Whirlwind Romance: 10 Short Love Stories

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  He heard the wistfulness but didn’t say anything.

  She shook her head and didn’t look at him for a minute. “One good day might be enough to make people remember. And it’s crazy, but I thought maybe a good day — with customers all over and a ballplayer there — might jolt Dad into caring a little more.”

  She turned to him then. “The doctor thinks a lot of what Dad says he can’t do is really what he doesn’t want to do. We hate leaving him on his own so much, but he’s got Hank, and the store — ”

  “Is a handful.”

  “Yes. Especially since my mother and I had limited experience with business when we had to take over.” She smiled slightly. “Talk about understatements. Luckily my father had surrounded himself with good people. He founded the store just before he retired — which is good, because after his stroke, he just threw it all away.”

  “You sound angry, Mandy.” Josh frowned. “On the one hand, you have this grand plan to help him, and on the other — ”

  She shifted and toyed with the hem of her Dad Warner’s jersey. Baseball player or not, something about him promised understanding. “He brought it all on himself,” she explained flatly, striving not to sound bitter. Or helpless. “He’d been cheating on my mom, and when the truth finally came out — well, it truly did hurt him more than us.” She blinked as her eyes burned, unwilling to shed a tear for anyone, afraid that if she cried, Josh would wrap her in his arms to comfort her, and she couldn’t let herself burden him with her misery. She shrugged. “He’s my dad, and helping him could only help my mom, too.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “Mandy, I don’t know if I can do it. Even if I want to help — my agent would be upset, bad precedent and all. And then, the timing is just awful. Tomorrow’s a travel day, then — ”

  “Road trip for nine days. I know.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Not a fan, huh?”

  “No, I’m not. But I checked. I know I’m asking a lot.” Mandy stood up and picked up her plate. “Are you finished eating?”

  He stood, too, and picked up his plate and the mayonnaise. “You know,” he said, with a quick smile, “if it’s attention you want for the store, we should just start dating.”

  “What?”

  “Look what happened this afternoon. Imagine if we went to a restaurant or something? You could wear that dress. There could be a wardrobe malfunction — ”

  “You’re not going to let it go, are you?” Mandy grabbed the leftover items and stalked toward the kitchen door.

  “Sorry,” he said, sounding entirely unrepentant behind her. “Tell you what, I won’t mention it again. But you can’t expect me to forget it.”

  She snorted and reached to rinse off the plates. “Yeah. Cause I made a much bigger impression than — ”

  “Big boobs?” he teased, the dimples flashing. “Bad joke,” he added, holding up a placating hand. “Look, Mandy, I’m not being conceited, but I get that all the time with the shirts. Sometimes more intimate things. Even purses, so I’ll have phone numbers and addresses.” He winked, then took the plate from her and opened a dishwasher.

  “So, you’ll remember me because?”

  “It’s not every day some kid in the wrong team’s shirt tells me I don’t impress her.” He laughed, nodding at the Red Sox jersey she was wearing as part of her work uniform. “Or smuggles me out of the very store she wants me to attract attention to.”

  He leaned against the counter, all muscle and good humor. Hard-bodied and soft-hearted. Mandy bit her lip and hoped he couldn’t read her mind.

  “You’re so — ” he stopped, apparently not sure what she was or how to describe her without offending her. “Awkwardly intense,” he finished at last.

  “Do you need me to drive you back to the store?” she asked, after a moment. No point in pushing the man when he’d said he couldn’t.

  He shook his head. “Taken care of. My brother’s bringing the car to me later; he already picked it up. Look, Mandy, the only time I might be able to stop by for a couple of hours would be the Monday after our next homestand. But that’s almost the end of the season, and — let me see how this trip goes, okay? If I think I can, I’ll call so you can advertise and arrange security.”

  Advertising she’d thought of. Security? Nope. She nodded. “Thanks, Josh. For at least thinking about it.” She managed a small smile.

