Page 43 of Truth or Tequila (Grand Slam 1)

Chapter Seventeen

sophie

Ray smiles at me as I slide into the chair next to him in the press box. “I saw you playing catch with Seb this afternoon. I’ve never seen him do that with anyone except kids.”

“Well, I catch like a kid, so that’s probably why he did it.”

“Yeah,” he says, raising his eyebrows, “that’s probably why. I can’t think of any other possible reason.”

I ignore him. “Hey, I need to go off-the-record with you again.”

He sighs. “That seems to be where we’re living, Sophia. You know I literally get paid for putting things on-the-record.”

“I know, but I’m not there yet.”

He shakes his head. “Fine.”

“I need to hear you say it—that we’re off-the-record,” I whisper.

“I’ve been doing this job for three decades. I’m not some damn hack. When you say off-the-record, it’s vaulted.”

I nod. “Seb was the one who asked that Liza be removed from the clubhouse.”

He looks at me for a second and then turns his attention back to the field. “Yeah, I figured. He’s the only one with enough clout to get it done.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ken, and the entire PR staff, worship the ground that Seb walks on. They’d do anything for him even if it meant getting some flack for it. Anyone would do anything for Seb. He’s a good guy.”

“If he’s such a good guy, why’d he ask for her to be removed?”

Ray marks another out on his scorecard. “I don’t know,” he says, looking back at me, “but I don’t think it’s anything major. She probably wrote something questionable about him.”

“I’ve read everything she’s written in the last few years. There’s nothing questionable. She’s a solid writer.”

“Yeah, she can put a sentence together,” he says, “but her ethics are a little questionable.”

“How?”

“Well, she got fired from the paper around the same time this all started bubbling up.” He peers over the top of his glasses at me for a second before he continues. “I’ve never known exactly why she got fired, but I have some ideas.”

“You think she slept with Seb?”

“What?” he laughs. “No. That did not happen. I’ve seen who Seb dates. You’re more his type than she is.”

I frown at him. “Meaning?”

“Seb doesn’t like the skinny, boney type. He likes a little heft.”

I choke on the water I’m drinking. “Did you just call me hefty?”

“I absolutely did not.” He holds his hands up and leans back away from me. “Not the best choice of words—”

“Ya think?” I say, rolling my eyes. “Good thing you don’t get paid for anything that involves word choice.”

“I meant,” he says, still laughing, “that you’re, uh, how do I say this and keep it PC? Uh, you’re put together nicely.”

“Still not strictly PC, but right back at you, Ray. Don’t think the ladies aren’t looking when you walk away.”

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