Page 4 of Truth or Tequila (Grand Slam 1)

Chapter Two

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“Seb! Seb!”

When I get out of my car, all I see are cell phones pointed at me. I can’t go anywhere in this town without people shoving their phones in my face. I know it’s part of being a professional baseball player. I’m not complaining. I love my job. I just wish it didn’t come with so much fame.

“Hey.” I give a half-hearted wave to the crowd that’s gathered in front of the hotel. Everyone knows the hotel’s bar is the biggest celebrity hangout in town. There’s always a line waiting to get in, but it’s crazier than usual tonight. There have to be a hundred people crowding the sidewalk in front.

“Are you going to sign an autograph?” Joe says, clearing a path for me. The team requires that I have full-time security. Joe’s my guy. He’s a former Marine. Most of the time, he acts like he’s still at war.

“Damn, Joe. How many guys do you have here tonight?” I say as some of the team’s other security guys swarm around me. I hate having a security detail. I know they’re only doing their jobs—protect the “franchise.” That’s what the media labeled me after I signed the largest contract in baseball history. Since I signed, the team’s owners treat me like I’m made of glass. I know they don’t want me to get hurt, but damn, I’m six foot three, 210 pounds. I can pretty much look after myself.

The crowd’s screaming for autographs and selfies. I rarely do either anymore. When I was a rookie, I’d stand on rope lines and sign autographs for hours, but now—eight years into my major league career—I only sign for kids. One of the local sports blogs reported that fact, so now I have to be on the lookout for people using kids to get my autograph for themselves.

Sports memorabilia dealers hire kids to stand in line to get my autograph, then take it from them, and sell it online. As crazy as that is, they’re not even the worst. Women use their kids to lure me in, then try to slip me their numbers or their hotel room keys. I usually ignore them, but a few years back, my curiosity got the best of me. I asked a woman what she planned to do with her kid if we went back to her hotel room. She said he could wait outside in the hallway. He was like five years old. The media calls me jaded. Yeah, I wonder why.

I finally see the kid who’s going to get the only autograph of the night. She’s about five years old. She’s standing over to the side, holding her dad’s hand and pressed firmly against his leg. I can tell she hates crowds as much as I do. She’s wearing my jersey like a dress. It falls well below her knees. She must wear it a lot because it’s really faded. When I smile at her, she smiles and quickly buries her face in her dad’s leg. Security holds the crowd back as I squat down to talk to her.

“Hey.” I tilt my head to try to see her around her dad’s leg. She peeks out, sees me, and buries her face in his leg again. “Hey, I don’t bite. Well, most of the time anyway.”

I growl a little bit and chomp my teeth. She giggles and looks up at me—still holding onto her dad’s hand for dear life.

“What’s your name? My name’s Seb.” I hold my hand out to her.

“Belle,” she whispers as she puts her tiny hand into mine.

“That’s a pretty name.” I shake her hand gently. “That’s the name of the lady inBeauty and the Beast, right?

She nods her head emphatically.

“Is that your favorite Disney movie?”

She pushes away from her dad’s leg but keeps hold of his hand. “No, I likeFrozenbetter. Do you like Disney movies?”

“I love Disney movies.Aladdinis my favorite, but it’s kind of an old one. Have you seen it?”

Her brow furrows as she tries to remember. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” I say, holding my hand up to Joe. He hands me a Sharpie. “I’ll sign your jersey if you promise you’ll watchAladdin.”

She looks up at her dad—not sure if she can make the promise by herself. He nods and smiles at her. “We can watchAladdin. I like that one, too.”

She looks back at me and holds out her hand. “Deal.”

I shake her hand again. “Turn around. I’ll sign the back. Do you spell your name B-e-l-l-e?”

Her dad says, “Yes,” from above us.

* * *

To Belle -

We made a deal.

Seb Miller #20

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