Chapter Thirteen
Maisy woke up to a daisy on the pillow next to her. Underneath it was a note. She wrapped herself in one of the sheets they had worn last night and moved into the living room, sinking into the couch.
Conference call and a player meeting. I’ll call you later about tonight.
Sam
She frowned. Where was the part about last night? The passionate connection? Even the hot sex? Either Sam was unimaginative with morning-after notes or she might have just received the ultimate blowoff. Or maybe he just had cold feet.
She tossed the note on the couch beside her, feeling a bit deflated. Like she’d just been paid off.
Wait a minute. That couldn’t be right. She had been the one to attack Sam last night. She was the one in charge. Wasn’t that a good transformation? She was stronger now. Not like before, when another one-page note had devastated her.
The first year Kevin was on the Turbos, he’d taken his mother to the All-Star Game. Maisy couldn’t imagine Sarah Halderman enjoying all the parties and ceremonial activities. But she’d come back with all sorts of stories of famous people she’d met. The second year that Kevin was named to the All-Star team, Maisy had been crazy with excitement because it was her turn to accompany him.
But in the weeks prior to the All-Star break, Maisy had been overextended. Mom had a bad episode that spring and was having trouble getting around. Maisy had done her best to divide her time between Indianapolis and Comeback. But it was hard. She was finishing up her master’s degree in elementary education. And like she always did, she’d attended every home game Kevin played. The long hours between the ballpark, school, and home had finally caught up with her. She’d gotten sick.
Afraid he might catch her bad cold before the All-Star Game, Kevin had stayed with a buddy in Indianapolis instead of the apartment they shared. When the cold had lingered, Kevin asked her not to come to the All-Star Game with him. He’d told her it would be boring.
Maisy hadn’t had the energy to argue. Kevin had gone solo.
He’d come home distracted. Even though she was feeling better and she’d missed him, he hadn’t been interested in sex. He hadn’t talked about the week or the parties or the inning the National League had scored two runs on him. She should have known something was going on.
All-Star parties were notoriously lively. It didn’t excuse the way Kevin’s arm was around Alexa Ventura in a picture inside Sports Illustrated. The two stars were wrapped around each other well into the early hours, the article said. It went on to blame Kevin’s poor All-Star performance on his extracurricular activities.
Even then, Maisy hadn’t wanted to confront Kevin. Somewhere in her weak and pitiful mind, she’d thought he would have a good explanation.
That was when he’d left her a one-page note. “Dear Maisy, I met some body…”
She had been so angry that she pulled out a pencil and corrected his poor spelling and grammar before throwing it in his face. Then she’d picked up her suitcase and moved home. The summer had turned to fall and she’d stayed in Comeback. She’d started teaching at Joy Elementary that September and slowly healed.
Since then she hadn’t thought about being with another man. Well, hardly.
It stunk that Sam was connected with baseball!
Last night in the limousine, she had turned her ringer off. She hadn’t felt like talking to the family and friends who had called her after the game. Now, she returned her mother’s call and reassured her that all was fine. Mom didn’t sound convinced. Especially when Maisy told her she was staying another night.
When Maisy called Heather, she heard Heather’s husband yelling at the kids in the background. “Is Lamar okay?” Heather and Lamar were on vacation in Northern Michigan.
“Oh, yeah. We’re on the dock and the kids are trying to catch fish for breakfast. Only they aren’t quite getting the hang of it. Jacy just put a worm in Drake’s orange juice.”
Maisy loved Jacy and Drake. They reminded her of herself and Chad. “Give them a big hug for me.”
“Not until the worms are back in the refrigerator if you don’t mind.” Heather made a screeching sound and it took a few moments until she came back to the phone. “Sorry, Maisy. I’m off the dock. Lamar can take care of the kids. You and I need to talk.”
“I know.”
“Why the hell did you go back?” she asked.
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Charlie Zumaeta gave us ten thousand dollars for back-to-school supplies.”
That earned a thoughtful pause. “I’m not sure you need to prostitute yourself like that.”
Great minds thought alike. It was why she loved Heather so much. She didn’t think in terms of winning a game or being the best. She thought in terms of what was right for each person. That’s what made her a great teacher.
“It was more. Sam Hunter came out to the farm. He wanted me to come back to the stadium for a game and then Faygo stepped on his foot and broke his toe. After I drove him back to Indianapolis—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out. Who’s Sam Hunter?”
“Remember the guy on the barstool at Plato’s?”
“The guy who looked like Ryan Gosling?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, my God.” The whooping and high-pitched yelling on the other end of the line made her forget her earlier insecurity about sleeping with Sam. If her best friend was happy, then maybe it was a good thing.
Lamar’s deep voice in the background asked what was going on. “Maisy’s back in the ball game! That’s what’s going on.”
“What are you talking about?” Maisy asked.
Heather smothered the phone. Maisy could hear her telling one of the kids to mind their own business. Then she was back. “How was it? You haven’t run those bases in a long time.”
Maisy grinned. If only Heather knew how aggressive she had become. But running a victory lap wasn’t the reason Maisy had called. And although they shared everything, she wasn’t ready to talk about it.
“Get your head out of the gutter, Heather.” Maisy crossed her fingers and said, “Nothing happened.”
“Aww, come on.”
Maisy quickly moved on to the point. “The thing is, I’m staying another day. I’m going to this big gala tonight. The Indianapolis Summer Gala.”
“The gala where people wear all those fancy clothes and it looks like the Oscars?”
“That’s the one. It seems that Charlie Zumaeta wants me there tonight. He asked Sam to take me as his date.”
“What are you going to wear?” Heather always knew the question that needed asking.
Maisy wanted reassurance before talking fashion. “But should I do this? I mean, this feels really odd. And Kevin and Alexa are going to be there.”
