Making a Comeback

by Kristina Mathews

“Sorry about that.” She laughed as if she were just having coffee with friends and was distracted by her phone. “Now where was I? Oh, right. How has Sports Illustrated changed my life? Well, the swimsuit issue was my first job. I was nineteen years old and pretty naïve. I was sheltered, a little spoiled, and I didn’t really have any big dreams in life. Then I found myself traveling the world, meeting people I never would have met, and making money of my own. It was mine, not my Daddy’s, not my husband’s. Mine.”

  She blinked back tears stinging her eyes.

  “I was proud of my work, even though to some people, it didn’t seem like work. Just stand there, or lie in the sand, and look pretty. But it was work. Long hours, delays due to weather or lighting or just not ‘feeling it.’ It was good work, though. Satisfying. And I did make friendships. Modeling was my first job. It’s the only job I’ve ever had. I guess you can say I lived much of my life in front of the camera.”

  Her voice shook a little as she was coming to the end of her little speech. She pulled her phone out again, and holding it up she said, “I want to remember this night. Now let me take a selfie…”

  She flipped her hair back off the left side of her face, and after hearing the gasp from the audience, said, “It just has to be from the right side.”

  She snapped a picture.

  “I know we’ve all become too attached to our phones. We’re afraid to be out of touch for even an instant. But it only takes an instant to go from this”—she showed the audience the right side of her face—“to this.”

  She could feel the heat of the stage lights on her scarred face. “I was struck by a distracted driver. The young man who hit me had received a text message.”

  She glanced down at her phone. “According to the police report, it said ‘Hey man, what’s up?’ And his response to this urgent text?”

  She swallowed back the tears, and continued. “His response was, ‘not much, I’m dri—’ The good news? His phone wasn’t damaged. So they were able to retrieve the unsent message.”

  She put her phone away for the last time that evening.

  “Being a part of Sports Illustrated’s swimsuit edition changed my life. But a simple text changed it even more.”

  Annabelle pulled her hair back, twisting it into a simple knot on the top of her head. With a smile and a nod, she simply said, “Thank you.” And she walked off with her head held high.

  She couldn’t see the crowd through the tears, but she could hear the applause. Flashes of light went off around her and she allowed the escort to help her off the stage. When her vision cleared enough for her to make her way back to her seat, she was surprised to find the crowd was giving her a standing ovation.

  Her phone buzzed repeatedly, but she wasn’t about to check it. She’d made her point. The last thing she wanted was to trip over her gown because she couldn’t ignore her phone. And since the special ringtone she’d programmed for the babysitter hadn’t sounded, she knew her daughters were fine.

  The applause didn’t stop until she reached Cooper and he took her hand to help her sit. Once he sat next to her, the rest of the audience followed suit.

  The next musical act was introduced and the show went on. The program ended with an award for the top cover presented to Kathy Ireland for her first cover, the best-selling issue of all time.

  More pictures were taken as they made their way to the exit after the final presentation. Cooper kept his hand on her back the whole time. She didn’t know what she would have done without him there. Probably chickened out about going onstage. No, she wouldn’t have even come tonight without his support.

  “Ms. Jones.” A reporter caught her just steps from the door. “Can you tell us more about the accident that ended your career? Or should I say, resurrected it?”

  “Resurrected? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh sure, you could do public service announcements. You could be the new spokesperson for the campaign against texting and driving.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not why I said what I said.”

  “So why did you? It was pretty clear you planned the speech, with the phone as a prop. You must have had an agenda.”

  “I wasn’t going to come tonight. I was going to pass up the celebration of one of the best things I’ve ever done, besides having my two children. I was afraid to let people see me like this. Afraid to admit that I’m not the beautiful girl I used to be.” She gave her most confident smile for the cameras. “But then a friend helped me see this as an opportunity to not only face my fears, but to hopefully help others. If I can save even one life, then it will be worth it.”

  “Just one?”

  “I would love to think that every single person who watched tonight will never pick up their phone while driving, but I’m not that naïve.” Pressure was building behind her eyes from the incessant flashes from cameras coming from every direction. Just a few more minutes and then she could drop the mask. “But each person who at least thinks twice before succumbing to the beckoning call of a new message will be a start.”

  “The lovely Miss Annabelle Jones.” The reporter turned to the camera to do her sign off.

  Cooper whisked her into the waiting limo, but not before she heard cries of “Ms. Jones, Annabelle,” and other claims on her attention.

  “You okay?” He asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

  “Yeah. I think I am.”

  “You were tremendous.”

  “Tremendous?”

  “Amazing. Fantastic. Remarkable.” He kissed her neck, nuzzling that delicate spot behind her ear. “Not to mention, lovely, stunning, and I know I’ve said it before, but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

  “You sir, are just trying to flatter me.” She giggled, both at his words and the tickling kisses. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants.”

