Authors: Lynne Jaymes
One Last Night
One Last Night
by
Lynne Jaymes
A prequel novella to One
True Thing
One True Thing
Lynne Jaymes
Copyright © 2014 by Lynne Jaymes
Smashwords Edition
Cover Design by © Helen Williams,
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Ty’s Last Night
“Surprise!”
The entire back room at Oceana erupts as soon
as we turn the corner.
Shit
is all I can think, once my heart
stops pounding. It looks like everyone I’ve ever met is here and I
know that not only did Hailey plan this whole thing, but I’d bet
anything on the fact that her parents are putting up the money for
it. So not what I planned for tonight. But I don’t have a
choice—Hailey is standing next to me practically vibrating with
happiness as she holds my hand. I have to plaster a smile on my
face and somehow get through the next several hours.“Are you
surprised, Ty?” Hailey asks, her dark eyes shining.
“Completely,” I say, and give her a kiss. I’m
sure it was a lot of work to put this whole thing together, and I
can’t be an asshole just because I’d hoped for a quiet dinner on my
last night in town, just the two of us.
She waves at a couple of the guests. “Well I
couldn’t have you take off for the middle of nowhere without a huge
send off.”
I take in the red and white balloons, the
tasteful, color-coordinated flower arrangements on every table, the
giant Garvin State banner hanging on the back wall and the pile of
gifts set up on a table by the door. Not to mention the entire room
reserved at one of the nicest restaurants in all of San Francisco.
Most people in this city can’t get a table at Oceana. Leave it to
Hailey to take over the whole place.
“It’s great,” I say. “You really outdid
yourself.”
“Come on in,” she says, pulling me further
into the room. A waiter walks by carrying a tray of champagne
flutes so Hailey grabs two and hands one to me. I’m about to say
something to her, but quickly change my mind because anything I say
is guaranteed to start another ugly fight, something we’re almost
famous for these days. After the last time, Hailey promised she’d
take it easy. I have to trust her—at least that’s what she keeps
telling me.She clinks her glass with mine, her eyes shining with
anticipation like they always do at the beginning of a party and
then drains half the glass. As the cold bubbles hit my nose like an
explosion of pinpricks, I remember why I actually hate champagne. I
look around for a waiter, wondering if I can grab a beer anytime
soon.
Even though we’ve just arrived, the party’s
already in full swing. High school friends mix with some of the
guys from my junior college baseball team, along with a bunch of
Hailey’s girlfriends who are probably just happy to be at a party
with so many single guys for a change. There’s a group in a corner
booth I don’t recognize right away—a little older, in their
late-twenties I’d guess. And then I recognize the guy in the middle
with the short black hair and neatly trimmed goatee.
“That’s not Carlos Mendez is it?”It feels
ridiculous saying it. Why would the new star closer for the SF
Giants be sitting at my going-away party?
“Yep.” Hailey snuggles against my shoulder and
looks at the booth. “He’s friends with my boss at work so I pulled
a few strings. I thought you could get some pointers. You know, for
getting into the majors.”
“You got Carlos Hill to come here?” I stare at
her in amazement.
“Of course I did.” She gets up on her toes and
kisses me, her lips tasting of gloss and champagne. “Nothing but
the best. I love you.”
“I love you too.” These days I say it out of
habit, but despite everything, I still mean it. We’ve been together
for three years—how could I not? With her smooth amber skin and
dark curly hair that falls in waves down her back, she’s one of the
most beautiful girls I’ve ever met. I still remember the first time
I laid eyes on her at that party senior year—she had a body that
looked like it belonged on the cover of a swimsuit issue but she
was drinking beer and shooting pool like one of the guys. I think I
fell in love with her the moment she sunk the eight ball, beating
some poor sucker out of his gas money for the rest of the month and
then collecting on the debt without an ounce of regret.
“Tyler!” Jason comes up and gives me a quick
hug and pat on the back. “I still can’t fucking believe you’re
leaving.”
“I can’t believe you kept this a secret,” I
say. I just saw him at our apartment an hour ago.
He smiles at Hailey. “When your girlfriend
orders you to keep a secret, you keep a secret.”
“You bet your ass you do,” Hailey says,
winking at him. She squeezes my hand and then lets go. “I’m going
to make sure everything’s good with the food, okay?”
“Okay.” I say. I watch her walk by another
waiter, depositing her empty glass on the tray and replacing it
with a full one in a quick motion. My heart sinks a little but I
have to believe Hailey’s going to be cool this time. She
promised.
“You are one lucky fuck,” Jason says, watching
her walk away.
“I know,” I say, admiring the way the short
black dress seems to float along her curves. And I do know. How
many times have I watched Hailey work a room, making people laugh
with her quick wit and having every guy wishing he was the one she
was going home with at the end of the night? And for the past nine
hundred and something nights, that’s been me.
