There was no way in hell I was going to miss out on this.
Whitney rushed to my side as I exited the field and jumped into my arms. “You did it!” she squealed.
“We did it,” I corrected her. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”
I knew that was true. She pushed me to keep going long after I wanted to quit. When my old man passed away, I lost my drive, but Whitney kept me on track by telling me he was watching and waiting for me to make it to the big leagues.
“Don’t let him down,” she would whisper in my ear before a big game that entire year while I grieved the man who’d raised me with an iron but loving fist.
“We’re all heading to Ace’s now,” I told her.
Her face wrinkled, and she bit her bottom lip, and not in her usual sexy way. “Do we have to stay long?”
This was my first major league game, my first major league win, and my first major league party. I didn’t want to be put on a fucking curfew!
“Babe, we’re celebrating, I have no idea how long we’ll be there,” I said, standing my ground like Ace always told me to. Break her in right, he would say.
“I just figured it might be a little wild,” she whined.
“Holly will be there,” I assured her and then turned to talk to Rhett who’d just walked up to congratulate me on a great game.
“I’ll see you two at Ace’s,” he said, then moved on to talk to a reporter waiting at the exit.
“See, everyone’s going,” I pointed out to Whitney. “Let’s just go and have fun.”
She didn’t look entirely convinced that going to one of Ace’s notorious parties would be fun, at least not her kind of fun. I shot her a grin, one that she couldn’t resist and got her face to soften and even made her lips curl into a slight smile. “Fine,” she agreed.
She was quiet on the ride there, mostly just texting on her phone, to Holly I’m sure. I turned up the stereo and rolled down the windows, taking in every possible sensation I could in this glorious moment.
Cars lined the street leading up the Ace’s house. I pulled up to the valet station and handed them my keys while they opened the door for Whitney. “He hired a valet?” she asked, kinda sarcastic, but I knew she was at least a little bit impressed. I was.
We walked up the drive hand in hand and made our way to the front door. People were everywhere. Some of the women looked like they had been there for a while. Ace yelled from across the large room and waved us over. He had already changed into a pair of swim trunks and a clean baseball jersey.
“Have a drink,” he insisted, handing a red colored drink to Whitney and a shot of his ever-present Patrón to me. I waited while he poured his and then toasted to an amazing start to our first season. I was actually delighted to see Holly, knowing she was the only one Whitney really knew or liked there, and hoped it would put her in a better mood.
“Oh God, Ace made you a home run?” she asked, rolling her eyes at Ace as she smiled.
“What is it?” Whitney asked, sniffing the glass in her hand.
“Well, it basically turns you into a guaranteed homerun,” she explained and then giggled, slapping her thigh. “I’ve had two already.”
Whitney sipped the drink, but I could tell she wasn’t interested in loosening up in this environment. The back wall was nothing but windows that overlooked a large pool that took up much of the space. Women in skimpy bikinis played in the water. I wasn’t really checking out the women, but more so the players on my team who were judging a cannonball contest when Whitney tugged on my arm. I looked at her and was rewarded with a pretty shitty look.
“I was watching the guys,” I said, pointing to the idiots I played with splash the women who tried to lounge on rafts in the pool as they jumped from the side. She rolled her eyes and scowled. Okay, so she didn’t believe me.
“Do you want to swim?” Holly asked, and I shook my head, noticing the scowl on Whitney’s face turn deadly. “Maybe later.”
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” Whitney said in a sharp, tight voice.
Ace grinned, pushed his sunglasses down on his nose and rolled his eyes up and down Whitney’s perfect little figure. “Sweetheart, you don’t need a suit.”
Holly slapped him on the arm playfully, Whitney offered up a fake tense smile, and I just stayed the hell out of it.
Ace took off to entertain other guests and left me standing there with the girls. It didn’t take Holly long to determine that Whitney was a dud, and she excused herself to go hang on Ace’s arm before he was snatched up by anyone else.
I looked around the party, at everyone having a blast, while I was just standing there like a lump. “How’s your drink?” I asked because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Whitney smiled and took another sip. “I’m not sure I want to drink too much here,” she said. Yeah, or anywhere.
The rush of adrenaline I felt on the ride over was fading fast as I watched everyone enjoying themselves. Whitney wasn’t happy here, that was obvious, and with Holly hanging on Ace’s arm I was left to entertain her myself. Lucky me.
“Would you like to go sit by the pool?” I asked.
“I don’t think I want to be out there watching those bimbos bounce around,” she scowled.
“What do you think you would like to do?” I asked as nicely as I could even though some sarcasm pushed through anyhow.
“Calvin, you know this isn’t my crowd,” she hissed, turning on me. “I’m here, but I refuse to act like an idiot.”
“I just want you to have fun,” I pleaded. “Lighten up.”
“No, you just want to have fun, and if I’m not, you feel like you can’t,” she hissed again.
“Exactly,” I agreed with her. “This is a big day,” I reminded her. I wanted to say my big day, but I knew better.
“There’s the man with the golden arm,” Rhett said as his hand rested on my shoulder. “Whitney, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” His charm rolled from his tongue onto her. She smiled, not a fake tense one like I got, but a real fucking smile. “How are you handling this chaotic lifestyle?”
I could answer that for her, but no, I wanted to hear what she had to say since ol’ Rhett seemed to get a totally different Whitney than I got.
“It’s not been easy to adjust to,” she said. Oh, you’ve adjusted, have you?
“I bet, and your family and friends are all so far away,” Rhett added, and I nearly groaned out loud. I didn’t see how this was helping matters at all. Why bring up the fact she’s lonely on top of everything else?
“I heard through the grapevine that you studied interior design in college,” he confessed. Whitney smiled and nodded, seeming to brighten only for him.
“Yes, but mainly office spaces.” She downplayed her skill when, in fact, she was amazing.
“My home office is in desperate need of a change. Would you be willing to help?” he asked, looking from her to me, then back to her. “I pay extremely well, and I’m very easy to please.”