Playing with Fire - A Sports Romance (8 page)

F
rankie

I
sneak
in late to one of the box seats reserved for players’ families right after the first pitch. I sit in the back, burying myself under a stack of papers I pull from my tote, as if I can hide behind them. I tell myself I'm here for work. It’s the same thing I told myself for yesterday's game and the season opener the day before. It’s the same thing I told myself when I tuned in to the games in L.A. and Phoenix last week. It’s not fully a lie. I mean, if I had been paying attention to the players on the team last year instead of traveling with Vivian, I would have known Corey was on the team, and I would have stayed far away from him.

I glance around the booth after a moment, as I suddenly think to see who all is here. I'm not usually so flustered, but I feel like I'm doing something I'm not supposed to. Like I could get into trouble for sitting in the box seat that, as an upper-level staff member and, more importantly Marco's niece, I have every right to sit in.

I recognize a few of the women seated at the tables and blue padded stadium seats inside. They are the wives of some of the veteran players, the ones who have been on the team since I was much younger and came here more to play with Vivian and Vinny and eat all the hot dogs, peanuts, and ice cream we could. We’ve never spoken, really, and I’m glad for it. It’s easier to hide in the back when they don’t insist we talk.

There’s another woman I recognize, but it takes me a while to place her. She’s average height and has skin the color of chocolate milk. Her long, braided hair is tied back at her nape, and she has an understated beauty about her. I look at the young girl she’s talking to - skin like white milk instead of chocolate, hair nearly pink in the sunlight streaming through the windows. It’s not until I realize the young girl is a young woman that I understand who the other lady is. I’ve seen her picture once. Matt Cromwell pulled it out of his wallet during his interview and told me how he met her back in elementary school. His dog had a bum leg and they brought him to her father’s veterinary practice. Ellen Marshall. That’s it. She’s Matt’s long-time girlfriend, and much more pretty in person than in the faded, crumpled old picture he’d shown me.

Past Ellen and the pink-haired woman, I can see a small group of people sitting in the outdoor seating. I recognize the young blond man sitting in the front row, his arm around a thin brunette whose back is to me. The man is Vinny. I’d recognize my cousin anywhere - with his narrow shoulders and handsome face, his blond hair swept to the side but somehow always falling in his eyes. He’s the male version of his twin sister, Vivian. Only he’s smaller, fairer, and more fragile, and has been since before he was born. Even in the womb, Vivian was dominating the men in her life, sucking them dry and leaving them to fend for themselves.

I sit back in my chair and try to pay attention to the game. It isn’t long - perhaps the first time Corey takes the field to bat - before I realize who the brunette on Vinny’s arm is. Jen Lucas, Corey’s little sister. My stomach churns and I flag down one of the waitresses to ask for a ginger ale. I’d prefer something much stronger, but I’m not sure my stomach can handle it.

Corey gets a strike with the first pitch, but a double with the second. It’s enough to bring home two others on base, and with the next batter he makes it home. The crowd is going wild, even here in the box, and it’s hard not to join in. The atmosphere at the game is electric, and for a while I can forget I don’t feel I belong here. In fact, it’s the seventh inning stretch before I’m even thinking about it at all. The papers I held protectively in my lap when I first got here have made their way back into my tote, and the ginger ale turned into a glass of my favorite beer. I’ve even eaten a hot dog, and the bowl of peanuts I’ve been munching on is nearly empty.

It’s then, when I have my guard down, that someone slips into the seat next to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. I’m about to punch him in the face before I realize who it is.

“Vinny! Shit, don't sneak up on me like that.”

“Hey, cuz. How ya been?” Vinny beams at me, flashing his perfect smile. Before I can answer, though, another runner makes it home and the crowd roars. When we settle back in our seats, Vinny slips his arm around my shoulders again.

“I’m good, you?”

“Never better, never better,” he says. He glances over to Jen, still seated in their earlier spot, before turning back to wink at me.

“I see that,” I say, nodding in her direction. At that moment, Jen turns in her chair and looks through the window, through the box, directly at me. She raises her hand and smiles at me, as if we’ve been friends all our lives. I wave back before I remember I don't want to be friendly with the girl.

“Look, I’m not giving you a chance to say no,” Vinny says. “We’re taking you out tonight.”