That seemed to sober Heather. “Oh, geez. I didn’t even think about that. I was so excited about you and Ryan and dressing up. Listen, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You can leave and come back home. Where are you staying, anyway? You can go to my mom’s.”
Maisy hesitated and looked around. “I’m at an apartment overlooking the whole skyline. The team uses it for VIP guests. The bathroom is floor-to-ceiling marble and the tub is as big as my classroom.”
Another screech from Heather. “Sorry, hon. I just had to screw my head back on. Let’s talk about this. Will you be all right if you see Kevin and Alexa together?”
“I kind of think so. I mean, I’ve seen them in the newspapers. I just saw Kevin last night on the mound.”
“And you were okay with it?”
Maisy closed her eyes and reexamined her feelings just to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind since last night. “Yeah, remarkably I am.”
“Then maybe this whole thing is good for you. What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
The worst thing already had happened. She’d been dumped three months before her wedding by her childhood sweetheart. Nothing could compare to that hurt. Hopefully. “I guess the answer is, I might feel like crap all over again. But maybe I’ll feel better, too.”
“Well, the way I see it, the next thing to do is to get yourself shopping and then the beauty salon.”
“Maybe I should just borrow something from someone. Is that old prom dress of yours still in your mom’s closet?”
Heather moaned on the other end. “Oh, my God. It’s purple taffeta! The answer is no! You need to do this up right. Make Kevin Halderman regret the way he dumped you. He really hurt you!”
“I know.”
“Make that Alexa jealous. Make that hot Ryan guy so horny he’ll forget all about baseball.”
The thought of a repeat performance made her heart flip.
Heather shifted into stern teacher voice. She only ever did that when she was pushed to the edge by her most challenging students. “I want you to go out there for every woman who has ever been dumped by a man she dedicated her life to. Show the world you are strong and beautiful. Get out there and make me proud. Do it for yourself. Do it for all of us!...Are you still there, Maisy?”
“Yeah. I think this is that part in the movie where the girl power music comes on and I do that shopping montage where I put on things with red feathers and dramatic shoulder pads while you shake your head.”
“Then you try on that last perfect dress that fits you like a glove and you walk out of the store with your head high and a large shopping bag.”
***
In the end, it wasn’t exactly as Heather imagined. But it was close. As soon as Maisy finished taking a shower (under the three separate showerheads that took her ten minutes to figure out how to work), and dressed, Tristan and Joanie showed up at her door.
“We come carrying gifts from the Turbos.” Tristan held up an envelope. “A gift certificate for the beauty salon downstairs.”
Joanie flashed a credit card. “There’s a thousand-dollar shopping spree for tonight on this.”
Maisy put her hands to her cheeks. “I can’t believe how generous Mr. Zumaeta is being.”
Tristan and Joanie exchanged looks.
“It’s nothing, really,” Tristan said.
“He means, don’t mention it,” Joanie added. “As in, really. Zoom doesn’t like to talk about this kind of thing. Don’t mention it tonight, okay, Maisy?”
Maisy took the gift card and ran her hand across it to make sure it was real. It caught the morning sun coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows. No harm in having fun at the Turbos’ expense. It was the least they could do. Heather was going to love this.
“We’ve got a car waiting downstairs, and we thought you might like us to take you shopping,” said Joanie with a wink. “I know all the best places and Tristan, believe it or not, has a good eye for quality.”
Maisy narrowed her gaze. Tristan was interesting. Well dressed. But young. Possibly gay — if she was lucky. Every girl wanted a gay man to dress her.
“I need all the help I can get. My hair won’t keep a curl and my feet are on the big side.”
Tristan wagged his finger. “Do you know that only four percent of women think they are beautiful? You ladies need to stop doubting yourselves.”
Maisy gave him a spontaneous hug and his face turned red.
Tristan and Joanie knew the perfect place to go. The little boutiques in Broad Ripple. Maisy spied her dress in a store window immediately. But because Heather had wanted the montage and was forcing her to send her a picture of every dress she tried on, she let Joanie and Tristan lead her all over. For fun she picked the most hideous and bizarre dresses and watched their faces.
When she was tired of trying on clothes, Maisy finally went back to the first store and tried on the winner in the window. When she came out of the fitting room, Joanie and Tristan high-fived each other.
Heather went crazy when they video-called her. She ran in circles, almost falling off the dock. In the background Lamar was yelling at her not to get her cell phone wet. Then Heather called her whole family to the phone so they could see Maisy. The oohs and ahhs were worth the wait.
Joanie nodded approvingly. “Not everyone can wear that tone.”
“Bold in a colorless way,” Tristan purred.
Then Lamar popped up over Heather’s shoulder from her phone screen. “Sexy as hell!”
The dress was made of layered chiffon over charmeuse with a satin slip underlay of the same color. It clung to Maisy’s body in a style that hinted of Grecian goddess and high couture. The fabric draped around her neck and crossed her breasts, gathering at the waist and falling in a cascade that made it flow when she walked, as if gravity had been suspended.
It was the color that made Maisy catch her breath when she gazed at herself in the mirror again.
The champagne-nude tone matched her creamy skin exactly. It would have washed out most women. But it didn’t on her. It perfectly highlighted Maisy’s dark hair and dark eyes and made her skin glisten as if it had been designed just for her. It was so invisible-feeling that she had to glance twice to make sure she was wearing a dress.
With an eye on her budget, she bought shoes and, even though it made her blush in front of Tristan, she purchased a bra that would make her girls look almost as sweet as Alexa’s. She added a shawl in soft pink because, well, just because. And as Joanie reminded her, the air conditioning could be strong inside the Ritz Carlton ballroom.
