Page 42 of The Virgin Game Plan (Rules of Love 2)
I put the phone away, and Crosby glances in the rearview mirror as he nears the ballpark. “What’s the story?”
“He wants me to have some media training. So I can keep saying shit like ‘Everything’s coming up roses.’”
Crosby jumps on this. “Dude, that’s what I was telling you before. I think that’d be an excellent idea. All you need is a coaching session, and you’ll be spinning words into sponsorship gold like G and me do,” he says, clapping Grant, who has more endorsement deals than even Crosby, on the shoulder.
There is no more golden boy in baseball than Grant Blackwood.
But do I tell them that Reese offered to help me out last night? That I’ve got a meeting with her this weekend? To go over some media tips, then practice them in a quick follow-up interview for her podcast.
Before I can say a word, though, Crosby barks at his phone.
“Hey Google, call Nadia.” As it’s ringing, he says to me, “She just started working with this new press firm on all her charitable stuff. The woman who runs it is great. I’m sure she’s got someone who can give you a quick coaching session.”
Yup. Better to tell him. “I’ve already got—”
But I don’t snag a chance to finish the sentence, since Crosby is talking into the speakerphone to his girlfriend. “Hey, sweetheart. Can you hook my helpless friend Holden up with a one-on-one session with someone over at Moore Media?”
“Of course. Jillian has a new hire who’ll be perfect for him. Reese Fallon. I think she even interviewed him a couple of years ago.”
I pipe in before this gets out of hand. “I’ve already got a meeting with her. It’s all good. Thank you, Nadia.”
“I’m so glad to hear that, Holden,” she says to me. “Jillian was so excited to hire her. She started one of the fastest-growing new sports podcasts in recent memory.”
“She still does her podcast,” I say, pride in my tone because I am damn proud of her. “It’s terrific.”
“I’m glad you two are working together,” Nadia says.
“It’s not really work. I’m doing a quick follow-up interview for her podcast—a ‘where are you now’ thing. And then she’s just helping me out with tips. As friends,” I point out, since we aren’t athlete and client.
But are we truly friends?
We’re sort of professional, but we’re more like . . . almost lovers.
When Crosby pulls into the lot to drop me off, he takes the phone off speaker and lowers his voice for Nadia.
As they talk quietly, Grant swivels around, a smile on his face but lasers in his eyes. “Whatever happens with Reese, do not break her heart. Or I will no longer be Mr. Nice Guy.”
I blink, surprised at first, but then I nod, understanding him completely. “The last thing I want to do is hurt her.”
“She’s like a sister to me,” he adds tightly.
“You have nothing to worry about. Because nothing can happen between us.”
I leave and walk into the clubhouse.
As I pull on my uniform, I’m chatting with the guys on the team when Edward Thompson strides in.
The energy shifts in the room.
The guys straighten their shoulders, stand taller, and lower their voices as they wait to hear from the new skipper.
I tuck my shirt into my pants and turn around as the man, salt-and-pepper in his hair, an inviting smile on his face, moves down the line of lockers.
He shakes the hand of one of our starting pitchers. “So good to see you, Dante. How’s Macy?”
“Excellent,” he says. “She just released a new mystery novel.”
“Good for her. Her last one was riveting.”
He continues his walk. Shakes the hand of our closing pitcher. “Good to see you, John. How’s your mom doing with her knee?”
“Surgery went well. She’s much better.”
“Beautiful. So good to hear.”
He makes his way to me. Offers a hand. Clasps mine. “Holden Kingsley. Nice to see you again.”
Does he actually remember me from that thirty-second encounter in Seattle? “Good to see you again too, sir,” I say, admiration in my tone.
He keeps holding my hand, his grip firm. “How’s your family? Your mom? Your dad? Your brothers? They’re twins, right?”
And the answer is—he does. “Wonderful. They’re in college now.”
“That’s great. And I saw you made some adjustments after we met.”
“I did. They made a big difference.”
“They took your game from good to great.”
As he chats with the rest of the guys, a warmth spreads through my chest. Damn, that compliment felt good.
When he’s done, he clears his throat, stopping at the front of the locker room. “Let’s treat this as a new day. We’re a brand-new organization with a clean slate. Forget the past. Start over, starting today,” he says, stabbing the air for emphasis.
He talks a little more, and when he’s done, he returns to me. “You’re batting fourth.”
Excitement tears through me. I’ve been batting fifth and sixth. Batting cleanup is huge.
