Page 213 of Waiting Game

Jealousy is new to me. Much as it is for her. But I have a plan.

Once Gracie knows about us, Chuck’s will be my hangout. I’ll drag some of the others down here too. Greco—he hates Liam. He’ll come here to stick it to the captain.

Because Gracie will eventually accept Mia, and my payback will be as bad as Prometheus’s, but Liam? Nah. Forgiveness will be a long time coming.

She’s worth it though.

Plan in place to get this bar ticking over through fans showing up to catch Stars having a drink here, I nose through the pieces on the table. Unfortunately, it’s like a game of Jenga. One wrong move and everything’ll nose-dive.

Carefully, I pull the tangle apart and lay it on the floor so that she’ll be able to access it better later.

“Man, you have a Grey Junger signed bat?!”

“Yup. That was a part of Chuck’s hoard.” Her head dips around the door. “There are a couple of neat bats. Chuck had a thing about collecting ‘em. He got real excited when he set them on the wall.”

“You could have sold this for twenty grand.”

“Wow. The value must have increased a lot since he bought it.”

Something in her tone has me clearing my throat. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“You… You’re sure it’s worth that much?”

I think about the birthday gift I got Colt this year—a signed Babe Ruth 1946 American League baseball that cost over fifteen grand. “I’m sure.”

Sure that Chuck was a douche.

“I guess it wouldn’t be much of a sports bar without memorabilia on the wall.”

“It’s practically two months’ payments, Mia.”

“Chuck said the collection was mostly nostalgic.”

Chuck was an idiot.

“He was wrong.”

Even dirty, this shit is worth a fortune.

Her smile is better than a leg massage after bag skating. “If the time comes and turnover doesn’t pick up, then I know what to sell first, I guess?”

“Yeah.”

She glances at my handiwork. Her expression is nonchalant but she can’t hide her hope from me. “Some of this stuff’s worth a lot, then?”

I point to an Aaron Judge batting helmet. “That’s worth about twelve hundred bucks. Never mind that—” When she frowns, I break off to ask, “What is it?”

“I-I don’t understand. I asked him to have it valued. He said because things weren’t pristine, they were worthless. How could he get that wrong?”

Because he was a manipulative jerk-off who didn’t care about leaving his niece to drown in his debts.

“Maybe he got the wrong person to do the valuation,” I try to appease, but I know she’s putting one and one together and getting two.

Her sigh is tired. I hate that. “I’m almost done out there.”

“Take your time.”

I return my attention to Chuck’s hoard. Can’t deny that there’s some cool shit here. The man might have been an arrogant moron who didn’t deserve his niece’s loyalty but he had a collector’s eye.

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