Explaining that Target was one of the greatest stores in the world, Maisy begged Tristan and Joanie to stop there so she could buy large dangly gold and pearl earrings. Let all the fancy people in their expensive dresses think she had shopped at Tiffany’s. She was happy with twelve-dollar earrings and bracelets.
At six thirty that evening, she fidgeted nervously because Sam was late. She couldn’t help stepping back into the bedroom half a dozen times to admire the dress in the full-length mirror. Her hair had been styled in a twisted bun. She pulled a few tendrils loose when she left the salon. The beautician had kept it simple, darkening her eyes with a strong smoky eye pencil and using a nude-color lipstick that made her lips shimmer and highlighted her eyes.
Besides the fact that she was wearing a dress that cost as much as her paycheck, something else had occurred today. Or not occurred, as the case was. With every piece of her ensemble, a whole day of playing dress-up, she hadn’t once thought of Kevin.
All thoughts were on Sam.
She imagined the look on his face when she opened the door. Forget that wholesome-teacher comment. She was going to make him forget he’d ever said it. She wanted to pretend that she always looked like a knockout when she had a date to a gala. Less than twenty-four hours ago, they had made love on the bed, on the balcony, and eventually in the kitchen after they raided the gift basket for cookies. Tonight was going to be amazing.
When the knock finally came, Maisy tried her best to walk calmly in her strappy four-inch sandals. She put her hand on the knob and paused, arranging her face in an expression that felt pouty and sexy and willing.
She opened the door, expecting to see the world in his eyes.
***
For five shimmering seconds, Sam looked directly at the sun. It was overwhelming.
His head reeled. Like he had just crested the top of a roller coaster and was in free-fall mode. It scared the shit out of him.
Then, with a blink and a nod of his head, Sam forced himself to look away. He wished he were a different man. He would tell her she reminded him of a warrior princess. But the little boy inside him was afraid.
He gazed at his watch and took time to catch his breath. Finally, he said, “Sorry. Traffic was awful. I am afraid we are going to be late.”
He could care less if they were late. Or even if they went to the stupid gala. He wanted Maisy to himself. He couldn’t stand the idea of sharing her brilliance with anyone else.
“Is it really a big deal if we get there late?” Maisy sounded annoyed. It was his fault, of course. He was being an ass. It was just that he suddenly felt — no, he knew — that Maisy was beyond him.
He swallowed and steeled himself for another look. “You look nice.”
She mouthed the word nice as if she were trying to figure out its meaning. Then she pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. “A little different than the wholesome girl next door Kevin was going to marry, don’t you think?”
Her words hit him like a fastball to the gut. Was that what tonight was all about? Revenge? Reminding Kevin that she was sexy?
Since he’d written the abrupt note and left her still sleeping this morning, he had been off-kilter. He’d had work to do and players’ agents to talk to. He’d had to reread one contract five times and his head still wasn’t on straight. For the first time in years, he couldn’t focus on baseball. She was taking up space inside him that he didn’t have to spare. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to save that energy for the Turbos.
“Just to warn you, it’s going to be crowded and loud and hot. The food won’t be the kind you like. It will be fancy food in small portions that will keep you hungry.” And hardest of all, Kevin was going to be there. But of course, that was the point of this charade. Maybe that’s what she wanted now.
She retrieved a small purse from the kitchen counter. She moved with the reserved yet restless anger he had witnessed a couple of days ago in the horse paddock. Good thing she couldn’t spray him with a hose, although he deserved it for being such an idiot.
“Ready?” Her voice was sharp.
He waved a hand. “After you.”
She walked past him with her head up and back straight. God, she was beautiful. He should be falling all over himself, thanking her for coming to the game and the gala. He should be down on his knees with gratitude for the best sex of his life. He didn’t know how to handle this balance between what he wanted and what she needed.
She’d be furious if she knew this whole weekend was a fraud. The money for her school was from his discretionary account. He’d sent Joanie and Tristan to her door with a gift card purchased on his credit card. There was no huge donation from Zoom unless you counted donuts. Even worse, she was here because of his duplicity. If he hadn’t contacted Luther, the press wouldn’t have put the pressure on her. He had manipulated her every which way. And then there was last night. He’d screwed her. The term was as cold as he felt.
He pushed the button on the elevator and leaned against the wall. “I’m glad you enjoyed Zoom’s gift card.” Slimeball that he was, he perpetuated the myth.
“Do you think I shouldn’t have gone shopping like that?” Uh-oh. She sounded defensive. And pissed.
“No, no. That wasn’t sarcasm. I am glad you made use of it.” Every word out of his mouth was sinking deeper in quicksand.
They entered the elevator. She stared down at the floor while he watched the numbers light up on the control panel.
Tonight was going to suck. Maisy was going to be fawned over and adored by every man in the room. Including Kevin. The man she had loved since she was a girl.
The thought made him sick. They walked through the lobby in silence.
Inside the limousine, the air felt hot and uncomfortably heavy. Being in close proximity to Maisy was torture. She smelled like a secret garden on a hot summer night. How was it possible to get a hard-on so quickly? Sam grabbed a glass and a bottle of scotch from the bar in front of him. He took a sip and readjusted himself.
Maisy dropped her gaze to his pants as if reading his mind. “How’s your…”
Sam coughed and almost spewed scotch on the back of the driver’s head.
”—toe?” Maisy finished.
He sent her a stiff smile and gritted through it. “Fine.”
In an effort to get his one-track mind out of the gutter, he went for bland. “Last year it was pouring for this event. Glad I don’t need the umbrella tonight.”
“Oh, me, too.” Maisy stared out the window and nodded vaguely. “Yup. Sure am glad it’s not raining.”
