I blink, rereading the short caption as a sickening sensation tightens my throat. Betrayal and anger corkscrew down my spine as my brain struggles to keep up. I’d thought Tenny was being respectful of my desire to focus on my career. He’d asked to let him know when I was ready for another date, and in the meantime, we’d been publicly bantering while privately getting to know each other via text.
He said he’d wait, didn’t he?
Apparently not.
Apparently, he couldn’t wait to get his lips on this…this Rory.
I can’t believe I fell for his bad-first-dates act. It’s so obvious that he’s as skilled a player off the field as he is on it. If Tenny was able to keepour dateout of the limelight, he’s probably been with double—maybe triple—the number of women he’s been photographed with.
My palm hits my forehead. “I’m so stupid.”
Almost instantly, I mentally correct myself.
No. He’s stupid for thinking he could manipulate you.
With a quick swipe of my thumb, I find Tenny’s social media account and block it. I only hesitate a second before blocking his phone number and deleting our text history. Thank goodness we have tomorrow off before the away games in Atlanta. Knowing I might have to interact with him on Monday makes me want to dry heave, but I remind myself that there are other Waves players I can interview.
When my phone rings in my unyielding vise grip, I jump. Seeing it’s my producer and not the man I very much want to strangle, I take a settling breath and answer.
“Hello, Cecil.”
“I’m bored to tears watching your interview with Shane,” he says in his fake English accent.
I’m not supposed to know it’s fake or that his real name is Kirk Kirklack, not Cecil Sinclair, and that he’s from Nowheresville, America instead of Belgravia. But Amelia is scarily accurate when it comes to digging up dirt in public records. I probably should have had my sister use her research skills on Tenny. That might have saved me from feeling like I was about to lose my dinner into the kitchen sink.
“All the two of you talk about is baseball. It’s incredibly droll.”
I bite my tongue to keep from reminding him—yet again—that our job is to report on baseball. Talking about it is pretty essential.
He sighs dramatically. “What I wouldn’t give for a secret baby or a good, old-fashioned menty-b. No one falls apart like they used to.” He sucks a pensive breath through his teeth. “Maybe you can push the grump angle with Shane? Antagonize him a bit? Really get in there and dig your nails into him. If we’re lucky, he’ll take a swing at you.”
My mouth opens, but no sound escapes.
That is wrong on so…many…levels.
“Oh, what’s this?”
In the background, I hear my voice asking about Tenny’s personal roster.
Cecil chuckles. “Alex, love. This is gold. Why didn’t you show me this earlier?”
My brows pinch, trying to figure out how Cecil is watching my first interview with Tenny when Daphne said she deleted it. Then I remember that we recorded those sessions plugged in—everything would have been uploaded to the servers immediately as opposed to stored on her camera.
“This is what I’ve been looking for.”
The frustration coursing through my veins inhibits my ability to make a rational decision. Instead, I lean into the hurt making my chest ache and say, “Then run it.”
Chapter 19
Tenny
When I stumble into the living room and find Zona on the couch the next morning, a wolfish grin overtakes my face. After leaning down to snatch the last bite of omelet from her plate, I vault myself over the back of the couch, landing beside her.
“Ugh.Why?” My sister sets her empty plate on the end table with an annoyed cluck. “Can’t you let me watch TV in peace?”
“Good morning to you too,” I say, popping the stolen bite in my mouth.
An involuntary groan escapes me as sharp cheddar cheese blends perfectly with the gentle earthiness of sauteed mushrooms and caramelized shallots before finishing with a crisp, chivy finish.
