“I think the apartment is clean now,” Trick says from her perch on the barstool where she’s been watching me. “In fact, it was clean two hours ago. We could eat off the floor. Would you sit down already?”
I put the dust rag away and grab a bottle of water before I plop down on the stool next to her and quench my anxiety-driven bone-dry mouth.
“You look as nervous as a whore in church,” she says, laughing.
I put my forehead down against the countertop. “I’m going to screw this up, aren’t I?”
She puts a comforting hand on my back. “You aren’t going to screw anything up, Murphy. Just be yourself. That’s the person he wants to be with. Nothing has changed.”
I look at her like she’s crazy. “Everything’s changed, Trick.”
“You said yourself you aren’t even sure this is a date. Maybe it’s not. Maybe this is you guys testing the waters or something, you know, before you decide to dive in.”
Maybe she’s right. Earlier, I let her read our texts from the other night. The ones where he called it a ‘thing.’ What does that even mean? He doesn’t want to call it a date. Maybe that’s because he’s not sure he wants it to be one. Oh, God. That’s even worse. It’s going to be like an audition or something.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
I run into the bathroom and splash some water on my face. I look at the girl in the mirror and shake my head. What happened to the calm, confident woman who could walk a runway? “Get it together, Murph,” I say to myself, pulling out my makeup to do one last re-touch. “It’s just Caden.”
I try to convince myself this is no big deal. That going to the apartment of one of the most recognized professional athletes in New York is just an everyday thing for me.
“Murphy!” Trick calls from the other room. “Caden’s here.”
I give myself one last look in the mirror. One last mental pep talk before I walk out there and try not to make a fool out of myself.
I blow out a big breath and open the door. Caden smiles when he sees me. I walk over to him, picking up my purse along the way. He takes a few steps forward and kisses me on the cheek. My flesh burns where his lips touch me. He’s kissed me like this before. But those were different. Those were friendly kisses, the same as he’d give his sister. Those weren’t lingering ones like this one. They weren’t followed by him taking a whiff of my hair. They weren’t punctuated by the inviting stare he’s giving me right now.
He touches my arm. “You ready to go?”
I smile and nod. Like a love-sick schoolgirl, I lost the ability to speak as soon as he put his hand on me.
Caden says goodbye to Trick and escorts me into the hallway. He grabs my hand on the way to the elevator.
Caden Kessler is holding my hand. Oh, my God!
His hand is big and soft, except for the calluses on his palm up by his fingers. He holds my hand confidently in his, like we’ve done it many times before. Like he hasn’t just caused my insides to flip upside down and inside out. Like he hasn’t just confirmed my deepest desire and my greatest fear all at once.
We stand silently, waiting for the elevator to arrive. I stare at our entwined hands in the shiny chrome doors. When I look up, he catches my eyes in our reflection. He leans close to me. “This isn’t a date, Murphy Brown.” Then he squeezes my hand and runs his thumb up and down across mine.
“I know,” I tell him, finally finding my words. “It’s just a thing.”
When we arrive at his apartment twenty minutes later, I realize the only time he let go of my hand was when he paid the cabbie. But he finally releases me when we walk through his door. I walk to the center of the room and spin around, taking it all in. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.
My eyes take in the view from his living room. It’s nice. Much nicer than the view at Trick’s place. But it’s not at all what I envisioned. It’s so … normal. I figured he’d have an unobstructed view of the Freedom Tower, or maybe a prized location overlooking New York Harbor.
I look at his kitchen where I’d expect to find an oversized refrigerator, a wine cooler and top-of-the-line countertops. But it looks just like Trick’s, only bigger. His living room is tastefully decorated, with a large L-shaped leather couch overlooking the view and a regular-sized flat-screen TV in the corner.
As someone who plays baseball in televised games, I was sure he’d have a big-screen TV.
“What?” he asks, seeing my reaction.
“For a guy who makes a gazillion dollars, I guess I thought you’d live in the penthouse suite with a maid and a butler.”
“I told you before, Murph, I could be living on borrowed time. I’m not about to blow my money on frivolous things and then end up homeless when I can no longer play.” Then he chuckles. “And I do have a housekeeper. Her name is Maria. She comes every Monday.”
“You said you never bring girls here. Why?”
“Same reason I don’t give them my phone number. It makes me too easy to find.”
“But you gave me your number the day we met. And now here I am, standing in your apartment.”
“You’re different, Murphy.”
“Why am I different, Caden? Why didn’t you bring Kate here? Kate was nice. I find it hard to believe you haven’t dated other nice girls. Girls who aren’t after you for anything but who you are.”
He shrugs. “You never can tell. Even with the nice ones. I’ve seen it happen too many times. Ball players get married and then end up divorced, paying child support for kids they never get to see and alimony to a woman they’ve come to despise.”
“Lots of people get divorced, you know,” I say. “Ball players haven’t cornered the market.”
“I just … it just scares me I guess.”
“What scares you?”
He looks at some pictures of his nieces on the bookshelf. “I couldn’t imagine having kids and not seeing them.”
I can’t help shifting my feet nervously. “Are you sure you don’t?” I ask.
“Have kids? I’m sure,” he says, staring me down with truthful eyes. “Came close once.”
“Really?”
He nods. “I’m sure any shrink would tell you that’s why I’m like this. About four years ago when I was playing for the Hawks’ triple-A team in Vegas, I got a girl pregnant.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “What happened?”
He motions for me to follow him into the kitchen where he opens a bottle of wine. “She was a typical groupie. It’s amazing how many women hang out around minor league ball fields just waiting to sleep with anyone in a uniform.”
I take a glass from him and sip some wine as we each find a barstool. “They’re all a bunch of Tonys, just wanting to go along for the ride when someone hits it big.”
“Exactly,” he says. “See, you understand. It’s one of the reasons I’ve always trusted you. You never wanted anything from me. You’ve been taken advantage of, too. You know how it feels.”
I look around his apartment again. “Is that why I’m here? Because you trust me?”
“Yes. Well, that and I couldn’t stop thinking about how you looked in that dress on Saturday night.”
I blush. He has no idea how much I was hoping that dress would affect him. “So, the groupie?”
“She turned up pregnant after we’d been together a few times. I was young. Barely twenty-two. I didn’t know what I was going to do. She wasn’t even my girlfriend. I couldn’t imagine marrying her, but I knew I’d have a hard time not seeing any kid I’d brought into the world.”
“What happened? She didn’t get an abortion, did she? I mean, she wouldn’t have if she were trying to trap you.”
“She had a miscarriage shortly after she told me. It was a blessing in disguise. And a huge wake-up call for me. I made sure that would never happen again.”
I tilt my head to the side, studying him. “You telling me you’re celibate, Kessler?”
He laughs at my question. “No, Old Man Murphy, I’m not celibate. But I never trust a woman to take care of birth control. And I always double wrap.”
I almost spit out the drink of wine I’m taking. “Double wrap?”
“Yeah, you know—” He mimes putting on a condom and I feel my face turn a deep shade of red.
“I know what you mean, Caden. I don’t need a visual.”
The last thing I need right now is to picture him naked, rolling on a condom. I’m barely keeping it together as it is. Because whatever this thing is, I like it. I like him. I like his apartment. I like my apartment. I like my job. I like the way he’s looking at me right now. I like the way he makes me feel. And I realize for the first time in a long time, I’m truly happy.
He winks at me and stands up, holding out his hand to me. “Come on. Let’s make some steaks.”