Page 34 of Vegas Heat

“When we get home. Maybe over a glass of wine.”

“Uh oh,” she says. “He’s already breaking out the wine. This must be big.”

“It’s huge.”

She sits quietly, her mind working I’m sure on the thirty minute drive from the airport to the three bed, two bath luxury apartment I’ve been renting. When I first moved out here, my boss, Carla, put me up in corporate housing close to theoffice. I opted for a place with a view of the water despite the convenience of literally walking across the street to get to work. This way I can relax with a view when I get home, but I’m also not far from downtown where I can find the action if I want it.

So far I’ve not really found myself wanting it, though. I’ve been enjoying my quiet existence here in San Diego.

I’m in East Village, literally a three minute walk from Petco Park, where the Padres play. I’ve attended more than a few games since I’ve lived here, and I still keep in touch with a lot of the men I played ball with over the years.

Once we’re home, I lug my mom’s suitcases plus my own up to the eleventh-floor suite I rent. She gets settled in while I open a bottle of merlot, her favorite, plus a bottle of beer for myself.

“Chinese okay for dinner?” I yell across the apartment, and I hear ayesfrom her bedroom.

She appears a few minutes later, and I hand her the glass of wine while I grab a second beer since the first one’s already gone.

“Balcony?” I suggest, and she nods. “The food will be here in a half hour or so.”

She follows me out, and we each take a seat in the chairs out there. This place came fully furnished, a definite bonus considering all the furniture I own is currently in the house where my ex lives.

I don’t know why I let her stay there. I just wanted to get out of town. I should sell the place, but it’s a lot of work to sell a house and I haven’t had the motivation to put the work into it.

And so it sits there, my ex who cheated on me living there because I’m too goddamn nice to kick her out.

“What’s going on, Coop?” my mom asks after a long sip of wine.

I rub my palms together up and down as I draw in a deep breath. In my head, I recite the little poem my dad used to say when he was teaching my brother and me to remain calm in anysituation.Up palm, down palm, time to get calm. Breathe real deep and take the leap.

She glances at my hands. She knows what I’m doing.

“Troy Bodine asked me to fly to Vegas with a job offer. The Vegas expansion team was approved, and he’ll be its manager.” I pause, and then I rush the final sentence. “He wants me to play.”

She spits out her wine, the red liquid flying everywhere. “What?”

I suppress a laugh. It’s so her personality to have an over the top reaction to the news. “He said with expansion teams, he’ll end up with leftovers, so he wants someone who can be the face of the team.”

“You do have a cute face,” she says, grabbing my jaw to cup it and squeeze. “But do you evenwantto play again?”

I clear my throat then kick my feet up, balancing them on the handrail in front of me as I stare out at the view.

“I think it’s time to get back in the game.” I chug some more of my beer as I think that through.

“Is your elbow back to a hundred?”

“Yeah. And the stats don’t lie. Remember what my doctor said? Around eighty-five percent of patients who get the Tommy John surgery are back in the game after a year of recovery. The pain is gone.” I straighten and bend my arm at the elbow to demonstrate my bionic elbow after the orthopedic surgeon reconstructed my elbow with ligaments from my hamstring tendon.

“How are you feeling about it?” she asks cautiously.

“I’m thinking honestly I’m a little bored. I like working with Carla, but I can still do work for StrongFitKids off-season, and Kaylee and Ben are up in Vegas, so I can work more closely with them on that side of the program. When I left Troy’s place,” I say, leaving out what Troy’s place actually was, “I made a vow to myself that it was time to get back into both games—baseballand dating. And wouldn’t you know it? A gorgeous woman sat down at my blackjack table not ten minutes later.”

“Oh!” she says, clapping her hands again. “This is it! The meet cute!”

I roll my eyes. “We spent the entire weekend together,” I admit.

“And?”

“And…” I shrug, and I take another swig of my beer before I answer. “And I think I might have fallen in love with her.”

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