Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
“She can’t keep this up. Her hip is bound to give out soon.”
I nudge Kenneth’s shoulder. “Don’t be so sure about that. Nan will probably outlive us.”
The All-Star Game after-party isn’t like any party I’ve been to.
Star athletes mingle with rookies, agents dance with PR reps, and more people are starting to join Nan on the dance floor.
There are no velvet ropes or VIP sections.
Just good music, sweaty bodies, expensive drinks, and the kind of electric joy that makes you forget it’s way past bedtime.
The DJ is playing all of Nan’s favorites, from Abba to the Bee Gees. Her red hair hasn’t dulled with age, the fiery color shimmering under the lights as she spins Mallory to “Boogie Wonderland.”
Perched thirty floors above the city, the Whittaker Hotel’s rooftop bar pulses with an electric energy I haven’t felt since college.
Dimmed yellow bulbs crisscross like constellations above us.
Glass railings offer an uninterrupted view of the skyline, where the lights below flicker like champagne bubbles.
“At least she’ll sleep well tonight,” I say, waving the bartender down for another glass of water. “You’ll probably have to carry her to the car though.”
“Mallory or Nan?” he asks.
I spot the two women forming a conga line. “Both.”
Kenneth’s sigh straddles the line between a laugh and a yawn, but he doesn’t sit down. After the fourth player slid behind Mallory, he has refused to take his eyes off the dance floor, ready to physically remove the next sucker who tries to make a move.
It must be exhausting having a hot, perfect girlfriend.
At least she can fight.
“Today was really nice. I’m glad we were all here today.” The bar creaks under his heavy weight when he leans against it. “And thanks for taking care of Cade.”
I pick at my nail. “It’s my job. No need to thank me.”
“Duh, short stuff. I know it’s your job to be his agent, but instead of punishing him for what happened between you two, you’re helping him in ways only you can.
” His attention finally strays from the dance floor to the corner of the bar.
“Everyone knew Cade was going to be a star. People tried to take advantage of his light and his kindness, clinging to him in hopes they’d get something from him.
Old friends. Jon.” His jaw works angrily, and I wonder how much he knows.
“But you? You don’t want anything from Cade. You never have.”
I look up at the man who stole my best friend’s heart two years ago. Even before he and I became friends, I knew his love for the people in his life burned bright.
He’s the best partner for Mallory and the best friend for Cade.
My head falls against his boulder shoulder. “I’m glad you’re my best-friend-in-law.”
“I’m glad you’re mine too.”
After a quick hug, Kenneth rushes to the dance floor to join Mallory, Nan, Jo, and Adri, but since I’m in work mode, I stay put and sip my water.
Against my better judgement, I let my eyes roam, and they find Cade almost instantly.
He has always been the center of attention, and not because he goes looking for it; it finds him.
In the tailored lavender pants and fitted white T-shirt, it’s hard not to notice him.
Which explains the women swarming him like bugs searching for light.
The number seems to multiply every time I look.
That’s why I swore to stop checking in on him an hour ago.
But our eyes meet as I lift the glass to my lips.
A second passes. Then two. After three, he winks.
And at this moment, I hate every single one of my rules.
“Shaylene Turner?”
I whip around at the slow cadence, and when my eyes find the owner of the voice, I pause. Pro athletes knowing my name will never get old.
“Yes,” I choke out. “That’s me.”
“Hey, I’m Simon Godfrey. Second baseman for the Cleveland Dukes.”
Simon was not only a first-round pick, but he was called up to the majors during his first season. It’s nearly impossible to make it to the majors that quickly, but he did and was voted the starting second baseman for the All-Star Game.
“So, this is going to sound a little forward but”—Oh no. Please don’t hit on me—“I’ve been watching how you move for a while, and I’d love to talk.”
My brows lift. “About?”
“About having you as my agent. I’m looking for someone who matches the way I play. Smart, aggressive, and always three steps ahead. And everything I’ve heard about you shows me you’re that person. Garrett Blane was singing your praises today.”
A silent scream catches in my throat as I pull a business card from my pocket. “Then it sounds like we may be aligned. I’d love to have the opportunity to represent you.”
After exchanging contact information, he walks back to his friends, and I grip the edges of the sticky bar. If I get the intermediate agent position, I can add more clients to my roster. It feels crazy to have this much hope, but I think all my dreams are about to come true.
