Looks like the women he sleeps with aren’t the only ones who dabble in drugs.
He’s clearly high and desperate. And while I would love nothing more than to publicly humiliate this man and shred any chance he has of being on the ballot this fall, I am also well-versed in true crime and do not need to be looking over my shoulder for the foreseeable future, waiting for him to jump out from every corner.
Instead, I level him with a glare that should set him on fire as I speak calmly. “Now that you’re done rambling, allow me to inform you of how”—I point between the two of us—“this is going to go.”
His eyes narrow, but I carry on. “You are going to leave me, and the ones I love, alone. You will keep my name out of your mouth and try to salvage whatever votes you think you may have after making a total ass of yourself by publicly declaring that we were still engaged, and in return, I will make sure my brother doesn’t bury you in legal fees and my man doesn’t get his hands around your neck. Sound like a deal?” I add cheerily before standing up and walking straight to the exit.
To no one’s surprise, there is a small crowd of paparazzi waiting out front. God, this is getting old.
And like the show pony he is, Damien steps out right behind me, smiling for the cameras as if we’re walking out together. The camera flashes are incessant, and working in media for the Monarchs, I know how easily it could be to misinterpret a moment captured on film alone. It’s why I love working the Hot Mic’d segment, because it gives my players a chance to show off their personalities and who they really are behind the jerseys.
Which is why I risk my chances at being featured on a murder podcast and take the opportunity that Damien has given me. While he has his back turned to me and is chatting it up with onephotographer about wedding plans with “his lady,” I smile at the cameras myself.
As I lift both of my middle fingers and aim them his way.
forty-six
Fuck, my woman ishot when she’s riled up.
I should be fuming at the picture on my phone, a clear sign that Daisy’s ex ambushed her once again at a dinner that was meant for her to say goodbye to her father once and for all.
But I can’t control the twitch in my pants when I see her petty smile while she flips the bird to that weasel.
I’m still staring at the picture, standing near Daisy’s office waiting for her, when our friends approach me cautiously.
“Okay, so maybe he hasn’t seen it yet?” Nick whispers.
“He has a small smile. Maybe the body is already in his trunk?” Mateo adds.
“I can hear you guys,” I say as I continue to zoom in on Daisy’s smile.
“He seems fine, guys. We’ve all got a job to do, and I need you on the field in thirty, Martinez. You too, Coach,” Luisa says as Isabella giggles beside her.
Daisy interrupts whatever I was about to say as she bulldozes straight into my arms. She backs away before I’m able to wrap myself around her and ask her if she’s okay.
“I know you all saw the photos. Can you believe that I was engaged to that guy? Like seriously.” She fake gags and we all widen our eyes. “Could none of you have staged an intervention or something? I probably would have provided the snacks myself.”
“Well,” Nick hedges. “Some may say we did try to warn you.”
She raises her hand to stop him. “No one likes an ‘I told you so’, bro. So save it.”
“Whoa,” Luisa and Isa say in unison as Mateo stares in astonishment.
“Daisy girl, you good?” I ask in a teasing tone.
Her eyes glare subtly. “Oh yeah, fine and dandy. Anyone else want to ask any more dumb questions, or just my insanely hot boyfriend over here?”
“Uh, Daisy. Maybe we should go up to the suites and cool down for a bit,” Isabella suggests.
But I have other thoughts in mind. Filthy ones, in fact.
“Actually, Daze. Come to think of it, I probably should mention that I forgot to bring the cookies you baked for the players last night. You know, the ones you reminded me repeatedly not to leave behind before I left? Yeah, those.”
She turns slowly in my direction. And if I weren’t so turned on by her attitude, I would be terrified by the look she gives me before she stands face-to-chest with me. “Are you kidding me? Luke! I told you no less than a hundred times that those were my ‘good luck’ cookies for the team. You know how Vega needs his sugar fix before a game to really get him going. Ugh!”
“Okay, Daisy, maybe we should—” I interrupt Luisa because I am far from done with my girl.
“Well, in all honesty, I probably ate most of them before leaving the house. That seems about right. But it’s no big deal. It’s not like baseball players are superstitious about these kinds of things during big games or whatever.”
