Game On

by Collette West

  The things I did, I did to stay close to him, to keep him in some small way a part of my life. If he couldn't be with me for real, then at least I could imagine him with me the only way I knew how.

  He presses his forehead to mine, but he doesn't try and kiss me. Not yet. He's always been one to take his time, and in the deepest recesses of my heart, I know he's still a little gun-shy from what I did to him in the past. He already gave himself to me once, and he's not going to rush into it again. I'm going to have to earn it.

  "The team's on the road after tomorrow's game. Will you…?" He's nervous, the earnest expression on his face so heart-wrenchingly sweet that I feel my stomach start to flutter. "Will you wait for me to get back…so I can take you out again?"

  I smile at him. "I don't turn into a pumpkin until the end of the month."

  A split second of panic crosses his face. "Well, you're just gonna have to let me do something about that." His thumb starts tracing lazy circles along my hairline, loosening the careful work he did on my braid.

  "You're not paying my rent, Jilly." I sit back, folding my arms across my chest.

  "Well, you're not leaving," he states firmly.

  "Bruce, c'mon. Let's just enjoy this," I whisper back.

  There's no way he's going to let me waltz back out of his life, and I don't know how to stop the momentum I created, because I'm well aware of how dangerous it is to let myself believe that I can have him for more than just tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Jilly

  "You walked out of Sake. You didn't show up at Rosewood. Jilly, what the hell happened last night?" Gayle Rader seethes, pulling me into the far corner of the Kings' clubhouse, out of earshot of the other guys.

  "I can reimburse you if that's what you want." I scratch the back of my neck, unsure of what she wants me to say.

  "That's not good enough, Jilly, and you know it. All you had to do was go on a date, spend a couple of hours with a girl. That's it. That's all that was required of you, and you couldn't even do that. Do you know how much work went into planning this promotion?" Gayle sighs heavily, like I let her down big time.

  "But I did…go on the date," I stutter, trying to defend myself.

  "Wait… You what?" She steps forward, looking intently into my eyes.

  "I went on the date with the winner. I just took her where I wanted to go instead." I give Gayle a small smile, but she jabs her finger into my chest, backing me up against the wall.

  "Did you take any pictures? Do you have proof that this date actually occurred?" she asks, her anticipation building.

  "The limo driver took one of us at the end." I so did not want to share that tidbit of information with Gayle, but it might be my only way out of this PR nightmare.

  I thought about kissing Hailey on the ride home but chickened out when my friend, Julio, the driver—Hailey was nice enough to find out his name—kept interrupting us, telling us about the bottle of champagne in the mini fridge and asking us if the temperature in the car felt all right. When we arrived at Hailey's place, I got out to say goodnight, but Julio just stood there after opening the door, taking it all in. I've never felt such a case of performance anxiety, and I fumbled the moment, asking him to take our picture when what I really wanted to do was tell him to get lost.

  "Send me the photo," Gayle barks, poking me again. "I'll follow up with the winner and get her take on everything, and I expect you to loosen that tongue of yours and give me all the quotes I need. Hopefully, I'll be able to throw something together for the site. Maybe we can still salvage this and Terry won't blow a gasket."

  I clench my jaw, angry that what should've remained private between Hailey and me is now going to be made public. Sometimes, I really do hate my job.

  "So, did you like her?" Gayle finally drops the bad-cop routine and gives me a look of motherly concern, making me wish my real mom were still around to talk to about things like this.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. "Yep."

  "Good, because I picked her out for you myself, you know." Okay, Gayle couldn't have dropped a bigger bomb if she tried.

  "You've got to be kidding me." I lean toward her and she holds up her hands.

  "Jilly, I know you've been having a rough year. The cards never seem to align in your favor. So I wanted to go out of my way and do something nice for you. I know you weren't too crazy about participating in this contest. The tortured look on your face in the photo shoot said it all. So I went through the profiles one by one, trying to find the perfect match for you." She grins up at me, hands clasped, and my heart sinks.

  It wasn't fate after all. It was rigged.