“No.”

“You don’t get a choice, Frankie. A bunch of us are going out, and you're coming with.”

“No, I’m not, Vinny.”

“Frankie…” He stops and looks at me, those blue eyes like a Siberian Husky puppy. “Come on, Frankie. It would mean a lot to me.”

“No.”

“Jen wants you there.”

“No… What?” I ask. I risk a glance at Jen and find her still standing there looking in at me. She doesn’t look much like Corey at all. But, like a teenage girl with her first big crush, I’ve been staring at his picture in the souvenir program for the past two weeks, and I can see a slight resemblance. In the shape of their noses, and the way their eyes squint and shine when they smile. It’s almost unnoticeable, but I can see now what I couldn’t when I first met the girl.

“She wants you to come. Say yes, Frankie. Make us both happy.”

“Vinny, she doesn’t know me,” I try to argue.

“She likes you, cuz. Remember when we met that night? She felt so bad for you after the way her brother treated you, and she really started to feel close to you.”

I force myself not to shake my head. I can still see her standing there, watching. I can’t believe what my cousin’s saying. Jen and I barely spoke that night. She was lost in Vinny’s world through most of it, and after a short interrogation about what Corey did before he stormed out of the bar, she went on her way and I on mine.

Vinny squeezes my shoulder with his hand, bringing me back from that night at the bar to the present. I glance over at him and take in his puppy dog eyes. “Please, Frankie? For me and Jen?”

My stomach starts to churn again and I’m starting to regret the hot dog and beer. “Who’s going to be there?”

Vinny pulls me to him and kisses my cheek. “You’re the best, cuz. Come find us after the game, ‘kay?”

I groan and pull away from my cousin. “Whatever.” Now I
feel
like a teenage girl.

Before the final inning is finished, before I can grab my bag and escape the box and my cousin, he’s there with Jen, waiting for me at the door.

“You ready?” Vinny asks, smiling as if he knows I was trying to sneak out.

“I need to run home and change.” I gesture to the black trousers and a white blouse I wore to work this morning.

“You look fine.” He rolls his eyes as he laughs at me.

“At least let me put my bag in my car, then.”

Vinny grabs my tote from my shoulder. “You’re going to be out late. Why don't we stop by your office and leave it here for the night?” He laughs again as I glare at him. “You're not getting out of this, cuz. We’re taking you out with us.”

Jen looks so sad, and all I can think about is how much Corey cares for her, how heartwarming it is that he does. I don’t think he’d want her to be sad, and for the life of me I can’t understand why I want to make her happy, too.

“Fine,” I say, and Jen’s face lights up. “My office is downstairs.” I begin walking away without looking back, leaving Vinny to carry my heavy tote. They follow behind me, their shoes echoing across the clean tile floors even over the loud music and celebrating crowd.

I try stalling in my office, dawdling over my computer, checking my voicemail one last time. Vinny stands there watching me with a frown on his face while Jen looks out my window over the departing crowd. When I’ve run out of things to do, Vinny slings one arm over Jen’s shoulders and offers the other to me before leading us out, down the back stairs, and to his waiting Town Car.

C
orey

I
cannot even begin
to explain how much I don't want to be here right now. Club Forte is the hottest new club in town, and I’ve been roped into going tonight. Matt gave me hell for bailing on him and Ramon back in Phoenix, leaving them to deal with an abandoned and upset Ashley. In retrospect, he was too calm about it. And now I know why. He planned all along to make me pay him back, and I'm not talking about the money for my tab.

Of course, my little sister would be in on it. Introducing her to Matt, Ellen, and Ramon last year was a mistake. They kept in touch, and one way or another, the four of them decided it would be freaking hilarious to drag me out to this club tonight. Jen played it off as a celebration - three out of three of our first home games. I have no doubt they have something up their sleeves. Just as I'm now sure that Emily went searching for someone for me back in Phoenix - someone who was unfortunate enough to have the wrong name.

