Rounding the Bases by Jaqueline Snowe

Chapter Three

Sarah

The dog stroller mocked me. I swore it. It rested in the corner of the apartment as both dogs were perched in it, despite having the entire place to run around in. They could’ve chosen the couch, bed, rugs, marble flooring, but no. They wanted the freaking stroller and wagged their tails whenever I looked at them. There were just a few things I never wanted to do, and walking two dogs in a stroller was one of them.

But Mr. Alexandre insisted I do it. It was in the rules.

Showtime.

My dignity had left long ago and had no plans to return. I might as well wear the fanny pack and fedora to complete the ensemble. Plus, the fanny pack was a great place to store my phone and the dog bags. It might not have been in style, but it was functional. It was still hot as balls outside and I changed from my pajamas to a sundress before adding the rest. It would do for a nice morning walk where outside felt like the inside of a stove.

“You guys wanna go outside? You wanna go for a walk?” I asked, raising my voice and clapping my hands. Cassie made no movements, but Pico wagged his tail frantically. Total opposites. “Good boy, Pico. Come here! Leave the stroller.”

The dog jumped out of the front part, forgoing the doggie stairs and landed on the floor so that his legs went in every direction. There was about two seconds of panic before the dog righted himself and I exhaled. I did not want to call Mr. Alexandre and explain how his precious pooch broke a leg on day one. Nope. Not a good look.

“Okay, Cassie, please, pretty please, get out of the stroller.” She glared at me, and when I tried to near her, she let out a deep growl. Not one that meant she would bite me, but it was enough of a warning for me to accept defeat. I would walk one dog like a normal canine, and the other in a stroller. The picture I made should’ve been on my dating apps. Boys would be lining up to date this.

Stroller.

Fedora.

Bright pink dress with a hot orange fanny pack.

Two dramatic dogs.

God, I screamed sex goddess with the look. I snapped a picture and sent it to my friends in our group chat, and was immediately sent back various forms of sobbing emojis. After taking the keys from the front table, I shut the door and made my way down the hall to the elevator. Did I glance at Brigham’s door? Yes. Did I sniff the air to see if his cologne was present? Also yes. He was so pretty to look at and kind and a terrible influence on a young woman like me. Mr. Alexandre’s insistence on staying away was as successful as the calorie labels on chocolate. Hello, yes, of course I know how much fat is in this and no, I don’t care, thank you.

There was no lingering man-scent in the air, and while it disappointed me, I was bound to run into him again a few times within the three months. We arrived at the elevator and I pressed the button, waiting for the familiar ding to signal its arrival, and when it happened, Pico chose that moment to lift his leg and pee on the right wall. “Ah, shit. Come on, man.”

“Hello to you too, Blue Bell.”

Ah, that sweet, wonderful voice. It was like a sexy hug the way it hit my ears. I looked up to meet his amused expression and blushed head to toe when his attention shifted to Pico and his mess. “This isn’t ideal,” I said.

“Running into me or having to clean dog pee? One sounds great, the other not so much,” he replied, chuckling and moving into the hallway so he stood next to me. He wore workout gear that showed his spectacular arm muscles and made my skinny, non-athletic body feel like an uncooked noodle.

“You damned well know that pee is not ideal. You are a nice surprise.” I unzipped my fanny pack and pulled out some napkins I’d stored in there. Brigham’s eyebrows rose into his hairline when I made a dramatic attempt to zip it shut.

“What else you got in there?”

“The essentials.” I rolled my eyes. “Gum, wipes, fruit snacks, dog bags, mints and lip balm.”

“Right. The essentials.”

“Don’t mock me, Monaghan. Sometimes walks are long and I need to be prepared for anything.”

“Fruit snacks?” he said, smiling so wide I got lost in his perfectly straight teeth.

“We all have our vices. Mine happen to be sugary crap filled with goo.” I frowned at Pico, who was now tried trying to eat the wipe I’d put on the floor. “Well, that didn’t work.”

“Do you need help?”

“Wiping pee?” I asked, deciding to head back in and clean it now before Fernie found it and reported it to someone who actually had authority. “Hm, can you stay right here with the dogs?”

I didn’t wait for him to reply before I handed off Pico’s leash and jogged back to the apartment. The keycode was easy to remember and I went in, grabbed paper towels and was back all within thirty seconds. “See? You’re a pro.”

“The one in the carriage looks like she wants to eat me.”

“Who wouldn’t?” I said, not thinking. My face warmed and I shrugged at his surprised laugh. “Apologies. That wasn’t appropriate of me. It’s just that your looks distract me.”