  "Why'd you choose her?" I scowl.

  "She's your age. She's originally from your hometown. She physically resembles Sasha Roberts. Need I go on?" Gayle studies me, tilting her head. "Why? Do you know her or something?"

  "You could say that," I mutter, bashing the back of my head against the wall.

  "Oh dear lord. Is she one of your ex-girlfriends?" Gayle covers her mouth with her hand.

  "Hailey Halpert is so much more than an ex-girlfriend." I shut my eyes and wish to God this weren't happening. Gayle is the last person on Earth I should be talking to about this because she's going to exploit it for all it's worth.

  "That's why, with Sasha, you were so…" Her voice trails off as she puts it all together.

  "Gayle, Hailey means a lot to me, and I'd appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself." I plead with her with my eyes and feel her begin to soften.

  "Jilly, you know I have to run something about the date on the Queen of Diamonds. There was so much anticipation leading up to it. My readers are gonna wanna know what happened." Yep, Gayle's back to being all business again, and I know I'm fighting a losing battle.

  "But after that, can you cool it with the stories about us?" I press her, needing some kind of guarantee that this won't spiral out of control.

  Hailey never tried to make a name for herself by riding my coattails. It's not who she is. If this blows up, she might not want to pursue whatever's happening between us after last night, and I can't let her drop out of my life again. I'll do anything to keep her with me.

  "I know you don't think so, but the fans are rooting for you to find someone and be happy. They want you to get your storybook ending, too." Gayle taps my shoulder, trying to build me up. "Hailey is a very photogenic girl. When readers see the pic of the two of you together, they're gonna want more. Hell, they're gonna demand it."

  "Well, too bad, because that's it." I draw a line in the sand, but Gayle doesn't back down.

  "I'm sure Terry is gonna want you to work this to your advantage, Jilly. I'm not the only one who's gonna advise you to be more open when it comes to your private life. You're such an enigma. The fans don't know who you are. That's why it's been so hard for them to warm up to you. If you don't let them in now, they'll really turn on you."

  Gayle knows what she's talking about. She's been working the PR beat for a long time, since back when she was a broadcaster. She's the one who advised Chase Whitfield's wife, Grey, when he pulled her out of anonymity and thrust her into the spotlight. She also handled the developing romance between Sasha and Brooks when Terry told them to cool it. I'm sure she could help me, too, if I let her. But I'm not so sure.

  "Can we just see where this goes first? The last thing I wanna do is scare Hailey off." I try an honest approach instead of getting all hostile, and Gayle seems to respect me for it, slowly nodding in agreement.

  "It's not just about you anyway, kid. There's a lot going on behind the scenes that you don't even know about. For example, have you ever heard of the New York Warriors?" Gayle questions me.

  "No…why?" Like I have a friggin' clue what she's talking about. I shuffle my feet, wishing this little chat of ours were already over. I have a game to prepare for.

  "It's this series of romance novels that some anonymous author's been writing. The stories she tells are a little too similar to
the Kings than Terry likes. He thinks they're coming from an inside source and he wants to shut down whoever's behind it," Gayle relays, watching my reaction.

  "I never heard of them," I state blankly. "I don't read shit like that."

  "I wouldn't expect you to." Gayle rolls her eyes. "But Kings fans are eating them up, believing every word in them to be true since the author doesn't make it too difficult to figure out who's who."

  "Has she written anything about me yet?" I cringe, imagining how a romance author would portray someone like me.

  "So far, you're just a secondary character. You haven't been featured as a lead. But Chase has, and so has Brooks. Who knows? You might be next." Gayle slings her bag over her shoulder, preparing to leave, but there's no way I'm letting her walk away now.

  "What has this author said about me so far?" I interrogate Gayle, afraid of her response. "That I'm the oaf of the team?"

  "Quite the opposite. From what I can gather, her readers really love your character." Gayle couldn't have shocked me more if she tried.

  "They do?" I ask, dumbfounded.

  "Yeah. Whoever the author is, I think she has a soft spot for you because she eviscerated Drake Schultz." Gayle chuckles lightly.

