by Ana Shay
I pressed ignore, shoving my phone back in my pocket. A satisfied smirk grew on my face knowing I’ve solved a bunch of Cali’s problems with just an hour of my time. Now I needed to deal with the fact our relationship could be exposed in the media.
Chapter 19
“Are you okay? You look kind of pale, and your left eye is twitching again.” Mary whispered, sneaking into my cubicle. She flicked one of Tate’s bobbleheads and laughed to herself as she leaned against my desk.
Keeping my eyes trained on my computer, I said, “I’m fine,” ignoring her glare. Being my best friend for all these years, she knows something’s wrong, and she knows she’ll get it out of me if I look at her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her head tilting, trying to get a better view of my face. “Cali. I know you better than you know yourself. What’s up.” Well, isn’t that a loaded question? The answer is pretty pathetic too.
Instead of responding, I reached over and lobbed a few magazines her way. They were seemingly left on my desk this morning. On any typical day, that’s not a big deal. I’ve been asked to read some of the stories in those before just in case there’s anything about the players. Today’s magazines, though, well, they had my heart beating faster than a priest in a strip bar. Suffice to say. I nearly hurled into my trash can.
Mary inspected the covers, reading the headlines aloud. “Sam Vine will do anything to get Tate back.” She threw that one to the side and looked at the next magazine. “Tate’s rebound blonde.” She mused on that one. “Is that you?” She pointed to the blurry shot of Tate smiling at said blonde. I nodded. Flipping to another. “Tate’s Revenge, Tate and Sam, back together?” She read off a few more headlines, but I didn’t bother listening. I’d already memorized them from earlier. Sam fighting for her man. When will Tate end this rebound? Sam & Tate, True Love! Tate goes back. Tate threatens Leitch. Leitch out of love. All annoying and all were irking me in ways I couldn’t describe. Tate warned me there were photos of us on the internet, but I didn’t expect to end up in magazines. Thank goodness it was only the back of my head and not my face because then the whole office would know it was me. That’s something I’m still not ready for.
I admit some of those headlines sounded unbelievable since he was texting me all the time, but photos don’t lie, and those photos show them together. “Who left these on your desk?” She asked curiously.
“It wasn’t you?” I was kind of hoping it was, considering she’s the only one who’s supposed to know about Tate and me. She shook her head.
My eyes darted around the room, watching people’s reactions. “Maybe it was one of the PR guys. You are the one who looks after the tabloid stories after all.” She said, trying to calm me down.
My hands trembled because not only was I worried about the headlines, I was now concerned someone in the office knew about Tate and me. I tapped the keyboard a little harder than necessary to release some of the pent-up energy.
Mary flicked through the pages of one of the magazines, reading a few paragraphs of the article. “This is all so ridiculous. It’s just a bunch of made-up stories.”
I lifted my brows and stared at her. “His ex-fiancée wants him back.” I emphasized, grabbing one of the magazines and flicking to the article. “Look. There’s a picture of them together. Hugging. And then they’re saying he’s seeing me to make her jealous.” I was doing my best to be rational. Even reasonable. But the idea that he’s been seeing her, behind my back, kind of sucked.
I stared down at the glossy paper, and Sam’s gorgeous face smiled back. Her perfectly tanned and toned body was in the skimpiest bikini I’d ever seen. I felt like a scruffy teenager compared to her. Especially with my greased-up hair and sweaty back that seemed to be a permanent fixture these days. I didn’t bother showering, knowing that I would be Catty later and would have to shower after that anyway.
When I was in college, I used to love Sam’s posts on Instagram because she was constantly posting pictures of Tate topless, a lot of those making my home calendar. But after a year, I unfollowed her when it became clear she was more obsessed with fame and followers and didn’t have a clue about baseball. The photos were less of Tate and more of her posing while her lips got bigger and her forehead less creased.
“Isn’t she dating that hottie, Theo Leitch, now?” Mary said. She’s already flipped the page, reading a different article about some woman who’s in love with a hamster and completely ignoring my predicament.
