Page 11

Chapter Ten

Cat

Laughing and a clinking noise pull me from my screen filled with emails to the baseball field below. Pushing up from my chair, I walk to the wall of windows and look down at the players standing in position.

It’s been a long time since I’ve stopped to watch a sports practice of any kind, but the draw of who’s down there has piqued my interest.

The players’ movements are fluid and graceful, well-practiced from years of repetition, and the force of the ball when it leaves their hands is extraordinary.

Even though I’m not really a sports person I understand the competitive nature and drive that needs to be present when you’re working towards something.

Watching that on display from the men on the field is truly impressive.

Clink.

The batter aims between second and third base, my eyes drawn to the man playing that position.

I watch his body easily pull the ball into his glove and take a few steps before effortlessly throwing it across the field to first base.

A thud reaches me as Evan Hanson, the Smokies’ first baseman, catches it like a bolt of lightning wasn’t just thrown at him.

Clink.

The sound of what can only be another ball being hit reaches my ears, and I assume whoever is getting it follows the same pattern as David. But I can’t be sure since my eyes are glued to the man at shortstop.

It’s obvious he feels at home here. I don’t know any other way to describe how relaxed and comfortable he is standing on the field. The bill of his hat tilts toward my window and a tingle shoots down my body at the thought that he can see me standing here.

But that’s not possible. He’s too far away, right?

“Watching anything interesting?” Hope teases, walking in with a stack of designs to review.

Snapping my gaze toward her, my cheeks heat and her grin widens.

“Just some warm-ups I think.” I move back to my chair and unlock my computer screen in an attempt to redirect her from anything to do with me and David.

“I thought it was a good opportunity to test my knowledge of the players and their positions.”

“Um-hmm,” she goads, and my body heats. “Who’s our right fielder?”

Diving into the deepest parts of my memory, I work to remember that specific player’s name. I’ve been studying the team roster and checking our social media, but I by no means have them memorized. It will be easier when I actually meet them in person. “Nate?”

“And his last name?” she asks, putting the stack of designs on my desk and sitting in the chair across from me.

Nate is a rookie…I remember that, but what’s his last name? Usually, I pair their full name with a distinct characteristic when getting to know a new person. What did I pair Nate’s last name with so that it would help me? Chewing my bottom lip I try to ignore the dip in my stomach. “Newman?”

“Okay,” she chuckles, and settles into the chair a bit more. “Sounds like you have been doing some homework.”

Phew. I passed that test. Turning my attention to the designs, I start flipping through them in an attempt to keep the conversation focused on work.

“How do you feel about being David James’ mystery woman?” My fingers freeze, my brows shooting past my hairline, and she laughs at my expression. “Haven’t you seen the new Tea Time post?”

When I stare at her like a deer stuck in headlights, she pulls out her phone.

“Here.” She reaches over the desk and pushes it out so I can see what she’s talking about. Gently taking the phone, I read.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” I laugh nervously, fanning the collar of my shirt. “The only thing we’ve done is talk. Catching two people talking is hardly gossip.”

“Yes, but—” My face is on fire as I cut her off.

“No buts.” I turn back toward my screen and attempt to read the email before me, but it’s impossible with what I just read. This is my first week with the Smokies. What if upper management sees that?

“But…” she says, ignoring me, “David is Finn Mitchell’s client.”

I roll my eyes and snicker. “Still doesn’t mean anything.”

She crosses her arms, leaning back in the chair. Her grin widening. “ Tea Time is rarely wrong. Not to mention, Logan is even talking about the sparks flying, and he doesn’t notice anything.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I respond, thinking about my first time meeting Logan. “He doesn’t lack confidence.”

“Confidence, no. But he’s not one to pay attention to people and their feelings. He’s usually oblivious.”

“What’s going on with you and Logan?” I chuckle when she gives me a look that tells me I’m not getting off so easily. “I’m curious.”

“We’re not dating, if that’s what you’re asking. We’ve been friends since grade school. Just friends.” I watch her eyes cloud before she snaps her gaze back to mine. “But we were talking about you and David.”

“David and I grew up next to each other when I was younger, and I had a crush on him,” I say softly, feeling vulnerable. “But then my family moved away.”

Hope’s eyes are the size of soup bowls, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Is that why you took this job?”

“What?” My mouth drops open, and my heart hammers against my chest. “No. No! I took this job because it’s a real opportunity for me. I didn’t even consider that the David James I’d be working with was the same person. I mean the last time I saw David…”

Memories of that last day flip through my mind like an old movie. Watching him walk up the stairs to his house, standing in front of my door. My heart was bursting and breaking.