  He fished in his pocket for his cell phone. “Give me your number,” he ordered and keyed it in.

  Together they walked to the door, and he stepped outside with her. “Mandy, it’s been a really … strange afternoon,” he told her, smiling. “Strange but fun. Drive home safely.”

  Great. Had my driving scared him? She didn’t answer him, just gave a jerky little nod and fished her keys out of her pocket.

  “I really will call,” he shouted, as she climbed into the truck, and she waved, rolled her window up, and headed home.

  Chapter Three

  Days later, Josh hadn’t yet called her, but he couldn’t quit thinking about Mandy and wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t lied; other women had shown more and offered more. Mandy’s apparent sadness and troubled devotion to her family touched him. He frowned. She wasn’t out for an affair like so many of the women in his life since he started playing. Even college baseball apparently had been an aphrodisiac, and he’d enjoyed being pursued, though he’d been careful not to lose his chance at the majors. When he turned pro, he’d toyed with settling down, thinking he’d found love twice with beautiful women other men coveted. None had captivated him like Mandy.

  Thinking of her wasn’t helping his stats any. The Scorpions lost their next two games, and even if baseball was a team effort, he felt he’d let everyone down personally, striking out and hitting into two double plays with bases loaded. Hotstuff was more lukewarm these days.

  So, late one night at the hotel when he couldn’t sleep, he tapped in her number and hoped he wouldn’t wake her up.

  She answered immediately, surprised. “Josh?”

  “Told you I’d call.” He smiled, making a mountain of pillows behind him so he could prop himself upright. Across the room, Benton slept, or pretended to. He never knew, but usually he only called family. He’d have to be discreet.

  “So … what are you wearing?” he whispered.

  On the other end, Mandy’s indignant squeal made him chuckle. Across the room, Benton’s shoulders shook under the sheet. He hurled one of the pillows, wishing it were a ball. The shoulders went still, followed by a long, fake snore.

  He turned his attention back to Mandy.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “Sort of.”

  “After tonight’s game, you should be,” Mandy retorted.

  “I didn’t think you watched us.”

  “It’s kind of hard not to,” she muttered. “Every TV in the city has the game on every time you play.”

  “We’re heroes.”

  “Uh — no. Yesterday, you were heroes; anyone can lose a game. Tonight, you’re dogs. Especially you.”

  She probably wasn’t kidding. The Scorpions were a new team who’d enjoyed immediate success, so sudden failure wouldn’t mollify any of the fans who’d spent a fortune on new taxes for facilities, tickets, merchandise. Sometimes he missed the good times when he’d played in a city park with his cousins down in Veracruz, Mexico. No money on the line, just skills shared and honed.

  “I’m hurt,” he protested. “We had a couple of bad games, but we’re only one back — think of the splash we’ll make if we don’t clinch until we get home.”

  Kindly, Mandy didn’t point out that if they kept falling behind, the clinching would have to wait for at least a year.

  “So … what can I do for you, Josh?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes briefly. He’d been so careful recently. Hadn’t been wit
h anyone since his last girlfriend had humiliated him in public and threw him away after taking way too much of his time and money. The season would end soon, and he’d be alone. Sure, he could fill the time with pointless diversions, but Mandy offered — he didn’t know what Mandy offered, and it was driving him crazy. Just sex? The thought stole his breath for a moment. The next thought hit him harder. The love he’d thought he’d found and hadn’t?

  He pulled himself together. “Mandy, I keep turning over this visit thing. I don’t think a formal arrangement is going to work — what if you spend money advertising and the team calls us in that day? We’re bound to have at least practice — and press ops — and who knows what else.”

  He heard the sigh on the other end, muffled, but discouraged. He wanted to be in the room with her, to hug her … hugging would lead to more, though. And thinking of anything more right now, when they were half a country and a climatic stretch run apart, wasn’t good. Despite knowing and acknowledging that fact, his mind started to wander anyway. He could picture Mandy in her bedroom, pictured himself pressing her down on that messy bed …

  “Josh, am I interrupting something? You called me, but — I don’t know, you seem distracted.”

