Rounding the Bases by Jaqueline Snowe
Chapter Twelve
Brigham
The last person I wanted to meet after a game was my agent, which was probably saying something about who I hire to represent my best interests. It was just tough because he was a shark and got the best deals—but at what point does money not matter? Charles held up a beer at the joint a couple of blocks away from the stadium. I’d have preferred going back to the apartment and seeing if I could convince Sarah to hang out with me again, but he’d insisted we meet.
It was of utmost importance. “Hey, Charles,” I said, sliding onto the barstool and flagging the waiter down. If I wasn’t drinking, I wanted something to quench my thirst. “Arnold Palmer, please.”
She nodded, leaving me with my pissed-off looking agent. “What gives, man?”
“Your sponsors are pulling out, Brigham. The watch company, the athleisure brand, protein shakes… What’s next? The commercials for staying active? I’m worried you’re going to be dropped from all of them.”
He wasn’t wrong. Sponsors had been letting me go since the arrest. It sucked to lose additional income, as my future in baseball was uncertain, but it wasn’t a shock. Sponsors wanted athletes to help use their image to gain profit. My face was associated with cocaine and bribing police officers.
I picked up a coaster and tore it into a few pieces, studying Charles’ hard face. “Where was this concern when the charges were first brought up?”
“I thought we’d beat them.” He downed the small glass that smelled like whiskey. “Thank god for that chick. People are so interested in her that they might forget that you party too hard and bribe officers.”
The waitress returned with my drink and another for him.
“Dude, what the fuck?” I reared my head back. “Sarah?”
“Yes. The blue-haired girl. Social media found her after I slipped her name as an anonymous user.” He barked out a laugh. “It was a genius move on my part.”
“Charles. That is unacceptable.” My jaw tightened and I clenched my fists under the table. The audacity that he’d assumed this would help felt like a punch to the gut. This was an innocent woman who had no fucking business being thrown into my world. “Leave her the fuck alone in this.”
“You care for her?”
“Not that it matters, but yes. I do.” I took some calming breaths and focused on my career. Punching my agent in the face—in a bar, no less—would not be a good look with my current reputation. It would do too much damage. “She isn’t equipped to deal with social media like I am. She’s off-limits.”
“Chill. I’m not going to do anything. I just wanted her name to get out so people can sympathize with the down-and-out dogwalker. It’s good for your tarnished image, Brigham. Like it or not, she is helping you seem less chaotic.” He tossed a handful of peanuts into his mouth from the little dish and I fought a wave of disgust. Not only from the fact that tons of people dipped their dirty fingers into the bowl, but also at his assumption that his behavior was okay.
“Listen, man, you’ve been a killer of an agent for me. You’ve done a lot for my career, but I fucking mean it when I say to leave her alone. I’m not sure you’re listening to me.”
He made an annoyed face. “Sure. Got it.” He pulled out his phone and typed out a few things before looking back up at me. “The few teams that were interested in you aren’t open for discussions anymore. The Soles have been quiet. Nothing is for certain, but I’m not confident they are going to offer to extend your contract. Not with the bribing an officer shit.”
“Isn’t it your job to defend me and work out the misinformation, Charles?” My temper simmered just under the edge and it was becoming extremely difficult to keep it at bay.
“Look.” He twisted his mouth into a tight scowl. “I believe you. I really do when you say you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But you need to make more of an effort to clear your fucking name. Volunteer. Do hospital visits. Make yourself seem likeable and savable. We can hire a PR specialist.”
“No. I don’t want someone taking over my life and making me into someone I’m not. I’m not the best, wholesome guy, but I’m not a drug user who bribes cops. The truth will come out eventually. I have to believe that.”
He barked out a hard laugh. “Sure. That’s a stupidly naïve thing to say. You should know better, Brigham. The truth doesn’t matter when everyone has already made up their mind about you.”
“Then I focus on my game. I need a breakout year with personal bests. Stats don’t lie and can cover up the image bullshit.”
“To a point, sure. But the Soles owner is all about family image. Remember when your pal Gideon got ordered to coach after his fallout? The owner is willing to forgive, but you need to try harder.”
