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by Brio, Alessia; Belegon, Will

  "I'm not mad at him," Andi replied. "Actually, I don't know what I am. I'm not sure how I feel about…this."

  "Well, why don't we go have a drink and talk about it? I must say, you sure do know how to show a guy a good time."

  Andi smiled at his exuberance. Arm in arm, the best friends strolled from the ballpark to find a place they could sit and talk.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The file for the hotel account rested on the glass-topped desk in front of her and, while Andi's eyes looked straight at it, her attention focused on a far more distant target. She absently twirled the paper sleeve around her cup of Venti Caramel Macchiato, her mind on a man who would soon be relocating to her city.

  The report of Bradley Moreno's move to the Cubs was featured above the fold in the Trib, and the office buzzed with the news. Most bemoaned the loss of Jack Snyder in the trade, although they grudgingly admitted that gaining Brad's arm more than offset that loss. The only silver lining Andi could find was the fact that Snyder would be in Kansas City, over five-hundred miles away, and only in Chicago a few times each year. She ran through the rest of that club's roster in her mind, trying to pick a player from memory—someone to fill the void left by Brad—but the mental images eluded her.

  A large, flat-panel monitor to her left woke from hibernation as three e-mail messages appeared in her inbox. She opened Jay David's first and replied with an affirmative regarding lunch, then zipped off a note to the receptionist to cancel her one o'clock appointment. Maybe she could pick his brain about a replacement. She didn't need to choose a target immediately, but Andi preferred to research her quarry a bit. It helped avoid unwanted complications.

  Ironically, the other two messages came from Eric and Brad, and both almost identical in text saying: Call me. I need to talk to you.

  Flagging them for later follow-up, she dove into her work and didn't look up again until Jay David's knock interrupted her nearly two hours later. "Ready, peaches? I called ahead for a table at the place on the corner. Hope that's okay. I thought maybe you could use some comfort food."

  Andi stretched as she rose to collect her purse from the bottom drawer of the file cabinet nearest her desk. "Why would you think that?"

  He looked sideways at her, hands on his hips. "C'mon, now. This is ME you're talking to! I know you better than anyone, so don't try to pretend you're not shaken up about…"

  "Stop right there." Andi poked one delicate finger into his sternum. "I am not shaken up about Brad's trade. End of story. Capice?" "But…" "Capice?" Her bluster sounded hollow, and she could tell from the

  softening in his expression that Jay David picked up on it. "Okay, already. I won't say another word about Moreno. Got his spot on the line-up filled yet? You've got time before the Royals are back in town, but I know how you like to be prepared." Jay David held open her office door as she passed through, flicking the light switch just before the door swung closed behind them.

  "Actually, I was hoping to pick your brain about that over lunch— unless there's something else you needed to discuss. I noticed the big box with your name on it in the mailroom. Those new brochures come in?"

  "Oh, wait'll you see 'em! They kick all forms of ass. You really came through for me on this one, honey. I owe you big time."

  "Don't thank me! My client jumped on the suggestion like Dino on Fred. It almost seemed like they were waiting for it or…looking for an opportunity."

  Jay David laughed at the image of Andi being pounced by an enthusiastic hotel executive. "Did they lick your face, too? I bumped into the woman who holds my position in their conglomerate at a lifestyle party a couple weeks ago. The rest was easy. In my circles, the real work usually gets done outside the office."

  "Oh, sure. Way to steal my thunder. Bastard. Here I thought I'd really accomplished something for you. You're paying for lunch now."

  They rode the elevator down to the third floor, then disembarked to stroll through the shops on the lower floors before exiting onto the street. Thick, summer humidity made walking uncomfortable, and Andi wished the tiny diner carved into the corner of their office building had an entrance from inside.

  In the urban professional world concoctions and designer water, the impressive crowd. The proprietor reminded her of Luigi from the Super Mario Brothers franchise, complete with dark, bushy moustache and a denim apron in lieu of the overalls. He greeted them at the door with a

  of trendy cuisine, of exotic basic fare offered drew an hearty welcome, like long-lost friends, at the same time noting his disapproval of the lack of meat on their bones.

