Page 74 of Double Play

“Nothing,” we say in unison because there is nothing going on between us. She said her piece, and while I disagree, I’m honoring it.

Isaiah glares at me long and hard before looking back at his sister who continues to hang her head. He glances back at me and while I don’t want to throw her under a bus, I do want Isaiah to know it wasn’t my decision to hit the brakes.

I point to my chest and slowly shake my head. Not me, man.

At the silent signal, Isaiah scowls, turning toward his sister, who refuses to look at him. After a tense, quiet minute, Isaiah announces, “Okay. Dinner.”

He claps my shoulder and leads me away, with the girls trailing behind us. “What the hell happened?”

“She didn’t want to see me anymore,” I state, verbalizing the truth.

“Is this about the rumors I heard that you might be open to coaching somewhere else?” He glances around my shoulder, and I shush him.

When we finally leave the stadium, Isaiah drives us to a nice restaurant outside the city limits. I’d already told him I didn’t think I had time to visit with his parents. Truthfully, I didn’t want to face Richard Baker, knowing all his infractions against his daughter. Thinking of her, I wonder what she is doing in Vegas.

That information becomes clearer when we finally take a seat in the booth Isaiah requests, placing India and me on a bench seat across from Isaiah and Penn. The nearness to my former best girl causes me to sweat. My fingers twitch, eager to reach for her thigh, resting only inches from mine.

Instead, I clutch at my own leg to keep my hand steady while India mentions seeing her mother earlier in the day.

“You’re still not talking to your dad?” Penn asks.

India shakes her head. She told me how she felt betrayed by her father, that he knew about her husband’s affair, and never mentioned it to her. She even worried her father might have had an affair himself, never revealing the truth to her own mother. She didn’t want to pry, but she also didn’t want to see her mother hurt.

At the mention of the continued stalemate between India and her dad, the longing to reach for her hand and give her a reassuring squeeze grows.

“Okay, let’s not talk about your dad,” Penn counters, glossing over the touchy subject, while waving her hand in the air.

“We have other exciting news.” Isaiah glances at Penn and then between India and me. Whatever he’s about to say must be big because he’s wiggling in his seat like a Jack Russell terrier,

“I’ve been asked to join in a collaborative group to purchase the Vegas Victors.”

“What?” I ask at the same time India shrieks, “Why?”

“The team is still considered new and needs more investors.” Isaiah glances at Penn before looking at India and me once more. “And with my history . . . well, Dad’s history with the team . . . it seems like a good investment.”

The Vegas Victors are hot and young in the big scorebook of the limited league, much like the Tennessee Terrors.

However, I’m still surprised Isaiah would want to invest in them. That Isaiah has the finances to invest in something so large.

“Why Vegas, though?” India asks, her voice hesitant. “You have connections all over the league.” This is a reminder that Isaiah is in sports law and understands athlete management.

“I want Vegas,” Isaiah states definitively, before glancing at Penn once more. “And if all goes through, we’ll be looking for a new head coach or general manager.”

“What?” India whispers, the sound choked and pained.

Isaiah zeroes his happy glance on me.

“Aren’t you calling homerun when it’s really a foul ball?” I scoff, glancing briefly at India and then glare across the table at my best friend. “You haven’t even purchased yet.”

Isaiah continues to watch me. “I was hoping I might be able to add an additional nugget to my offer.” He wiggles his brows.

“So you want to use me?” A sharp edge rips through my voice.

“What’s going on here?” India asks, her voice stronger this time.

With a quick glance at Penn, whose eyes are full of concern, and a gaze at Isaiah, who is smiling like a puppy hanging his head out a car window to catch the breeze, I peer at India.

“I might be putting out feelers for a team swap.” Might is optional. I am putting out feelers.