The Sweet Spot (All About the Diamond #1)

by Naomi Springthorp

  Text to Joey - What if I don’t want to?

  Text from Joey - What? Spill.

  Text to Joey - Maybe I believe him, he wasn’t with her and he only wants me

  Text from Joey - Who got to you?

  Text to Joey - Cross

  Text from Joey - He’s too skinny for me, but has nice shoulders. Give him my number.

  Text from Joey - Focus on something else and wait for a sign.

  Text to Joey - He left me a letter under my door and he’s been coming by to see if I’m home when the team is in town.

  Text to Joey - He’s still texting me everyday

  Text from Joey - He’s not giving up. I like that.

  Text from Joey - I promise you’ll get a sign that tells you what to do.

  I call Sam and I know I shouldn’t.

  “Hello?” Sam answers.

  “Hi. Sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

  “It’s about time. He’s worried sick. It’s killing his stats.”

  “I can’t deal with finding a naked woman waiting for him in his room, and the same woman I watched use a room key to get in his room only a few days before. It’s always going to be something. Honestly, I’m hurt and confused. I’ve never been this freaking emotional about anything. Is he okay?” I ask. I have to know.

  “Alive and breathing, but I don’t think I would classify him as okay. I thought you were stronger than this. He’s not that guy. Shit happens, but it’s the women not him. He’s only interested in you. You need to do what’s right for you and I can’t tell you what to do. I want my bro happy and winning games. I know he’s a great guy. When he sets his mind on something he doesn’t give up and he’s set on you.”

  “I miss him. He makes me feel like a weak girl… I’ve never needed anyone. I don’t like how he can make me cry. I don’t cry.” I say quietly listening to the words as they're set free into the atmosphere.

  “Sherry, you’re a girl and sometimes we cry.” Sam stops for a second and continues with a different tone. “For giggles. Have you taken a pregnancy test, emotional girl?” she laughs.

  “No. Why would I do that?” I say, taken aback.

  “You said you're hurt, confused, and have never been this and I quote freaking emotional… that’s why.” Sam using logic. “He loves you and isn’t going to give up. Maybe you should buy a multi-pack of pregnancy tests.”

  “Sam, you can’t tell him you joked about pregnancy tests.”

  “I’m not joking! But, I would never tell him. Too close to home for his heart.”

  “Besides, I’m on the pill.”

  “Oh, so you don’t think the sperm of a professional athlete could potentially take down the pill. Have you tested the pill this way?”

  “Uh…”

  “I thought not. Multi-pack. Hide them where nobody can find them. You never want them to be discovered. Trust me, it’s an uncomfortable line of questioning no matter what way it goes.”

  I move on from the conversation with Sam thinking no way, but better check. I’m concentrating on getting work caught up and the karaoke finals. If I can make it through karaoke finals in one piece and not fall apart like a blubbering idiot, then I can make a clear decision.

  I start playing “Love Runs Out” by One Republic and “Ex’s & Oh’s” by Elle King on a repeat loop. I need some power songs to help me get through this week and they fit the requirements for the first round of the karaoke finals. I wander through my condo singing at the top of my lungs and I’m inspired to go shuffling through my closet. My karaoke outfit needs an attitude, bitch boots, tight pants, a top that shows off my cleavage and leather. Yes, definitely leather. I toss my skintight dark rinse jeggings and my soft black leather moto jacket onto the bed. I need a top that’s low-cut, draped, and skims over my hips. My four inch black leather platform boots with the belts on the side for some metal will be perfect, hitting me below the knee—definition of bitch boots!

  I need shopping therapy. I get dressed and drive up the coast to the outlet mall. It never lets me down and gives me an opportunity to play loud music, belting at the top of my lungs. A new top and maybe some accessories. This may be what the doctor ordered to get me out of my funk.

  I wander through every store and even treat myself to a frappe. I find a black draped plunge tank that gathers in all the right places, bares my shoulders and skims my hips perfectly. Better than what I was hoping for with the deep plunge dipping below my breasts. It makes me feel sexy when I put it on. I also pick up a black leather belt with a rhinestone covered buckle for some bling to brighten up the middle of my outfit and a three inch silver cuff bracelet. I keep shopping because I need a long necklace to accentuate the deep neckline of the top I found. When I see it shining at me from a store window, thirty-eight inches of silver dotted with red and clear crystals of varying sizes about every two inches along it’s length. The cost is too much and it doesn’t even matter, I’m having it!

  $700 later I climb into my car to drive home and my pocket vibrates. I know who it is. I want to know he’s okay, but I want to be okay, too. I get my phone with intentions of self-preservation, I’m going to delete him and block him. My life needs to keep going. I look at my phone and his message is right there in front of me with no way to avoid it:

  Text from Rick - I will find a way to make you want to be my queen again. If it was my choice, I would be with you now, not on my way to Atlanta. I love you.

  He’s killing me. I physically can’t block him, I can’t delete him and I hurt for both of us. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. I send him a quick reply because I can’t help myself:

  Text to Rick - Good luck on the road trip. Take some time and you’ll be fine without me.

