Chapter 6
Once his earbuds went in, our conversation died. Not that I wanted it to continue. It had been more than evident that he didn’t care for my approach to the situation. Too bad. I was right. He might be brilliant on the mound, but my business and public relations acumen trumped that. My objective was to keep his name and image clean. If he wanted to be moody, that was on him.
We pulled into the parking lot, and thanks to the early game, the sun hadn’t even begun to set. Remington waited for Jimmy but offered me his hand as I made my way down the steep steps.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Like a herd of cattle, we headed toward the hotel’s front doors. Remington asked, “Hey, want to go grab something to eat? Barney’s?—”
“That’d be great,” I quickly answered before adding, “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“I believe he was asking me.” Jimmy’s deep voice had me glancing over my shoulder.
Faking amusement to squash my vocal faux pas, even though I really was hungry, I laughed. “Right. Sorry, I didn’t think. Sometimes, my stomach gets ahead of my brain. Lack of nutrients drops my blood sugar, I guess.”
Jimmy looked at me with a puzzled expression. Not that I blamed him. I did sound unlike myself. I hadn’t lied when I said my brain depended on food. In college, I carried protein bars with me just in case class ran long or I had a study group. Some people became cranky without food. Me? I became slightly airheaded.
“If you like Ruebens, Barney’s Pub is the best. You can come with us. You know, to make sure I’m on my best behavior.”
A bit annoyed, I glared up at Jimmy. “Great idea. I can’t wait.”
The air-conditioning in the bland lobby did little to ease the heat rising on the back of my neck. I needed to not let Jimmy get under my skin. Once on the elevator, I exited on the sixth floor, and they continued up to the seventh. No sooner was I in my room, having set my things down, than my phone dinged.
Jimmy Hall: Heading to the lobby in 5. Our rideshare is on its way.
Five minutes? Holy shit. That barely gave me enough time to pee. I hurried and did that, freshened up a bit, and changed into my favorite dark denim jeans, a white short-sleeve V-neck sweater, and a pair of white sneakers. Checking the time, I realized I was already running behind. I grabbed my small cross-body bag and made my way to the elevator bay.
As soon as the doors slid open, I saw baseball fans circling a few players in the lobby bar. Knowing they were waiting for a car, I headed outside.
Remington was on the phone, and Jimmy had just slid his into his pocket.
“Sorry I’m late.”
He turned, and my skin instantly prickled as his eyes roamed my body. “No problem, our original driver got a flat. We’re getting a different car. Should be here soon.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
His phone dinged. He pulled it out and read the message before tapping a reply. He chuckled before slipping it back into his pants.
“Good news?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“My sister, Riley.” He once again grabbed his phone, tapped the screen, and a cute little blonde girl holding a sign that read, MY brOTHER IS THE BEST BASEBALL PLAYER IN THE WORLD!, written in a rainbow of crayon colors, appeared. “She’s my number one fan.”
I could definitely see the resemblance. “She’s adorable and has your eyes.”
“Thank you. Ry is the best.”
Our white SUV pulled up. Remington waved us over, and we piled in, arriving at Barney’s Pub in no time. Jimmy opened and held the large wooden door for us, and as soon as I stepped inside, the scent of the smoky bar food mingled with the aroma of freshly poured beer.
“This reminds me of a pub I was in when I went to Ireland.”
“Meg wants to go to Dublin,” Remington replied.
“I don’t blame her. It was on my bucket list. You should try to go.”
He nodded. “Maybe when Ariel is a little older and can appreciate it.”
Understanding that, I began to look around. Like in Ireland, the interior boasted dark, polished wood, giving the space a timeless, comforting feel. The bar itself was a focal point, lined with stools occupied by patrons. Behind it, rows of gleaming backlit liquor bottles, in the forefront, numerous beer taps and of course, the flag of Ireland was hoisted above it.
A hostess greeted us and gave both men an appreciative glance before addressing me. “Would you like a table or a booth?”
Loving that I was the one asked, I immediately said booth since it would bring us more privacy. Good call on my part because as we strolled farther into the restaurant, I could feel the weight of stares on us. Well, not us, because I wasn’t included in that grouping other than maybe people wondering who I was to these guys. No, it was they who had several heads turning. It hadn’t mattered that Remington and Jimmy were part of the team that had just handed Omaha their first loss. They were professional athletes who happened to be gorgeous in their own right.
Of course, most eyes were on Jimmy. He shook hands with a guy who looked to be his age. I couldn’t help but notice how the bulge of Jimmy’s biceps stretched the sleeve of his T-shirt or how his forearm had cords of muscles. And I needed to get his strong hands out of my head.