  "Two specials," he shouted over his shoulder toward the kitchen as he ushered them to a table, bypassing their need for menus.

  "Good people here," Jay David noted once their server dropped off a couple ice waters and a basket of fresh-baked bread. "Wish my hometown diner had been so welcoming…but I was just too black and too, too gay."

  A cloud of unpleasant memories shaded his normally sunny disposition. Andi stretched her arm across the table and took his hand. With a squeeze, she wordlessly comforted him until the moment passed. He shook himself, squared his shoulders, and smiled in thanks. Reaching into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, Jay David extracted a glossy trifold and passed it to Andi.

  "We printed five hundred thousand, and they're being scattered to the four winds as we speak. Once your big boy got behind the project, the other major accounts jumped right on the rainbow bandwagon."

  Two heaping plates of roast beef and mashed potatoes were placed between them by a plump young woman with fetching dimples and shy giggle. They dug in, forgetting all about baseball, advertising, and discrimination until coming up for air some minutes later.

  "So," Jay David paused for a drink of iced tea, "you saw the Tribune this morning. I take it you knew that was coming."

  Having a mouthful, she just nodded until she could again speak. "Brad told me the last time they were in town, but I'd no idea that…that…zit was part of the deal. Good riddance!" "There's more," he added. The tone of his voice made her wary. "More…what?" "Your boy Olson's been traded, too. It hasn't hit the media yet." On the heels of Brad's news, the revelation inspired something akin to panic—a feeling foreign to Andi and one she didn't like one bit. Her throat tightened, and her head spun. She slowly lifted her eyes and looked directly into Jay David's. The way they softened told her everything she didn't want to know. "Hold that thought. I gotta pee. Be right back." Without waiting for his confirmation, Andi jumped to her feet and darted around the corner to the restroom. Once inside, isolated and concealed, she leaned against the door and took a deep, shaky breath, willing her nerves to settle. When her heart rate slowed, she turned to the small sink and opened the cold water tap to dampen a paper towel. The face in the mirror looked pale, and her eyes held the fear of a wild animal backed into a corner from which the only escape was through the fire. Andi gripped the sides of the white basin as another wave of vertigo swept over her.

  She forced her thoughts toward work, toward her plans to visit the stables later in the week, toward anything that might distract her from the fact that her two favorite lovers would soon be as far away as they could possibly be: in Chicago. "Honey, you okay in there?" The concern in Jay David's voice made Andi wince with the realization that her feelings were so transparent. She hadn't said the word aloud, even in her thoughts, but Andi felt as if she wore a screaming, scarlet letter on her forehead. Not an 'A'… but one closer to the middle of the alphabet.

  Pulling herself together, she yanked open the door. "I'm okay," she insisted. "Really."

  He clearly didn't believe her, but she put on her best drop-the subject-right-now glare until he shrugged and turned away. Andi took one more deep breath before following him back to their table.

  They tried to talk shop, but the nine-hundred pound gorilla dining with them would not be ignored. Finally, Andi faced the beast. "Which team?" "Cubs. They'll be playing together—although, due to their niches, not vying for
the same play time. Are you really okay? I've never seen you so shaken, sugar."

  "I am…or I will be once I regain my equilibrium. So, tell me, can I at least console myself with the knowledge that these trades are a good thing professionally for both men?"

  "Are you kidding? Most pitchers would give their left nut to work under…" Jay David looked up as the bell over the diner's door jingled with a new entry. "Well, speak of the devil."

  Andi followed his eyes. Standing inside the door, she saw a tall man with dark curly hair and eyes startlingly blue, especially when paired with his hair color and complexion. His broad, powerful shoulders spoke of strength, and when he moved, his manner screamed self-confidence. Andi loved a man that carried himself so, as though everywhere he ventured was the place to be. She felt certain she should recognize the gorgeous man, but for the life of her, she had no idea why. If he'd crossed her path before, she'd remember. He wore casual clothing—nice jeans, sneakers, and a weathered henley. On a weekday in the downtown business district, that told her he didn't work in the corporate world.