“That was a long time ago,” I say dismissively, shaking my head. “Those versions of us no longer exist.”

“Logan would probably say otherwise.” Hope leans her elbows on the desk and rests her chin on her hand. A dreamy expression taking over her face. “And I’m not so sure I would say that exactly. The two of you are definitely giving off vibes.”

“Yeah the 'I know you' vibes, not the 'I love you' vibes.” My phone buzzes and I glance down to see David’s name. My heart leaps to my throat, and I swallow hard before remembering it’s probably just Finn’s number.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Hope sits up straighter, trying to get a better look, her face glowing like she just caught Santa coming down the chimney before clapping her hands excitedly. “This is your second chance!”

“Stop it. He’s just sending me his agent’s number,” I say, scribbling on the paper in front of me, trying to act busy. “I want to talk to Finn about David’s history.”

“Gathering intel. That makes sense.” Hope smirks and I can’t help but laugh at the fun she’s having with me and the current situation.

“I thought it appropriate considering his social media is part of my job.” My brief conversation about David and why he’s been inconsistent, okay, non-existent, when it comes to his profile grips my chest. “It’s important for me to help him understand the importance of what the organization wants to do while at the same time finding a way to address any concerns when it comes to his Scarlett. ”

“Uh–Uh-huh.” Hope smirks again as she starts to spread the designs on my desk. Finally, we can get off this topic. “And more opportunity for Tea Time to get some compromising photographs.”

“What are you talking about? There’s not going to be any compromising photographs,” I scoff, and turn my focus back to the designs in front of me.

“Yet.” She winks, and I groan.

“Ever,” I counter, and Hope chuckles.

Even as the words fall from my mouth, I know I’m lying to myself. From the first moment I laid eyes on David, I was interested. And I can’t help but wonder if he feels that same tug.

What if this is fate giving us a second chance? What if Aunt Dottie’s will is presenting me with an opportunity? And not just the opportunity to pay off my father’s debt.

But the opportunity to find love.

I huff out a laugh and shake my head.

Stop it, Catherine Bailey. A marriage of convenience that turns into a second chance and insta-family are only tropes for romance novels. This is real life.

“So tell me about these designs,” I say, shutting down that line of thought. When I’m met with silence, I glance up to find Hope’s eyes sparkling. “What?”

“Nothing.” She’s still smirking, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

For a second, I wonder how much of my thoughts are written on my face, but thankfully, instead of pushing, she follows my lead and focuses on why she’s in my office.

Work. “The designers gave us so many good ideas, and after checking them all out, I love this one for the Bark In The Park and this one for the Thyroid Awareness Event.”

Pulling the artwork in front of me, I look both over with a critical eye.

The colors are warm and inviting for both while complementing the blue and orange of the Smokies team colors.

The rescue graphics work wonderfully, and the stars for the thyroid awareness event are perfect.

Smiling, I glance up at Hope. “I like them too.”

“Great. Do you want me to start on the marketing materials, or do you need to let Travis look them over?”

“Definitely want Travis’s approval first,” I say, grabbing my phone and opening David’s text. It is Finn’s number. “Would you mind sending them to him and cc’ing me on the email?”

“Not at all,” Hope says, as she walks to the door. “I’ll just close this for you so you can talk about David in private.”

Her laughter fills my office as the door softly closes behind her.

Just as I’m dialing Finn’s number, there’s a knock on my door. “Come in?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Hope walks toward me with a cheeky grin. “This was sitting on my desk for you.”

Handing me the envelope, I see Tony’s name and address in the corner. My heart sinks. I didn’t forget about Aunt Dottie’s will or stipulation, but just like everything else in my life, I’ve gotten good at putting things I don’t want to deal with on the back burner.

“Thank you, Hope.” The ache in my heart I felt this morning returns, and I’m unable to keep it from my voice.

I can feel the weight of her gaze as it lingers on me. “Are you okay?”

“It's just some family stuff I have to deal with regarding my aunt’s will,” I say, putting the envelope aside. I give her what I pray is a convincing smile.

The concern in her eyes lifts as she smiles in return. Knowing I was convincing deepens the ache rather than relieving it.

I’m getting so tired of doing all of this alone.

“Hopefully she left you a ton of money,” she teases, and I can’t help it, I snort. She winks, and a genuine grin crosses my face. “I’ll let you get back to calling Finn Mitchell.”

Finn. Yes. I’ll call Finn first.

I reach for my phone through a haze, the weight of being betrayed by the person I trusted most nearly overwhelming me.

“Not now, Cat,” I whisper. “Later.”

Later, I’ll read why the person I depended on the most would do the second worst thing to me.