“After you.” Charlie gestured.
I blinked against the late-afternoon sun, and then spotted Rach and Jeff heading left toward the field box. I didn’t wait for Charlie to catch up before taking off after them. I wanted to be clear in the most diplomatic and least cruel way possible that this date was a nonstarter.
When I took my seat beside Jeff, I ignored the sight of a bunch of people getting their picture taken at home plate with the Red Sox mascot, Wally the Green Monster, and waited for Charlie to take his seat beside me. He got settled in, smiled at me, and let his eyes drift down over my legs. I was wearing a Red Sox girly-fit T-shirt and jean shorts.
Practically my entire body was blushing by the time he was done checking me out.
And that was when I decided the least cruel way was the most honest way.
I leaned into him and Charlie smiled and ducked his head toward me so he could hear me over the crowds and the guy talking into the mic about a charity foundation. “I didn’t know about tonight.”
He frowned. “About me?”
“Yeah. Rach didn’t tell me.” I could feel Jeff stiffen beside me as he overheard.
Charlie grimaced. “Is it a problem?”
I gave him an apologetic look. “I’m kind of seeing someone … I mean it’s … I don’t know what it is but—”
He held up a hand and gave me a disappointed smile. “I get it. Really, it’s no problem.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he assured me. I smiled gratefully at him. Such a seemingly sweet guy. What the hell was I doing? “You’ve still got to let me buy you something to eat, though. No strings?”
“You know what …? I think we should make Rachel do that.”
“I concur,” Jeff agreed beside me, and I looked at him to see he was not happy. Apparently Rachel hadn’t told Jeff I didn’t know about the setup either.
“I couldn’t,” Charlie insisted. “My mother would kill me if I let a woman buy her own dinner.”
I chuckled. “Isn’t that a little outdated?”
“Probably.” He grinned. “But she’s terrifying, so I do what she says.”
I nudged him with my arm. “Okay, then, I’ll have a hot dog, please.”
“Hot dogs! Hot dogs! Get your hot dogs!” a burly guy in a yellow vendor’s shirt bellowed from behind us, skipping down the steps with his hot case of dogs held above his head.
We burst out laughing. “Nice timing,” Charlie said, and lifted a hand to catch the guy’s attention as he turned at the bottom of the box.
Two hot dogs and a cold beer later, we were thirty minutes into the game and the Red Sox were killing it. The electric atmosphere of the crowded park fed into me and like always made me forget even the slow moments in the game.
“I have to get one of those shirts!” Rachel reached across Jeff to slap my knee. “The replica baseball shirts.”
“Why don’t you try the team store?”
“I want a girly one, though. My breasts will get lost in the guy’s one.”
I couldn’t remember seeing a feminine style of the shirt in the store. “Online?” I suggested.
Instead of answering, Rachel looked over my shoulder and her eyebrows rose. I glanced back to see what had distracted her.
A tall, well-built older man in a Red Park Security shirt was staring down at me with this deeply disturbing blank mien. “Alexa Holland?”
I ignored Charlie’s curious gaze on my face and wondered what the heck I’d done wrong. “Um … yes,” I was almost afraid to admit.
“Mr. Carraway requests your presence in his suite on the EMC level.”
Holy …
I blanched.
How the hell had he spotted me in this crowd?
As if he could read my mind, the security guy pointed up behind me. I looked up over my shoulder. Caine’s suite was right above me.
Of course it was.
I sighed.
“You don’t have to go, Lex,” Rachel shouted over the noise.
I threw her a look. “Yes, I do.” If he’d seen me with Charlie I could only imagine what he was thinking. After telling them I’d catch up with them later, I followed the security guy out of the field box. I stewed over what kind of reception I was about to get, and what would bother me more—Caine not trusting me or his indifference.
As soon as the security guy swung open the door to Caine’s suite, I was taken aback to see Caine was not alone. Effie and Henry were there, among familiar faces from work. Effie came hurrying over to hug me close, and the guilt I’d been feeling dissipated under my anger.
He’d invited all these people to watch the game and he hadn’t invited me.
Not until he’d seen me there with someone else.
“You look hot, kid.” Effie grinned up at me.
I smiled, pushing my ire back down. “As do you.”
She made a “pfft” noise at me as Henry stepped up to say hello. He looked different wearing his Red Sox shirt and jeans. More approachable. Gorgeous. “I got banana cream pie,” he announced, and I laughed. I’d managed to talk Effie into easing up on Henry.
Effie rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she engaged an older couple in conversation.
People waved who recognized me and I smiled politely back, letting Henry edge me closer to Caine. He was standing on the balcony, his back to me as he watched the game. He looked remote out there, even surrounded by so many people.
My anger drifted away.
He liked it this way. He liked to be alone even with so many others around him.
But I was beginning to think he was unable to be alone around me … and I realized then that was why he’d never invited me to share the game.
Until he’d seen me there. With someone else.
“Better go say hi to the boss.” Henry winked at me.