Chapter Three
Ashton stared out the window of the Pizza Chef restaurant. The tangy aroma of pizza dough caused her stomach to grumble, but the slice on her plate stayed untouched.
“Why so glum, kid?” Nancy asked. She pulled a slice off the platter, cheese stretching, and took a big bite from the tip and mumbled, “You single-handedly saved our season with your clutch attitude back there.”
Ashton smiled. She had been pretty spectacular, very brazen. She’d half expected Razor to throw her out.
“I wouldn’t consider strong-arming her into attending practice saving our season,” Ashton confessed and pushed the pizza slice around on her plate.
Nancy swallowed down her bite and grabbed a napkin from the dispenser.
“Is that why you’re not devouring your broccoli and goat cheese pizza right now?
The one I’ve seen you hoard when sharing pies with me and others, even though it’s not a hardship to surrender?
” The jab worked its charm, and Ashton chuckled. “Seriously. What’s wrong?”
Ashton sighed and looked around the small restaurant, barely taking in the worn leather booths and checkered tablecloths. The retro games didn’t annoy her with their constant beeps and whistles as they had in past visits. Even the smell of garlic cheesy bread didn’t have her salivating like before.
“Razor said she didn’t think she could play for you again. You alluded to something as well when we first arrived.”
Nancy slowly set her slice down and folded her hands on the table.
“If she brought it up, it’s even more amazing you got her to change her mind.”
The flippant response did little to ease Ashton’s worry.
“Nancy, this is serious. This…thing between you was big enough for Razor to initially turn down this opportunity. If it’s something that can’t be resolved, I need to know.”
Nancy stared at the table.
“It’s not easy to explain, but I’ll try.”
Ashton moved the pizza tray to the end of the table, wanting to read every movement, every emotion on Nancy’s face as she told her story.
“After you left, San Diego State hired a new head coach, Malcolm Newman. Nice older gentleman who’d been coaching up in Oregon.
I guess since we’d just won the championship, and Geoff retired, the school wanted to keep the momentum going.
So they chose someone with experience.” She paused and took a deep breath.
“Most of the coaching staff moved on, but I felt it was wise to stay and help the players adjust.”
“That makes sense.”
“Malcolm agreed, even though he brought in a lot of his own people, including his son Gary.”
The way Nancy said his name, Ashton realized they’d reached the crux of the story.
Nancy rubbed her head, then picked up the discarded napkin on the table and shredded it. “Razor came to me in the fall of her junior season and claimed she’d witnessed Gary assault a player, and he needed to be dealt with.”
Ashton gasped. “And did you? Deal with it?”
“Of course I did,” Nancy said defensively. “I reported it to both human resources and the athletic director.”
“So, what happened?”
Nancy shook her head. “The university took its sweet time investigating. Too long in Razor’s mind. I tried to tell her these things take time, but she didn’t buy it. I think, in some ways, she blamed me, believed I wasn’t doing enough.”
Ashton was puzzled. “You brought it to the proper people in administration. What more could you do?”
Nancy shrugged. “I don’t know, but she was adamant I follow up, and when I tried to appease her, that’s when she told me that Gary needed to be stopped before he assaulted another victim.”
“Did the victim ever come forward?” Ashton asked.
“No,” Nancy replied. “But Razor pushed forward with her accusation, and when no one stepped up to corroborate her story, she faced Gary alone.”
Ashton was stunned and slumped back in her seat. “Poor Razor.”
“Yeah. Poor Razor.” Nancy’s napkin was all but confetti, but she continued, “Gary hired an attorney, and she eviscerated Razor’s testimony. Her story kept changing, there was no evidence, and with no other witnesses, Gary returned to work, and Razor left the program.”
They sat silently while Ashton absorbed this new revelation.
“Still doesn’t explain why she’s hostile toward you. You reported it. There was a hearing. Unfortunately, the bastard got off, but that’s not your fault.”
Nancy nodded, then looked perplexed. “I guess she believes I should’ve done more. And she had no qualms about showing me how she felt the last few weeks before she left.”
“Is that why you got upset when you found out Courtney asked her to join her staff first? Because of how your relationship ended?”
“I wasn’t upset,” Nancy countered.
“With how loud you were arguing in the parking lot, I’d say you were very upset.”
“I wasn’t,” Nancy growled. She looked around at the other people in the restaurant, then continued calmly.
“I wasn’t upset. I was…surprised. When Courtney called and asked me to be part of her staff last summer, I didn’t know I was her second choice.
” She smiled slowly and shrugged. “But hey, Razor’s loss was my gain, right?
And thanks to you, she gets to be part of the team without all the administrative nonsense. ”
Ashton gulped. The quick switch from anger to calm didn’t settle well with her, and she had a foreboding thought.
“Did I make a mistake by convincing Razor to do this?”
Nancy signaled to the waiter to bring the check, then plastered on a smile. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow at practice. If she actually shows up.”