The tension in the limo was sucking the oxygen out of the air. This whole thing was a hell of a lot more complicated than fixing the Turbos’ budget or negotiating a multiplayer trade.
Maisy’s knee bobbed up and down wildly. No way was he going to stop it. Touching her would be the death of him.
Eventually, she sucked in a breath and skewered him with a hard stare. “Maybe you’ve been around baseball too long, Sam. So, let me give you a pointer.” She enunciated each word as if it came with a sharp knife.
“A pointer?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of like advice from a batting coach. Only this one is advice from a woman.”
He lifted the glass to his lips, but Maisy grabbed it from him before it got there and tossed the amber liquid back in one gulp.
She handed him back his glass. “This very important rule for any man is fairly simple. When a woman is dressed up and answers the door, he pretends to admire her. Not just with his eyes but with his mouth.”
Playing dumb was easier than begging forgiveness. “You want a kiss?”
“No, you idiot. I meant that he should give her a compliment.”
“I told you you look nice.”
“Epic fail, buddy. You wouldn’t describe a batting swing that way.”
Most women would have sulked for hours if a man failed to give a compliment. Maisy came right out and said it. She was incredible.
He was just about to tell her when she put two fingers to his mouth. “Shut up. It doesn’t mean anything now.”
After that, she sat rigidly and stared out the window. It wasn’t far to the Ritz Carlton. The line was short on the ridiculous red carpet.
At the curb, the driver stepped out and walked around the limo.
Sam couldn’t stand it anymore. He took a chance and leaned toward her, putting his lips close to Maisy’s ear. “You look hot as hell and the only reason my tongue is tied is because another part of my body is using up more energy right now.” He inhaled the scent of lilies and bourbon. Who would have guessed they could go so well together? “Say the word and we can ditch everything and go back to my place.”
A little gasp escaped her mouth. Then her lips curled in a sweet smile. “Too late.”
She was out of the car before he could say anything else. Amused and not surprised, Sam stepped out, hopeful that the fresh air and an aching toe would distract him from the pressure in his loins.
Ahead of him, Maisy was enveloped in flashing lights and people shouting her name. She walked toward the red carpet, a solitary and brave figure. Sam caught up with her and put a hand on her elbow.
“Take my lead,” he muttered as he waved to the people behind the gold cords and smiled for photographers.
She gave an imperceptible nod of her head. Then she moved with all the grace of a star on the red carpet in Hollywood.
“This is surreal,” she said under her breath as they entered the lobby.
“You should see it during Indy Weekend,” he said grimly. He hated this stuff with a passion. Sports and glitz did not go together.
The lobby was filled with gorgeous women of all ages, middle-aged men in tailored tuxedoes that were definitely not rented, and supersized athletes who greeted one another with manly hugs.
They had taken no more than three steps across the room when Zoom’s voice rose above the crowd. “Maisy! Maisy! Come on over and let me introduce you to a few people.”
Sam knew how this went. Every year Zoom had a pet that he paraded around the gala, introducing them to his business acquaintances and old buddies from whichever club he used to belong to. Last year it had been Travon Becker, the rookie outfielder. Before that it had been Blake Alokar, the catcher. This year, it was Maisy.
Sam hung back, waiting to come to her aid if necessary. As she moved about the lobby, smiling and posing for pictures with Zoom, he found a pillar and leaned against it.
“I’d rather be down by a dozen runs in the ninth than be at this thing,” a rough voice said behind him.
Fuzzy. The old field manager still managed to look like a grizzled coach, even in a tux.
Sam shook his hand. “Me, too.”
Fuzzy jerked his thumb toward Zoom and Maisy. “Hard to believe so many people think the only thing keeping us from losing is that little lady over there.”
Sam frowned as an oversized man with huge eyebrows and no hair ogled Maisy’s breasts. The way the material was draped, they were outlined perfectly. Last night they had been his…
“Proud of yourself?”
Sam was startled by Fuzzy’s question. “How did you—?”
Then he stopped. Fuzzy was referring to the game, not his sinful evening.
Shit. He couldn’t think in a straight line where Maisy was concerned.
Fuzzy swept his hand in an arc, as if he were presenting the whole city to Sam. “You made them happy, Sam.”
Sam put his hands in his pockets. “I guess.” He didn’t add for once.
“Just one thing. I’m curious why you had her come to last night’s game.”
Sam often thought the old man was too smart for the dugout. Fuzzy belonged in his office. Maybe even the Oval Office.
“Last night was the game she could make.”
Fuzzy turned to him, no sunflower seeds in his cheek for once. “In a week, Halderman pitches against the Blue Jays. They’re hitting nothing but air and popcorn flies. The odds of us winning are far greater...if a lucky win is what you wanted.”
Sam said nothing. Which meant Fuzzy had his answer.
Fuzzy wore a bemused half smile. “So now what are we going to do? Are we going to have to bring that little lady on the road with us?”
Maisy was posing for another photo with Zoom and a dozen older men now. “This is going to get out of hand.”
“Superstition is baseball’s mascot, Sam. I’ve got a shortstop who won’t change his boxers on game day and an outfielder who takes the same pair of socks on the road with him.”
Zoom had Maisy by the elbow. Over the general noise of the crowd, Sam could hear him say, “Let’s go see our lucky boy.”
Sam pushed away from the pillar and headed toward her without saying good-bye to Fuzzy. He caught up with Zoom and Maisy by the time they entered the ballroom. Thousands of glittering lights hung from the ceiling. Red fabric cascaded down the walls. The room looked like a cross between a Christmas tree and a cheap brothel.
Zoom had a hand on Maisy’s back, impelling her toward a prime table near the dance floor. Maisy paused and looked behind her. “Sam?”
He stepped to her side, kicking himself for his earlier behavior. Before he could pull her aside, Zoom redirected Maisy’s attention to the couple standing in front of them.
