Chapter 52

52

Josh

The bat phone rings.

Even though it’s the middle of the night, it wakes me up instantly. This is the emergency line.

“Hey. What’s going on?”

“Dude!”

Dragging a hand through my hair, I sit up straight. “What’s up, Zane? You okay?”

“I am motherfucking awesome. In fact, I’ve never been better. I’m hanging with Jako tonight,” he says, naming one of his best buds in the business, another skater on his team. He sighs contentedly. “So whassup with you?”

I laugh. “Nothing was up, my man. It’s three in the morning. Wassup with you?”

“Not much. Just chilling. Munching on some sunflower seeds. Man, if you could get me a lifetime supply of these, I would be the happiest cat ever.”

“I’ll make a note of that. Also, do me a favor. Call me again in the middle of the night to tell me you’re awesome and nothing is going on but snacking.”

He snaps his fingers. “Shit, I just remembered why I called. I need your friend.”

I furrow my brow, trying to figure out who he means. Then again, I’m always trying to figure out what Zane means. A few too many hits on the joint when he was in high school have made his reaction times less than top-notch when he’s outside the skate park. In the skate park? The dude kills it. No clue how that worked out, but I’m glad it did. He’s been making bank for both of us for more than a decade.

“Sure. I’ll help you out. But help me out first. Which friend?”

“You know. Let’s throw another shrimp on the barbie. That one.”

“Jay. Jay, who’s from Sydney,” I say, using the fake name Jason set up for this ceremony.

“Yes! You’re like Stephen Hawking. How do you do that? Do you do brain exercises? Is that how you’re so sharp?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Anyhoo, that’s him. He’s cool. I like that accent. Ooh. Idea! Can you do a little g’day, mate accent when you intro me to Monster Energy Bull Rider Drinks, or whatever that sponsorship is you’re getting for me?”

“No. I love you, man, but I’m not pretending to be Australian.” I’ll go to the ends of the earth for my clients and their deals, but I’m not going to perform like a trick monkey for their amusement.

“Fine, have it your way. But you rock! Never forget that. So, the bad news is I lost Jay’s number. And I need it. Because guess what?”

“You want to hear him say g’day, mate ?”

He cracks up. “No, but I’ll add that to the list. Along with the dingo ate my baby . But I have to talk to him, because he needs to be my best man now.”

“I thought Jako was doing the honors?”

“No, man. I’m at the hospital right now with him. Didn’t I tell you that?”

I roll my eyes. “You told me you were with Jako. You didn’t say you were at the hospital. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“I do. I need a new best man. I’d ask you to do the speech, but that’s not cool. I love you and all, but I gotta have some boundaries. That’s what my fiancée keeps telling me. Boundaries. Anyway, Jako broke his leg doing a gazelle flip. That’s the other bad news. And that means he can’t do me the honor of being by my side next weekend. He’s so fucking bummed. He wrote a speech too. Well, half of it, and you know how Jako is. He hates writing. He hates words.”

“Words can be little devils.”

“But no worries. We came up with a plan in the ambulance. He’ll FaceTime from the hospital bed in his cast, and Jay will deliver his speech. It’s going to be rad. Can you hook me up with Jay-man and he can do the speech?”

“I’m on it. One tip though. Don’t call him Jay-man.”

“Right. Thanks. Jay-boy it is.”

The next weekend, the wedding goes off without a hitch. Jason’s buddy Troy has taken over his business. He has zero problems pretending he’s Jay-man or Jay-boy—and brings his guy Sully along to fill in as the extra groomsman—and in his role, Troy delivers the first half of Jako’s best man’s speech and the second half of what, I presume, he wrote.

It’s stellar, and it makes Zane smile like he’s won a lifetime supply of sunflower seeds. The wedding is everything my longtime client could want, and that’s what matters most to me: happy clients.

After the reception winds down, Zane claps me on the shoulder. “You’re the man. You know that, right? I’d be nothing without you.”

I’m not saying I want him to think that, but I do like that he does. So I keep my reply simple. “You know I’m always happy to help.”

That’s my goal: go the extra mile. Then another mile. This business is insanely competitive, and being an agent, a negotiator, a therapist, a sounding board, a dartboard, and a fucking wedding planner, along with an occasional Uber driver, is par for the course. It’s how I stay ahead, and I always need to be ten steps ahead, given the way the competition is breathing down my neck.

Zane smacks my chest. “Man, you did more than help. You saved the day. You always save the day. I owe you like ten million presents. Want me to send you a new car? I want to get a new Jeep. I could get two. One for you, one for me.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I’m all good. Also, I hope you like your gift. I got you a little something.”

