Page 72 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
I jump up as she tries to sit on my lap. “Katie, I want to make something perfectly clear, so listen closely. I haven’t thought about you for more than a few minutes since I left Grand Rapids ten years ago. Even if there was something wrong with my marriage—which there definitely is not—you would not be my choice to replace my wife.”
“Wow.” Her mouth drops open. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? I’m just trying to be nice.”
“No, Katie, you’re not just trying to be nice. You—and Ricky—are trying to start some bullshit.” I look over my shoulder as the door beeps and then look back at her. “Are you the one coming after Sophie on Twitter?”
“What are you talking about?” she asks as Joe charges into the room.
“How the fuck did you get in here?” He grabs Katie’s arm. “You’re leaving.”
“Don’t touch me!” Katie screams.
“I’m going to do a lot more than touch you if you don’t move toward that fucking door.”
“Katie,” I say, pulling Joe away from her. “Go home. Go back to Michigan. You no longer have tickets to the games. And if you ever show up at my hotel or any other place I am, I’ll have you arrested as a stalker.”
“A stalker?” She looks up at me—her eyes wide. “How are you saying that to one of your oldest friends?”
“We’re not friends. We’re not anything. We haven’t been for a decade. This isn’t a fucking high school reunion. Stay away from me. Stay away from Sophie. And if you’re the one posting that crap on Twitter, I suggest you delete the account before I find out for sure because I’ll have no mercy for that person—no matter how long I’ve known them.”
She shakes her head as she passes me. “Ricky’s right. She’s changed you, and definitely not for the better.”
Joe steps between us and points to the door. “Now.”
“I’m going,” she says, glaring at him. “I don’t need an escort.”
When the door clicks behind her, Joe turns back to me. “How did she get in here? Did you lose your key?”
I point to my key on the table.
“I’ll talk to security. She must have bribed someone on the hotel staff.” He points at my phone. “Call Sophie right now and tell her about this. If that woman is the Twitter person, this is about to be splashed all over the media. Did she get any pictures?”
“I don’t know. I was just wearing underwear when she came in.”
“Call Sophie right now.”
I look at my phone and shake my head. “No. She’s up in Blitzen enjoying herself. I’ll tell her after the game tonight.”
“Seb,” he says, pointing at my phone again. “Do it now. It’s better if she hears it from you.”
“Hears what? Nothing happened.”
“I know nothing happened. And Sophie will know that too. But you need to tell her before she sees it on Twitter. Do it. Now.”
I watch Joe charge out of the room and then collapse back down on the couch. I stare at my phone for a few seconds and finally call Sophie.
“Hey!” She sounds so happy. It makes me feel even worse. “Why didn’t you FaceTime me? I want to take you on a tour of Nash’s place. It’s so warm and cozy. You would love it.”
“Am I on speaker?”
“Yeah,” she says, her voice getting softer when she hears the tension in my voice. “You’re not now. What’s wrong?”
“Will you go some place private?”
“Seb,” she whispers, “what’s wrong? You’re scaring me. Are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt.” I pause to try to summon the strength to say the next part. “I need to tell you something. It’s not good.”
“Okay.” I can barely hear her. “Tell me. I’m alone now.”
