by Ward,Alice
My fists clenched, and my jaw tightened as the offense of his words fuel my anger. “She’s like a sister to me, Ace, and Whitney thinks she may be falling for you,” I blurted out.
Ace’s face turned pale. He sat up in the seat and slid one of the shot glasses towards me. “That’s fucked up, brother, it was just one week,” he said with a defeated tone I’d never heard before.
“One week is all it takes sometimes.” I gripped the glass, downed the shot at the same speed as Ace and then took a long swig of my beer.
“I never led her on,” he insisted. “Hell, I even told her not to get too close. And she said she was just looking for some fun.”
“Well, she had too much fun,” I admitted, realizing that Holly was just as much to blame for all this as Ace, maybe even more. Ace never pretended to be anything other than a player, but Holly pretended to be okay with sharing him, when all along, she was hoping to win him all to herself.
“This is why I don’t do relationships,” Ace said. “Too much fucking drama.”
He wasn’t wrong.
I lifted my arm and waved the waitress back over to the table. Her face looked strained as she tried to force a smile as she approached. I felt foolish suddenly for being such an ass, even if I had good reason. “Another round, and tell those pussies at the bar to get their tails back up here.” I motioned to Marty and Frank who were pretending to not look in the mirror across the bar at what was happening behind them.
“See, you run from relationships, but I couldn’t imagine my life without Whitney,” I admitted once the waitress was gone.
“Too much pussy to play with to settle for one. That’s like committing to one flavor of ice cream for the rest of your life,” Ace argued. He slapped me on the shoulder and let out one of his cocky chuckles that insinuated that his words were pure wisdom.
“Vanilla,” I said. His look was full of confusion as I reached under the table and into my pocket. I opened a small box that contained a large diamond ring inside, the best clarity for a 2c stone, the jeweler had said. “I could eat vanilla my entire life and never miss any other flavor, and Whitney is the only woman I need.”
Marty and Frank approached the table and started laughing their ass off. Apparently, me holding an engagement ring out to Ace was hilarious from their side of the booth, because Marty dropped to one knee and held out a fake ring to Frank.
“Glad to see you two made up,” Frank teased, “but, I think marriage is a little sudden.”
“Put that fucking ring away, and if you’re smart, you’ll never get it back out again,” Ace sneered.
I slid it back into my pocket, not sure when I would get it out again, but I knew I would.
“Good for you,” Marty cheered and slapped me on the back. “Another round!” He called to the waitress. “We have to celebrate!” His tone was boastful and happy even as the replay of our day plastered the television screens around us. I refused to let it get to me. I wasn’t planning on having another day like that. Besides, it was just practice. And that’s what practice was for, to work out the kinks.
CHAPTER NINE
e
Whitney
“I thought you were excited to get me all to yourself.” I used the baby talk that usually drove Calvin wild, but didn’t get the reaction I had hoped for.
“It’s been a long few weeks, babe,” he said without even turning his eyes from the TV to look at me.
“Yes, it has,” I snapped and slid off the couch and stomped into the bedroom, feeling like a selfish bitch with every step I took. But I couldn’t seem to help it. Bitch seemed to flow from me lately. I must be homesick or something.
I felt like I was constantly battling Calvin for attention, but the game, the coach, Ace, the fans, and now the sports reporters all seemed to win out.
I heard his footsteps in the hallway and quickly tossed myself over the king sized bed, burrowing my face into one of the down pillows, going from bitch to crybaby in an instant.
“Sweetie,” he said softly. I didn’t budge. He moved closer until I felt his hand caressing my leg. “I’m sorry, we only have a few more practices,” he sputtered out the same old excuse.
“I thought we were going to find a place, start our life together. This feels like your life, and I’m just in the way,” I groaned and rolled over onto my back.