  “You’re not wearing pants.” His voice was almost a growl. “Please tell me you’re not wearing underwear, either.”

  “You’ll just have to wait to find out.” She scooted away from him and her phone fell from its spot tucked into her dress.

  He picked it up, glancing at the display. “You’ve got quite a few messages.”

  She took the phone from him, scanning for anything that might need her immediate attention.

  “It’s just my agent. I swear the man never sleeps.” She slipped her phone into her purse and leaned back against the leather seat. It had been a long night. She was exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

  Cooper’s phone buzzed.

  “You seem to be getting some messages, too.”

  “Nothing that can’t wait.” He put his arm around her and she relaxed against him.

  “Wait.” She sat up, remembering the conversation she’d had with Marvin Dempsey. What if they were going to make him an offer? “I did give Kelsey’s mom your number. Just in case.”

  He whipped his phone out so fast the car shook.

  “It’s just my agent.” He relaxed back into the seat. “Apparently he doesn’t sleep either.”

  “Maybe you should check.”

  “Tomorrow.” He started to put his phone back into his pocket, but she grabbed it.

  “He left a voice mail. Mind if I check?”

  “Annabelle,” he sang her name, but with more sorrow than the saddest blues song. “I don’t want anything to put a damper on this night. You were triumphant. Let’s just celebrate.”

  “I don’t want to bury my head in the sand. If you’re leaving me, I’d rather know before we make love. So I can savor every moment even more.” She pushed the button to play his voice mail and held it up to her ear.

  “Coop, I have some news…” He grabbed the phone from her before she could hear any more.

  He listened, his face unreadable. After what seemed like an eternity, he switched off the phone and turned toward her, a smile creeping across his face.

  “So?
What’s the news?” Annabelle tried to contain her excitement. Just in case.

  “It seems I have another offer.” He let out a huge sigh. “For some reason, the Goliaths want to take another look at me.”

  “Oh, really?” It was hard for her to pretend she knew nothing about it. And to keep from squealing with joy.

  “You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

  “Well, I do recall a bullpen session you threw for Hunter. I know she’s not officially part of the team, but…”

  “Cut the bull, Annabelle.” For the first time, he didn’t sing her name. “You put her up to this, didn’t you?”

  “I called, and asked her to help you find a job in the United States.” She couldn’t tell if he was mad at her or not. “But she said she no longer had any influence. She sent the video, but that was all.”

  “So this is legitimate? They really want me?”

  “How could they not?” She figured she’d wait until he made the team before confessing to calling Marvin Dempsey.

  “I screwed up.” He couldn’t quite let that go.

  “But you won’t do it again.”

  “No. I won’t.” He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Do you really think I can do this?”

  “Of course you can.” She gave him a loving squeeze. “If I could show my face in front of a live television audience, you can get back on the mound.”

  “But Goliaths’ fans were betrayed by me once.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I can’t let them down again.”

  “You won’t. I have faith in you.” She leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. The whiskers of his carefully trimmed beard tickled her lips. “I love you, Nathan Cooper.”

  “For real?”

  “Yes. You’re my knight in shining armor. My Prince Charming.” She wrapped her arms around him. “My hero.”

  “Annabelle.” He pulled her onto his lap and whispered, “You’re my hero. You helped me believe again. Gave me a reason to make a comeback. I can’t do it without you.”

  “I’ll be here.” She patted his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath her touch.

  “If I make the team, we’ll at least be in the same time zone.”

  “We will. And when the girls are out of school, we’ll come up to San Francisco. We can stay with Hunter and Marco and come to your games.”

  “That would be great.” He picked up her left hand, and brought it to his lips. He kissed her ring finger. “I’m going to want more. You know that, don’t you? I’m going to want the fairy tale.”

  “You think we can just live happily ever after?” Her heart swelled, the idea of spending the rest of her life with this man seemed too good to be true.

  “I do.” He let go of her hand. “But I’m not going to pressure you. I’ve waited ten years to meet you. I think I can wait a few more months to make you mine forever.”

  “Forever?”

  “Yeah. I know I don’t deserve even one night, but I’m an arrogant ballplayer. I want it all.”

  “I want it all, too.”

  Epilogue

  The clubhouse had emptied as the Goliaths took the field early for the ring presentation ceremony. Cooper stayed behind, hoping for a few minutes to gather his thoughts. He’d arranged to receive his ring privately. He would accept it graciously, but he wouldn’t ever wear it.

  “I had a feeling I’d find you here.” Annabelle’s voice was like a breath of fresh air. He wouldn’t be here without her. Not a chance.

