Page 18 of Home Field Advantage
I laugh. “None taken. It’s honestly kind of a relief.”
He opens his mouth to say more, but the other bartender slides up beside him, wiping his hands with a dish rag before extending his hand over the bar. “I’m Tucker, by the way. Big fan.Hugefan. I love the sport. And you. Yeah, I love you,” he rattles off in rapid succession before turning to look at Griffinwith a face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree, while he bounces where he stands. “Oh my god, it’s Dallas Westbrook.”
“Tucker,” Griffin warns. “You sound like a nutcase right now.”
“How is that different from any other time?” the female who said she was from the city cuts in. “I’m Blair, by the way. You’ll get used to Tucker. Don’t worry.”
“Wait.” I pause, and stare at how familiar she looks now that she’s told me her first name. “Are you Blair…Andrews? Like, formerly married to ex-mayor Theodore?”
She points a finger at my face with a warning. The same way I did earlier. “Don’t say it.” She softens her features. “I live here now. Moved on a whim to get out of the city after he cheated on me, which I’m sure you heard about…” She pauses, and I nod. “I needed to get away from that life. Now I’m with this brute.” She gestures toward Griffin.
“I’m not a brute. Not anymore, at least.”
I laugh at the exchange taking place. These people seem like good, nice people. I can tell Tucker is an interesting character, but he also seems fun.
“I’m sorry for my abruptly rude response before when you asked me what I was doing here,” I say to Blair. “It took me off guard that people sixteen hours away, in a small town, recognized me.”
Blair waves me off. “Please. No need to be sorry, I understand. When I first moved here, I didn’t want anyone to recognize me either because I didn’t want to be known as the woman who was cheated on by the mayor.”
“That, I understand.”
“You’re famous,” Tucker cuts in. “Of course, people will recognize you.”
“Tucker has a point.” Blair laughs. “Where did you move to?”
Tucker leans on the bar, resting his chin on his knuckles. “Yeah, where did you move to?”
Blair swats his arm with the back of her hand. “Cut it out, stalker.”
“I didn’t move here.” I shake my head. “Well, I have, but it’s only temporary.” She tilts her head to the side in confusion, and I release a sigh. “I’m just here for a little while to get my head on straight outside of the city.”
Griffin nods repeatedly as if he likes what he’s hearing. “This is the best place for that.”
“Nan got me set up on Poplar Street. Nice place. There aren’t very many people around, though.”
“You’re going to find that anywhere you go here.” Blair laughs.
“My other sister actually lives on that street,” Griffin adds. “So I know you have some good neighbors. She keeps to herself and stays focused on her job, so you probably haven’t seen her around yet.”
I look at Griffin and can’t help but wonder who his sister is. The longer I stare, the more his features start to resemble a certain someone I can’t get out of my head. But it can’t be. She has this strawberry blonde hair that’s permanently ingrained in my head, while he has a darker brown color. Maybe it’s this single glass of whiskey he offered me that’s already getting to me. Or perhaps, it’s me conjuring her up in my thoughts again because I can’t stop thinking about the woman I met for less than ten minutes.
The music cuts out with a piercing screech, and we all snap our heads to Nan. “Sorry, y’all. Promise I ain’t trying to blow this place up,” she shouts before getting the cord right, and music starts bumping through the speakers again.
“Sometimes I think she is,” Griffin mutters, but doesn’t bat an eye. Clearly, he’s used to her antics.
“Unfortunately, they don’t have baseball here.” Blair shrugs. Being from San Francisco, she probably knows how big of a deal it was for me from all the media. “At least I don’t think so.”
Griffin shakes his head. “No, we don’t have anything. No bigleagues. No little leagues. I know the kids like to play out at the barnyard, though.” He shrugs.
“So I’ve heard. Nan was telling me when I got into town, and I kind of, sort of, agreed to coach them.”
“You, what?” Blair laughs. “You do know coaching kids is wildly different from coaching adults?”
“Wait, can I play?” Tucker raises his hand like he’s in a classroom. “Oh, oh, oh. No, I can help you coach if you want. I’m great with kids.”
“That’s because youarea kid,” Griffin deadpans.
“Twenty-three, Griffin. That’s an adult, last I checked.”
