” he asked.
“It’s okay,” she said. But she bit her lip, and he could tell it hurt.
“Here we go!” Dax walked into the dugout, no bounded into the dugout, and Jay reached out and took the little first aid kit he was holding out of his hand. “Oh, yeah,”
Dax said. “You definitely need to get that cleaned out and get a band-aid on it.
Obviously it doesn’t need a stitch, but we still don’t want it to get infected.”
No shit, Jay thought, fighting down a wave of annoyance. “Thanks, Dax,” he said cheerfully, the tone in his voice conveying that Dax should get the hell out of there. But Dax didn’t get the message. He started to open up a band-aid.
“Dax,” Jay said. “I got it.” Dax looked up at him, surprised, and Jay gave him a look. A look he usually reserved for when a runner was on second base and looking like he might want to steal third. Dax got the message, and scampered onto the field.
Jay pulled an antibacterial spray out of the box. Alyssa reached for it. “I can do it,” she said.
“Do what?”
“Put the spray on.”
He looked at her face, and grinned. “You’re scared,” he said.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” He grinned some more. “It’s just some Bactine, it’s not going to sting or anything.”
“I know that,” she said, but he didn’t think she really believed it.
He took the cap off the bottle and she closed her eyes and bit her lip. God, she was adorable, Jay thought. It was too bad she was so uptight and bitchy. In fact, that’s probably why he was having this reaction to her. He probably wanted to break her down.
Of course, the fact that it had been way too long since he’d gotten laid definitely wasn’t helping.
He gently put the spray on her knee, and her body relaxed as she realized it wasn’t going to sting. He pulled a band-aid out and placed it on her scrape.
She looked down at it. He was expecting a thanks, but all she said was, “What was it about?”
“What?”
“Full Dark, No Stars. What was it about?”
“Four novellas,” he said. “My favorite was the one where the wife found out her husband was actually a deranged serial killer.”
She nodded, thinking about this. “Thanks for helping me,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” he said. A strand of her hair had escaped from one of her braids, and before he could stop himself, he reached over and pushed it off her face. She whipped her head away from him, like she’d been slapped.
“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t – “
“It’s fine.” But she was standing up and gathering her stuff, then heading down to the other end of the dugout. “Thanks again for helping me.”
And then she was gone.
Chapter Five
When Alyssa finally stepped into a cab at six o’clock that night, she was exhausted. Her hair had come out of her pigtails hours ago, her hand hurt from taking so many notes, her face hurt from perpetually smiling as she met person after person, and her feet hurt her from walking around all day. Who knew this job was going to be so physically demanding? To top it all off, she’d promised to meet up with Jessa Fields, an old college acquaintance, for drinks tonight before heading back to her hotel room and writing up tomorrow’s column.
At least it would be an easy one to write. Today’s time with the team had been relatively uneventful. She’d met most of the players, until they’d all begun to blur together into one big smiling mass. She’d met the general manager, Burt Hughes, although the owner, Billingsley, had been absent. Which was pretty rude, Alyssa thought as the cab weaved its way through the streets of Brooklyn on the short ride back to her hotel. He’d missed his meeting with her yesterday, and she hadn’t gotten so much as a call or an email to apologize.
Back at the hotel, she showered, letting the day wash off of her. She wrapped herself in a towel and then surveyed the contents of her suitcase. She wanted to step into her favorite jeans and a comfy cardigan, but she was going to meet Jessa. Jessa was one of those women who would most certainly be dressed to the nines, and by the sound of the place she’d picked for them to meet – some bar called Clique – Alyssa had the feeling that to show up in jeans and a sweater wouldn’t be appropriate.
So she pulled out the one going-out outfit she’d brought, purchased right before she’d left. A tight, short black skirt, knee-high boots, and a sleeveless black shirt that plunged down in the front. She topped it off with a shimmery cardigan, let her hair hang loose and curly down her back, and used her eyeliner to create a smoky eye. She dabbed on some lip gloss, surveyed herself in the mirror, and grinned. Not bad.
She took the elevator down to the lobby, and let the doorman hail her a cab, which dropped her off in front of Clique. Tables of smartly dressed people dotted the floor, and the walls of the bar were lined with soft-looking red leather sofas. It looked exclusive, posh, and intimidating. She sighed and scanned the area for Jessa.
