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"As far as I remember, I've always been more than civil with you."
"Even if you don't have a professional bone in your body," she shot back.
"You're right, that was a very professional thing to say." He cocked an eyebrow, and color rose in her high cheekbones.
"Okay, okay, you got me." She shook her head. "It's going to be an adjustment for both of us. So will you just look at the packet?"
He glanced at it. From here, he could already see the names of a few familiar magazines and a few more familiar trainers. Hell, the thing even seemed to be color-coded. She'd clearly put a lot of effort into this. For him.
No, for Andy.
Not that it mattered who. After all, he was looking out for Andy, too.
"I don't think so. I trust you." He shrugged and then sipped his coffee. "We done?"
"Definitely not," she said. "You can't just shrug it off. You need to look over it."
"I don't need to do anything."
"Don't you want to get back in the majors? Don't you—" She stopped suddenly, stared at the coffee and then the cabinet and finally at Matt himself. Her mouth became a very tiny "o" and then split into a wide grin.
"What?" he asked.
"I see what you're doing," she said.
"No, you..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, I'm not doing anything."
"You certainly are. You're throwing this. You're going full on Red Sox." She nodded.
"I'm not going Red Sox," he said. "What a stupid,
dated reference."
"Come on, Matt." Shay leaned back in her chair. "I've known you for as long as I've known your sister. You don't think I know when you're fucking with me?"
"I would hope fucking with you—" he started, trying to steer them back on course, but Shay was determined.
"Knock it off. I see what you're doing. I know you."
"You do not know me. And I'm not doing anything," he repeated.
"Right, right." She rolled her eyes. "So you're going to sit here and tell me that your real-life inclination is not to do everything in your power to get back into the major league? That after all your years of practicing and all your work at the physical therapy center, you're okay with letting go of that dream?"
He eyed her for a moment and then said, "That's not what I'm saying."
"Oh, but it is. You're saying you don't want to know about the press junket. You don't want to take all the steps you need to. You're willing to let it all go."
"Shay," he said, but she shook her head.
"I know you. Know you well enough to know when you're being stupid and prideful. Andy wants you as a client for more reasons than just being your sibling. Do you honestly think I would have signed my reputation to somebody who would take on a pity case?"
"Is that your twisted way of saying you like me?" he asked.
"Only if that's your twisted way of admitting that I'm right." She smiled. "Read the damn packet."
He looked from it to her and back again. If he reached for it, he'd be signing on again—be letting himself up from what could turn out to be the biggest letdown of his career since the accident. But if he didn't at least try...
He couldn't think about the alternative.
