Page 154 of Curveball

“I sent it to my lawyer this morning, but I think I’ll do a little research of my own.”

I walk outof the shower and into the locker room after our game. Layton still hangs around and is here tonight. He’s standing there talking to Cheetah, Ezra, and Trey when I approach them.

“Have you guys ever seen the movieThe Town?”

They all nod. Who hasn’t seen that movie? It’s incredible.

“You know that scene when Ben Affleck’s character tells Jeremy Renner’s character something along the lines of,I need your help. You can’t ever ask me any questions about it, but we’re gonna fuck up some people. And then Jeremy Renner’s response is simply,whose car are we taking, yours or mine?”

Cheetah lets out a laugh. “Hell yes. Best fucking scene ever.”

I nod. “Agree. I need some of that energy from you guys tonight.”

Layton, Ezra, and Trey all simply nod. Cheetah channels his best Boston accent, and mimics the movie line, “Whose car we takin’? Yours or mine?”

I’ve never in my life had a group of friends like this. I’m almost choked up with emotion over it, but I’m too focused on the task at hand to let it get the better of me.

It’s just after midnight.I told Ripley I was having a beer with the team at Screwballs after our night game. She didn’t question it because she doesn’t have a deceitful bone in her body, so it wouldn’t occur to her to think that I was lying, but I could tell she was disappointed. I would have preferred we spend the night together too, but this is important.

We all walk into the fancy hotel wearing nondescript baseball hats to partially cover our faces. We don’t want to be recognized, though it’s not easy. Everyone in Philly knows us. Five big guys walking into a hotel forces people to take notice, so we split up. I’m with Layton in one corner while Ezra and Trey are in another corner.

I couldn’t get the room number when I called, but Cheetah has a way about him, so I sent him up to the desk in the lobby to charm it from the hotel clerk.

We’re all in our respective spots, watching from afar as he approaches the desk. We can’t hear them, but within a minute, it appears as though the younger woman is laughing and blushing. I turn to Layton, and he smiles. “Fucking Cheetah and his flirting.”

I poke my head out a drop more to see if I can hear what he’s saying when I bump into a scantily clad blonde woman. I grab her arm, so she doesn’t fall over. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I didn’t see you there.”

Her face lights up as she secures her footing. “Oh my god. You’re Quincy Abbott. The pitcher.”

Shit.

I nod. “I am. I’m sorry about bumping into you, but I’m actually in the middle of something right now.”

She rubs her hand on my arm, ignoring my obvious attempt to get rid of her. “When you’re finished, why don’t we get a drink?” She licks her lips. “And maybe grab a room if you don’t have one already.”

I remove her skanky hand from my arm. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested. Have a good night.”

Her smile fades and her eyes narrow slightly before she finally walks away.

I turn back to Layton. He scrunches his face. “I think she’s a streetwalker.”

“Who uses that term for hookers?”

“Would you prefer a lady of the night?”

“No, call her what she is. A prostitute or hooker.”

“What’s the difference between the two?”

I shrug. “Probably about a hundred bucks.”

He chuckles. “My grandmother used to call them trollops. I’ll stick with that.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes and smile.

A few minutes later, Cheetah returns to us in the darker corner where we’ve hidden since the hooker incident. “They’re in two different suites on the top floor. You can’t just press an elevator button to get there. You need a secure pass to get up to that level.”

I mumble, “Damn it. How are we going to get up there?”

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