Page 17 of Play Along

“No, not Atlanta. San Francisco.”

Isaiah pauses with his drink partway to his lips. “California? But that’s... on the other side of the country.”

“Yes. But the weather is wonderful, and their team doctor is retiring after this season. Their second doctor doesn’t want the promotion so they’re looking for a replacement and my mentor, who I did a fellowship under, recommended me for the job.”

I can feel the excitement in my voice with every word. It’s my dream job, the job I spent my entire twenties preparing for, and I’m one of three final candidates for the position. I simply have to finish on a strong note with the Warriors this year, interview well when the time comes, and it could be mine.

“California,” Isaiah repeats, eyes searching my face.

I take a long swig of my drink, nodding enthusiastically at both the prospect of what next year could look like and how good this drink is. You can’t even taste the tequila.

“I’d be the first female lead doctor in the MLB.”

Isaiah’s lips curve at that. “As you should be. That’s amazing, Kenny. You deserve all the good things.”

I’m still trying to convince myself of that.

“But just so we’re clear,” he continues. “We’re not telling Dr. Fredrick he’s a misogynist piece of shit or that his view on women in sports is probably why his wife left him last year?”

A laugh bubbles out of me, the way it wants to most of the time I’m around Isaiah, though I typically don’t let it. “Not until I sign my new contract and I’m two thousand miles away.”

Isaiah sighs in resignation, sinking back into his seat. “California, huh? Did you know that’s my least favorite place?”

“And when did you decide that?”

“About two minutes ago.”

He finishes his drink in a few swigs, setting the glass back on the bar top. “I’ll walk you back to your hotel whenever you’re ready to go.”

Huh?

“That’s it? You buy me comfortable shoes and a warm jacket just for one drink that took more time to be prepared than it did for you to consume it?”

“You said one drink.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

Isaiah’s brows lift in surprise, his posture straightening from the defeated slump. “Are you saying you want to stay and have another drink with me, Kenny?”

I’ve never been one to be impulsive like him. Never been one to blur the line between work and fun, but there’s a comfortableness with Isaiah. A comfortableness I don’t let anyone else know about when I’m at work. Maybe it’s because he’s the only person in Chicago who knows about my secret and now, he’s the only one I can share this exciting news with.

Maybe it’s because the finish line is so close. I’m one season away from my dream job. So yeah, maybe I want to have a little fun. Maybe I want to turn off the perfectionist in me and be a little reckless after this weekend of hell.

“Yes.” I swallow down the rest of my cocktail. “I want to have another drink with you.”

Chapter 3

Isaiah

I have no fucking clue how I got here, having God knows how many drinks with Kennedy Kay. Somewhere along the way we left the Cosmo and made our way through three more bars. Or was it four now?

Fuck if I know.

Kennedy tossed her heels in a trash can on the strip, and I noted the red bottoms on those while I was carrying them, so I made sure to pull them right back out from the bin. Sober her would be pissed she threw away such expensive shoes.

She won a hundred bucks on the penny slots. We found ourselves in a karaoke bar without a single other person under the age of forty. I sang a rendition of Mariah Carey’s “Touch My Body” and we left as soon as the older women started taking the lyrics literally.

I took Kennedy to her first strip club where she promptly distributed all the ones in my wallet, and now we’re both utterly wasted, standing in front of the fountains outside of the Bellagio.

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