* * *
Razor unlocked her apartment door and hung the keys on the hook. She walked across the wood floors and dropped her messenger bag by the couch before plopping down on the soft cushions. She laid her head back with a deep sigh and let the stress seep out of her body.
How had she gotten herself into this mess?
Ashton. That was how.
Razor had to be honest. If only Courtney and Nancy were asking her to play, she’d have said no without a second thought. But having it be Ashton barreling into Slugfest—all hot, breathless, and determined—Razor’s steadfastness had waivered.
How could it not? This was Ashton Sharpe, Razor’s dream girl when she’d played at San Diego State. Granted, they’d only played together for a year and had minimal interaction outside their first meeting, but Razor fell hard and fast for Ashton’s confidence and poise, and her killer curveball.
A memory tugged at Razor’s heartstrings as she recalled how hot and bothered Ashton was the day they met. Not much different from today. Same long blond hair, same hazel eyes, same lips pinched with determination.
Ashton’s eyes hadn’t changed. Those eyes had propelled Razor to be brave and ask her out.
Eyes that held a hint of mischief when she’d turned Razor down, saying she had a girlfriend.
And those same eyes aimed blame at Razor when she pulled the worst move possible at practice.
Ashton wouldn’t give her the time of day after that, but at least she got a cool nickname from it.
As Razor closed her eyes, relishing in the few good memories from San Diego, there was a knock at the door. She groaned and propelled herself up, surprised to see Jimmy standing in the hallway with a sheepish grin on his face.
“Thought you could use some company,” he said. He held up two six-packs for Razor’s perusal and laughed when she reached for the one in his left hand.
“I’ll take the cider. You can have the Bud Light.”
She turned, leaving the door open, and walked into the kitchen. Jimmy clicked the door shut and followed. “Figured as much since you have practice tomorrow.”
The bottle cap scraped across the counter and rattled to the floor in the silence following his statement.
“You heard that, huh?”
He laughed. “All of Slugfest heard it. That woman was like a mini tornado. Scared poor Riley. Thought you were about to get punched or something.”
Razor snorted and grabbed both bottles, handing him one. They each took a long swig before any further discussion was had.
“So. You playing again?”
Razor shook her head. “It’s one practice.”
“Keep telling yourself that, slick,” Jimmy scoffed and walked into the living room. Razor followed.
“I swear, Jimmy. That’s all it is. I can’t rearrange my entire life on short notice. Even if there was a way—”
“Oh, there’s a way,” he cut in, his attention focused on Razor’s bookshelf.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, set the bottle down on the coffee table, and joined him.
She knew what he was looking at. She’d been staring at it herself ever since Courtney asked her to be a coach.
Picking up the catcher’s glove, Razor blew out a long breath.
The light tan and dark mocha color combo wasn’t flashy, but it was functional.
“I remember when she got that for you,” Jimmy said, a sad smile on his face. “She’d fretted over the design for weeks. She almost went with the Aztec colors, but in the end, she felt practical suited you best.”
Razor nodded and ran her hand over the stiff leather. Some of the knots were loose but could be tightened easily. She turned the glove over. Her lip trembled upon seeing the inscription.
I’ll always catch you.
She caressed the words, feeling the raised stitching beneath her fingertips.
“She said she was so proud of me,” Razor whispered. “Wanted to make sure I knew that she was always with me, even when I was far away.”
She slipped the glove on and smacked the palm a few times, the stiffness more evident.
“Nothing a little mink oil can’t fix,” Jimmy said.
Razor sat down on the couch, setting the glove on the table and picking up her cider.
“You think this is a bad idea,” she stated.
Jimmy’s brows drew downward as he took the vacant spot next to her. “I think nothing of the sort. Do you think it is?”
Razor shook her head. “Do you think people can change for the better?”
If the question bothered Jimmy, he didn’t show it.
“I think people should be allowed to atone for any wrong they’ve done, or think they’ve done, to others.”
“So you believe this is my atonement for what I did?”
Tears pricked Razor’s eyes as she looked at him. He gazed at her with the warmth of a parent and wrapped her up in his arms.
“I know you were trying to help a friend. No one, and I mean no one, can ever fault you for being a good, caring person.” He paused and rubbed her arm.
“I’ve watched you the last few years, slick.
I’ve seen you burdened with guilt over what happened with that girl and that coach.
And it breaks my heart because I know there’s nothing I can do to help you. ”
He pulled back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You need to make your peace with what happened. If that means getting back out on the field, then I’m all for it.”
Razor smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. Jimmy was right. If playing could ease her conscience and give her redemption, she needed to take the chance.
She pulled out of his embrace and wiped away the remaining tears before pulling her messenger bag across the floor.
“Well, if I’m doing this, we need to adjust the work schedule again.”
She felt Jimmy’s smile directed at her as she pulled out the binder and flipped it open.
“Just make sure I have time to come see a few games.”