Page 27
Little shit.
She lights up, accepting his hug. “I watched you pitch today. Great job.”
He grins down at her. “I thought you do not follow baseball?”
“Since I started working for him,” she says with a thumb aimed in my direction, “I thought I probably should know what I’m dealing with.”
He nods sagely. “Daddy likes when you watch him.”
She splutters a laugh. “What?”
“Daddy. That’s what you call him.”
She takes a step backward, right into me. She gasps in surprise and spins to face me. “I’m sorry. That’s not—”
“He’s teasing you,” I tell her, then shove at Yadi without taking my eyes off her. “Go home.”
“But—”
“Goodbye, Yadiel.”
“Goodbye, Yadiel,” he mimics in a low voice.
Not only was I cursed to be traded to this team and city, but also to be followed around by an annoying-as-shit twenty-two-year-old.
“Bye, Yadi,” Millie says with a glance over her shoulder, and his wink at her just about sends me over the edge. I step to the side, moving to push him, but he leaps back, laughing.
Like he proved something.
I heave a sigh and return my attention to Millie, who peers up at me with twitching lips. She enjoyed the show.
“I’m tired.” I open the door to her car so she’ll get in. “Let’s go.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
I close the door on her and her smile before striding around to the passenger side. The seat is still in the position I left it in, and I have the absurd desire to ask her if she dates. If she ever has men in this car.
I set my elbow on the door and scratch at my beard, lasting all of two minutes. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“A boyfriend?” she repeats like she’s never heard the word before. “No.”
“Why do you say it like that? Like it’s stupid I asked.”
“Because I’m a single mom.”
“So?”
“So…I’ve got a ten-year-old child, and I have yet to meet someone who wants a built-in family. Besides, I’m—” She gestures to herself as if it’s answer enough.
It isn’t.
“You’re what?”
“Me.”
Perfect, yeah. But I don’t say that. Instead, my temper gets the best of me. “Has someone said something to you?”
“No.” She glances at me. “Stop making that face. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ve gone on a few dates, but… Dating is hard for me. I have trouble making conversation with them and my anxiety goes through the roof, and I inevitably end up saying something totally inappropriate.”
