“Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes,” a sultry female voice sounded from behind me. Her body slid in between mine and Holly’s, almost pushing us as she squeezed her way to our dates. “Caroline Black,” she introduced herself without being asked.
Her body was long and lean, her curves evident in the long white gown she wore. Her demeanor was filled with confidence as if she was someone of importance, and we should be grateful to be in her presence. Calvin extended his hand first, but Ace pushed his into his back pockets and simply nodded with a smile in her direction. As my man started to introduce himself, she cut him off. “Calvin Malone.” Her voice almost purred like a kitten as she spoke.
She rattled off Calvin’s stats from college like she was reading the back of a trading card. He was impressed, that much was obvious as he continued to smile that foolish smile he wore only when he was nervous or too excited. I was hoping he was nervous.
Her compliments became more and more aggressive as her hand pushed against Calvin’s chest. Her head tilted back when she laughed at something he said. It was as if I wasn’t even here, dressed to impress, but outdone by this horribly forward woman, whoever the hell she was. I glared at Calvin to let him know my irritation level was growing, but she seemed to have him in some sort of trance.
I moved around her and gripped Calvin’s arm. “We should get a drink,” I suggested, pulling his attention from this vixen who apparently couldn’t care less that he was my date and not hers.
“Oh, darling, I would love a martini. Would you be a dear?” she purred before smiling at me like I was her servant.
“I’m sorry, I meant Calvin and I should get a drink,” I said coldly but offered her the same fake smile she had given me.
Calvin’s eyes pulled from hers finally, but when they landed on mine, they were filled with disappointment and embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I’m neglecting my…” he stammered as he obviously tried to figure out what to call me. “Girlfriend,” he finally finished. I guess I deserved that after the correction I made in front of Rhett Hamilton.
Once we stepped away, Calvin scolded me for a second about being rude, but when he couldn’t tell me who she was or why she was so important, he shut his mouth and apologized for his own rudeness.
The rest of the night was like a fairytale. We were served a beautiful dinner, a champagne toast, and there was a formal introduction of each team member, the coach, and of course, the owner. Several of the Yankees and Mets showed up to support the new team, something the mayor had been quoted as saying “would never happen.”
I began to lighten up and really have some fun, enjoying the attention from members of the other teams. One player for the Mets, Todd Morris, took particular interest in me, and we danced twice before the night was over.
It was fun to see Calvin be the one looking jealous for once.
CHAPTER TEN
Calvin
I held the ball just slightly off center, letting my fingers find their place as I stared Ace down. He held his bat high off his shoulder, ready to drill one of my famous four-seam fastballs, but this time, I was ready for him.
I added a cut to the ball as it left my hand, slowing it down just a few miles per hour. He stared hungrily at the ball as it blasted towards him, and he swung too soon. Strike!
The team cheered, the catcher the loudest behind the plate as the ball settled into his glove with a loud pop.
“Okay, you wanna jam me up?” Ace called out to me, shaking his head in amazement that I would play him that way.
That was it, last practice pitch before our opening season game. I laughed as he flung his bat towards the dugout and pretended to fight with Marty, screaming like a man possessed. I had watched Ace Newman take down many umpires over the years. I couldn’t wait to see it first-hand.
“Alright, boys, get ready for our big game,” Coach Griffin yelled as we ran towards the locker room.
Caroline Black, the beautiful blonde woman from the celebration was leaning against the fence near the dugout. She had been watching the entire practice, and I noticed her primary focus was on me.
“Great practice, Calvin,” she said as I ran past her. I smiled but kept moving, not sure if she was truly there to see me or if she had another agenda.
“Whooweeee,” Ace hollered as he gripped the back of my neck. “Looks like you have a personal fan.”
“I’m sure she was just here to watch the last practice,” I said and pulled away from his tight grip.
“Oh no, I saw how she looked at you at the party,” Ace argued. “She had that same look today.” He puckered his lips and batted his eyes as he pushed up imaginary breasts on his chest.
“Oh yeah, what look is that?” I asked and tried not to laugh at his nonsense.
“Just watch yourself,” Ace warned. “She’s a man eater.”
I looked at him, surprised he wasn’t telling me to jump that shit. “She seemed very nice, you’re just jealous that she isn’t here to see you.”
His face turned serious, and his eyes locked onto mine. “Trust me on this, she’s out for fresh meat. Beast meat,” he said and then laughed when I rolled my eyes.
“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”
He didn’t respond, just disappeared into the showers and left me alone. Thank God!
“Hey, Calvin, when you planning on popping the question?” Marty asked.
I’d planned on doing it after our first game, or possibly even during, but with so much turmoil at home and constant nagging and fighting, the thought had vanished from my mind. “I don’t know yet,” I said, not wanting to admit my concerns.
“Is everything okay at home?” he asked. Typical Marty. Baseball’s version of Dr. Phil.
“Yeah, it’s all good.” It actually was for now, meaning this minute, but I didn’t know how long that would last. She was still nagging about us finding our own place, but I spent a good chunk on her ring and of course, my Porsche. Plus, I hadn’t had time to really research the best areas let alone look at homes, and Whitney was insisting we do it “together.”
Ugh.
I shook my head, trying to shake off the bad mood. We’d had another fight about it the other night. Sure, I’d been dropped a chunk when I signed the contract, but the amount wasn’t endless, and places on Long Island were expensive as hell.
So, of course, Whitney had thrown my car in my face. “So you’d rather buy a whore magnet than find a decent place for me to live?”
I’d looked around the apartment, which was way nicer than either of the homes in which we’d grown up. Then I’d marched to the kitchen counter where I’d tossed my credit card statement earlier that day.
“See this?” I’d yelled, pulling out the statement and waving it in the air. “Thirty-two thousand dollars, Whitney! On clothes! In. A. Month.”
Her jaw had fallen open, then her eyes had filled with tears. And of course I’d caved, feeling bad for making her cry. Dammit.