“Huh?”
“I said Bailey took over.”
I couldn’t help it. Despite the shitstorm brewing on my end, that was fucking hilarious. I burst out laughing.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. The instructions were in Japanese, for Christ’s sake! Now, shut up or I won’t help you.”
That did the trick and I zipped my trap.
“Fiona’s fancy lawyer is in Fiji or something, but I called another lawyer here in town. We kind of worked with her before, and she agreed to hear your kid out. Got a pen?”
I quickly grabbed a pen and paper and jotted down the name and number.
Emerson Scott. What the hell kind of name is that for a woman? I immediately pictured a pointy-nosed college professor. Or maybe some older woman who dressed like a dude. It didn’t matter, though. I had a lead and that was all I cared about. Chris’s future couldn’t be trusted to an overworked court-appointed attorney.
After passing the information on to the Hardacres, I was unsure what to do with myself. I ended up calling Gerry to get him up to speed and then went upstairs to my computer. I had work to do, and since there was nothing else I could do for Chris tonight, I got down to it.
The next afternoon, I found myself back at North High School, leaning against the fence as I’d done the past weekend. Kirk hadn’t been blowing smoke up my ass. This Miller kid had the touch. I’d only seen him pitch one inning, but his raw talent was stunning. And since I hadn’t been able to catch him after the game, Gerry and I had decided I should become a fixture at team practice and weekday games. In other words, I was to develop stalking tendencies.
Still preoccupied by my numerous phone conversations the previous night, I rubbed my bloodshot eyes and waited for the team to take the field. Sleep had been elusive, even though I’d ended the night somewhat confident that Chris would have a good lawyer. Ms. Scott was meeting with the Hardacres today and I was anxious to hear how it went. Guilt gnawed at my gut over the part I’d played in this debacle.
It wasn’t long before the players and coaches started trickling onto the field. I could pinpoint the moment Kirk caught sight of me because his chin sank into his chest and his head shook with his laughter. He gave me a sign that he’d come talk to me soon, so I watched the kids warm up.
About twenty minutes later, it was all I could do to keep myself from jumping the fence and hugging the shit out of the Miller kid. He’d been throwing pitches to the backup catcher, and each one was better than the one before it. And this was just practice! His fastball was tight as shit and his curve dropped like a freaking bomb when it hit the strike zone. I had to have this kid at the Academy.
By the time Kirk made his way over to me, I was practically salivating like a dog with a juicy ribeye. And that’s when Kirk dealt the crushing blow.
“Sorry to say, Monroe, but it’s not gonna happen. Kid’s got no money. Coach even talked to him, but he was adamant. Don’t know anything about his home life since he’s new, but he seems like a straight shooter.”
“Shit,” I replied. The Academy did payment plans, of course, and we had different levels of training, but there was no scholarship system in place.
Kirk’s lips quirked to the side. “I’ll tell you what I can do. I can’t give out his personal info to you, but I can give his parents a shout and ask them to call you to chat. That’s the best I can give you, though.”
I nodded distractedly, my eyes drawn again to the kid as he threw a perfect slider. Damn.
After practice, I drove over to the Academy to update Gerry since he refused to keep his damn phone turned on. But before I could make my way to his office, I caught sight of Chris coming out of the locker room, arms full of gear. Shit. Well, I guess I should have expected this.
“Chris!” I called out. He turned and as soon as he saw me, his lower lip started to tremble a bit. I looked away to give him a chance to gather himself.
“My parents are waiting in the parking lot,” was all he said. His shoulders were slumped and he had dark circles under his eyes.
“Man, I’m so sorry about all this.” I shook my head. “I never meant to—”
He cut me off. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I was just really panicked, you know.”
I nodded and stepped closer. “Yeah. I bet.”
“Anyway, thanks for hooking us up with that lawyer. She’s gonna take my case p…pora bono?”
I grinned. “Pro bono.”
“Yeah,” he replied, hitching his gear back up in his arms. “Anyway, she’s pretty sure she can make it go away with just a fine and probably community service since I didn’t mean to really steal the car.”
I allowed myself a small grin. “You just had to pick a Benz, didn’t you?”
The side of his mouth lifted in return. “Go big or go home, right?”
I let out a chuckle, then gestured to the gear. “This your decision or your parents’?”
“Well, I can’t say I’ll be disappointed not to hang out with Brad and Dell anymore, but it was my parents’ choice. They said the money for the fines and court fees has to come from somewhere, and it’s part of my punishment. But I may be able to come back next year.” He shrugged.
“I hope you do.” I cuffed the side of his head. “You let me know if you need anything, okay?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, um, do you think you might be able to come to court? You know, just to have a friend there?”
I smiled. “You bet. Just leave a message with the details and I’ll be there.”
He lifted his chin at me and turned toward the door. “Thanks, Coach.”
Damn.
The following morning, I was still thinking about Chris as I put on my hard hat and made my way around the back of the apartment building our crew was working on. The rest of the crew was already there, along with Mark and some outside contractors. I was about to go over and give Mark shit about the crib when my phone rang. Unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Hello there.”