  "Then I really have to check them out." I mutter, unsure if I'll ever have the guts to pick one up unless I can download them somewhere.

  "You do that, Jilly, and have a good game, all right? I'll straighten this all out with Terry. Just be sure to send me that picture of you and the winner. You have my email address." Gayle always knows when to make an exit. She gives me a quick smile before hightailing it out of the clubhouse as the guys start to change from their batting practice gear into their uniforms.

  Well, I guess that settles it. I know what I'll be reading on the flight to Boston later tonight. I think my Kindle app is about to get a serious workout.

  Chapter Four

  Hailey

  I do the first thing I do every morning—I check my Amazon sales rankings.

  And breathe a sigh of relief when I see that, among all of the books I've published, I sold close to a hundred copies yesterday. If sales remain steady, maybe I will get to stay in New York for at least a little while longer. I know Jilly would like that. I know I'd like that. No matter how risky that decision might turn out for the both of us.

  All right, I'm lying. This morning, I didn't start my day by logging on to Amazon. Today, the first thing I did was reread Jilly's texts. Now, I'm trying to hold off until eleven o'clock before texting him back. He flew to Boston last night, and the team arrived at the hotel pretty late. He's always been one to sleep in, so I don't want to wake him. Somehow, I'll restrain myself. I've waited this long; a few more hours won't kill me.

  I scroll through his texts again, unable to keep a smile from spreading across my face.

  Sunday, 12:05 p.m. Next time, you're inviting me up to your apartment instead of sending me home with Julio! But I gotta admit it's nice being able to picture where you are at this exact moment. I only wish you were here at the stadium with me.

  Sunday, 1:56 p.m. I shouldn't be in the clubhouse texting you. I should get my butt down to the bullpen, but I don't wanna… 'cause all I can think about is how last night was friggin' fantastic.

  Sunday, 2:33 p.m. Right about now, I should be mentally preparing myself in case I have to come into the game, but all I can think about is what you'd look like sitting in the stands watching me pitch. So…when are you coming to see me play?

  Sunday, 3:41 p.m. Looks like I'm gonna have to pitch today. Damn, I just wanna sit here and daydream about you and how you make even the ugly-ass Staten Island ferry look good.

  Sunday, 8:04 p.m. Getting ready to board our flight. If you don't hear from me for a few hours, that's why. I know you miss me already! :)

  Then I come across a new text that I didn't see until now. Man, I didn't even hear my phone. I must've been asleep when it came through.

  Monday, 1:58 a.m. I should be hunkering down, but I can't stop reading this book. It's by some chick who supposedly writes about the Kings but calls them the Warriors. Shit like this usually isn't my thing, but I can't believe some of the stuff that's in here. I can see why Drake flipped his lid. I'm glad you don't write trash like this.

  My phone slips out of my hand and all I feel is a sinking sensation inside my stomach. The one I always get whenever I know I've done something wrong, like my conscience is letting me know I've been a bad girl.

  He knows…but he doesn't know.

  Jilly is reading my books. How did he even find out about them? He doesn't read romance novels. He's not that kind of guy. Someone must have told him about them…but who? Is someone onto me?

  I nearly jump out of my skin when my phone rings. What if it's Jilly? What if he figured out that it's me?

  My heart feels like it's going to pound right out of my chest, but I breathe a little easier when I see that it's not Jilly's number flashing across the screen.

  Still, I answer a bit shakily. "Hell…Hello?"

  "Hailey? It's Gayle Rader. How are you doing on this Monday morning?" The force of her exuberance hits me like a freight train, hurtling along at full speed.

  Christ, I really wish I had some caffeine running through my veins before having to deal with someone as high energy as Gayle.

  "I'm good. I'm good," I repeat like an idiot, wondering why she's calling me.

  "Excellent. Glad to hear it. Listen, I'm finishing up a piece on the dream date and I just wanted to follow up and get your thoughts on it. Did you have a good time? Was it everything you expected it to be?" Her questions slam into my half-awake brain one after the other.