He sat on the edge of the bed and gave me that same old tired smile. We had been having the same fight almost daily but never had a resolution. “When we finally finish up spring training—”
I held up a hand, silently asking him to shut the hell up. I’d heard it all before. Once the season starts, things will calm down, I’ll find my groove, we’ll find our groove, then it will be just us… blah, blah, blah. It was all bullshit. Once the season started, things would only get tougher.
“I just think Ace is a bad influence on you,” I spit out at him, wishing I could take it back the minute I said it. Not because it wasn’t true, but because that fight was getting me further and further from Calvin, I knew that.
“I’m so sick of hearing about Ace,” he moaned and stood up from the bed. “He has nothing to do with this, with us, with anything.” He argued the same argument I forced him to argue day after day.
“You know he still calls Holly,” I snapped. “Yet he’s always running around with a different woman, and you’re right there by his side, his little shadow,” I growled and pushed myself up on the mattress and leaned against the headboard.
His eyes were cold, tired, and empty as he stared at me. “I love you,” he murmured. “But, this argument has to stop. If I remember correctly, you wanted this too. You encouraged me to play. You wanted me to make it to the majors. You’re the one with the dreams of living in a mansion and driving fancy cars.” His eyes flicked down my body. “Wearing fancy clothes. I’m working my ass off to give it to you, and now all you do is complain because I’m also dealing with the downside of being a celebrity. Well, guess what? I’m figuring this out too!”
Tears filled my eyes, and he cursed, sat down, stood back up, then walked around to my side of the bed. He leaned down, hugged me tightly, and kissed me on the cheek as I sobbed onto his shoulder.
I calmed myself down and let him pull away from me long enough to slide open the nightstand drawer. “Have you seen this?” I asked, pushing a tabloid onto the bed in front of him.
“I don’t give a fuck what those people have to say.” His voice rose with anger as he picked it up and gave it a quick glance.
Major League Pitcher Calvin Malone Still Playing in the Minors When It Comes to Women. Will He Ever Reach a True Player’s Level?
Underneath that headline was a picture of me wearing a pair of green yoga pants and a tank top with my hair pulled into a ponytail walking next to Calvin. Beside that photo was one of Ace with two hot brunettes on each arm, both dressed to kill as they walked out of a nightclub.
“You aren’t seriously letting this get to you are you?” he questioned. The concern in his eyes brought a new rush of tears to mine. I was on the what not to wear list of seven online blogs. Yes, I was letting this get to me.
“Maybe I just don’t fit in here,” I sobbed as he pulled me into his arms. His lips pressed against my cheeks, and I knew he could taste the salt of my tears. “I’m a mess!” I blurted out half crying, half laughing as he pulled away from me and stared into my eyes.
“Baby, you’re adorable. All I want. All I need. I promise you that,” he insisted. “Ace may act like he has it all together, but trust me, I wouldn’t trade my life for his for anything.” His words were soothing and convincing enough for me to dry my tears and apologize for overreacting.
Thing is, it didn’t feel like I was overreacting.
The tabloids had been brutal, criticizing the way I dressed, the way I talked, even the expressions I made. I’d been forced to make my Facebook and Instagram pages private because so many women were going on it and saying things like, what does he see in her?
> If I dressed up, the headlines were just as brutal, saying things like Country Girl Misses the Mark in the Big City or What Not To Wear. I couldn’t win, and found myself staying in the apartment more and more.
Which made me lonely.
Which made me depressed.
Which made me temperamental.
And the only person I could take it out on was Calvin, the last person on the planet I should be mad at. Because he was right. I did want him to be a big star. I did want him to sign a multi-million-dollar contract. I did want to go shopping and have nice things. I pushed him in this direction and wasn’t dealing with any of it very well.
So between the tabloids and the arguing, everything was hitting me hard.
“I have to go. Do you want to come with me?” he asked sweetly.
I hated when their scrimmages were in the evenings. It felt like we never got any time to ourselves. Practice in the morning, a break before the game, usually spent with the guys at the bar, not drinking, but certainly getting some female attention. After the game, they were back at the bar for drinks to unwind and relax.