  The owner rushed up to him and greeted him with pleasure, another indicator that Andi should recognize him. It bothered her that she couldn't place him.

  He turned in her direction, and they made eye contact. For the first time, Andi noticed the touch of gray at his temples and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. She had taken him for a younger man. She smiled, and his reaction surprised her.

  His eyes narrowed, and a look passed across his face: part determination, part intimidation. It would be dead sexy if it wasn't antagonistically directed at her. Even so, it sent a shiver down Andi's spine that traveled directly to her clit. She wanted him to look at her that intensely again, but not as an adversary…as a lover.

  "Oh, my. He's…he is really something. I feel like I should know him, but I'm sure I couldn't miss such a…" Andi shook herself to chase away the raw lust that flooded both her mind and body. "I mean…who is he? An actor?"

  Jay David looked at her incredulously. "Girl, you have to be kidding! I know you get tunnel vision sometimes, but please. You seriously don't recognize him?" "No, silly. I wouldn't ask if I did." "That, my dear, is your boys' new pitching coach. By all rights, he should be the manager. The job's been offered to him more than once, but he prefers the one he has. And, if it weren't for an accident, he'd be in the Hall of Fame. I can't believe you don't know him." Jay David reached across the table, put a hand on each of her cheeks, and forcibly turned her face back to his. "And, in case you didn't notice, he sure as hell recognized you." "Yeah, I saw that. But how? And why the glare?" Jay David choked harshly and took a sip of soda to clear his throat. "Again, you have got to be kidding! Do you think Snyder's the only one who noticed you the other day wearing that provocative shirt? Besides, I'll bet he's known about you for a long time. The man is sharp. He doesn't miss much, and you have one helluva rep, my dear. He's probably well aware that you've been screwing both of his new acquisitions."

  "Oh, I doubt that. How would he know such a thing?" Andi looked over her shoulder again at the man in question. Now that she had a frame of reference, she did recognize him.

  Slowly, Jay David put down his fork and gave her an intense look. "Andrea, you do realize that men talk? Not to their wives maybe, but certainly to each other. Like I said, you have a rep—a very good, bad rep. Nor are you very easy to miss when you walk into a room. If I had even a hint of interest in women, I would be all over you. Men notice you every where you go, and you know it."

  "Yes, of course I do. Okay, enough about tall, dark, and delicious over there. Help me figure out what to do about Eric and Brad." Andi giggled as a look of shocked surprise crossed Jay David's face. "You can't mean…?" "I don't know," she sighed. "I know my rules, but the thought of giving both of them up at once is very annoying. They are probably my two favorites. No, remove the probably. They are. For different reasons, but they are. I don't want to give them both up, and if I'm breaking my rules to keep one, then I'm gonna just have to find a way to keep both."

  Andi watched with amusement as conflicting emotions played across his face. She followed his thoughts as clearly as if he spoke them aloud. As much as he loved her, he loved the Cubs just as much. For years, he had railed against her granting her 'mojo' to opponents, to the point where he tried to push her at American League players in order to 'save' his beloved team from her influence. Although steadfastly nonreligious and anti-superstitious in every other part of his life, when it came to baseball, he was a regular Shirley Maclaine.

  "You're serious about this, Andi? Because you know I'll help. Anything you ask, my dear. Luckily, the boys leave for Florida in the morning. Gives us a week to figure this out. You sure?"

  "Yes, Jay David, I'm serious. I've decided I don't want to give them up."