  “Sorry,” he blurted without thinking, “I was just imagining you in bed — “ Oh, hell! “Uh, on your bed, I mean — it’s, um … you have a nice room.”

  “You saw my bed?” Mandy said, a few seconds later. She sounded squeaky again. Or maybe a little breathless; he didn’t know her well enough to be sure.

  “Your father sent me upstairs to see if you were there when I returned your purse,” he admitted. Great, now he sounded like some kind of creepy stalker.

  “Oh. Uh, okay,” she said, eventually, sounding flustered. “Well, um, thanks for considering — ”

  “Wait, sorry. Let me finish. I still think the dating thing could work.” His offer was met with resounding silence for a good 30 seconds. “Mandy?” he prompted finally.

  “I don’t date ballplayers,” she said, her tone frosty, and hung up.

  He sat frozen in shock until the dial tone clicked in. She’d hung up on him? She didn’t date ballplayers?

  He flipped the phone onto the nightstand and paced around the room, rubbing a hand through his hair. Temper and a lack of sleep tempted him to say a few choice words, but he didn’t.

  As the momentary anger over being hung up on eased, worry niggled. She’d told him her father had cheated. Okay, he got that — it would have hurt. But enough to make her avoid everyone with a glove and a number on his back?

  He took one more turn around the room, determined to find out why Mandy wanted his help but not at the cost of a relationship — even a pretend relationship to generate a little publicity for her family’s failing business.

  “Hey, Arrevalos, give it up. I need my sleep,” Benton groused, and so he lay down and stared at the ceiling until thoughts of Mandy faded into restless sleep.

  • • •

  Four days later, Mandy shivered with excitement as she clicked off the end of the game. The Scorpions had turned the road trip around and were a half game behind their nearest rivals — and ahead in the wild card standings. They’d be back in town on Wednesday.

  Okay, so she’d declared herself not a fan, but winners were exciting. Her smile faded. Josh was exciting. He’d been on a tear the last few games, and now everyone wanted him again. In spite of everything, he’d tried to help her. And she’d hung up on him.

  The glimmer of bright red on her bed caught her eye. Her cell phone. Impulsively, she snatched it up and dialed Josh’s number. He probably wouldn’t answer. He probably was still making his way to the locker room. She should probably just —

  He answered right away. “Mandy?” His tone held surprise.

  “Hi. I’m sorry about hanging up on you like that. I wanted to call to apologize.” She could hear noise of celebration behind him, but Josh remained silent. Mandy plucked up her confidence and barreled on, “And to congratulate you on the game — especially the homerun!”

  “You watched?” He sounded even more surprised now, but there was a hint more warmth in his voice.

  “Maybe you’ll make a fan out of me yet,” she joked. “It was a great shot.”

  “I enjoyed that,” he admitted. “I enjoy them all, but hitting one off that Skypes everyone’s talking about … ”

  Mandy sat down on the edge of the bed, remembering, not wanting to. “I hear that pitcher’s running around with the actress from the new zombie movie.”

  “I don’t listen to the gossip, but he’s an ass.”

  “Tell me. My sister dated him,” Mandy muttered.

  “Your sister?” he prodded, surprised.

  She wanted to tell him, but just the thought of it was exhausting. She shook her head, even knowing he couldn’t see her do it. “It’s a really long story, and it’s late. You probably want to celebrate with the team anyway. Maybe when y’all get home — ”

  “No. Wait, hold on a sec.” She heard muffled sounds through the receiver, and then the noise of the crowd fell away, replaced by silence.

  “Ok, that’s better.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Uh, broom closet?”

  She grinned, picturing Hotstuff Arrevalos crammed into a tiny closet just to take her call.