  Yet all I can think about is: What would Jilly want me to say? I don't want to get him in trouble. We didn't exactly follow the itinerary, and I don't know how much he might've already told Gayle, but knowing him, it probably wasn't much. I know how persuasive she can be. Initially, I tried to talk my way out of going on the date, but she wouldn't hear of it. She's the kind of woman who doesn't take no for an answer, so I better watch my step.

  "Yeah, it was a lot of fun," I respond lamely, not wanting to say too much.

  "Where did you guys go? What'd you do? Don't be coy with me, Miss Halpert. I already know you two didn't exactly stick to the schedule," she relates like we're a couple of besties dishing over the details of my Saturday night date.

  I clear my throat and try to stall. "It's stupid, I know, but I should've told you earlier that I'm allergic to shellfish. I'm sure there were probably things on the menu that I could've eaten, but once I got there, I didn't want to take a chance, and Jilly was such a gentleman about it, willing to change our plans on the spur of the moment. He's such an understanding guy."

  "I know you didn't dine at Sake, but…" Gayle prompts, and I can envision the lines on her brow furrowing. "Did you make it to Rosewood?"

  "Umm…I kinda begged out of that, too, I'm afraid. I'm not much of a dancer, and Jilly was accommodating enough to take me somewhere where I'd feel more comfortable," I respond, making sure to lay all of the blame on my shoulders. There's no way I'm letting Jilly get busted for this. He has to see Gayle on a daily basis, and I don't want to make his life any more difficult.

  "Where did you end up going then?" Gayle gets to the heart of the matter, and I can tell that it's where she's been leading me all along.

  "I'm new to the city, and I know it's such a touristy thing to do, but I really wanted to see the Statue of Liberty all lit up at night." There's no way I'm telling her about Ellis Island. That belongs to me and Jilly—no one else. "The Staten Island ferry goes right by there, so it worked out perfectly."

  "A starlight cruise. How romantic," Gayle remarks drolly.

  Good. She's buying it. Maybe this won't be so hard after all. "Well, I don't know how many stars we were able to see, but the skyline was pretty incredible."

  "Yeah, I bet it served as a nice backdrop for all the catching up you had to do."

  Shit. I thou
ght I had it in the bag, but she just socked me between the eyes.

  "Uh…what do you mean?" I stumble, feeling a tad nauseated that she's been playing me all along.

  "I checked out your background before sending you on the date, Hailey. I didn't want Jilly meeting up with some whack job. I always do my homework, and I was well aware that the two of you were from the same town. Not only that, but you graduated from the same high school in the same year."

  She has me, and she knows it. Now, the question is: How far is she going to take it?

  "All right, you got me." I chuckle, acting like there's no use lying to her anymore, like she's way too smart for me. "Jilly and I are, in fact, old friends. I just didn't want to get him into any hot water, in case it came out. I don't think the women who entered the contest would be too happy if they thought that the results might've been tampered with in some way." I push back hard, realizing that it wasn't a mere coincidence that I was chosen.

  "Oh, everything was run aboveboard, I can assure you, Miss Halpert. Talk about the luck of the draw." Gayle's no dummy. She's not going to admit that the whole thing was staged.

  "You can say that again." I roll my eyes, thankful that she can't see me.

  "So are you gonna see him again?"

  Ah… So that's why she's calling me.

  "I'm not sure." I remain evasive. "I'm only in New York for a short period of time, and my schedule is jam-packed while I'm here. Not to mention, Jilly travels so much and spends the majority of his time at the stadium, so it doesn't look too promising. I really hope we can squeeze some time in to see each other again before I leave, but at this point, your guess is as good as mine."

  "When are you leaving?" Gayle inquires, her tone firm.

  Crap, I didn't want to tell her that, but now she has me cornered.

  "The end of the month, most likely," I divulge, attempting to keep things somewhat vague.

  "Well, since you didn't get to go on the dream date I envisioned for you, I insist on making up for it—my treat." She's determined to get at least one more story out of this, even if it kills her.