There was a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around.
“Alyssa!” Jessa squealed, grabbing her in a hug. “Oh my God, I missed you!
You look fabulous!”
“So do you,” Alyssa said, not sure how Jessa could have missed her so much since they were never really that close in the first place. Not to mention the fact that the only reason Jessa had known she was going to be in Brooklyn was because she’d read it on Alyssa’s facebook.
“Come on, let’s sit,” Jessa said. She grabbed Alyssa’s hand like they were in middle school or something, and led her to a table front and center. “This is the best table to meet guys,” she declared. She sat down and pushed her long blonde hair out of her eyes. Alyssa didn’t remember her wearing it that long in college, but then she realized it was extensions. At least, she was pretty sure. No way anyone’s hair was that full and shiny naturally.
“I’m not really in a place to meet guys,” Alyssa said.
“Oh, right.” Jessa reached out and grabbed her hand again. “I heard about you and Joel.”
“From who?”
“Oh, you know.” Jessa waved her hand like gossip just floated around. Which, when Alyssa really thought about it, she guessed was true. “So what happened? You guys seemed like such a perfect couple.”
A cocktail waitress came over and set down a couple of menus. “We just grew apart,” Alyssa said.
Jessa rolled her eyes. “Honey, no one ever just grows apart. There’s always a reason. So what was it?”
Alyssa thought about Joel Martin, the guy she’d dated all through college and for two years after graduation. She thought about his dark hair, his perfect smile, the way he could walk into a room and look at her like no one else was there. He was special, and he made her feel special.
He’d been a finance major at Syracuse, her a journalism major. But after graduation, something had changed between them. They’d lived together in a small apartment in Utica. It had been fine at first. But then Joel began pressuring her. He wanted to move to Chicago – he’d been offered a job there, and he was ready to go. He wanted Alyssa to quit her job, to start thinking about having a baby. But Alyssa didn’t want that. She’d wanted to work on starting her career first. She was working at a little local paper, and Joel was making a lot more money than her, so sometimes it felt like his job was more important.
Joel had always been generous with money, not that Alyssa had ever taken advantage. When it came down to it, though, he thought that just because he made more money than her, that his job took precedence. They’d broken up after the millionth conversation abo
ut it, when Alyssa realized it just wasn’t going to work. She didn’t want to stay home and be a homemaker. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with women who did – and she definitely wanted children someday. But she realized that as long as she was with Joel, he would be calling the shots.
It was like being married to a movie star or something. Like, if you married Brad Pitt and you were a normal person, you were never going to get a say in the relationship.
You could never say you didn’t want to move to California if Brad wanted to, because whatever he was doing was always going to be more important than what you wanted.
“We really did just grow apart,” Alyssa said.
“Did you hear that he’s engaged to Hailey Sutton now?” Jessa asked, naming a girl they’d gone to school with.
“I know,” Alyssa lied, even though this was the first she’d heard of it. “I sent them an engagement gift. A salad spinner.”
Jessa looked disappointed, but then her whole face lit up. “Oh my God,” she said, and grabbed Alyssa’s arm so tight that Alyssa flinched. “Is that Chad Parnell? From the Brooklyn Heat?”
Alyssa looked up and saw Chad walking across the bar, his head high, grinning at people as he greeted them.
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s Chad.” She met his eye, and he raised his arm in greeting.
Jessa looked at her in awe. “He’s waving to you!”
“Yeah,” Alyssa said. “I’m here doing a story on the Brooklyn Heat, remember?”
Did Jessa even remember that? What was wrong with this girl? She waved back to Chad, who then began weaving his way through the crowd toward them.
“Oh. My. God.” Jessa sounded like she was about to faint. “He’s coming over here!” Alyssa bit back the smile on her lips.
“Hey,” Chad said. “Fancy seeing you here. What’s going on?”
“Not much,” she said. “This is my, ah… my friend, Jessa. We went to college together.” She hoped by adding the whole ‘we went to college together’ line, Chad would get the message that her and Jessa weren’t that close, and therefore she shouldn’t be held responsible for any of Jessa’s crazy behavior.
