Trouble With the Curve (Learning Curve #2)

by Felicia Lynn

  “Mama Sue, thank you for asking me. It really means a lot that you called me to help out,” I tell her, meaning it completely.

  “Love you, Charlie girl. See you soon,” she replies after a heavy pause, and then she disconnects.

  It really makes me feel good to be needed by the people I consider family. The Taylors have never hesitated to jump anytime I’ve needed anything, but it’s not often I’m able to reciprocate. Plus, since I’m family now, they don’t ever let me pay for my meals at the restaurant anymore. It’s long overdue for me to do my part in the family business.

  I send a quick text to Tyler, letting him know the plan and inviting him to come up and hang out later. I’ll probably be mostly helping Jamie out on the pub side of the restaurant. Ty can watch a game there while I work so he won’t be hanging out home alone and stressing about tomorrow. He’ll have a belly full of good food, a beer or two, and a side order of kisses from his fiancée. That should be a good incentive.

  He won’t get my text for a while, so I don’t wait for a reply before going upstairs to change. He’s on the field, and I’m sure his phone is in the locker, but there’s no doubt I’ll see him when he’s done, probably with a couple of the guys. Hopefully, he’ll text me before he heads that way so I can save them a booth.

  He decided at the last minute to go work out with the team. It’s an informal practice, but I think he was getting antsy being out of his routine. The season is over, but for obvious reasons, the guys need to stay in shape. Even though Ty’s not on the team anymore, he’s still part of the club as long as he’s around and jumped at the chance to work out with the guys.

  We spent the whole day yesterday at home, in bed or on the couch. It was a great day, but we’re both used to being busy. A day being lazy together is nice, specifically when a good bit of the time was spent without clothes, but it’s definitely not something either of us would want to get used to, especially Ty.

  Ty is in amazing shape. He says he’s in the best shape of his life due to our excessive bedroom activities and the extra run he takes with me on most days. He’s full of it, but it’s sweet that he gives me that credit. He can definitely endure more than I can, but he’s conditioned his body for more rigor.

  Our run together last night was the only exception to us leaving the house, and we followed it up with an active shower and more time between the sheets. For me, it was a fantastic workout, and I was exhausted. The pace of my run is more on the casual stroll scale for Ty, though, but he always wants to go with me anyway. A couple of months ago, he even requested we make that something we do together each day, so we run together most mornings, and I love it.

  Until two days ago, I thought our runs together were Ty’s way of connecting and making sure we spent quality time together. I was wrong. I definitely gave him more credit for that sweetness than he really deserved.

  I’m not sure how I didn’t put the pieces together and never realized Mr. Attention Seeker and my hotshot baseball boy was the same person. I guess I was so swept away by Ty and all the other stuff happening that it never crossed my mind again. In hindsight, I can’t believe how obvious it was, but the reality of it is I never thought much about that asshole after that day.

  When I was changing into running clothes last night, I found myself bent over the corner chair in our room by my mischievous fiancé. He said he’d been waiting a long time to fulfill his public service duty of teaching me a lesson. When I run, even with Ty, I like to listen to music and not chat. My running music is motivating, and I’ve carefully selected all the songs for a reason. They are not just random tunes. More than that, it’s a quiet time when I can think and organize my thoughts.

  Apparently when I run, I’m not so good about paying attention to my surroundings. I suspect I’ve instinctively gotten a little better about that since the day I ran across Mr. Attention Seeker, but Ty disagrees. How would he know anyway since I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been running without him in the last couple of months? Nonetheless, he got in a couple of good smacks on my backside before I came out of the shock and lost it.

  “Why the hell is this just coming up now? If you thought that lesson was so important, you shouldn’t have waited this long to talk about it, Ty. And notice the key word in that sentence, TALK,” I asked him point-blank and totally pissed. My hands on my hips, I stood glowering in front of him only half dressed.

  He thought he was funny and was clearly enjoying the show. His eyes hungrily scanned my body while I stood angrily, waiting for an answer. “The lesson became irrelevant once we were together, buttercup. I figured out early on that you escape into your head when you’re pounding the pavement. It’s a common occurrence even when we’re together. That shit didn’t sit well with me, and I worried, so I always make sure we run together. That way I can keep an eye on you. The bonus to that plan is seeing your fuck-me hot body get all sweaty in these tight clothes, and then getting to strip them off you to shower together,” he told me confidently, looking at me like I should appreciate him for his sacrifice.

  The answer I got was not the one I wanted, and it only fed my annoyance. “Tyler Stone, YOU are a verifiable asshole.” I’m not sure how he was expecting me to respond, but I’m sure it was with a favor of the sexual kind while expressing my thanks. That didn’t happen. I love the man, but I’m not sucking up to him.

  “But I’m YOUR verifiable asshole, buttercup. And I love YOU.” He got the cold shoulder for the entire run, and I tried to extend it into our evening when we returned later. That, I’ll admit, didn’t work because Tyler is creative. Carrying me kicking and screaming over his shoulder, up the stairs, and into the shower fully clothed, he really has a way of clearing the cobwebs.