It was a woman’s voice—one I didn’t recognize. When she didn’t continue, I pulled the phone from my ear, thinking we were disconnected. We weren’t.
“Hi,” I said warily. “Who am I speaking with?”
“It’s Naomi. Jupiter’s mother.” Her voice was light and airy.
This in no way cleared up my confusion.
“Jupiter?” This had to be a joke.
“Yes. They told me to call you. They said you’d be expecting my call,” she said, as if a little put out. I had to wonder who “they” were, and I was beginning to fear it was “the voices.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am—”
She cut me off. “Naomi.”
I paused. Okay. “I’m sorry, Naomi, but I think you have the wrong number.”
“I don’t think so. I’m sure I wrote it down correctly. You’re Gavin. That’s a lovely name.”
“Thank you?” Who in the hell was this lady?
“You’re very welcome, Gavin.”
“Why is it you’re calling again?” I tried my nicest voice but I had to get to work and didn’t really have time for the crazy train today.
“I told you. It’s about Jupiter. They said you wanted to coach him in baseball.”
Oh, this was a call about training. That made me feel a bit better, but I didn’t know who in the hell Jupiter was. “Um, Jupiter?”
“Right,” she responded, and then something seemed to click for her because she laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. You probably know him as Jay. Jay Miller.”
Holy crap! This was the call I’d been waiting for. “Yes! Jay—wow. He’s an extraordinary player, ma’a—Naomi. You must be very proud.”
“Thank you, Gavin. And, yes, we are very proud.”
I put the oddness of the kid’s name aside and continued with my best sales pitch, careful to tell her all about our payment plans and the reputation of our center. I included all the stats on former students and their college scholarships, as wel
l as the handful who had made it to the majors. She made appropriately impressed sounds and I was feeling optimistic.
“That seems like a wonderful opportunity,” she responded when I was done. She sounded oddly proud of me. For some reason I felt compelled to thank her, but I refrained.
“So, what do you say we sign Jay up?” I held my breath.
“Well, I think if he’d like to do it, you should definitely sign him up.”
YES!
“Great! When can you bring him in to register?”
She paused. “Oh, me? That will be a bit of a problem, I’m afraid.”
I frowned. Maybe she was an invalid? “Or we can do it online. I can even come to your house if that would make it easier…”
She laughed. “I’m afraid that would be quite a haul, Gavin, and not really worth your time.”
Why did I feel ten steps behind in this entire conversation? If Jay went to North, that meant he lived in the district. “I wouldn’t mind at all,” I insisted. “Where do you live?”
“Right now?” she asked, strangely. Then I heard muffled sounds and a male voice before she came back to the line. “We’re in New Mexico. Beautiful country! Have you been?”
What the hell?
“Um, no.” I was gripping the back of my neck by this point, desperate to get the kid on board, but feeling at a total loss talking to this woman.
“Oh, you really should, Gavin. Do you have a lady friend?”
I had to stifle an exasperated laugh that tried to work its way up my throat. I had a sudden urge to look around for evidence this was a practical joke. “No one at the moment. Naomi, I’m a bit confused. When will you be back in town?”
“Well, that’s a shame, what with your lovely name and your nice voice. You could take your girl on a cross-country trip sometime if you had one.”
I had zero knowledge how to respond. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
“I haven’t lived in North Carolina in ages myself, but I’ve visited Emmy and it’s still quite beautiful there too, so I suppose you’re okay where you are. At any rate, Jay is with Emmy now, so I’ll have her stop by to register him. I’m sure she’ll be happy to pay for it.”
“Emmy?” This was getting weirder by the second.
“I’ll call her tonight. Oh, I have to run! We just pulled up to the world’s largest pistachio!” She laughed. “You really should see this, Gavin! Bye for now.”
And then she hung up, leaving me wondering if that conversation had actually happened or if maybe I was still in bed, asleep.
Chapter Four
Sugar
EMERSON
“Is there something you forgot to tell me?”
Jay stopped in his tracks. He’d just stepped in the front door, his clothes covered in dust. His equipment bag was slung over one shoulder, his backpack over the other.
I’d just gotten off the phone with our mom. She’d explained that Jay needed to register for extra training at a local center—an expensive local center. As soon as she told me, I knew it was something Jay had deliberately kept quiet. Mom and Aldo didn’t have the money for extra luxuries like private training, not that Jay would have asked them either. But, he certainly would never have asked me. My heart ached again at the thought.
“I don’t think so,” Jay replied warily.
I cocked my head and he turned to close the door. I waited until I had his attention again. “Are you sure you didn’t forget to mention—oh, I don’t know—that your coaches think you’re fantastic and they recommended training at the Baseball Academy?” I raised my eyebrows at him.
His face colored. “Oh, that.”
“Yes, that.” I couldn’t help but grin. I didn’t bother to ask why he hadn’t told me. I already knew. “They’re open late, so we’re going tomorrow when I get home. We’re getting you registered.” I pointed at him.
“Em, no,” he said. “You don’t know how expensive that stuff is. I’m fine without it.”
“Well, you’ll be even more fine with it, then.”
“I’m not even a starter—I’m hardly playing much. It’s not worth it.”