The only thing that can make this night worse than it’s already set out to be is the fact that Jen’s going to be here with her new boyfriend. Her clingy, rich boyfriend, who not only flew halfway across the country to see her shortly after they met, but also paid to fly her back for the week so she could be here for the spring opener. Sure, he seems all sweet on her, and it’s nice of him to use his considerable wealth to fly my sister in for the games. But it rubs me the wrong way. Jen and I aren't from money. We’ve never been able to hop a plane and fly wherever we want. This guy has more means than brains, I think, and I don't want Jen wrapped up with someone like that. I don't see it ending well.

The only good thing about tonight is they’ve all let me sit here in our black velvet-covered booth, nursing a bottle of beer, with little interruption. Matt and Ellen disappeared into the dance floor before our drinks even arrived, Ramon and Emily are at it again on the other side of the booth, and Jen and lover boy haven't gotten here yet.

“Ah, let me guess, my brother is running fashionably late again?”

I glance up and find a knockout gorgeous brunette standing in front of me. She’s wearing a lascivious little black dress. A deep-V plunges to her navel and the skirt clings so tight against her thighs I have to wonder how she can walk in that thing. That, and the five-inch fuck-me stilettos on her feet.

“Corey, right?” the woman asks as she slides into the bench at my side. She holds out her hand, not as if she wants to shake, but instead as if she expects me to kiss it. I furrow my brow and run my hand over my chin.

“I'm sorry, have we met?” She looks familiar, but I can't place her.

“I'm Vivian,” she says, dropping her hand to my knee and pressing her chest forward in an obvious attempt to get my attention. When I don't react, she elaborates. “I'm Vinny’s sister. We met last month.”

“Vinny?” I'm trying, I really am, but I cannot for the life of me remember this dame. Vivian looks at me like I'm dense, and maybe I am. I should remember meeting someone as beautiful as she is.

“Vinny,” she assures me. “He’s dating your sister?”

Oh shit. “Vinny! Oh, yes!” Shit. “Sorry, I uh…”

“Don't worry about it.” Vivian removes her paw from my leg to flag down a waitress. She turns back to me, but before she can say another word, Vinny is sliding into the booth next to her with my sister in tow.

“Viv,” he says, “you remember Jen?” Without waiting for an answer, he leans around his sister and looks at me, extending his hand in my direction. “Corey, right? I'm Vinny.”

“Yeah, hey, how’s it going?” The man has a firm grip, I'll give him that. He doesn't look the type. He looks all weak, like he might wither in direct sunlight.

“Hey Tiger!” Jen leans over the short table with her arms extended, and I stand to give her an awkward hug.

“Jenny, good to see you.”

Jen pulls back and glares at me for using her much-despised nickname. I know how much she hates it. She knows I know. But I do it to make a point - I'm not happy she dragged me out here tonight.

“You remember Frankie, right?”

As Jen turns to the side to slide into the booth next to Vinny, I catch sight of the woman whose face torments my dreams and my every waking moment. It all comes racing back to me. Vinny and Vivian and Frankie, when I was at the Riverside with Jen. The heat of Frankie’s skin under my fingers as I slipped the money inside her shirt. But even more damning, the feel of her body pressing down on mine in that office down in Arizona a couple weeks ago, as her hands tugged my hair and her lips rained fire down upon me.

She’s got a deer in the headlights look to her, and I’m sure the same expression is on my face. Before either of us says a word, though, everyone’s all in a jumble. Matt and Ellen come back and greet Jen and her friends. Ramon and Emily pull themselves away from each other to greet Frankie. Jen shoos me over on the bench to make room for Matt and his girl so she can talk to them, and Ramon takes off to flag down a waitress while Emily ushers Frankie to a seat. Everyone’s moving and talking, but the instant my shoulder hits warmth, I’m frozen in my spot.

I look to my left and find Frankie there beside me. She’s so breathtaking, I'm lost in her beautiful hazel eyes. It takes me a minute to feel the wiggling beneath my fingers. Glancing down, I realize my hand is resting upon her fingers.

“Good evening, Mr. Bond.” Frankie’s voice is low and quiet in my ear, and sexy as hell. Her soft smile is one I’ve seen in my dreams so many times - the way she smiled at me when she was waiting for me to get the punch line of her jokes that day in her hotel room.

“Good evening, Ms. Galore,” I say back, and I’m rewarded with a flush of red in her cheeks as she drops her gaze between us. My hand is still on hers. I brush my fingers against her skin, and she pulls her hand out from under mine.