“Are you always so…honest?”

“Yes. It’s an issue, I know. My brain just is slower than my mouth. Or my mouth is slower, I’m not sure. But whatever tube my thoughts travel through to get to my mouth is clogged or something, because I say whatever comes to mind without filtering.” I wiped the mess up and groaned. “Damnit. I forgot a ziploc bag.”

I didn’t ask before hustling back inside and grabbing one, shoving the messy paper towels into it and shutting it. Brigham stared at me like I was the most bizarre creature he had ever seen and a trickle of doubt seeped in. I was weird. I knew it, my parents knew it and my friends told me all the time. The issue was, they got to know the real me so my weirdness didn’t bother them.

First dates were not so great for me. Dating in general wasn’t too great for me. The members of the opposite sex who I happened to be attracted to weren’t that into me. I accepted it and only let it bother me every so often. Like now. I cleared my throat and pushed my hair over my shoulders. “Thank you for your help. I can take it from here.”

He frowned as he passed over the leash. “Are you taking them, well, one of them, for a walk?”

“Per Mr. Alexandre’s orders, they require walks two times a day.” I pressed the elevator button and tapped my foot on the floor to the song I’d been rocking out to before walking time. Brigham could’ve left at any time and I didn’t want him to think I was keeping him here. I snuck a glance and he had a cute little line between his eyebrows, which could have been concern, curiosity or displeasure. The attractiveness of his face threw me off and I couldn’t decipher his mood. The ding signaled the doors opening and I was glad to escape the narrow hallway. I went to push the stroller in first, but Brigham reached out and took the bar in his hands.

“Can I walk with you?’

“I mean, I won’t stop you if you walk outside on a public sidewalk.” Goddamn it. Why am I this way? Why?

“It is out of your jurisdiction.” He looked down at Cassie with tender eyes. “She looks so grumpy. Honestly, she has the same expression my grandma has when I cuss at dinner.”

That made me snort in a very unattractive way. “You shouldn’t cuss in front of your grandma. It is ungentlemanly of you.”

“Noted, Blue Bell.”

We stared at each other as we descended, and the longer I studied him, the hotter my face got. He looked like a good time wrapped in a pretty, sparkly, hot pink bow. There was no reason he should be giving me any attention. I was so far out of his league, it was laughable. The kind of laughing that required a knee slap or two. My mind whirled, and the more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense. “Why are we talking?”

“Excuse me?” He gave me an odd look before reaching over and petting Cassie. The hussy dragged her tongue all over his hand—which, who can blame her—and did not growl once. Rude.

“Why are you walking with us?” I asked as we headed into the foyer. Fernie saw us and scowled, so I winked at him. Maybe I’d make him some lemon squares. He looked like he could use some. He was totally not a brownie type of guy.

“Are you meeting up with someone? Shit, sorry. Am I keeping you?” He stopped walking and ran a hand over his jaw. It was endearing to see actual worry in his eyes.

I held up a hand and smiled. “No. You are not imposing in the least. I was just curious as to why you, a rugged lumberjack model, want to hang out with me, a pet sitter with four hundred dollars to my name.”

He laughed. Hard. “God, you’re great.” He kept giving me warm glances that obviously went to my head, because there was no reason for tenderness on his face. But both hands remained on the stroller and he pushed. “Four hundred, huh? Don’t spend it all at once.”

“Ha. Ha.” I started walking behind him and my skin started perspiring the second the heat hit us. “I took out all these loans for school, where I went to classes I didn’t want to attend. It was a shit decision. My dream job is doing what I’m doing—pet-sitting. But if I’m going to share it all, which I might as well, my real dream would be to start my own pet-sitting business.”

“People do treat their pets better than some kids.”

“Right? I love animals but don’t want to be a vet. School is so not my thing.” I scrunched my nose. “You need to share something about yourself now, since I’ve told you everything in my diary.”

His expression warmed before we turned the corner so we were on one of the busiest streets in downtown Phoenix. Cars whipped by and the sun reflected off the windshields so it hit my eyes. I held up my hand to block the aggressive light, but it was no use. Brigham handed me his aviators. “Here, wear these.”

“Those manners again.” I took them without letting my fingers touch his because I would surely combust from the contact. “Thank you, Brigham. Do I look super cool in them?” I asked, striking a model pose. “I could never wear aviators since I tend to wear sunglasses like a hair accessory and the little nose guards get stuck in my hair. It’s a whole thing.”

“The fanny pack overrides the cool glasses. No offense.”