“Clearly, you didn’t you read the full article? She’s thinking that maybe she made the wrong decision and has been contacting Tate to get back with the guy who truly loves her.”
Mary snorted. “Maybe you should write these articles. You’re good at making up crap.” I stared at her, long and hard. She put the magazine down, placing her hand over mine. “Come on, Cali. Over half the stuff is made up in here.” She pointed at another headline. “This woman thinks she gave birth to a puppy.” I wanted to laugh because she was probably right, but it was more the fact that all of them have the same story, and in each story, I’m the loser. The one he doesn’t care about. No smoke without fire, and all that. “Have you asked Tate?”
I played with my lips. “No. I only found out this morning.”
She shrugged, looking nonchalant. “So, don’t freak out. Speak to Tate first, then freak out if you need to.”
I sighed, clicking out of my inbox. “You’re probably right. I’m probably freaking out over nothing. Happens on days I’ve got to dress as a giant fish.”
“That’s most days then.”
“Yup. Pretty much.”
Lumbering into the locker room, I’m chafing everywhere and slightly disturbed with the amount of sweat my costume has absorbed. Do we get this thing dry cleaned? I hope so. Otherwise, it’s not going to be pleasant when I have to wear this thing tomorrow. Maybe the stench will add to it. Give it a bit more fishy realism. Urgh, I don’t want to think about this right now. All I want to do is get this damn costume off and take a nice cold shower.
As if it couldn’t smell worse in my little mascot prison, the stench of the locker room penetrates its furry barriers. Admittedly, it’s usually ripe in here straight after a game; but today is different. The 90-degree heat took us all by surprise because the stadium was like a magnifying glass, filtering in the heat. I nearly fainted on a child due to a lack of ventilation in my costume. Poor Mary had to rush me to the bathroom and soak my head under the faucet just to get me through the game.
The players, having just showered, walked around me, and I do my best to keep my focus on the exit. It’s not like they walk around with their dongs out or anything. It’s just last time I wasn’t so vigilant. I may have accidently seen flashes of flesh I wasn’t supposed to, and the high-pitched yelp nearly gave my identity away. They all still think it’s Tim under here, and I’d like to keep it that way until I figure out how to tell Tate that I’ve been inadvertently spying on him the whole time. I should just do it. Rip it off like a band-aid.
A couple of the outfielders high-five me as they walk past singing. They’ve just cemented an 8-game winning streak with their win today, so it’s no wonder they’re in such a great mood. My heart flutters as Tate walked past me, giving me a wink. Even sweaty and dressed as a fish, Tate can somehow make me feel like I’m the only person he sees. Or, half-person, half-fish.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him since he got back from his away trip. To say I missed him would be an understatement. We’ve been texting, but nothing is the same or as magical as when he’s here, with that rare ability of his to suck up all the air in a room. Even when I’m annoyed at him about potentially seeing his ex, he still has a way of squeezing my heart.
As he sits down to untie his shoes, I find myself watching, wishing it were just us in here. Firstly, so I could ask him about all those Sam rumors, and secondly, so I could unwrap him like my favorite chocolate bar. Then I remember how much I stink and that although it might be sexy
for all of two minutes, my stench might make Tate pass out. Plus, he might not be as accepting of Catty’s advances as mine.
Grayson walked smugly in, giving me a heavy slap on the back as he goes. He barely had an ounce of sweat on him because he’d been out of the game for the last three innings, throwing less than 90 pitches to get 21 outs. The guy is a freak of nature. That reminds me, I should pester Tate for that pitching session he would arrange for Penn.
“Tate.” Grayson chuckled, leaning on the locker across from him. “What’s all this stuff about you getting back with Sam?” The question made me stop in my tracks. Insecurity flared through my veins, especially after all those articles I read. Even though I’m the one he’s texting the minute he’s off the field or alone in his hotel room, pathetically, I wanted to know the answer to it.
I stood by the door leading to the other changing rooms waiting for his response. “Nothing.” Was all he grumbled out. That wasn’t good enough to settle my nerves. It sounded like he said that just to get Grayson off his back.
