“Thank you.” Dad beamed with excitement. “I can’t think of a better way to celebrate than at a Cub’s game—”
“Dodger game,” Mom and Dave said in unison.
“With my family and close friends,” Dad said. “Nick, I hope you’re ready for a battle tonight. I’m not sure about Robin, but Dave, Liz, and Viv don’t take losing lightly.”
“We’ll see who leaves here happy. Game’s not over until the last out,” Dave said.
Robin and Mom left to change into the “lucky” pink Tshirts Dave bought. I begged off, claiming I wanted to stay to hear the lineup and the national anthem.
“Superstitious?” Nick said.
I smiled up at him, aware that Nick, Dave, and Dad all insisted on being in their seats for the first pitch. “I can’t let you and Dad take the advantage for your team. I’m staying to even up the Dodger numbers for Dave.”
Fans waved white rally towels at the end of the anthem as the Dodger players took their places on the field and the first Cub batter stepped to the plate.
At the top of the second inning with the score tied at zero, Nick stood. “First round of beer and dogs is on me. Who’s in?”
Five hands waved. I volunteered to help, following Nick up the steps and across the crowded aisle to the concession stand. As we took our places at the end of the line, I heard my name called. I turned. Laycee Huber and Kyle Stanger pushed toward us through the crush of people. It was too late to duck. Thank God I hadn’t donned the pink T-shirt. Laycee wore the identical pink Dodger shirt with the silver-glittered logo stretched across her breasts. Though we measured the same height barefoot, she towered over me in three-inch heels peeking from beneath the hem of her skintight white pants. Her shoulder-length wavy brown hair dipped over her forehead from a side part.
“Sugar, we haven’t seen each other in a month of Sundays and now twice in the same day. But then, neither one of us were much for church, were we?” Laycee flashed a dimpled smile my way then settled her eyes on Nick. “And who is this? Why Liz, I think you’ve outdone yourself.”
I nodded up at Nick with a grin. He slid an affectionate arm around my waist as I made the introductions. Kyle grunted back a hello. Laycee took in Nick like a predator eyeing her prey.
She turned to Kyle. “Kyle honey, I’m absolutely parched. Will you get me something cold to drink while I talk to Liz for a minute?” She took me by the elbow, tugging me away from Nick and across the aisle behind the last row of seats.
I shook Laycee’s hand off my arm. “I want to get back to Nick. What’s so important?”
“You asked what brought me to town. Well, I have huge, huge, huge news to tell you. Kyle trains Billy Miles, a producer for the ATTAGIRL Network. You know, the network that runs Atlanta Wife Life?”
“And?” I glanced over her shoulder, trying to spot Nick in the concession line.
“When Kyle told me Billy knew the casting director for next season, I told Forrest I was going to visit you then hopped on a little ol’ plane out here. Kyle introduced me to Billy this morning, and after I use my Southern charm on him up in the suite tonight, you can bet I’ll be auditioning for the show tomorrow.” She winked at me.
“Why are you telling me this?” I tensed, irritated she had concocted a visit to me as an excuse to carry out her scheme, a scheme I knew her husband wouldn’t like at all. Her narcissistic lack of boundaries was limitless. “And why would you tell Forrest you came out here to see me? You and I haven’t talked in years and it’s still not long enough for me. I don’t care what you do on your own, but I’ll be damned if you use me as an excuse to your husband while you bed-hop your way onto a TV show.” I turned to walk away.
She grabbed my arm. “Don’t tell me you’re still upset about—”
“My alleged friend having sex with my husband?”
“Oh, please. You think I was the only one? You’d have to move to the desert to escape all the women Jarret bedded while you were married.”
“This conversation is over. You’re dead to me.” I spun around, straight into Kyle and the beer in his hand.
Chapter Four
Kyle’s cup of beer hit me full frontal, soaking my white T-shirt, splattering him, and spraying the two men passing us in the aisle. Laycee stalked toward the escalator, unscathed.
“Whoa, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you.” Kyle pulled out a napkin while his eyes tracked Laycee through the crowd.
Pinching the hem of my T-shirt, I pulled the sopping material away from my body before the beer soaked my bra. “I’m fine. Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
Nick appeared through the crowd, balancing a tray stacked with beer and hot dogs. “What the…?”
“We had a collision,” Kyle said.
“Go find your date, Kyle. Nick and I can handle this,” I said, fanning my shirt.
Kyle apologized again then shouldered into the streaming crowd and disappeared.
“Nick, will you ask Robin to meet me in the ladies’ room with the other pink shirt?”