Page 28 of Caught Stealing

I let him drive again until he pulls into a long driveway beautifully landscaped with lavender and rose bushes.

“Looks like Nancy got the lavender planted today,” he says, but since I don’t know who Nancy is and I’m concerned about my dog, I slam my door shut and rush to the fence. It’s a six foot privacy fence, so I stand on my tiptoes to look over it. Sure enough, the two escape artists are taking turns going down the slide.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I say and press my hand to my chest. My heart is still racing but my girl is safe. Andrew peers over the fence and groans.

“I’m sorry. Looks like my dog is a horrible influence on yours. I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack on our second date.” He leans his back against the fence and grimaces.

“Were you planning that for the third date? Maybe holding off until I’m fully hooked?” I tease and lean back beside him while my heart slows.

“Fully hooked?” he asks and rolls his head to look at me. There’s sorrow in his eyes, but that same grin tugs at his lips. “Does that mean you are partially hooked now?”

I tap my chin and quirk my lips to one side. “Mmmaybe. I like you so far, despite the antics your dog got mine into. I’m a little worried about what you have to tell me though.”

Andrew pushes off the fence and nods toward the door. “Want to come in for a glass of water and I’ll explain?”

I look over his shoulder at his house. It’s not one of the larger homes in the neighborhood, but it is gorgeous. All brick with a double chimney, a stone walkway, and dark blue accents. It boasts a large front porch with a swing, hanging ferns, and a cozy, inviting appeal.

“Sure. Why not?” I let him lead me up the front stairs and through the door where I decide the inside does not match the exterior. It is the least welcoming environment I’ve ever seen, and I can’t say that it suits him at all.

With its white sofa, functional but cold tables, and minimal color, it seems more like something a soulless zombie might like. Okay, maybe not soulless, but there is nothing warm and inviting about it. It’s the opposite of Andrew so far as I can tell, but I remind myself that he has some deep secret to share. A chill runs down my spine. Did I just walk into a serial killer’s trap? Why on earth did I agree to enter his home?

Stop it, Lottie. I’m being ridiculous now, but when Andrew opens his sliding glass door and lets the dogs in, I am instantly comforted by Ginger’s presence.

“Let me get them some water too and then we can talk. Make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the sofa, but I doubt I’ll find much comfort there. Still, I sit and wait for him to fill a giant water bowl and set it out on the porch. The sun is setting and it’s a little cooler, so he closes the screen and leaves the heavy door open once the dogs slip back out.

He heads back to the kitchen and fills a couple glasses of water before entering the living area. I take one and have a sip, but fall short of where to place it once I’m done.

“You can just put it on the table. I hate this furniture, so maybe if you ruin it I can rationalize getting something new.”

Oh thank goodness. At least he’s not a cold, aloof jerk like his furniture implies.

“So, I can’t figure out what you could have to say that would be a deal breaker. We’ve gone over the basics. You’re not a serial killer. You have job and you appear to be a normal, well-functioning adult. What’s this big thing you need to tell me?”

I brace for impact.

Andrew licks his lips and ruffles his hair. “First, I’d really like to tell you that I’m fond of you, Lottie. I had so much fun on our date and even though our dogs set us up on a wild goose chase, I had a nice time with you today, too. But I respect you and your wishes, so I need to tell you the truth about something.”

My heart sinks deeper.

“When my friend set me up on the app, I asked him not to list my job. I wanted to keep it under wraps for a while until anyone I was matched with got to know me, the real me, not the guy they see…on…on television.”

Oh no. Television? What does he do for the Sharks?

He takes another deep breath and says, “I’m the starting pitcher for the Sharks, and since you said you have no interest in dating an athlete, I knew I needed to tell you. I should have told you that first night, but I was honestly in shock and didn’t know how to come out with it. I tried last night too, but…you know.”

No. No. No. This cannot be happening. The room spins a little as I try to make sense of this situation. Is it really that bad? I have no proof that all athletes are cheating liars, but something about it still doesn’t settle right.

“Lottie, I’m sorry. I never meant to cause you any frustration or hurt. I had no idea when we met that you felt that way, and I kept my job a secret at first because, like I said, I wanted you to get to know me as Andrew and not as a pro athlete. Can you understand?”

“Uh…Um…but why?”

He shakes his head a little and his brow furrows. “A lot of women only want to date me because I’m in the public eye. It gets frustrating trying to figure out who actually cares about me and not my career.”

I nod slightly and swallow.

“Uh, yeah. I guess that makes sense. I’m not mad or anything but I’m not sure what it means going forward. I just don’t like the idea of repeating the same mistake.”

What? Why did I say that? Andrew hasn’t given me any reason to think he’s anything like Rory, but the words spill out. He hasn’t done anything wrong, and I basically insinuated that he’s a lying, cheating jerk.

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