“You’re the only one who seems to think so. I’m not going to take a no this time, Jay. Even if I have to drag you there.” I pulled myself up to my full height, which, even at five-eight, was no match.
He gave me a look that said he knew he could take me. Oh well. “Mom and Dad can’t afford it, and I’m not taking money from you. You’re already housing and feeding me.” He tried to walk past me but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“So? I want to do this for you. And, besides, I like having you around here. It’s too quiet with just me in this place.”
“Well, that’s your fault for buying a gigantic house.” He raised his eyebrows at me.
“I like my gigantic house—it’s not that big.” Was it?
“If you say so. I’m gonna go do some laundry—my clothes stink. You want me to throw some of your stuff in?”
I ignored his attempt at distraction. “When I get home tomorrow, we’re going, so you’d better not bail on me.”
He mumbled in response and headed down the hallway, but I was pretty certain I didn’t hear the word no.
“Ms. Scott, may I have a word?” Mr. Wheeler’s voice came from behind me. I turned abruptly.
“Certainly.” I pinned my most accommodating smile in place. Drat. It was already 7:00 p.m. and I had been on my way out the door to get Jay.
He motioned for me to precede him back into my office.
When the door had closed behind him, he spoke again. “I’ve just gotten off the phone with Dietrich, and we’re going to have to move the founder’s agreement and non-disclosure paperwork deadline up by a week.”
My heart sank. Dietrich was one of the chief clients in the AgPower start-up. That deadline was only two weeks away as it was, which meant we only had one week to get things sewn up. Fudge—that was going to be a stretch.
I refused to let my distress show on my face. “That shouldn’t be a problem, Mr. Wheeler. I’ll confer with Craig now and we’ll get it taken care of.” My nerves were frayed. How in holy hell were we going to pull this off?
“Excellent.” He nodded. “I’m meeting Melanie for dinner, so I need to be off. I’ll leave you to it.” He walked out and I sank into my desk chair again, knowing I’d have to call Jay and cancel.
When I got home three hours later, I knocked on his bedroom door. There was no answer, and I debated whether or not I should open the door. He was fifteen, after all. I decided to take my chances.
I turned the knob and poked my head around the opening I’d created. “Hi,” I said, scrunching my nose at him as I prepared my apology.
He was on his bed, his homework spread out in front of him in a messy array of papers and books. A pair of wireless headphones covered his damp hair, and his head swung up as he spied me in his peripheral vision. Seemingly caught by surprise, he didn’t have time to school his features to affect indifference, and the wide smile I remembered so well overtook his face. Darn, I missed that smile. I altered my expression to match his, just as his turned stiff.
“Hey,” I ventured.
“Hey.” He removed his headphones and kept my gaze.
“I’m so sorry about tonight.” I felt my eyebrows rise. “Can we go tomorrow after your game?”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I already told them I’m not doing it. It’s totally fine.” He maintained his artificial happy expression.
I didn’t really have a leg to stand on since I’d harped about this so much the previous night and then I’d been the one to bail. So I just narrowed my eyes playfully and said, “We’ll see.”
I was determined to make this happen with or without him. Surely, I could find time to slip out tomorrow and run over to the center. My plan in place, I kept the pretense that the issue was dropped.
“So, what’s with this overachieving stuff?” I gestured to his books. “You’re supposed to
be texting girls and sneaking out the window, not doing your homework at ten o’clock on a Friday night,” I teased.
“Oh, I did that earlier,” he tossed back at me, not missing a beat. “I’m just getting this done so I can spend the rest of the weekend selling drugs and bullying kids on Facebook.”
“Ha ha,” I responded and then asked if he’d eaten yet. He assured me he had grabbed some pizza with one of his teammates.
“You’re not going to give me some random fact about the poor nutritional quality of pizza, are you?” he teased.
I narrowed my eyes. “No…not unless you want me to.”
He put his hands up to ward me off. “Don’t ruin pizza for me. I’m a growing boy—I need all the calories I can get.”
“Yeah, about that. If you could do me a favor and stop getting taller, that would be awesome. You’re making me feel like a shrimp.” The kid had grown at least three inches since the last time I’d seen him on a trip to Virginia six months before. If I didn’t know how in love our mom was with Aldo, I would have questioned her faithfulness. But apparently short guys did it for her.
So, how she’d married my own father was a complete mystery. He stood over six feet, but his height was the most trivial of traits that kept me perplexed at how he and my mother had ever had a relationship—much less a marriage, even as short-lived as it had been.
“I’ll do my best,” Jay responded and then donned his headphones again. I took that as my cue and went to my room to get ready for bed.
The brief thought of my father reminded me that I owed him a visit. He’d been dropping hints over e-mails and phone calls for the past month, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to accept any of his invitations. I always made sure to have an excuse at the ready. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him. Heck, he was half the reason I’d joined a law practice here in Greensboro as opposed to one of the other cities I’d been considering.
It was Candy I couldn’t stomach. Okay, her name is really Mandy, but Ari and I always refer to her as Candy instead. It really suits her much better, I swear to you. She speaks in a sugary sweet voice and never fails to address me as if I’m eight years old.
The Game (Carolina Connections Book 4) Page 4