“I think you two have met before,” he said with bravado.
Then, Maisy made a play that was bolder than any he had witnessed on the field in years. She smiled brightly and stepped forward, opening her arms to Kevin Halderman. The two of them embraced like long-lost lovers.
Sam clenched his fist and slapped it into his palm as a collective sigh filled the room. Something that sounded suspiciously like a sob escaped Alexa Ventura, who stood at Kevin’s side.
“My God, Maisy. You look gorgeous!” Kevin said as if he had no idea that six hundred people were eavesdropping. Several guests took out their phones to record the intimate reunion.
Zoom laughed in delight. “Together for the first time in years. This is a helluva wonderful night, isn’t it?” He jabbed Sam in the ribs with his elbow.
Sam wished he had on the old breastplate he used to wear as a catcher. It would protect him from the real blow that hit him square in chest. For the past few days, he had operated under the assumption that it was Maisy’s pride that was keeping her from the ballpark. Her reluctance, her contempt for the superstition of the fans, even her anger at Kevin were all reasons for not attending a game. But now as he watched her look up at Kevin, the blazing heat in her eyes told a new story.
His world turned upside down. His toe started to throb like hell. And Sam realized that Maisy Gray still had strong feelings for her childhood sweetheart.
***
After last night, this might be the second-best moment of the summer. She knew it was mean, but Maisy took great pleasure in the extra padding she felt around Kevin’s middle when they embraced. It was tempting to tug his fake-looking beard and scratch the growing bare spot on the back of his head just for fun.
Kevin had changed. And not in a good way. In a few years he was going to look like a man who belonged on a reality TV show titled Dumpy Old Men Who Used to Play Ball.
She stepped away and let Kevin rattle on about how grateful he was that she was here to support him and the team. When the statuesque blond with big boobs pushed upward like perfect grapefruits stepped forward, Maisy extended her hand and shook as hard as she could to see if they would burst out of her tight dress.
Maisy could win a frickin’ Academy Award with her acting skills tonight. Only, with her luck, she’d win the supporting actress award. She would be the wholesome girl who didn’t get the leading man because he was too busy worrying about being late and ignoring her gorgeous outfit.
Everyone was staring at her, measuring her reaction to Kevin. Even Sam looked at her as if she were going to turn into a pumpkin at any moment. Admittedly, her knees felt wobbly. But the heels were higher than she was used to wearing. Someone pushed a chair gently into the back of her knees and she sat.
She turned to thank Sam and realized her gallant gentleman was none other than Fuzzy Waslaske. He winked at her and moved around the table to seat a kind-looking older woman.
“I’m Lorraine Waslaske,” the lady said with a nod.
Sam started to sit down on her right, but Zoom spoke up. “Let Kevin sit there, Sam. These two birds have a lot of catching up to do.”
After an awkward moment, Sam stepped back and let Kevin take his seat. Maisy watched him retreat to the other side of Alexa with no protest. Traitor.
A gorgeous Benedict Arnold.
As annoyed as she was at Sam, she could barely take her eyes off him tonight. The black tux with its European cut was tailored to perfection. Her hands itched to mess up the perfect wave in his hair.
Tristan arrived at the table, pulling out a chair on the other side of Sam.
“No date again this year, Tristan,” said Zoom in an embarrassingly loud voice. “I pay good money for that seat, boy. Next time let me know. I’ll get my niece to come keep you company.”
Tristan looked as excited as a twelve-year-old being told to dance with his sister.
Servers in white waistcoats poured champagne and brought out the first course. Maisy stole a glance at Sam as he picked at his lettuce. What would he do if she took him up on his earlier offer and left with him right now? Was he brave enough?
“It’s been way too long.” Kevin talked as if there’d never been any ugly breakup.
“Has it, Kevin? Has it really been too long?” Maisy asked, dragging her eyes away from Sam.
“I grew a beard.” He grinned, proud of himself.
“Look at you all grown-up.” She downed her champagne in one long gulp.
“Like it?” he asked, leaning her way.
“It covers your face nicely.”
He tilted his head, trying to figure out if that was a good thing. His chin was the weakest part of his all-American-boy face. “They call this a ducktail.”
So, Kevin had a mallard’s butt on his face. She tried not to laugh. But she was failing terribly. She dropped her napkin and dipped under the table so she could let the snort, that came with a delicate burp, loose. She took a moment to recover and admire a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes that came into view.
Maisy popped back up just as Zoom’s wife, Veronica, settled in the empty seat beside Zoom, a martini glass in hand. “What did I miss?”
“I was just about to ask Maisy and Kevin how long they have known each other,” Zoom said.
Maisy stuffed a cucumber in her mouth and chewed. Memory road was not a place she felt like driving down tonight.
Kevin felt differently. “We met in elementary school and were inseparable.”
Maisy almost choked. Did Kevin just use the word inseparable? Not a great word considering the woman who had separated them was sitting on the other side of him.
Kevin recounted old times as they made their way through the first course. He got several details wrong, like the name of the teacher who gave them detention in tenth grade for passing love notes behind his back and the coach of the varsity baseball team who called Maisy Kevin’s little curve ball.
God, it was mortifying!
“Maisy was so angry she put a cockroach in my coach’s coffee mug.” Kevin laughed so hard a piece of bread came out the side of his mouth.
“It was fake,” Maisy explained to Veronica, who looked like she might not be able to eat otherwise.
“It was?” Kevin was disappointed. He scratched his head and loosened part of his new comb-over. “Uhhh, so how are your…parents?”
Like he’d ever cared. “They’re fine.”
“Your mother’s health?” She was mildly surprised. He’d never brought up mom’s disease. “My mother tells me she is still driving.”