“Are you sure about that?” Grayson snorted, kicking Tate playfully while Tate rubbed his face with the towel, doing his best to ignore his friend. “Looks like she wants another round after seeing your new side piece.”
I realized I was just standing there watching the two of them with my big googly eyes and needed to at least pretend I was in here for a reason other than eavesdropping. I grabbed a towel and started to wipe down my scaly body. Since I sweated so much, I wouldn’t be surprised if it permeated through to the outside fabric.
My eyes were focused solely on Tate, trying to gauge his reaction through my sweat-filled haze. Even though the room was air-conditioned, sweat was still dripping from my brow, and since I couldn’t wipe it off, it dripped down to my eyelashes. I know. Gross. I still need to sort out this whole internal fan situation out when I have some time.
“It’s not going to happen.” He said it with so much spite, I could hear it through my suit. Why did that make me so deliriously happy and treacherous at the same time?
Austin came into view, just wearing a towel around his waist, and opened his locker. “What about that pretty marketing girl? I thought you were dating her?” He asked, and I smiled. Maybe he has talked about me. I know I didn’t want people in my team to know, but he’s with those guys 24/7. It’s nice to know that maybe there’s some slight mention of me.
Pulling his shoes off, Tate quipped. “Yup.” Silence. Yup? That’s it? I’m just a Yup. No ‘She’s so great I forgot Sam’s name?’
Grayson barked out a laugh. “You’re still dating her?” He shook his head, and I wanted to slap him around the face with my fishy fin. “Isn’t she afraid of Sam?” He prodded. When Tate said nothing, he continued, “I thought she was just a pump’n’dump?” My heart stilled. That was it. What if my instincts were right all along? That he’s a lothario, and he just wanted to get me into bed. Surely, it doesn’t make sense, though. He’s already had me, and he’s still as persistent. Maybe he was waiting for Sam to make a bigger gesture before he decides to go back to her. What if she’d convinced him now, and he’s just trying to figure out a way to dump me that wouldn’t embarrass me.
I shook my head, annoyed. I’ve tortured myself too long listening to this. I need out. I dropped the towel to the floor and headed straight for the door. As I was slithering out, I regrettably heard Grayson say, “You should get back with Sam. You were a fool to let that hot piece of ass go.”
I don’t know if they noticed how hard I slammed the door, but I was annoyed and needed to get out of there. Thankfully, the ladies' locker room was always empty on game day. It’s only ever used on off days when the softball team plays here. The quiet consumed my thoughts as I peeled out of the now sticky fabric. It landed on the floor with a thump, and I quickly walked to the showers hoping the cool water would give me some respite.
It didn’t seem to work, unfortunately. As I showered and dressed, I kept replaying Grayson and Tate’s conversation in my head over and over. There were no hints from him that I was anything more than a casual lay, which made me nervous. What if I was just a conquest for Tate? A way to get his mind off Sam for a little while. What if all those nice things he said and did were just so he could get in my pants? It’s not like I made him wait long. Hell, I’ve put my entire job at risk letting him eat me out on my desk. I shook my head. What a stupid thing to do. If we got caught, I would have been fired, my reputation ruined, and he would have gotten a pat on the back. I hated to think of what would have happened if it ended up in the tabloids like those pictures of us hugging in the parking lot. My brother and my parents would be so embarrassed.
Pushing all those thoughts away and I hurried upstairs, fully expecting to have an inbox full of work that would be more than enough to distract me for the night. I frowned because when I got to my desk, there were hardly any emails. None needed to be urgently finished today, and my body deflated. If I’ve got nothing to finish tonight, then I have time to think about Tate or even see him. Not something I want to do right now. Tate’s face flashed across my phone.
Tate: Missed you. Want to meet tonight?
My head was scrambling. I didn’t want to ignore him, but then again, I didn’t want to see him either. Not just yet. I needed time to think. To get my head straight.
Cali: Can’t tonight. I’ve got dinner plans with Mary.