  My phone vibrates:

  Text from Rick - I’ll never be fine without you. You have my heart.

  Text from Rick - Getting a response from you makes me happy

  Text from Rick - Are you fine without me?

  I drive home with the radio blasting The Killers and Kings of Leon, trying to keep my head clear. I stop at the drug store on my way home at Sam’s request and buy a multi-pack. But, instead of going home I drive to the beach and sit in the warm sand watching the sunset. The beach has always comforted me. My Mom would take me to the beach and we’d sit on the rocks, watching the waves crash. It makes everything okay. It centers me.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  First thing in the morning, I pee on a stick and set it aside while I get caught up on work and start into my weekly updates. I go back to check the stick and take a picture of it, texting it to Sam. Getting an almost immediate reply:

  Text from Sam - Sorry.

  I have to know…

  Text to Sam - Why are you sorry?

  Text from Sam - I know it’s disappointing even if it isn’t something you're wanting.

  Text from Sam - I know that’s weird

  (Note to self: When you’re not already in the midst of heartbreak and mental turmoil, ponder emotional response to negative stick.)

  I take a few minutes to check in with my current travelers and follow up on the trips I’m currently planning.

  I’m finishing my work and look up to see it’s 4pm, almost time for the game. I haven’t watched a game or done so much as check the score since I left LA. I haven’t been able to look at the photos of us together. I want to see his face, but I’m afraid it will send me back weeks. I turn the game on because I’m just that stupid. I tell myself I will only watch an inning or two. Rick is in the lineup and hitting sixth. Seals are at bat in the top of the first inning, but there’s no action. The guys take the field in the bottom of the first and Seno walks out of the dugout toward home plate in full gear. I should turn it off now, but it’s a train wreck. It reminds me of the scene from Bull Durham when Crash gets tossed for calling the umpire a cocksucker. Rick is obviously mouthing off behind the plate and second-guessing the umpire’s calls, possibly tormenting the hitters. After one call, Rick stands up, turns around, an
d looks the umpire in the face, saying something that gets him tossed. He rips his mask and helmet off, throws them on the ground and they show a close up of him walking off the field that I didn’t need to see. Dark circles around his eyes. His eyes are red and the special glint I usually find there is missing. His sadness is evident and it’s my fault. I turn the TV off.

  I spend the next week, mostly at the beach when I should be cleaning and getting things done at home. I pay attention to the game schedule, so I know when he’s in town. I don’t go to any games or watch the games.

  I get home from the beach to find a note on my door:

  Sherry,

  I was here. Hope you don’t mind, I used the key you gave me to leave you something.

  Love,

  Rick

  I snatch the note off the door and unlock it. I walk in and there are tropical bouquets everywhere. They’re beautiful. I find a huge vase of red roses with a note.

  Sherry,

  One rose for each day I’ve known you and loved you. I’ll always love you. We need to be together. Please love me.

  Love,

  Rick

  I make myself busy with laundry and cleaning because I don’t want to get caught up in it.

  Two hours later my place has never been so clean and my brain won’t stop. I start baking mindlessly and packaging up treats for later.

  I can’t stop thinking about him. I climb into bed and hide from the world.

  I wake up early Tuesday and I know if he comes for me, I won’t tell him no. I love him. But, I need to be strong and not go easily because I refuse to go through this again. Honestly, I don’t know if I can handle this hurt again and I’m not sure I want to risk my heart. Can it ever be the same as it was?

  I stay busy and get business caught up through Wednesday, so I can take off for my afternoon primping.

  I keep changing my mind about which song I want to sing for the second round, if I even get to the second round. I had decided on “The Flame” by Cheap Trick, but that was because of something Rick said and I need to be in control so that’s not happening. I did “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran really well at the bar in Colorado, but that was only great because it was emotion driven and Rick was there with me. I don’t think Rick will be there tomorrow night. I don’t know when or if I’ll see him again. A tear rolls down my face and I know I need to pick something power driven to keep my attitude up. The Killers? Maybe “Mr. Brightside”? “Come Home” by OneRepublic, could be bad to do two songs by the same artist and could be good because they’re male vocals, not really power driven. Maybe something 80’s? I never sang my Lita Ford song for 80’s Rock Ladies Night. I wish I knew what the wild card will be, then again it doesn’t really matter. Karaoke finals can be a distraction, but when it’s over, win or lose… I’ve already lost.

  My phone rings as I’m getting ready for bed and there’s no caller ID, “Hello?”

  “Hi. I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m willing to start over from the beginning. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to go out with me again. I just want to see you again. Good luck at your karaoke finals tomorrow night, though you don’t need it—it’s yours for sure. Thank you for listening to me,” he speaks slowly and slightly slurred, so I’m guessing he’s drunk.

  “Rick, please be safe. Who’s with you?” my concern showing.

