Page 26 of Force Play

“Relax. I gave her Vivi’s number.” He must see something on my face that tells him I’m still not following. Shaking his head he continues, “Not sure this is any of your business if she hasn’t told you.”

“Suddenly you’re too good for tea time because you’ve got a girlfriend?”

“You’re exhausting, you know that, right? Indie wants to work with nonprofits, helping build volunteer programs and creating talent solutions for their full-time employees . . . or something like that.”

“So you weren’t hooking her up with someone.”

“No. You’ve fucking lost it,” he says adding the final leg to the desk.

We both stand and I help him flip over the desk he’s working on, positioning it against the wall like Poppy instructed. With all the major projects done, and the day winding down, the group is gathered around a charcuterie board sipping on beer or wine. One person is notably missing.

Scanning the small apartment I catch sight of her dark hair gleaming in the late afternoon sun out on the balcony. Her head is tipped back and her eyes are closed as she sits with her legs pulled to her chest on the wicker lounge chair. She looks like she needs a friend. I may not be the one she wants, but I’m who she’s getting.

Before someone can spot me or try to stop me, I’m slipping out the door to join her. When I step onto the balcony, her eyes are still closed as the breeze makes her curl bounce around her heart-shaped face.

“I’ll be back inside in a minute—” It’s a tone she never uses with me, soft and unguarded. And gone the instant she opens those big brown eyes. “I thought you were Poppy. What do you want? I’m exhausted and don’t really want to deal with you.”

“Ouch. After I gave up my day off to help you move.” The glare she levels me with is cold enough to cause frostbite. “Not the right thing to say. Got it.”

“Is there a point, or are you just trying to disturb my peace?”

“I want to give you this.” I fish the piece of tissue paper I snagged from the box of kitchen plates out of my pocket and hand it to her.

“I already have your number.”

“That’s not what this is, but since you brought it up. Would it kill you to use it once in a while?”

Oof that eye roll almost looked painful.

“If it’s not your number, whose is it?”

“That’s my friend Lara’s number. She’s on the board of a few local charities. I heard you wanted to make some connections. If she doesn’t sit on the board, she can tell you who does. Her father is the mayor, and she’s been working with nonprofits since she was sixteen.”

“The mayor’s daughter. Why am I not surprised? I’m not sure she’ll be much help to me. I’m looking at very specific charities—the kind that do meaningful work for youth, or focus on women’s health and marginalized communities. Not just ones that throw fancy galas so they feel better about life.”

Disdain drips off each word, reinforcing exactly what she thinks of me. It’s never been a secret, but she’s wrong on most counts. Not that she has any intention of letting me prove that, so I don’t even try. Words don’t mean shit to her. Whoever hurt her, they did a number. And if I ever find out who it was, I’ll be sure to return the favor.

“You caught me. Super tight with the mayor’s daughter. Practically gave me the keys to the city. I’ve even taken her to a few of those galas.” She turns the piece of paper over in her hand. “Just call her. She’s someone you’ll want to know.”

“And how should I tell her I got the number? If she finds out it’s you, will she run in the opposite direction?”

“Nah, babe. She’s always been satisfied with our encounters.” I don’t tell her it’s because I let her win at bingo, know how to waltz, and write out checks every single time she asks. Indie can find that out the fun way.

“Gross. On all accounts. Don’t call me ‘babe.’ And don’t tell me about your conquests.”

I chuckle and slip back inside, hoping she never realizes that when she’s spicy, it makes me want her more.

Chapter 10

Indie

Teal fingernails trace circles on the inside of my knee as the Bandits leave the field in the bottom of the sixth. It feels good in the way that someone scratching your back before bed does, but the spark that it would have sent through my body weeks ago is more on a fizzle now.

Brianna flew in yesterday. In the two weeks since I left, we’ve texted every day, but have only been able to video chat twice. It’s no one’s fault. She’s swamped with her summer classes and I’m scrambling to make connections as fast as I can.

Thanks to the guys, I’ve got meetings set up all week to make introductions and share my ideas with several of the nonprofits I want to work with. But I’ve still got a long way to go, especially with researching grants and alternate funding, to help me from burning through my savings.

As much as I hate to admit it, Dom’s connection with Lara seems promising. After my initial reluctance to reach out, I did some research and found her philanthropic involvement impressive. I could have done without seeing the photos of her and Dom together looking magazine ready in their gala best. Weird jealousy aside, we spoke briefly on the phone and she was helpful, knowledgeable, and well connected—just like he promised—and there’s no question he’ll hold that over my head every chance he gets.

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