Page 12 of Catching Her Heart
I keep calling him. He never answers.
The worst part is covering the games. I have to sit in the press box, watching Ted struggle behind the plate, and pretend I'm not dying inside. He's made two errors in the last two games—Ted Brennan, who never makes errors. During yesterday's game, he struck out three times. Three times. I've watched him play for weeks now, and he's one of the most consistent hitters on the team.
But I can't write about it. I know Tim expects me to cover Ted's sudden slump—it's becoming the story everyone's talking about—but I can't bring myself to put his struggles in print. Instead, I've been focusing my articles on Jay's continued dominance andthe team's overall winning streak. It's getting harder to avoid the obvious story, though.
"Blackwood!" Tim appears at my desk like a storm cloud. "Where's that piece on the team's defensive struggles? Brennan's made more errors this week than he has all season."
"I'm working on a different angle," I say, not looking up from my computer screen. "The pitching rotation analysis you wanted."
"The pitching rotation can wait. Brennan's the story right now. What's going on with him?"
My stomach clenches. "I don't know. Players have slumps."
"Players don't usually have slumps that coincide with personal drama," Tim says pointedly. "I heard he's been asking around about trade rumors. Maybe he's distracted by contract negotiations."
"Where did you hear that?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual.
"Sources, Blackwood. The kind you're supposed to be cultivating." Tim leans on my desk. "Speaking of which, have you made any progress on those insider connections? The trade deadline is next week, and Simmons's been filing exclusive after exclusive."
I want to scream that I had a connection, that I threw away the best source I've ever had because I actually care about him. Instead, I just nod and promise to work harder.
After Tim storms off to terrorize someone else, I grab my purse and head for the door. I need air, I need coffee, I need to be anywhere but here.
I'm walking toward Hill Country Coffee because apparently I'm a masochist who enjoys torturing herself. I’m almost there when I hear a familiar voice.
"Piper! Oh my goodness, Piper!"
I turn to see Bridget hurrying toward me, wearing her Austin Stars jersey and carrying approximately six shopping bags. Her face lights up when she spots me, and my heart sinks. I'm not ready to face Ted's family. Not when I feel this raw.
"Bridget, hi," I manage, forcing a smile.
"I've been hoping I'd run into you!" She sets down her bags and pulls me into a hug. "We missed you at Sunday dinner. Mom made your favorite sandwiches and everything."
"I'm sorry, I've been really busy with work?—"
"Oh, I know how it is. Teddy's been busy too. So busy he forgot to eat Mom's lasagna yesterday. Can you believe that? Teddy never forgets lasagna." Bridget's expression grows concerned. "He seems so sad lately. Just moping around, staring at his phone like he's waiting for it to ring."
My chest tightens. He's staring at his phone? Is he hoping I'll call? But he never answers when I do.
"I'm sure he's just focused on the games," I say weakly.
"Maybe. But he keeps asking if we've heard from you. And yesterday he asked Mom to make extra sandwiches, then looked so disappointed when you didn't show up." Bridget studies my face. "You two didn't have a fight, did you?"
I open my mouth to deflect, but something in Bridget's worried expression breaks me a little. "It's complicated."
"Oh, honey." Bridget's voice goes soft. "I know you two had a little spat, but surely you can work it out before the wedding!"
"The wedding?" I stare at her.
"Well, I've been practicing new songs! I found this beautiful version of 'At Last' that would be perfect for your first dance. Want to hear it?"
Before I can stop her, Bridget starts humming, and I realize she has no idea how serious this is. She thinks we had a minor disagreement, not that Ted believes I betrayed his trust and ended things completely.
"Bridget," I interrupt gently. "Ted and I... we're not getting married. We're not even dating anymore."
Her face falls. "What? But you're perfect for each other! And I already picked out my maid of honor dress!"
Despite everything, I find myself smiling at her priorities. "I'm sorry. I know you were excited."