  “I’m with Cross. I love you…”

  I interrupt him, “Give Cross the phone please,” I ask and know he’ll do it because he’s out of it.

  “Hey Sherry,” Chase says upbeat.

  “Are you taking care of him? He sounds absolutely wasted out of his mind!”

  “It’s better than him walking around mad at the world, yelling, and throwing shit. This is how I can handle him. I’m sharing a room with him this trip. I’m not his woman or his keeper. I thought he might actually get some sleep if I got him drunk.”

  “Thank you,” I say softly.

  “Thank you? Are you kidding me? Talk to him and figure this out! You’re both crazy!” Chase is upset with me.

  “I know you don’t understand. Thank you for rooming with him this trip,” I say as I hang up. Chase is right. The question is, what do I want? I’m waiting for the sign Joey promised me, because I know what I want and I need confirmation it’s the right thing to do.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Karaoke finals day is finally here and I’m excited! I get up, pour my coffee, and sit down to check my email. Nothing new that has to be dealt with. I hang up my outfit for tonight, and set out my boots, accessories, and other essentials. I grab a donut, okay fine… I grab a bag of heavenly chocolate-coated mini donuts and eat half of them with my coffee. The game is early this morning, but I’m not going there today.

  Text from Sam - Good morning. Rick isn’t in the game today because he showed up hung over, possibly still drunk from last night. Cross can’t be trusted.

  Text to Sam - I was afraid of that. Your brother was wasted when he called me last night.

  Text from Sam - He called you last night? You talked to him? I need the deets.

  I give her the run down and add:

  Text to Sam - Chase thinks I should talk to Rick and figure it out, that we’re both crazy. He might be right. I need to figure out what I want.

  Then there is what Sam hears:

  Text from Sam - So, you're saying you believe you can be fixed?

  I guess anything is possible. I would love to have him with me. I just don’t know if it can be the same. I’m afraid it can’t be the same.

  I shower, washing and conditioning my hair, and using my body scrub so I shine on the stage tonight. I leave my hair wet and take off to get a mani/pedi. I choose a dark red color called Red Hot & Blue Luv for both my toes and my fingers, and splurge on the sea salt scrub with extra leg massage. I go home and relax a few minutes before I start brushing out my hair and take the curling iron to my long layers. I lay out all of my make-up and match up some different options, but eventually go with my rock concert look: black pencil eyeliner pulled out to the crease, black mascara, dark metallic silver eye powder, Dark Cherry Pop Lipstick that I also dab to use as blush, and high-shine lip gloss. I look at myself in the mirror and it’s not me. I’m playing a part and for tonight, that’s probably good. It’s not me to get all made up. If I can’t wear my sneakers or flip flops, I probably don’t want to go there. Tonight is a special occasion and I need the extra shield.

  I change into my black satin string bikinis and matching bra. I pull on my tight dark rinse jeggings and some socks up over them to keep my pants down in my boots. I sit down to put my boots on and my phone rings. The caller ID says it’s a car service, “Hello?”

  “Yes, I’m trying to reach Sherry about her car service today,” a man says.

  “This is Sherry, but I didn’t order a car service for today,” questioning.

  “That’s correct. A limo was ordered to pick you up and take you to the Batter Up. I need to know what time to pick you up or what time you need to be there. I have instructions to stop anywhere you want on the way. I was told to take a photo of you and text it to somebody when I pick you up for a nice tip, apparently they want to make sure I actually pick you up or something. I’m on call to take you home tonight, too,” he continues.

  “Who ordered the limo?” I ask.

  “I don’t have that information,” he says.

  “What number are you sending my photo to?” I dig. He gives me the number and of course, it’s Rick.

  “Please pick me up just before 7pm. I need to be at the Batter Up no later than 7:45. I’ll let you take my photo, but I want to pick where you take it—okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be in front of your building at 6:40 waiting for you. Bye.” He hangs up.

  Why not let Rick do something nice for me? He wants to support me and make me feel special for the finals. He wants to support me. He wants me to feel special. He’s trying to give me space at the same time. I send him a text:<
br />
  Text to Rick - Sweet of you to send a limo for me.

  No response.

  I go back to putting my boots on and slide my new top over my head without messing up my hair or make-up. I check my look in the mirror and straighten out the bottom of my top. The deep plunge sits perfectly between my breasts and enhances my cleavage. I lace my new belt through my belt loops and fasten it with the rhinestone buckle showing right where the draped material of the top separates. I slide on my new silver cuff bracelet and pick through my silver rings deciding which to wear. I open the package with the necklace I had to have and carefully place it over my head, arranging it so the crystals are placed well around my neck and accent the deep plunge. The look is exactly what I want. I grab my leather jacket to take with me and fill my purse with my make-up, mints, and brush. I'll wear the jacket for the first song and take it off for the second song. I double check the mirror and start the walk out to the front of my building. The limo should be here any time.

  My phone vibrates as I walk out to the limo.

  Text from Rick - You’ll always be my queen, but tonight you're a rock star and you should travel like one.