His eyes sparkle. “Dude. You did not have to get me a present.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

I don’t have to stick around to know he’ll be over the moon when he receives his lifetime supply of a certain snack food. “Anyway, glad it all worked out with the new Jay. And congrats again.”

When I leave the wedding and hop into an Uber, my regular line rings. Private. Could be anyone—team owner, publicist, potential client.

“Summers here.”

“Hey, man. It’s Lorenzo.”

I sit up straight, a burst of possibility flaring in me. “Lorenzo. How the hell are you?”

“I had two RBIs tonight, and we won, so I’d say I’m fantastic.”

“That is definitely fantastic. You’ve been putting up the numbers all season, man. But tell me something, how’s your mom? Last time we talked you said she was having chest pains. How’s she doing?”

“She’s all better. And hey, thanks for asking about her. That means a lot to me, and it makes me feel even better about what I want to ask you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it shows you care about me. About my family. And that’s why I’m hoping you’d want to negotiate a fat new contract with the Yankees for me? Think you’d be up for that?”

Fireworks spark across the whole night sky. “I’d love nothing more.”

A couple days later, Jason joins me for a Yankees game in my box seats.

He surveys the swank setup, complete with catering and plush velvet chairs. “Still slumming it, I see?”

“Yeah. Maybe someday I’ll move up to the third baseline.”

“I trust business is good?”

“It’s excellent. Lorenzo is all mine now.”

“Ah, so evil Leather Pants Poacher didn’t nab him?”

I scoff. “No way. I’m still the man. And your new biz is taking off?”

“Started some of my new work this week. Maybe I’ll even write a piece about etiquette when invited to a fancy suite at a ball game. Like, may I please devour all the mushroom canapés?”

“Do you even know what a canapé is?”

“Does anyone know what a canapé is?”

“No one does. Also, I’m glad you figured out your lady issues and your work issues. Like I said, work isn’t everything.” I tap my ear. “See? I’m Bluetooth-free today.”

“But I bet your mobile ringer is on high.”

“Of course it is. Bat line too.”

He grabs a carrot from the appetizer plate and crunches into it. “Someday you’ll meet a woman who makes you want to turn the bat line off.”

“Maybe. For now, I see no reason to end my run as New York’s most eligible bachelor. But you’ve ended yours. How’s it going with the lady?”

“Perfect. Totally perfect. She’ll be here any minute. She has a crush on the shortstop.”

“Who doesn’t?”

During a break in the action later in the game, I step into the hall to take a quick call. When I’m done, I hear the click of shoes.

I turn.

Haven Delilah.

She’s walking toward me, and why, oh fucking why does she have to look the way she does? That chestnut hair. Those chocolate eyes. That body. She’s a total smoke show, and the universe must be having a field day, making my biggest rival the hottest babe I have ever seen.

“You following me, Delilah?”

“Yes, Summers. I was up at the crack of dawn, waiting for you. I’ve been slinking behind buildings and hiding around corners just to follow you to Yankee Stadium. What a shock to run into a sports agent here.”

I ignore her sarcasm. “That’s so thoughtful that you came here to congratulate me on adding Lorenzo to my roster.”

She crosses her arms defiantly. She does everything defiantly. It’s so fucking sexy it should be illegal. “Congrats. Too bad you didn’t get a pitcher though. I’ve heard they have more long-term value. Oh, but probably none were on the market, since I rep half the bull pen.”

“It’s okay. I get that you’re still licking your wounds. But I guess this makes us even now.”

She rolls her eyes as the caterer—earbuds in place—heads down the hall carrying an empty tray.

Haven takes a step closer, getting in my space, and holy shit. I can smell her perfume. Or is it her shampoo? It smells like honey, and it goes to my head. Fucks with my senses. “Still having a hard time letting the past go?”

I swallow roughly as she calls me on my bullshit, right as her insanely seductive smell is drifting through my mind.

She pitches forward, squeaking in surprise as the caterer bumps her with the empty tray. “Oh!”

She stumbles closer. Instinct has me grabbing her arm, steadying her. She lifts her chin. She’s inches away. Her face is kissing distance from mine. Her lips are dangerously close. Lips I know so well. Lips I’ve traced, explored long into the night.

For a moment, all our games, all our anger sizzles away. “You okay?” I ask.

She looks into my eyes, her chocolate-brown irises blazing with some unusual combination of heat and confusion. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She looks down at her arm. The arm I’m holding. She seems to register my hand on her bare skin. She swallows then looks up at me.

Her breath hitches when she meets my eyes. And what’s that I see? Is her skin flushing? Holy shit. Haven is still affected by the way I touch her.

Well, this changes everything.