The meaning was implied. Kevin’s mother had asked about nursing homes as soon as Maisy told her the diagnosis. It had taken all of Maisy’s self-control not to throttle the woman.
Without looking up from his salad, Sam commented, “Maisy’s mom outmaneuvered my Cadillac outside of Comeback just last week. She drives better than an Indy driver.”
Kevin screwed up his face. “Mrs. Gray? She drives like my grandma, Hunter. You must have been smoking dope. Or maybe she was.” Kevin slouched back in his chair and laughed at his stupid joke.
Sam glared at Kevin.
Lorraine Waslaske smoothly diverted the conversation from Kevin’s crude comment. “Sam, thank you so much for sending the dining gift card to Fuzzy and me for our fortieth anniversary.”
“Wasn’t that gift card from you, Zoom?” Fuzzy asked.
Zoom shook his head. “Why the hell would I do that? It’s not my anniversary.”
“Joanie is a great secretary,” Sam mumbled, still frowning at Kevin.
Maisy watched him closely. Odd. Sam was the dealmaker. The aggressive young manager with attitude and guts. Not some sort of generous softie who arranged gifts for people’s anniversary. Lorraine must be wrong.
“Joanie is a great secretary. But don’t pretend, Sam. You always take care of the people you work with,” Lorraine said.
Kevin snorted. “Hey, Sam, you never sent me any gift cards.”
Kevin’s poor multimillion-dollar salary must be painful as hell. Maisy wanted to stuff her napkin in his mouth. Since when had Kevin turned into such a social moron? Granted, they had both been young, and most of their conversations revolved around baseball, but she didn’t remember being so annoyed by him.
Alexa flipped her hair and shifted to Sam. As they spoke quietly with their heads together, Maisy didn’t like the way she lowered her upper body so Sam could get a view. No way were those real.
Kevin poked his head in Maisy’s line of vision. “So how was it Sam ended up getting you to the ballpark? He went to Comeback?”
Zoom straightened his ridiculous pink donut bow tie. “Sam was there to issue my official invitation to Maisy. I wanted to let her know that we had a place for her in the owner’s box and a special apartment for her at the Commodore when she came to a game.”
Alexa was smiling, as if Sam was the most charming man in the room. She released a silvery laugh. Alarm bells that hinted of déjà vu went off in Maisy’s head.
Zoom was still talking. “I knew that Maisy would be happy to help Kevin and the city. Never doubted it for a moment.”
Maisy shifted her disgust away from the intimate huddle across the table and set Zoom straight. “Sam couldn’t drive. And you were being so generous with my students.”
Zoom thought that was funny. He had the kind of laugh that sounded like a sneeze. “I hope they’re hungry.”
It was an odd way to put it. “For school supplies? Absolutely. We all are.”
“School supplies? What are you talking about?”
Sam broke off his conversation with Alexa. “Remember? You used money from the Turbos’ community grant to support the kids at Maisy’s school?”
Zoom cranked up the side of his face. “I did?”
Veronica Zumaeta reached over and took Zoom’s intricately folded and unused napkin from the table and put it in his lap. “Don’t you get it? Sam must have taken care of that for you, Charlie.” Then she leaned across him and said to Maisy, “Charlie can be tight with his checkbook. Cheap Charlie, I used to call him. But over the years, I’ve learned how to handle him.” She flashed her bejeweled wrist.
Fuzzy snorted. His wife hushed him. Before Maisy could ask any more questions, Fuzzy was complaining about the food and asking a server if they had hamburgers.
Maisy ran her hand across the silky fabric of her dress and wondered if the gift card had been Sam’s idea, too. Joanie and Tristan had specifically told her not to mention it to Zoom. She’d forgotten. An uneasy feeling sunk in the pit of her stomach. Someone had used a lot of weapons in his arsenal to make her come to the stadium and the gala. That someone had also supplied her with last night’s tequila. That someone was avoiding her gaze at this very moment as he discussed California with Alexa Ventura.
The meal was just as Sam had told her it would be. Each course was an artistic masterpiece with sauces of various colors decorating each plate in fancy swirls and combinations. The meat was tender and perfectly done, the vegetables crisp and hot. The portions were tiny. Through it all, Maisy let Zoom and Kevin dominate the conversation. They talked about everything from the tailoring of their suits to the nightlife in Indianapolis.
Maisy was struck by how superficial Kevin sounded. When he name-dropped two Hollywood stars he had partied with last time the team was in LA, she almost dumped her crème brûlée in his lap.
Growing up, Maisy had hung on every word Kevin had ever said. She’d laughed at his clumsy jokes and told herself that she was the only one who truly understood him. Tonight, not only were his jokes dumb, but the way he smacked as he chewed his food irritated her to no end. It was hard not to compare him to Sam.
Kevin’s nose was too small. His hair too thin. His eyebrows didn’t do the cute lopsided thing the way Sam’s did. Kevin was taller and more broad-shouldered. But at over six feet, Sam was not petite, either. Uh…no. After last night she could definitely say that Sam was not petite.
Maisy smiled at her own joke. She wished Zoom hadn’t forced Sam to sit on the other side of the table tonight. It felt like they were miles apart. He was acting like a different person tonight. She wanted to get to the bottom of it, confront him, find out what was wrong. At least they could talk on the ride home. And then maybe later…
Her eyes drifted to Tristan, who was watching her with a solemn expression. How long had she been making moon eyes at Sam? She dug into the rest of her meal and nodded at appropriate points in the conversation.
The host of the event gave a short speech and then auctioned off a vacation to Europe and a Ford Fusion. Zoom bragged beside her that he could get a better deal than the winning bids. The money was going to charity. He missed the point completely. Zoom missed a lot, as a matter of fact. It was amazing how a man with no tact could get ahead in the world of donuts. Poor Sam. Working for Zoom must be like managing a second team.