Desperation and weakness were not a good mix. My heart raced and the feeling in my stomach got worse with each passing second. Charles was right. I didn’t have to like his tactics, advice or crass way of speaking the truth. I wiped my palms over my face to the point I saw bright spots over my eyelids. “I think I want to post my side of the story.”
“What does your lawyer say?”
“To sit quietly, but this is bullshit. I’m sick of letting thousands of people think they know the truth.” My conversation with Sarah about taking charge of her own story was just as important for me. “I sat out my fifteen games. My time was done for the MLB. The bribery charges… It’s fake. I didn’t say any of that.”
“I won’t advise you to go against your lawyer’s advice, but whatever you’re doing now isn’t enough. I’ll say that.” He set a twenty on the table and made a show of sliding off the stool and straightening his tie. “You played great tonight, Brigs. It was the old you. The passion and energy. I miss that kid.”
He left, making me feel hollow and unsettled. The urge to do something stupid was dangerously close to overtaking my mind. I craved a release, an escape from this hell, and when my phone buzzed with a text, I knew the exact person I wanted to spend time with.
Blue Bell: If you didn’t know, the latest tabloid said I was pregnant with your cousin’s triplets. I felt like you should hear it from me.
Brigham: Can I see you tonight?
Blue Bell: Is this about the triplets? We can still be friends if it’s not awkward.
Despite my awful mood, she made me happier.
Brigham: I’m in a shit mood and am probably shit company but I’d really like to see you.
Blue Bell: You know where I’m at. I’ll be here.
Blue Bell: I’m sorry you feel down. I’ll start baking. It helps.
It took twenty minutes to leave the bar and arrive in front of the door. A momentary panic took over, knowing she didn’t live here permanently, but that was weeks away. There was no time to worry about things that had yet to happen. Thanks for the advice, Mom. I knocked twice, shifting my weight between my feet as the pressure around my neck got worse with the growing stress.
“Should I have your cousin Bert leave?” she asked as she swung it open. She had her hair in two braids and wore a flimsy red tank top with the same-colored shorts. Even her pajamas were cute. It was her smile and open expression that had my heart beat faster in a good way.
“Bert?” I bit down on my lip to hide my reaction. “That smug bastard. Where is he?”
She giggled, like I wanted her to, and I scooped her up into my arms and kissed her. She parted her bare lips for me and I lost myself in the simplicity of the kiss. Warm mouth, tentative hand movements, soft sounds. She melted in my arms and I broke apart, grinning ear to ear at her gobsmacked expression. “Did you make something with blueberries?”
“Your brain is something else. The ability to go from Bert to kissing me like that to blueberries is a train of thought I can’t comprehend. Your kisses make my brain feel drunk.”
“That is a very good answer.” I set her down and sniffed. “Mm. Something with chocolate?”
“Chocolate chip banana bread. The bananas help convince me it’s healthy.” She ran her finger over her bottom lip and stared at me with wide eyes. “Shall I expect a greeting like that every time you come over?”
“If I say yes?”
“Then I will prepare myself accordingly.” She made a proud face and put on an oven mitt. She made quite the picture with her PJs and mitt, and my sour mood left me little by little the more I stared at her. She pulled out the pan and stuck a toothpick in the center. “Damn. It needs another thirty minutes or so.”
“Thirty minutes, hm?”
She blinked a few times and raised one arched eyebrow. “Do I detect a naughty tone, Brigham?”
“Yes. You definitely do.” I waited until she put the pan back in the oven. “But I’m a nice guy, so I’ll wait until the dessert is done before I make my move.”
“Oh, a move.” She wetted her bottom lip. “I would love to see the moves of Brigham Monaghan, famous sports baller.”
The quick reminder of my life made me wince and a look of regret crossed her face. She frowned and closed the distance between us. “I’m sorry for saying that. Come here.”
She pulled me into a hug. I let her think she had the strength to physically move me, and her tight hug made my chest feel funny. It wasn’t from pain, because she couldn’t actually hurt me, but the feeling of being comforted. It was so new, so foreign, that it startled me. “You’re stiff as a board, Brigham.”