“None taken.” We passed a coffee shop and I swore a couple of heads turned our way as we passed. I got it. He was a looker and I was walking next to him. But one woman took out their phone and captured a photo of him. I checked to see if he noticed, but he looked unaffected. Weird. “Anyway, tell me your darkest secret. That’s only fair.”

He coughed down a laugh and got quiet for a few seconds. “I’m terrified my current…job won’t want to keep me after a pretty big misunderstanding. The fear paralyzes me and I get lost in my head.”

“Hm.” I bit my lip and digested his words. “Can you clear up the misunderstanding?”

He made a pained face. “I’ve tried, but there are people who have more influence and are…twisting the story.”

“Lying? They are lying? Can you involve Human Resources?”

He shrugged. “I’m waiting to see what the outcome is, and it could be any day, week, month or second. It’s exhausting. That’s why I like hanging with you, Blue Bell. You distract me.”

Goddamn it—my entire body flushed red. “Did we just become friends?”

“Ha. Yes. Yes, we did.” He continued looking at me with warmth in his hazel eyes and my knees threatened to buckle. That wouldn’t do. I focused on Pico and his awful walking etiquette. The damn dog weaved back and forth so fast he also took me down with him. I stumbled, and Brigham reached out with his massive hand and curled his fingers around my elbow. “Woah, careful there.”

“Yeesh. Thank you.” The fact I almost fell caused me to feel light-headed—not the brief contact from my forever man-crush. “So,” I started, cleared my throat and needed to change the direction of my thoughts. “What do you do?”

“I uh, work in sports.” His voice seemed different. Less friendly and more distant. “Why?”

“Just learning more about my new friend and trying to brainstorm a way we can fix your situation. I might be small, but I’m sneaky. Deceptively sneaky. Never engage in a prank war with me, because I will win. Always.” I made sure to look as stern as possible, and he responded with a lopsided grin.

My heart turned gooey at his playful expression.

“Big words, Blue Bell. Those are big words.”

“Shit. You said sports. Does that mean you’re stupidly competitive? Like, you give yourself a prize for cleaning your plate and that second place is the first-loser type of guy?” I cringed and pretended to scoot farther away from him. “I’m rethinking our friendship already.”

“You never gave me a chance to,” he said, moving closer to me as a group of teenage girls approached us. He reached out and put an arm around my shoulders, and all the air left my lungs when he pressed me against his side. My god. The muscles. The scent. The warmth.

Wait, why is he doing this?

“Brigham! Oh my god, it’s you!” one very pretty girl said, holding up her phone and taking pictures of us. “Can I get a selfie with you, please?”

The other girls started asking rapid-fire questions and soon, there was a circle around us. It happened so fast. Like, less than thirty seconds and we had no clear escape path. I tried moving, but his grip on me tightened and it hit me. Brigham had fans. Fans who knew his name.

Oh god, what does he do? Some sports ball star?

“Ladies, please, no photos today. I’m out with someone and I want to respect her privacy.”

Wrong thing to say, man.I could’ve told him that. Every pair of eyes moved in my direction like a weird Toy Story scene and various emotions stared back at me. Anger, confusion, jealously, sadness. I stood where they wanted to be. “Who is she? Is she your girlfriend? You’re dating?”

Brigham started walking forward and picked up Pico so the poor guy wouldn’t get trampled. “We need to tend to the dogs. Maybe another time.” He pushed forward without stepping on anyone, and it wasn’t until we got a block away that he set Pico down and gave me the saddest look. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out about that part of my life.”

“The part where you probably play sports ball and have fans?”

“Yes.” He pinched his nose and his eyes looked darker. “Do you watch baseball?”

This time I laughed hard. “No. Sports are not my thing. Not even a little bit. Soccer has the black and white ball and tennis is the small yellow. That might be the extent to which I know anything that involves balls.” Oh my god. I hit my forehead. “I said balls.”

“You did,” he said with humor in his voice. The dark expression left and I was glad. “Now you know.”

“That you play with balls for a living?”

He barked out a laugh, and I decided it was my new favorite thing. Making Brigham happy. “That I’m a well-known athlete.”

“Yeah. I guess I do know.” I started walking again. “Good thing I really don’t care.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yup. Why would it? If you make me play anything athletic, I will refuse and throw an entire fit about it. And if you make me watch it against my will, I will get revenge, and I warned you about that. So, yeah…I’m good.”

He opened his mouth a couple of times, but no sound came out besides a relieved sigh. “Okay then.”

“Glad it’s settled. Oh, look out, Pico is trying to pee on you.”