With the speeches complete and most of the guests finished with their entrees, the band started its opening notes. Spotlights streaked across the dance floor and the lights dimmed. Maisy was reminded of the balcony last night and the way the lights danced across the horizon. They still had more than half the bottle of tequila left. Could they leave early? She tried to catch Sam’s eye. But Sam was talking to Lorraine now. Short of waving her hands over her head, she didn’t know how to get her message across to him.
Giving up, Maisy folded her napkin and gathered her purse. The restroom beckoned. She needed a break from the two men bragging beside her.
Zoom stopped her. “Hey, Kevin, you two should go out there and dance.”
Kevin jumped on it. “Great idea. Come on, Maisy. Let’s see if you still dance like you used to.”
Maisy pressed her back against the chair. “No. No. I don’t think I—”
Kevin pulled her up. “It’s just for the first dance. Come on. Everyone expects it.”
“You’ll tire yourself out.”
“I am giving myself permission to dance two songs tonight,” he said smugly.
“I promised Sam…” She paused. Sam couldn’t dance with a fractured toe. But he could take her away from all this. More than anything, she wanted to leave.
Kevin wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Sam’s not really your date, Maisy. Zoom just made him take you so you could sit at our table. He’s not offended, right, Sam?”
“Maisy can do whatever she wants to do,” Sam said evenly.
The betrayal felt like a million tiny paper cuts to her heart. How could he do this to her? Sam was offering her up to Kevin like a pig on a platter. As if the two of them hadn’t shared the hottest sex ever just last night.
Maisy gathered her pride, and instead of crawling under the table like she wanted to, she stood up and bestowed a warm smile on Kevin. “Sure.”
She could feel the stir of interest as Kevin led her to the dance floor. The band was playing a mellow song and the two lead singers, a man and a woman, were singing about love “on hold.” The introduction started slowly. Maisy’s muscle memory allowed Kevin to pull her close. Her feet followed Kevin’s lead without thinking.
At first she was stiff. She didn’t want to be part of a rerun. But as more couples joined the dance floor, she relaxed and shifted into automatic pilot. Sam was AWOL. And a little part of her wanted to make him jealous. Besides, she loved to dance. Other than the yearly staff party, dancing was something she only did on her students’ desks these days. If she pretended that Kevin was a faceless man, it would be fine. She let herself enjoy it just like she used to. Just this once.
The tempo slowed, and Kevin took Maisy in his arms, holding her hand to his chest and resting his chin on top of her head. She slipped out from under that duck-butt beard, startled that he thought that kind of intimacy was okay.
He added air between them and apologized, “Aww, Maisy. I forgot for a moment. It’s so easy being around you tonight. Just like old times.”
“Well, it’s not old times.”
He ignored her comment. “It was fun back then, wasn’t it?”
“For you,” she bit back.
He curved his mouth down and sent her the puppy-dog look she was way too familiar with. It was unfair to puppies everywhere and made her feel like an animal abuser for wanting to wipe it off his face. It used to mean he needed something from her. A special home-cooked meal. A back rub. Or a companion for some long tournament where she would be stuck with his mother in the stands.
“You loved it, Maize.”
“I loved baseball.” And you, she didn’t admit.
“I thought it was about us.”
“Only if you spell us with an i.”
He screwed up his face. “I-S…Is? Or eye-us? I don’t get it.”
She stepped back. The song wasn’t finished. But she was. “Never mind.”
He followed her to the table.
“Marvelous!” Zoom and Veronica said, clapping at their performance. Sam was deep in conversation with Fuzzy and didn’t even look her way.
Maisy couldn’t stand how he was ignoring her. She grabbed her purse. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said to anyone who was listening. Not Sam.
Five minutes later, when she came out of the stall, she was surprised to see Alexa seated in front of the mirror. Maisy put her head down and headed toward the door. The powder room was empty, so no need for fake smiles and small talk.
“I suppose you think he wants you back now that you’re his good-luck charm.”
Maisy pivoted and met Alexa’s gaze in the mirror.
“You really expect me to answer that?”
Alexa reached for her lipstick. Her eyes were red and there was the tiniest discoloration at the top of her ridiculously high cheekbones. She had been crying.
For some irrational reason, Maisy almost felt sorry for the other woman. Until Alexa opened her mouth again.
“Your rubbing and twerking up against Kevin was pathetic. But then again, I guess it’s been a while for you.”
Twerking? Please. She had not twerked. If she had, the room would have known it, because despite what anybody thought, she was a good twerker.
Even though it was beneath her, Maisy went low. “I twerk plenty these days. You? Oops, sorry. I seem to remember that Kevin likes to conserve his energy during the season.”
Alexa’s face turned red. Maisy knew she’d struck a nerve. Alexa lashed back with a fake little titter. “Is that what he used to tell you? Maybe that’s why he left you for me.”
Maisy laughed. “Thanks for confirming it. I always did think it was about the twerking.”
Alexa slapped her lipstick in her purse. “What are you saying? I’m not worthy of Kevin outside the bedroom?”
There were so many ways to answer that question. Maisy jumped back on the high road instead. “Good night, Alexa.”
Alexa wasn’t finished. She blocked Maisy’s exit. “Are you trying to get him back?”
“What?” Maisy was stunned by the desperation in her voice.
Alexa clutched her purse to her chest as if it was a shield. “I know you blame me for everything that happened. But I had no idea that Kevin had a girlfriend when I met him—”
“Fiancée. We were engaged.”
Alexa’s shoulders caved in. She didn’t look like a supermodel now. “I didn’t know. Not until weeks later when he’d broken it off with you.”