“I know.” I rested my chin on top of her head and took a calming breath. She felt safe while also turning me on each time she wiggled against me. She might be new to sexual experiences, but this comfort with the opposite sex was new to me. “Being around you helps.”
She snorted against my chest before looking up. “Do you want to talk about it? We can talk, not talk, eat, not eat.”
“This is perfect. Right now.”
We stood there, arms wrapped around each other, for a few minutes, and I swore I felt the moment my body relaxed. My muscles unclenched and my mood lifted. Sarah was my happy place for the time being, whether she wanted it or not. “Tell me about your day.”
“Hm. It was pretty okay this morning. The GoFundMe already has a thousand dollars. I couldn’t believe it!”
That was good news. I picked her up and set her on the counter, standing between her legs and keeping my hands on her. “Hell, yeah.”
“Megan made me make her an admin on my social media accounts and she’s going in and either deleting, blocking or reporting the comments that are too aggressive.” She played with one end of her braid before meeting my gaze again. “It was better that way. I much prefer to not read that crap.”
“I prefer you don’t either.” I studied the light dusting of freckles on her nose and the mole just above her right eye that I’d missed. “What else did you do?”
“Facetimed Mr. Alexandre with the dogs. It’s becoming a weird favorite thing? I’m thinking about offering a service like that at Blue Bell Boarding. Make it an upcharge. There are definitely people in the world who would pay for it.”
“Yeah.” I chuckled. “I’ve seen grown-ass humans share ice-cream cones with their pets.”
“I sense judgment in your tone. Watch, you’ll have a dog one day and spoil it rotten.” She scrunched her nose when she smiled and I liked how it made her face look. Joyful.
“My job requires me to be gone for long amounts of time.”
“Well, thank god you know someone who will watch your dog for you!” she teased, looking quite content with herself. “I’ll even give you a discount.”
“You’re so thoughtful.” I stuck my tongue out, getting even more of a giggle out of her.
“How can I not, though? Your job did help me get more attention and funds donated.”
She couldn’t realize what the weight of her words did to my insides. She meant well, but the conversation with Charles came to the front of my mind and I took a few steps back from her. “Is the bread done yet?”
“Oh no. I did it again.” She slid off the counter, put that bright green oven mitt on and rested it on her hip. “You look sad.”
“I’m…” I wanted to change the subject, flirt, comment on her gorgeous pout. But I didn’t. The words bubbled up, thankful to escape, and I unloaded on her. “My agent is pissing me off. He thinks I’m not doing enough to try and salvage my reputation. I’m not going out. I have never done nor will I ever do drugs. I certainly didn’t try to bribe a fucking officer. I just… I keep hoping that the truth will come out. It might be naïve, but I’m having a hell of a time understanding why it’s not.”
“What does he want you to do?” She kept her back to me as she bent low to pull the bread out. It smelled phenomenal.
“Volunteer at hospitals, do-gooder shit and post online about it. I donate money to low-income sports complexes to cover the costs of young athletes, but I’m never going to post it online. How I choose to donate time or money should be on my terms, not in an effort to help people believe me.” I tilted my head side to side, cracking my neck twice. It felt a little better.
“Does your case go to court or anything like that?”
“The goal is for it all to be settled out of the spotlight. Last I heard, one of the key witnesses is changing their story.” I ran my hands through my hair, watching Sarah cut the bread into two decent sized pieces. She placed them on small red plates and jutted her chin toward the couch. I followed and collapsed into the cushions. “It was a false sense of hope.”
“Eat. Sweets solve almost any issue.” She handed me the plate and watched as I brought a corner of the piece to my mouth. She nodded and took a bite herself.
“Good, right?”
“Blue Bell, you are kinda hot when you’re smug.”
She pursed her lips and took another bite, but a slow blush crept up her neck. “I’m really sorry you’re going through all of this, Brigham. It sucks. If I can help you, please let me know. I haven’t a clue how, but I’m willing.”
Use her image.Charles’ voice was unwelcome and I blinked the thought away. “Want to know what helps me?”
“Yes, please.” She scooted closer.
I set her plate onto the coffee table and pulled her into my lap. “This.”
Then I kissed the hell out of her.