Page 51 of Love in the Outfield

GEORGIA

It’s been a week since Cade went on the road and I swear it is not lookin’ good for me. I’m circling the drain. I feel like I’m having withdrawal. Ava gave me an earful for moping around before I left for work. I swear I’ve got no game. The bar is packed with diners waiting to be seated at their tables. It’s Friday night and people are ready to unwind at the end of the week. I’m grateful we’re busy tonight, especially since I’m bartending with Eric. I just hope we get a break at some point so I can get his perspective on things.

The restaurant is upscale, and the bar area is dimly lit with soft jazz piped in. The buzz of conversation and laughter fills the room. The mirrored back bar is beautifully polished mahogany, with every top shelf booze known to man lined up on the glass shelves. After filling the server’s table order, I lean forward to take the next customer’s drink order.

“What can I get y’all?” I ask.

“Can I have two martinis?” she asks.

“Sure, dirty?”

“Is there any other way?” she says smiling.

I grab two martini glasses then reach for the top-shelf gin, pouring a generous amount over ice in a stainless-steel shaker. A touch of vermouth, a splash of olive brine to make it dirty, a twist of lemon then I shake it. When I’m satisfied it’s chilled enough, I strain the liquid into each glass. Reaching for a couple of colorful spears, I stab several olives then stick them in each martini. For the finishing touch, I use a paring knife to add a twist of curling lemon peel.

“Here you go,” I say pushing the drinks forward so she can reach. She hands me her credit card and I ring her up. I hear Eric say, “Behind you,” as he glides around me to reach into the cooler for bottled beer. We are a great team behind the bar. It’s like a synchronized dance. We rarely bump into each other and we work quickly and seamlessly together. I pour a glass of red wine for a waiting customer and exchange light banter.

Eric is charming as all get out as he flirts with his customers. He thrives on the rush and cleans up on tips. His tattoos peek out from beneath his rolled-up sleeves as he expertly multitasks, simultaneously flirting while crushing fresh mint for a mojito and pouring a craft beer. He’s amazing. I tell him so every time we work together.

The second we have a lull I check my phone and find a text message from Cade. Smiling I read it several times before pocketing it again.

“You look all starry-eyed. Was that a text from the sexy slugger?”

“Oh, Eric, I got it bad and that ain’t good.”

“Why not? It might be the best thing that could happen for you and August.”

I’m already shaking my head vigorously. “No. I’m terrified I’m going to get hurt again.”

“Hold that thought.” He serves a group of four before returning to our conversation. “Maybe you should give the guy a chance.”

“A chance at what, though? A hookup? Holy matrimony?” I say laughing. “All I know is he keeps insisting he wants to try again, but try what?”

“Ask him.”

“I can’t. If I crack that door one little bit he’ll steamroll right over me. You don’t know him like I do. He is a force of nature.”

“He’s certainly a force on the baseball field.”

“I just can’t get him off my mind. I was doing so good too… before he showed back up.”

“My advice… go for it. You’re already invested, best I can tell. You share a kid. It’s worth a risk.”

“You gonna pick up the pieces?”

“Of course.”

“My family would kill me if they knew I was entertaining the thought of starting back up with Cade.”

“This is your life, Georgia. In my opinion, you two have unfinished business. May as well see where it leads.”

“You really think so?”

“Yep. The guy has been saying and doing all the right things. Give him a chance to prove himself.”

I ponder while chewing the end of a cocktail stirrer. “I’ll consider it. At this point, I’m only fighting myself.”

Our lull is over as a swath of customers step up to order. “To be continued,” Eric says.

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