1. Gwen
one
Gwen
Present
Three months later …
“Which one should I wear?”
I lift the black pant suit in my right hand to the camera, then switch to the charcoal in my left for Jenna to see.
Today is my first official day with the Evaders, and I’m nervous as hell, hence me standing in the middle of my closet, with a towel wrapped around my body, freaking out over what I should wear.
Jenna scrunches her nose in disgust. “Neither. And please return those poor excuses for fashion to whatever store they came from.”
I gasp. “How dare you? They are designer and a gift from Gigi.”
“Telling me your grandmother bought you the suits is not helping your case.”
Biting back a smile, I ignore her comment. “I’m trying to look like a serious professional. And, for the record, Gigi has incredible taste.”
Anyone who knows my seventy-eight-year-old grandmother knows she is the queen of chic. Her Santa Barbara home is modernly remodeled, impeccably designed inside and out, and the woman never leaves home without looking good.
“I’ll admit she has style, but those suits are boring, and you know it. You can look fashionable and still be a serious professional at the same time.”
Jenna isn’t wrong. Gigi only bought me these suits at my encouragement. She wanted to fill my closet with a new wardrobe, full of designer labels, but I refused. The pink Louboutins she gifted me were more than enough.
“You know what I mean.”
“G, sacrificing who you are isn’t going to help you. Now, put on the dove-gray, wide-legged pantsuit with the pink silk shirt before I miss my audition, to get on a plane and fly all the way to LA just so I can kick your ass.”
“Fine.” I grab the suit and shirt off the rack and turn them side to side for her to see. She nods her approval. I pick up the stilettos and hold them up to the camera.
“Where in the red-soled heaven did you get those?”
“Gigi sent them.”
“That woman is a goddess. Definitely wear those.”
“Are they too much?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “No. Powerful shoes for a powerful woman. If your dad has a problem, that’s on him. But wearing plain, ill-fitting suits won’t help in the way you think it will.”
I know she’s right, but I need today to go well. I need it to set the tone for the rest of my career, and part of that means making sure my dad sees me as a capable professional woman.
As planned, I start work with Maryse in the marketing department. She hasn’t specified my role yet, but the conversation we had left me feeling hopeful.
If only I could stop stressing about my other problem, I’ll be good to go.
“Okay, fine, I’ll wear them.”
Jenna tilts her head to the side, and I already know what she’s going to say before she does. “Is seeing your dad the only reason you’re nervous about today?”
No, the voice in my head says as the organ in my chest twists at her question.
“Yes. What other reason could I have?” I ask. My high and pitchy voice gives me away.
Jenna smirks. “I don’t know, maybe running into a six-five, blond-haired hottie has you nervous.”
My brain immediately jumps back to the night of the World Series party. Back to him and his rough hands as they mapped every inch of my skin, right before his mouth followed in their wake.
I shake my head. “I’m not nervous.”
Lies, my brain hisses.
“If you say so,” Jenna hums.
She knows all about what happened that night and what happened next.
Or rather, what didn’t happen.
“J, I can’t think about him. If I do …” I shake my head, refusing to let myself go down that road and say the words aloud.
“It’s better if I tell myself it was one night.
It was fun while it lasted, but we’re back in the real world.
I work for the team he plays on, and my dad is his boss. It’s over. Done. Six feet under.”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” she says with a sigh. “But I think you’re making a mistake. You should have tried to contact him.”
For the past three months, we’ve had this same fight. Like the hundred times before, I’m not changing my mind.
“I left a note,” I remind her.
“He obviously didn’t get it.”
“Or he got my note and didn’t want to get in touch because it was what it was, a one-night stand.”
“Ugh. This is all my fault,” Jenna groans, throwing her hands into the air in frustration.
“No, it’s not. Now, go get ready for your audition, and don’t forget to break a leg. Not your arm,” I tease.
She’s trying out for the part of Ophelia in a modern take on Hamlet. It’s an off-Broadway production, but according to her, the director is an up-and-coming “it” guy.
“Ha-ha.” The brat sticks her tongue out at me.
“Chat tonight?” Since I moved back to LA, chatting at the beginning and end of our days has become our ritual.
“You know it. I want to hear all the juicy details.”
“Jenna,” I warn. “There will be no juicy details. I have a plan. To stay as far away from the players as possible.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Famous last words, my friend.”
“Jerk,” I grumble, making her laugh more.
Famous last words, my ass. I’ll prove her wrong.
“Have a great first day, G.” She wiggles goodbye with her fingers.
“Thanks, I will. Love you.”
“Love you,” she returns and then disconnects the call.
Dropping my towel on the floor, I reach for the blue perfume bottle and give the nozzle two pumps in front of me. I tilt my head back and walk through the powdery-floral mist, making sure it lands on my neck, arms, and body.
The French perfume was a high school graduation gift from Gigi, and I’ve been wearing it ever since.
The sweet memory of my signature scent now pales in comparison, overshadowed by the memories of his gravelly voice whispering, “Fuck, you smell so good,” across my neck as he licked and nipped at my skin.
I close my eyes to the cold shivers racing down my spine from the memory.
When I open my eyes, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my aqua eyes glow with … Nope. Not putting a name to that look.
“Do not go there, Gwen. You have a job to do, and that job is not to think about a certain baseball player.” I take a deep breath and pull my shoulders back.
My pep talk does little to keep my mind off him.
Every thought as I dress and drive to the stadium is about Lance Taylor and the night we met.