It truly was no wonder he was popular with the ladies. His six-three frame, gorgeous face, and strong build caught even my attention. Just because he was off-limits, a few years younger, and my current work project didn’t make me unaware of his masculinity.
Going through his social media and reading posts and, even more interesting, direct messages had me wondering how some women could be so bold. I hadn’t told Jimmy about all of the messages. They had all gone unread until I put my eyes on them ... and regarding some of them, I wished I hadn’t.
Aside from the business world, I didn’t consider myself brazen—especially when it came to men. Unlike what some had come to believe about a successful and smart businesswoman, I, for one, enjoyed having a door opened and held for me. And although I was more than capable of buying my own drinks or dinner, I didn’t mind letting my date pick up the tab.
I slid into the booth, Remington slid across from me, and the hostess set down two menus. We thanked her and she walked away.
“He’s not a bad guy, you know.”
My gaze flicked to Jimmy, who was still talking to a couple of guys before I brought my focus back to Remington.
“The team knows that. Which is why I’m here to make sure others do.”
“No disrespect, but I’m not talking about the team. I’m talking about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Look, we’ve known each other for a few years. Granted, we haven’t sat down like this, but I respect your grandfather and know that he wouldn’t put you in this position if it weren’t for the betterment of the Hawks. That being said, Jimmy is my best friend. You saw for yourself when you were at my house that he’s a great person. How many twenty-four-year-old guys, who have the world at their fingertips and could be out enjoying everything that comes with that ...” He paused and added, “Within reason, would forgo all that to help a friend and babysit his three-year-old?”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say. I never said he wasn’t a nice person.”
“Then cut him some slack. Those questions about being moved to the bench or the minors can screw with his head. As the one who catches his pitches and his best friend, I don’t want that to happen.”
“I don’t want to see that happen, either, which is why I’m doing what was assigned to me. I respect you, Remington, and I appreciate you sticking up for him, but we’re all on the same side here.”
A woman’s laugh caught my attention, and I didn’t even need to turn to see who caused that reaction ... but I did anyway. Jimmy faced two women wearing matching T-shirts with Greek symbols on them. Most likely from a sorority. His eyes flicked toward us, and he said something to them, then began making his way to the booth.
Rather than sit next to me, he stood on the opposite side, his buddy slid over, and Jimmy sat down. “What are we talking about, or don’t I need to ask?”
“You, of course. Would there be any other topic?” Remington’s eyebrows rose, and I knew I sounded like a complete bitch. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”
“You’re forgiven.” A server approached, we gave our order, and for the next hour, I enjoyed the best Reuben I’d ever tasted while listening to the guys talk about some of the umpire’s calls during today’s game.
Remington’s phone rang, and his face lit up when he looked at the screen. “It’s Meg.”
“Tell her I said hi,” Jimmy told him as he moved so Remington could step away.
An odd silence descended over us. His thumb tracked through the condensation on his glass. We weren’t comfortable, or at least I wasn’t. Rather than sit in awkward silence doing nothing, I decided to grab my phone and get to work. Once I opened his social media account, and rather than post the pictures I took of him during the game, I chose the one of him signing that young kid’s ball.
His phone dinged, and when he looked at it, his eyes rolled up to meet mine.
“It’s a great picture.” He nodded once before returning his focus to his drink. “Can you look at me for a minute, please?” When he did, and those baby blues focused on me, I needed to remind myself who he was and, more importantly, who I was. “Whether you like to believe it or not, we’re on the same team. Actually, I’m more on your team. Once you get that through your head the better our relationship will be.”
“Working relationship, right? You still don’t want to be my friend.”
I couldn’t help but stare at him and wonder why being his friend was so important to him. But like everything else in my life, when I wanted an answer to something, I asked a direct question. Jimmy Hall shouldn’t be any different.
“Why does it mean so much to you? I’m sure you have hundreds of friends. Heck, you have a locker room of friends.” Then, as though Thomas Edison flipped the switch himself, a light bulb went off. “Do you have any female friends?” Before he could say anything, I shot out, “Family doesn’t count.”
“Meg. She’s one of my friends.” He sat back in the booth. “Other than her, no.”
“Because you want to sleep with them all, and Meg is safe because she’s married to your best friend.”
“Once again, you have me all figured out, don’t you?”
Remington’s words about me messing with his head popped into mine. “No, I don’t.” Then I did something I never thought I’d do ... I conceded. “Okay, let’s do it.”
He cocked a seductive brow, and a sinister smile appeared.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to change my mind.”
He put his hands up in surrender before reaching across the table, asking for my hand. When I placed it in his, he gave it one slow shake. “I promise to be a great friend to you, Miss Bennett.”
“You can call me Sommer.”
“Thank fuck.”