“Yes.” I accepted his offer to ride to the game with him and then quickly declined once I realized I looked like a hot mess. “I’ll meet you there,” I promised.
After a kiss on the forehead and a promise that he loved me just the way I was, he was gone. I jumped up, showered, and found a cute sundress and pumps, then fussed with my hair until it looked good enough to go into public.
Did I look good enough to go into public? I stared in the mirror, judging and double judging everything about my appearance. Back home, I was considered pretty. But here…?
Holly called while on my way to the stadium. I tried to keep my side of the conversation as private as possible since the cab driver seemed to be interested in listening in. I could trust no one. Those tabloid asshole mongrels paid good money for dirt on the players. Holly was rambling about Ace and the picture in the tabloid, not even acknowledging that I was publicly humiliated. “Should I come before next week?” she asked.
“What’s next week?”
She made a “duh” sound. “The ball.”
My head was reeling as I tried to remember if Calvin had told me anything about a ball. Nope, nothing. What the fuck?
“Ace invited you?” I asked, suddenly pissed that even Ace had been more courteous than my boyfriend.
“Yes, unless he’s taking one of those other girls now.”
“You know you two aren’t exclusive. If you want to be with a man like Ace, you have to get used to that fact.” Shit. That was cold and snippy. “I’m sorry, Holly. I didn’t mean that. I mean it’s true, but I shouldn’t have said it like that,” I retracted what I could of my statement.
“It’s okay, you’re right,” she said solemnly on the other end of the phone. “We’re just fuck buddies, so I have no claim.” Without another word, she hung up, and I felt like the vilest bitch on Long Island.
The cabby was staring at me through the rearview mirror as he pulled into the stadium’s private lot. I showed my identification and had him drop me off at the large blue doors meant only for staff, players, and certain VIPs. I didn’t fall under any of those categories, but until the season started, they had granted me access.
The owner, Rhett Hamilton, was the only one in the sky box. I stopped at the door when I realized it wasn’t empty. He turned and smiled. “Whitney, right?” I nodded as he extended his hand to me and then guided me to the seat next to where he had been sitting. “They are doing great,” he said, motioning to the players on the field.
“Good.” I was somewhat intimidated by his presence. He was a handsome man, one with distinguished looks, and he oozed confidence, a characteristic I lacked at the moment, more so than usual.
I took the seat he offered and got a whiff of his cologne as he returned to the seat beside me. I wished I was bold enough to ask the brand so I could buy it for Calvin. It was panty-dropping good.
“Are you excited about the celebration ball next week?” he asked.
Since I had just found out about it, no, excited wasn’t the word I felt. “Certainly,” I lied.
“It’s such an honor that the city is welcoming the team so graciously.” He spoke with elegance, a smoothness that I could only relate to Bond, James Bond. I could listen to him talk all day, about anything really.
“Why wouldn’t they?” I asked.
He leaned close to me, and I got another whiff of that delicious scent. “Well, this city wasn’t exactly thrilled to see another team hit the fields. Yankee fans are tough, as are fans of the Mets.”
I felt stupid for asking the question; of course, I knew the turmoil behind the new team. I had listened to Calvin go on about it for hours, but his presence was so intimidating, my brain just shut off.
“Who do you plan to wear?” he asked, his eyes flicking down to my lips.
“W-who?” I stammered in confusion, looking away and twisting my fingers together.
“Designer,” he explained with a slight smile. Amusement at my ignorance no doubt!
“Oh, I have no idea,” I admitted, feeling my cheeks heat.
The thought of the tabloid pictures plastered in my mind, and I wondered if he was feeling me out just to make sure I didn’t show up in those embarrassing green yoga pants.
“A beauty like you should be a thrill for any designer to dress for the night.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke, I swear they did! “There will be plenty of publicity, so why don’t I hook you up with my stylist.”