“Did I overhear a potential client conversation, Agent Shay? Looks like you’re getting a lot of attention tonight.”
Hazel eyes are sewed to my skin when I turn around, his chest only inches from mine. Too close, considering I’m technically on the clock and he’s my client, but his presence steadies me.
“Me?” I scoff. “I haven’t seen you without a woman trying to cling onto you all night. It doubles every time I look.”
Disgust spreads across his features. “No thanks. Attention from them means nothing to me.”
I lift my chin in the direction of the woman in gold with sun-bleached waves. She was Cade’s number one fan tonight, constantly trying to weasel her way into his orbit. “Why not her? She’s pretty.”
“Is she? Didn’t notice,” he murmurs, eyes locked on mine.
“Well, you should,” I say.
“I’d rather not. I like this view so much more.”
The stupid butterflies in my belly come to life. I try to remind them what’s at stake, but the honesty radiating from Cade is enough to make me desperate to abandon my rules.
“By the way”—he steps back and I exhale—“Kenneth declared it was bedtime and corralled everyone into the minivan. They’re probably halfway to their hotel by now.”
Sadness washes over me. I know tonight was for work, but I wish I could’ve had a little more time with my friends.
Work always comes first, and tonight, I kind of hate it.
Recovering, I reach for my wallet. “Looks like my job is done for the night. Your people tapped out, which means I need to call a car—”
“Alone?”
I glare at him. “If this is your way of asking me if I’m going home with someone, you should be more subtle.”
“There’s nothing subtle about the way I feel about you, Shay.” He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and opens the rideshare app. “I’ll catch a ride with you. You’re staying at The Prescott on Arlington Avenue, right? Good, so am I.”
Sometimes I hate sharing a best friend.
I sigh. “Fine. Let me close the tab first.”
“Don’t worry.” Our hands brush. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For some reason, it sounds like a much deeper promise.
“What floor are you staying on?”
My vision clears at his question. Somehow, the ten-minute drive to the Prescott Hotel is already over, I crawled out of the Nissan, and now I’m standing in front of the elevator.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re not walking me to my room.”
Cade repeatedly jabs his finger into the already lit button. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t make sure you get there safely?”
“A client.” I put an extra foot of space between us. “How much did you drink tonight?”
Fingers formed into a circle, he holds up his hand. “None.”
“You didn’t have a single drink tonight? Not even the celebratory champagne?”
“Nope,” he says, popping the P. “I’m stone-cold sober.”
And then, god help me, he decides to prove it. Holding his arms out like he’s about to take flight, he walks to the other side of the hall without swaying.
Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe.
“And look. I can say the alphabet backward. Z, y, x, w, v, u, t, s, r, q. Then it’s my least favorite. P on MLK. J, i, h, g, f, e, d…”
I look around, thankful we’re alone. “How are you doing this?”
“C. B. A!” He twists around with his hands still in the air. “Done!”
After he has bowed multiple times, I hold up my hands. “Fine, I believe you’re sober, but our rules must mean nothing to you if you’re flirting with me in public.”
His hand disappears into his pocket. The hopeful part of me wonders if my dice are clacking around in there.
“They are important, but I’m struggling tonight, if you can’t tell.”
Tonight isn’t easy for me either. I also didn’t have a single drink, which means I can’t blame alcohol for why I feel so pulled to him in this moment.
If I’m being honest, in every moment for the last few weeks.
As the doors slide open, I tear my eyes from him to look at the elevator.
“Going back up?” I ask when no one steps out.
“Yeah,” a woman in a Wheezer shirt answers. “Pressed the wrong button for the pool. Y’all coming?”
Squeezing into an elevator with what looks like a family reunion isn’t my vibe, so I shake my head. “All good. I’ll catch the next—” I start, but I’m yanked forward by my front belt loop.
“Nonsense!” Cade laughs, walking backward. “Who knows when the next one will come. We need to get you to bed.”
“I will strangle you,” I hiss, but I let him pull me inside.
Cramped as it is, we both manage to fit, pushing through until we’re in the very back. Years ago, if we had been caught in this predicament, this closeness would’ve been greatly appreciated. Cade’s hand would have been spread across my stomach to keep me close, with his lips tracing my collarbones.
That can’t happen though. It’s not allowed.
“Seventeenth floor, please,” I rasp out, thankful someone hears me and clicks the button.