  “Tell me now,” he coaxed. “Trust me a little, Mandy. This sister — ”

  “Shelley.” She took a breath.

  “You were close?”

  “Of course! She’s my sister.” Mandy’s throat clenched. “Or was.”

  “So what happened to her?” he asked gently, then his voice turned sharper, almost menacing. “Did that jerk, Skypes, hurt her?”

  Mandy stood, agitated, her fingers tightening around the phone as she walked over to the window to peer out into darkness. “They met at college. He’d started at UT and was the Longhorns’ next big star. But apparently he got busted for a cheating scandal, lost his scholarship and wound up at the community college over in El Paso.”

  “And Shelley was there?”

  “We never did figure out why, but she insisted she had a connection to the city.” Mandy chuckled softly, remembering. “Mom and I told her she just created a connection from that old Marty Robbins’ country song of the same name.”

  She tucked the phone under her chin and untied the sash, letting the lace curtains fall across the widow, shutting out the night.

  They were both quiet for a minute, before Josh asked, “So … he was always a jerk?”

  Mandy’s derisive snort answered the question. “Like no other jerk around! He treated her like dirt. Always ordering her around, making her wait on him hand and foot. Shelley’s so beautiful, Josh — well, I haven’t seen her in eight years. But she turned heads everywhere. She could have had anyone — and she wanted him!”

  “Wow. Must have been tough. Were your folks on board with the relationship?”

  “No. Especially when they found out Shelley was bankrolling him. She’d worked for the store forever and had a college fund, a salary — he didn’t pay for a thing. She’d try to hide it, but he sponged off her all that summer — she even ‘borrowed’ money from the store to buy him a car.” She sighed. “Mom wanted to leave them alone. She and Dad would fight over it. She kept saying Shelley was too smart to stay in a bad situation, but that if they confronted her, she’d just push the envelope — go further faster than anyone wanted. ”

  Silence greeted her. She wondered if she was boring him, but he had brought up the subject, hadn’t he? And the years of bearing the hurt in silence suddenly found voice.

  “Still there?” she asked lightly, trying to let him off the hook if he never wanted to hear another word about Shelley.

  “Thinking that my mom did the same thing — fought with my
sis like you wouldn’t believe. Dad told her the same thing your Mom said.” He paused, before adding almost apologetically. “My sister and her guy have been married almost nine years now.”

  “I’m glad for them,” Mandy said, sincerely. “Love stories need happy endings these days. Doesn’t always happen.”

  “I guess not for Shelley and Skypes.”

  “When she left home with him, I hoped Mom and Dad would be proven wrong. But, I thought he loved her. Guess not since he’s clearly moved on.”

  “And you haven’t seen her since?”

  The sympathy in his voice undid her, almost as if he were in the room with her.

  She swallowed hard. “No. That was eight years ago. She’s never been in touch. Mom talked about looking for her, but so much happened when Dad had his stroke, and the years just kept slipping by.” Her head dipped, and she almost dropped the phone. “I told myself she threw me away, that I’d never speak to her again.”

  “But you would.” No question in Josh’s voice, just quiet assurance.

  “Yes.” She caught a corner of her pillowcase and dabbed away the tears she couldn’t hold back.

  His sigh whispered into the room. “Wish I were there, Mandy. To hold you.”

  Her throat thickened with emotion, even though she knew he was just being a good friend. Several seconds crawled past before she could recover enough to acknowledge his concern. “Thanks, Josh.” She drew in a deep breath. “I never wanted to talk about this again, but tonight … well, you made me feel better.”

  “I’m glad.” He was silent for a moment. “So, how are things with Team Warner? Business any better?”

  “Not a lot. We bought some Scorpions’ shirts,” she told him, smiling a little. “Haven’t seen much of a difference, to be honest.”

  “That’s pretty much a no-brainer, though,” Josh blustered, and she knew he was grinning, with that teasing light in his eyes. “Honey, the shirt’s not the thing; it’s the player inside the shirt.”