I sent it before I could regret it and started striding towards her desk. “Mary,” I called, and she popped her head up like a meerkat does in those nature documentaries. “Are you around for a bite to eat tonight?”
Her eyes darted from side to side. “What’s the catch? You haven’t been free for dinner since you started here.” She asked with furrowed brows.
I shrugged. “All the stuff in my inbox can wait until tomorrow.”
“Um, okay. Let me just shut down my stuff, and we’ll go.”
“Great.” I jumped on my heels, heading back to my desk with a smile on my face. One night down on my avoid Tate mission. Only a few more days, and then he’s back on the road for a week. That should give me plenty of time to figure everything out and see where the chips may fall with Sam.
Chapter 20
Swallowing the beer, I thanked the waitress when she dropped the plate of ribs in front of me. After a particularly rough away game against Atlanta, we were having dinner, and I needed this piece of meat to feel better. “Can I technically vote for myself in the all-star ballot?” Austin asked without a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“Even if you voted for yourself every hour of every day, you still wouldn’t reach the numbers to get on the team,” Grayson said bluntly. “Sorry, Rookie, but I played six years in the league before they finally recognized my brilliance enough to vote me in.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ignore him, Austin. I didn’t make the All-Stars until a few years ago. Even now, it’s not guaranteed because it’s who the fans vote for. I could be having the best year of my life, but if no one likes me, well, then it ain’t happening.” I leave out the fact that the PR team chooses which pony to back, and this year, it’s Grayson and me. I’ve been hounded by them to get these negative stories about a love square (i.e., Me, Cali, Theo, and Sam) out of the papers to make room for some positive press. If I can’t get on the All-Star team, we’ll only have Grayson to represent us as hosts. It’s not like fans actually like Grayson. He’s got a cocky attitude and a habit of ticking off other fanbases, which means he only gets votes from the team he plays on. He knows that, and like most things in this world, he doesn’t care because he likes infamy.
“Aww, are you worried all the furor about you and Sam is getting in the way of the fans voting for you?” Grayson chortled, his eyes tracking a waitress’s ass as she walked by. He was blatant but didn’t care.
My gaze flicked up to the screen, and the Carolina Jaguars were playing. As if I didn’t need further reminding of her tonight. “I already told you. I’m not interested in Sam. Was hardly interest
ed in her when we were dating.” Grayson opened his mouth to say something. I already knew the answer. “And yes, if she showed up naked at your door, I wouldn’t care. You could have her.”
Grayson’s smiled stilled for just a second. I think he was hoping to catch me out. It took Cali walking into my life to realize that I never cared about Sam. Not in any way that mattered. I wouldn’t donate part of my salary to her and ten other people just to make sure she got paid, that’s for sure.
That reminds me. I need to follow up on if she’s started to get paid because Cali hasn’t mentioned it. She hasn’t mentioned much at all recently. In fact, since the day I donated it, she hasn’t had time to see me. Still too busy.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You’re in love with that marketing chick.” He teased, unimpressed. The guy wouldn’t know love if it punched him in the face and left a bruise the size of Texas.
“What does Cali think about all the articles?” Austin asked.
That’s a good question. It’s something I wanted to bring up with her. At first, there were only a few, and I thought it would die down, but Sam’s been calling the media, feeding them lies about secret meet-ups we’re apparently having. My agent keeps getting calls, asking to verify stories which he denies, of course, but it doesn’t stop her from calling the press on herself. She’s been doing bat shit crazy things like driving to my apartment block and staging shots of her walking out just to keep the momentum of the story up. That reminds me, I need to get them to change the damn gate code. She even staged a photo outside my bar, ‘Tate’s Tavern.’ The desperation on her part to make it look like there’s some double play going on is unreal. Apparently, she’s doing such a good job that I even got a threatening message from Theo. The dude’s an idiot if he falls for what she has in store. The only good thing about all those staged shots is that the media has put less emphasis on trying to find out who the girl is in the parking lot pictures, which means Cali’s dignity is safe.