  I had got over it before the shower was over. Clearly, a little separation from our togetherness might do us a little good or at least keep me from killing him before I ever get the chance to marry the man.

  I walk out of the house, lock up, and get in my car to head toward George’s. I’m excited to fulfill my familial obligation because I was asked to be there and not because I showed up and put myself to work just trying to fit in. Everything about this makes me happy.

  I’m becoming more and more comfortable and settled in my life now that I’m actually driving it. I’m a responsible adult, making my own decisions without having to answer to anyone except for my bossy fiancé at times. I can handle him just fine, though. I really, really love my life.

  I HAVEN’T WORKED OUT hard for three days, and I haven’t practiced with the team in over two weeks. I needed this today, and I’m glad Jackson called. I was about to crawl out of my skin today after reading the email from my advisor and soon-to-be agent—if I get signed tomorrow. I think Charlie knew it too.

  When she heard me on the phone talking to Jackson about coming out today, she looked relieved. I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about me leaving her for the afternoon. I’ve never asked a chick to marry me and made it official with a ring and everything, so I wasn’t sure if there was a requirement for alone time to consummate the official engagement. When I told her that, she looked like she might try to kill me if I didn’t get out of her hair.

  Jackson probably knew it too. I suspect Scott made a call and put the ball in motion to get me on the field today. Jackson had a good sales pitch, telling me the guys are at the end-of-season slump, and they could really use my asshole-like nature to give the team a little boost. He wasn’t wrong, though. We’re all in the end-of-season slump, but me being there certainly couldn’t fix that.

  This just goes with the territory of living for the game. I guess my priorities have changed a little, though. My stress isn’t so much the slump as it is the pressure of everything happening at once. Things aren’t all bad. Just hectic. I already feel like I’ve just had a four-hour attitude adjustment.

  Fortunately, my plans with Charlie worked out without a hitch. Now, my girl and I just have to get through the draft tomorrow. Whatever happens the
n will dictate a bunch of other important stuff that will impact our lives. At the end of the day, two of us are in this life now. We’ll make the decisions we need to together.

  Scott’s been busy talking to clubs, but I’m getting overwhelmed with all the details since nothing is a sure thing; at this point, it’s just talks of interest. I know what to expect as much as any person can in a draft situation, which is not much. I know that my chances for selection are good, but right now, I don’t want to hear any more.

  Tomorrow, I’ll show up at George’s with Charlie. We’ll smile for the cameras, do what we’re supposed to, and wait for the selections to be called in. I wanted to tell them to fuck off with their cameras, but Scott said that wouldn’t work because they need to see I’m not difficult to work with. I may have laughed extensively. I am fucking difficult to work with, but name one athlete who isn’t in some way or another. We know what works for us and what doesn’t. Cameras are close to the top of my Don’t Fucking Work list.

  Scott will be next to us, and I asked Coach Jacobs to be there. I hate all the attention, and I really don’t want the cameras there, but they want a live feed from all the top prospects. Congratulations for working hard and doing a good job! Your reward is loss of privacy.

  I grab my phone out of the locker and see the text notification from Charlie. Jackson, Jason, and Bobby approach the lockers around the one I hijacked since I don’t officially have one here anymore. “Stone, wanna grab a few with us at the sports bar?” Jason asks. I toss my phone back into my bag, ignoring the notifications of texts and emails from everyone else after reading the messages from my girl.

  No way am I going to any bar other than George’s, where my girl is apparently working tonight and has promised a side order of her lips. That shit’s not on the menu for anyone else, so I need to show up and collect. I can’t help but laugh at how goofy she is sometimes.

  “Nope, heading to George’s. Charlie is working at the bar to help the Taylors. The game will be on there, and the beer’s cold, so if you want the joy of my company, you might want to go there instead. Charlie’s got a booth waiting, so that’s where I’ll be. ” I don’t even feel a little bad about not wanting to be in a random bar when I can be in a bar with better food, the same game, beer, and my girl close by.

  “All right, cool. I can do George’s. What about y’all?” Jason asks the others. Jackson agrees quickly as I knew he would. Jackson or Jax, as I call him, is one of the catchers for the team. He’s good, and I have a lot of respect for him. I’d even go as far as to say I really like the guy. It’s been great to play with him the past couple of seasons, and I know he’ll be going places with baseball as long as he stays on track.

  “Hell, yeah. Free beer. I’m in,” Bobby chimes in. I turn to him and glare.

  “The fuck? I didn’t say anything about free beer. I said cold beer and the game. You’ll pay for your shit, and you’ll tip my girl really well.” As soon as I finish the statement, I rush to clarify before he’s able to make a smart-ass comment that gets him hurt and me fucked over. “And your tip will be in the form of dollars so don’t even think about saying something stupid and starting trouble neither of us has time to deal with,” I finish. Jax smirks. He knew it was coming too, but Bobby walks away mumbling under his breath. Jason walks off laughing, telling everyone he’ll see us at George’s in a little while.

  I take my phone out of my bag again and send my girl a text telling her I’ll be up there in a few and the guys are coming with me. Then I ask what she’s wearing and if my side is ready. I’m not surprised that she doesn’t respond right away since she’s working. No problem, though. I’ll handle that when I see her in a few minutes. I hope it’s not too busy in there tonight. It’d be nice if she could sit with us and watch the game.