  “I’m just trying to lay low until the game actually starts.”

  “You’re not going to get your ring?”

  “I don’t need a ring.” He turned to see her. Beautiful. As always. He’d missed her. They spoke on the phone every night. Sent texts to each other—never while driving—and she’d brought the girls to Arizona during their spring break. “Well, I don’t need a ring I didn’t earn. I will want a ring someday.”

  “You’ve got a good chance to repeat this year.”

  “I’m not talking about that ring.” He stood and put his hands on her waist. “I want a ring from you. I know it’s too soon. Your divorce isn’t even final…”

  “I signed the papers yesterday.” She gave him a little half smile. “I just needed to take some time to, mourn, I guess.”

  “I’ll give you some time.” He stroked her left cheek. “You’ve had a lot of changes recently.”

  “Who would have thought my little speech would go viral?” She laughed, recalling how much attention her discourse on the dangers of texting while driving had garnered. “They even replayed it during the Super Bowl.”

  And her agent had made sure she profited from it. Her career wasn’t quite over. She’d been asked to do a couple of public service announcements. The jarring contrast between her former cover girl perfection and the jagged scars from the accident was sure to make people stop and think before picking up their phone while in the fast lane.

  “Have you decided about college?” He hoped she would continue with her plan to take a few classes, part-time, starting in the fall.

  “I’m looking into a major in Fashion Merchandising at Long Beach, or Apparel Design at San Francisco State.” Pride shone in her voice as she talked about her future plans. “I’ve applied to both, so we’ll see.”

  “Long Beach or San Francisco?” He wondered what her preference was. “You’ll do great either way.”

  “You think so?”

  “Do you want me to help you make a decision?” He leaned closer, brushing her hair off her face. “Or do you just want assurance that I’ll be here whatever you decide?”

  “I lived in San Francisco for seven years. There are so many things I love about the city,” she said. “But I’ve come to love Aurelia Beach, too.”

  “That’s the beauty of this. We can live in both places.” He drew his finger along her jaw. “I can keep an apartment in the city, and a house on the beach. Or if you want to live here full time, I can sell my place down there.”

  She smiled, her imperfect, crooked smile.

  “Annabelle, I’m going to ask you to marry me someday.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “And I will say ‘yes,’ someday.” She sighed, wrapping her arms around him.

  “I suppose tomorrow’s too soon.”

  She nodded.

  He gave a little shrug and then turned toward his locker to retrieve his guitar. He pulled a guitar pick from his pocket and dropping to one knee, he began to play. The song he’d been working on since he’d met her flowed from his heart.

  Your name on my lips is like a song in my heart

  The smile on your face, a priceless work of art.

  Annabelle,

  You’ve got me under your spell.

  A spell I don’t ever want broken.

  When you needed me, I learned how to feel.

  One touch from you, and I was able to heal.

  Annabelle,

  You’ve got me under your spell.

  A spell I don’t ever want broken.

  Your faith in me helped me believe again.

  The love you gave taught me how to win.

  Oh Annabelle,

  Your love’s a magic spell

  And your heart won’t ever be broken.

  He stood, leaving his guitar propped against his locker. With tears in his eyes, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. “Annabelle, I love you. I will always love you. And as soon as you’re ready, I want to become a family.”

  “We’re already a family.” She wrapped her arms around him. “And don’t worry, we’ll make it official soon. Very soon.”

  There was a time when he’d been too impatient to wait for what he wanted. Impatient and cocky and just foolish enough to believe he was entitled to everything he’d been given. But now he knew he didn’t deserve half of the blessings he’d received. He didn’t deserve Annabelle or the love she so f
reely gave him.

  He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve any of this. But he was going to make sure he didn’t take anything for granted. He was going to give everything he had to show his appreciation to the league, the fans, and most of all to his sweet Annabelle.

  Meet the Author

  Kristina Mathews doesn't remember a time when she didn't have a book in her hand. Or in her head. But it wasn't until she turned forty that she confessed the reason the laundry never made it out of the dryer was because she was busy writing.

  While she resigned from teaching with the arrival of her second son, she's remained an educator in some form. As a volunteer, parent club member or para educator, she finds the most satisfaction working with emergent and developing readers, helping foster confidence and a lifelong love of books.

  Kristina lives in Northern California with her husband of more than twenty years, two sons and a black lab. A veteran road tripper, amateur renovator and sports fanatic. She hopes to one day travel all 3,073 miles of Highway 50 from Sacramento, CA to Ocean City, MD, replace her carpet with hardwood floors and serve as a “Ball Dudette” for the San Francisco Giants.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/30540

  Turn the page for a special excerpt of Kristina Mathews’s

  Better Than Perfect

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