“What are you going to do about Hailey while
you’re gone?”
I take another sip of the champagne and then
put it down on the table next to me. “What do you mean?”
“Come on,” John says, shaking his head. “With
you a couple of thousand miles away most of the year, you know
every guy in town is going to take a run at that.”
“We have an understanding,” I say, hopefully
with more confidence than I feel, because we haven’t exactly talked
about it like it’s a real thing. We were both happy when I got this
scholarship to play ball in Texas—it’s all I’ve been working for
since the day I set foot on a baseball field back in second
grade—but the actual, concrete fact that I’m getting on a plane in
less than twenty four hours hasn’t really sunk it with either of
us.
“Well,
I’m
understanding that a girl as
hot as Hailey isn’t exactly going to be sitting around at home
every night waiting for your sorry ass to call,” Jason
says.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I don’t
love the direction this conversation is heading. I see a waiter
hand a tall glass to one of the guys at Carlos’ table. “I’m going
to go see if I can find a beer.”
I push through the crowded room, shaking hands
with people I know and accepting congratulations from people I
don’t.
“Can I get a beer?” I ask the waiter with the
empty tray.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Any particular
draft?”
“You choose,” I say, thinking that a cold beer
in my hand is going to make this night a lot easier
“I’ll be right back,” he says and disappears
into the hallway.
“Tyler, right?”
I turn and see Carlos leaning up against the
corner of the booth.
“You’re the one all this is for?”
“That’s right,” I say, trying to think of
something to say that won’t make me sound like a
dumbass.
“Congratulations on the scholarship,” he says
with a friendly smile. “Garvin State is a badass baseball school—we
used to play them when I was with Indiana. You’ll do well
there.”
“Thanks.” There’s an awkward silence. “That
was a great game against the Yankees last week.” As soon as I say
it I feel like some idiot superfan, but he actually breaks into a
smile.
“I got lucky,” he says. “It almost got away
from me in the top of the ninth.”
“No way,” I say. “You had it locked up. The
minute you had Teixeira fanning at your curveball there was no way
you weren’t going to win.”
The waiter brings my beer and sets it on the
table.
Carlos indicates the empty booth next to him.
“Grab a seat,” he says.
I look around but I don’t see Hailey anywhere.
Besides, what idiot passes up an opportunity to sit next to Carlos
Mendez?
“What position do you play?” he
asks.
“Center field,” I say. I hesitate, not
entirely sure where the line is between telling and bragging. “And
usually lead-off hitter.”
“Nice,” Carlos says, sipping his beer. “Coach
Castro’s always on the lookout for a power hitter at Garvin. No
wonder he picked you up.”
“I’m just glad to get a shot,” I
say.
Carlos looks around the room. “I grew up in
Texas,” he says. “Not all that far from Garvin.” He looks back at
me, his face suddenly serious. “Texas is no San
Francisco.”
I wait for more. “I know.”
“It’s different there,” he finally continues.
“Just watch your ass, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree, not totally understanding
what he’s talking about. A couple of his friends come back and
stand next to the table and I get the hint. “I’d better go and
mingle a little bit.”
He tips his beer to me. “Look me up when you
get back in town and I’ll get you a couple of good
seats.”
“Thanks. That would be great.”
“But if I ever meet you on the mound, I won’t
take it easy.”
I smile, thinking about the prospect and how
it would feel to face Carlos at the plate. “I wouldn’t expect you
to.” I slip out of the booth and wander toward the table towering
with food. I spend the next hour eating and talking to my friends,
realizing how much I’m going to miss everyone. As exciting as it’s
going to be to play baseball at a big school, it’s going to be
weird living someplace else.
“
There you are!” Hailey throws one
arm around my neck, one hand clutching a full champagne flute. By
the slur in her words I’m guessing it’s not the same one that I saw
her with earlier. “I missed you.” She pulls me down toward her and
kisses me deeply, her tongue darting against my teeth, ignoring the
guys from my team as they stand around staring.
“I missed you too,” I say, trying to untangle
myself from her grip. My heart sinks as I try to gauge just how
drunk she is. I really don’t want to deal with this
again.
“No, I mean I
really
missed you,” she
says, pressing her hips against me and licking her lips.
Damn. She knows what that does to me. I twist
away from her just a little bit. I need to get her sobered up
before everything goes to hell. “Hey, have you eaten anything? The
crab cakes they were passing around earlier were
amazing.”
Hailey shakes her head, her long hair falling
into her eyes. “I don’t need anything to eat.” She drains the rest
of the champagne in the glass and waves it at me. “What I need is
another drink.” She grabs me by the hand and pulls me into the
crowd, noticeably unsteady in her heels. “Let’s find a
waiter.”