  As I’m walking out to the truck, I skim through my other texts and emails when I see the name. Just seeing the name on my screen heats my blood without any more reason. I wish I could say I didn’t fucking care what he had to say, but there’s power in knowing every angle of my opponents, and I refuse to fail here. Even though I don’t want to deal with this now, I won’t ignore it.

  To: Tyler Stone

  From: The office of South Carolina Governor

  Tyler,

  I appreciate your response, although to be honest, I’m concerned. I feel you have me at an obvious disadvantage with information on struggles within my family it appears I’ve not been privy to. I’m unaware of anything that’s occurred to warrant anguish for Charlotte and find it unacceptable I’ve unknowingly lacked the information necessary to repair the situation.

  Tyler, I assure you, I am a father who greatly loves and respects his daughter. I am extremely proud of Charlotte. If there are obstacles or worse complications preventing her from wanting to be a part of my family, I will get to the bottom of it and make things right. Whatever has occurred to make you and, most importantly, Charlotte feel that her happiness is not of value to me will be resolved, and my stance will be clarified.

  Charlotte’s well-being is now and will always be a top priority for me. I’d like to speak with you as soon as possible. If you don’t wish to speak with me to help me understand what is going on, I’ll understand and contact my daughter directly. However, if my daughter is upset, the knowledge of details causing her distress could prevent further damage if it can be handled delicately. I too wish to protect her.

  I can be reached anytime, night or day, at (555)123-3456. I do hope to hear from you. However, if I have not heard from you by tomorrow, I’ll assume you do not wish to assist and move forward with gathering information from Charlotte directly. Due to the sensitivity of this situation, I will not apologize for pressing and following through with the time deadline although I admit the timing is unfortunate with the MLB draft being tomorrow. I do hope you understand.

  Also, it did not go unnoticed that your email response included several other shock-worthy announcements that will be addressed once the primary concern of my daughter’s well-being has been addressed. If you meant what you said, Tyler, you and I will be having a conversation. That’s a promise. I do expect further explanation.

  Regards,

  Governor Ronald Baker

  Governor of South Carolina

  2016 US Presidential candidate

  I read the email three times, trying to comprehend what he’s saying enough for it to make sense. If I understand him correctly, which I confidently feel that I am, this man is saying he’s oblivious to the actions of his evil bitch of a wife against Charlotte. How the hell is that even possible?

  FUCK ME!

  Once I’m in the truck with some privacy, I copy the number from the email and save it in my contacts before pressing the button to place the call.

  “Tyler, thank you for calling so promptly.” It rings only once before I hear the authoritative voice greeting me.

  I probably shouldn’t be surprised the governor knew in advance that the random number displayed on his caller ID belonged to me, but I am anyway.

  “In all fairness, sir, I’m not going to tell you you’re welcome because we both know I didn’t want to call you, but I’ll do what’s necessary for Charlotte. However, if you wanted to talk and you knew how to get in touch, why not call me?” I ask. Let’s just get it all out there. I have no reason to suck up to this guy.

  “Tyler, you’re an important man in my daughter’s life. You’re also a smart man and a man who demands some semblance of control and order. I understand that trait and respect it. You had information I needed, and given the option, I knew you’d choose to call me if it was beneficial to Charlotte to do so. Had I called you directly without you accepting and understanding what I wanted to achieve, you’d have felt threatened, and my guess is I wouldn’t have received the information. I want to do right by my daughter. If accomplishing that means relinquishing a bit of the control I like to retain, I’ll do that to a man who I know cares greatly for my daughter. I’ll do whatever needs to be
done. Now, you have the upper hand here, but we both know me being in the dark with things will not help Charlotte. I’d appreciate your cooperation.”

  On a normal day, I would feel satisfaction from the governor of the state and presidential hopeful telling me I have the upper hand, but he’s Charlie’s father, and I’m not that selfish. I’d never wish for her parents not to be in her life. If they were good people who loved and respected her, I’d be fucking glad she had that. But from what I knew, they weren’t.

  With years in politics, Governor Ronald Baker knows how to disguise emotions in a conversation. I’ve watched the man do it numerous times on television in debates for the upcoming presidential election. He’s not even attempting to hide behind a mask right now. This man is laying it all on the table, so I do as well. Without censoring my words or opinions, I deliver the facts I’m aware of, hoping in doing so I’m not betraying my girl.

  ***

  After hanging up forty-five minutes later, I’m astonished. But since I told Charlie a while ago I’d see her in a minute, I’m now really fucking late. As I attempt to process the conversation, I drive.

  He didn’t fucking know. All this time, he’s thought his daughter was happy and healthy at school. He trusted his wife implicitly with managing their home and raising their daughter. He was removed from the day-to-day workings of the family life because he thought things were great. Ronald Baker was very mistaken, and it’s highly likely the guilt could eat him alive. The man is owned by his career, and he missed some very important and life-changing things happening right under his nose. I want to feel sorry for him, but knowing the hurt it’s caused my girl, I can’t. He should be sorry.