Page 72 of Truth or Tequila (Grand Slam 1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

sophie

When I get to the stadium, the first thing I do is text Seb.

Just got to the office.

He texts back immediately.

Thanks for texting. I was getting worried. I just got done with warmups. I have a few minutes. Do you want to come down here and entertainme?

* * *

A few minutes??? I thought we talked about that.

From what I saw last night, I think you can do better.

* * *

You’re right. I want to take my time with you.

Are you sure we can’t see each other tonight?

My text pings again. The smile leaves my face immediately when I see the text is from Gentry.

Sophia, please come and see me when you get in. It’s urgent.

I’m working out of my baseball operations office today.

I’m a little leery about meeting with him, but I want to uncover more information on the rumors about him. He’s not all that bright. Maybe if I meet with him alone, he’ll reveal some information to me. And if he tries something, I know I can take him down. He’s not all that strong either.

I text Seb back to tell him we can talk after the game and then head down to Gentry’s office. When I walk in, Liza Murray’s standing by his desk. They’re both smiling at me with their eyes narrow. They look like evil villains about to hatch a dastardly plot.

“What’s up?” I say, making sure to stay near the open office door.

“Have a seat, Sophia.” Gentry waves to the chairs in front of his desk.

“I’m good,” I say, crossing my arms. “I have some work to do before the game. What can I help you with?”

“I think we can help you,” Liza says, grabbing a stack of papers off the desk and offering them to me.

I hesitate. I’m sure I don’t want to see anything that these two have to offer, but my curiosity gets the best of me. I start leafing through them. They look like her bank statements.

“What am I supposed to be seeing here?” I say, looking up at them. Their faces are eager.

Liza takes the statements back and points at a line item on the first page. It’s an automatic deposit for five thousand dollars. I look more closely to see it’s from Sebastian Miller. I stop breathing for a second.

“Okay,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Seb paid you five grand. For what?”

She sorts through the papers—pointing at the different months at the top of each page and a matching deposit from Seb.

“He pays me five thousand every month,” she says, looking from the statements up to me. Her eyes are filled with pity. That pisses me off.

“Why?” She takes a step back when she hears the sharp tone in my voice.

“Why do you think?” She looks at Gentry as she lays the statements on his desk. He’s nodding at her—encouraging her to go on. “I slept with Seb. When the newspaper found out, they fired me for sleeping with a player that I was covering. I threatened to tell everyone that it was the reason I was fired. Seb didn’t want it to get out, so he started paying me. I’m not proud of it, but when the paper fired me, I didn’t have any money saved. I panicked. Seb offered to help me out. I know he only did it to shut me up, but I needed the money.”

My mind’s spinning. I feel like I’m going to faint. I try to keep my voice even. “Was the sex consensual?”

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