  A smile crept across his face the likes of which she hadn't seen since the day he got his new car. "I guess that bastard was closer than he knew. A slump buster you'll never be my dear, not with that face and those tits. But a curse-breaker? Oh, I can definitely see that…" "Huh? JD, what the fuck are you talking about?" Jay David glared at her for using his initials, gave an exaggerated sigh, and set down his fork again to explain the Curse of the Billy Goat to the woman who knew so much about baseball players and so little about baseball.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The smell of microwave popcorn still filled Andi's living room, but the stack of rented DVDs sat untouched on her coffee table. Two empty wine bottles stood watching over them like sentinels. What was supposed to be a laid-back weekend of favorite old movies and comfort food turned into an angst-filled sofa slugfest involving the TiVo-ed last leg of the Cubs' road trip. She scanned each game from start to finish, looking for any interaction between Brad and Eric, hoping to gain some insight into how they'd function as teammates on a far more private field of play.

  Jay David seemed to think the men capable of being cooperative as well as marginally discreet—more so than most of their ilk, anyway— and she trusted his opinion. He not only loved her, but he also adored his Cubs. Thus, Andi knew his enthusiasm for her decision to be two-fold. He truly believed her involvement would have a positive impact on his beloved ball club in addition to fulfilling her needs. She lacked his confidence, focusing instead on the potential for harm to both her and their professional lives.

  Andi's nature triggered an internal rebellion against her own pessimism, and she vowed to conquer it simply because she refused to allow it—or any other emotion—to control her. She called the trashing of her own rules an experiment, which made Jay David howl with laughter until she hung up on him in a fit of pique.

  When he called back, they got down to the nitty gritty— brainstorming the best way to handle the situation. In many ways, he knew both players and the work environment in which they'd be interacting far better than she did.

  Given their erotic guessing games, Eric knew a great deal about Brad—as he knew of all her lovers. However, she couldn't recall ever speaking to Brad about Eric. While Brad was definitely aware of the existence of other lovers, he seemed to have no vicarious interest in specifics. Andi comforted herself with the knowledge that even if the two men came to view one another as competitors for her attention, the nature of their pitching specialties ensured they'd never be competitors on the ball field. In spite of that distinction, she didn't expect a complete absence of tension. Humans were, by their very natures, territorial creatures.

  The team's triumphant return to Chicago forced Andi to finalize her plans. In a couple hours, her doorbell would be ringing, and the first two major league players ever to set foot inside of her apartment would step across its threshold. Even Jay David recognized the significance of that step, for he'd gasped into the phone when she revealed her intentions.

  "It's one small step for man," he deadpanned before she could again cut him off.

  Andi padded into the kitchen and deposited the empty bowl on the counter before continuing to the bat
hroom. Turning on the shower, she shrugged out of her robe. Auto-pilot fully engaged, she scrubbed, smoothed, shampooed, and shaved, taking comfort in the routine. A comfort shattered when it came time to dress.

  She prided herself on her knowledge of men—men in general and individual men in specific. Those details paralyzed her. She stood naked in front of her lingerie drawer, locked in indecision. Eric preferred red, while Brad loved her in purple. She didn't intend for either of them to see what color underthings she was wearing, but she felt the choice important in a symbolic way. Three times she reached for a neutral color, and three times she stopped herself. It was as though she was trying to force herself to choose between them. The concept disturbed her, for she had no intention of giving either of them up.

  The fourth time she reached for something white, she didn't stop, breaking through the self doubt long enough to finish dressing. She wondered which one would arrive first as she set out three glasses and the Chardonnay in its ice-walled glass bucket. Andi actually preferred red wines, but she had never studied what went with take out Chinese. She was far too nervous to cook.

  The first time the doorbell rang, she panicked for a full ten seconds before looking at the time and realizing it was the food. Then, she berated herself for ten minutes over that ten seconds. While she certainly had ample reason to be nervous, she didn't intend to let either of them see it.

  When the doorbell rang again, she knew it was one of them. Jay David had sworn up and down that Eric would arrive first, but Andi thought otherwise. Looking out through the peephole before opening the door, she congratulated herself on a small victory over her dear friend as Brad's handsome features greeted her. He was glancing nervously toward the elevator, his unflappable game face obviously forgotten. She opened the door to let him in.