Maisy raised her chin. “Am I supposed to feel better about that?”
“Don’t think I haven’t paid the price. Especially this summer.” Her nose was running. It was a bad look for a cover girl. “We’ve been together for more than three years and suddenly I’m the evil girlfriend. His teammates won’t even talk to me. And his mother is a—” She stopped herself.
“Welcome to life with Kevin Halderman.” She said it more gently than she intended.
“At least everyone likes you.”
“If you’re so miserable, why are you still with him?”
Alexa’s wet eyes grew wider as if she couldn’t believe Maisy would ask the question. “Because he loves me.”
“Better than himself?”
The bathroom door opened and Maisy was forced to step aside as a guest passed her. Her last question had been cruel, but she had been surprised by Alexa’s reason for staying with Kevin. It hadn’t been because I love him. It had been because he loves me. What kind of life had Alexa led that made being loved more important than loving back?
Suddenly Maisy felt horrible. Alexa and Kevin were two sorry souls who didn’t understand how to give.
And she was a sorry soul who gave without getting anything back.
Alexa caught herself in the mirror. She desperately wiped her eyes and mascara smeared. She looked like a teenage girl who had gotten dumped at prom. There was a lot of growing up that came after moments like that.
Maisy grabbed a tissue and set it in Alexa’s hands. “Here, Alexa. There are more where these came from. You’re going to need them.”
***
Sam pushed his wine away and asked the waiter if they had a Budweiser.
“Sorry. But there’s a great craft beer selection at the bar,” the man said.
Sam shook his head and stared at his glass. He hated this gala more and more each year.
“Maisy is something else, isn’t she?” Kevin asked.
Since there was no one else in hearing range, Sam figured he was talking to him. “Yup.”
“So, what do you think? Should I hook up with her again?”
Shit. Was he in some offbeat horror film or what? He couldn’t figure out whether to laugh at Kevin’s ludicrous suggestion or stab him with the butter knife. How had this dunderhead ever had a chance at someone like Maisy Gray?
Zoom was suddenly in the conversation. “I definitely think you should get back together with her, Halderman.” He moved his chair closer to Kevin. “Don’t get me wrong. Alexa is one beautiful woman. Gorgeous, and that body—”
Both Sam and Kevin, to his diminishing credit, frowned at Zoom.
He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I won’t talk that way. But let’s admit it. Maisy is pretty, especially in that cute little dress she has on tonight. She’s your special charm, Halderman. If you play like that when that girl is in the stadium, you can’t ignore the opportunity. And the fans. They’ll love it.”
Kevin nodded as if he hadn’t considered the angle. Sam stood up. He couldn’t take it anymore. The bar in the lobby might have a Bud and a television with preseason football. He’d tell Maisy to call him when she was ready to leave.
He was halfway across the lobby when he almost ran over Alexa.
“Whoa. Sorry,” he said, gripping her shoulders to steady her.
Her eyes were full of tears and she was gulping in that terrifying way that women did when they were losing control. He had seen that look often from his sisters. It took hours to recover their senses when they were this upset.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
She blew her nose into a soggy tissue. “Everything is—it’s awful. Can you get me out of here? Please.”
“I’ll get you a cab.”
“A cab? You think I can just go home alone in a cab?” she shrieked, reaching some impressive decibels. “Hurry. Before Kevin sees me. He doesn’t like to see women cry.”
With rising alarm, Sam scanned the room for someone better suited to handle this. But except for a few men who had wanted their pictures taken with her, he had been the only one talking to Alexa most of the night. It was up to him by default.
He should find Maisy. But she, apparently, was having a grand old time reliving the old days with Kevin. Out there twirling on the dance floor, Maisy had seemed to be enjoying herself earlier. Sam’s hands still ached from clenching his hands into fists under the table. No wonder Alexa was upset. He was, too. Mostly with himself. He couldn’t get Maisy Gray out of his head.
It was time to face facts. He and Maisy had no future. She cared about small towns and kids. He cared about his job. She needed someone who made time for her. He had none. She deserved someone to put her on a pedestal. The only pedestal in Sam’s life was the one that might someday hold the World Series trophy.
It was time to let her go. He cared too much about Maisy to put her in a losing game.
“All right. I’ll take you home, Alexa. Let me just tell someone I’m leaving. Stay here.”
Sam found Tristan near the ballroom door, staring at his phone.
“I’m taking Alexa home. Can you make sure Maisy gets back to the Commodore?”
Tristan looked up. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Why?” Sam challenged him.
“Because you and Maisy are together…tonight.”
Sam gazed at Tristan’s phone. “This from a man who plays video games at a black-tie event?”
Tristan shrugged. “This game is good for the mind. It’s about two of a kind and thinking ahead.”
“All this from a game?”
“Jelly with jelly. Stripe with stripe. You don’t get anywhere if you don’t make good choices.” Tristan was looking at him like he was dense.
“Speaking of using your brain, did you hear what I just said?” He had just spent the night taking himself out of contention with Maisy, and he was standing in the lobby discussing Candy Crush with Tristan Staub. His head ached. His toe was throbbing. And he wanted to get drunk. But he couldn’t. He had to get Alexa home. He had work to catch up on. He had a girl to get out of his head.
Tristan frowned and went back to his phone. “Yeah, I heard you. Make sure Maisy gets home.”
Sam walked away.
Before he was out of earshot, Tristan spoke up. “You should play this sometime. You might learn a thing or two about problem solving.”
Sam whirled around, out of patience with Tristan’s attitude. “I’m in this thing because of you and your games. If I’d followed my own advice, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Tristan pursed his lips as if he had a secret. “The fans and Zoom are happy. We won. What mess are you talking about, Sam?”
Little shit. Sam should fire him for being such a know-it-all.