“That’s not necessary, I promise not to wear the green yoga pants,” I blurted out. His lips tightened, and his eyebrows rose high on his forehead, then he finally let out a refreshing laugh. Once he started, I joined in. He held his belly to calm his amusement.
“I saw the tabloids, but I assure you that wasn’t my motive for hooking you up with my stylist,” he said. “You’re a very beautiful woman, and in my opinion, those yoga pants were exactly what I would prefer to come home to over any Versace gown.”
I couldn’t tell if he was flirting or not, he was just so damn charming. “Thank you.” God, it felt wonderful to be complimented rather than criticized.
“It’s too pretty a day to be stuffed in this box. Shall we take seats outside and enjoy the game?”
Not that I would ever cheat on Calvin, but I was pretty certain I would follow that man anywhere.
Something about the way he locked eyes on you when he spoke was almost trance-inducing. He oozed charm from his pores, and his rugged yet refined good looks were impossible to ignore.
He stood and held out his hand to help me up. His skin was smooth, as if he had never done a hard day’s work in his life. Not like Calvin’s, which were rough and calloused from the hard work that got him where he is today. I admired him for his perseverance and strength. I wondered what exactly this man had done to get where he was today, maybe inherited daddy’s money?
Calvin noticed me right away as we stepped out of the sky box and into the stands. I waved, and he smiled, then wound up his pitch as we took our seat behind home plate.
I was worried about sitting in the stands and having people recognize me as the girl with green yoga pants. The small town Plain Jane who wasn’t good enough for Calvin Malone, star pitcher for the NY Beasts. That’s why I’d gone into the skybox in the first place, but now as people glanced in my direction, I felt admired, envied, and even empowered. I knew it was because of my company, the owner of the new team and world’s most eligible bachelor.
Sitting next to Rhett during the game was eye opening. Since I’d been with Calvin for so long, I knew the rules of the game, but Rhett provided inside information that was interesting. Like why he’d selected the players he did. His goals for the team. His vision for the next twenty years. For the first time, I saw the team through the eyes of an investor, which was fascinating.
And, of course, I cheered my guy on, watching proudly as he struck out batter after batter.
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They won!
Rhett hugged me while the Beasts congratulated each other after the game was over. God, he smelled good. I quickly pulled away before I embarrassed myself by sniffing him too loud.
Calvin made his way into the stands as soon as he was able. He shook hands with Rhett and then gave me a wild stare of admiration and possibly a little jealousy.
“I hope you didn’t mind your wife keeping me company during the game,” Rhett said graciously.
“Girlfriend,” I quickly corrected him.
Calvin’s eyes moved to mine, and there was a glimpse of pain within them at my quick correction. I felt bad. I knew if he had been the one to do that, especially in the presence of another woman, I would have been terribly hurt.
Rhett thanked me for keeping him company and then excused himself from our presence. “How’d you end up with him?” Calvin asked.
I lifted a shoulder. “He was in the skybox.”
“So, you two are big pals now, huh?” The jealousy in his tone grew more obvious.
“We were talking about the celebration,” I said, looking him directly in the eye. “You know, the ball that’s coming up next week.”
He blinked.
Yeah, that’s right. You fucked up again, Calvin!
He lifted a hand and squeezed the tight muscles in his neck. “I’ve just been so busy and my mind preoccupied,” he muttered.
I kept my voice sticky sweet. “Hmm, well, Ace went to the trouble of calling Holly and inviting her, even with his extremely busy lifestyle.”
“It’s not like I wasn’t going to tell you,” he insisted, throwing his hands up in the air. “Do you think I was going to ask someone else?” he chuckled as he spoke. The laugh grated on my last frazzled nerve.
It wasn’t funny, nothing was funny!
“Well, it would’ve been nice to be included in your life. Our life. If that’s what it really is,” I snarled and turned to walk away.