Page 77 of More Than a Story


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“Hey.” He sounded unhappy.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing?”

“I pitched last night. Daily was up today, but the game ended ten minutes ago.” Definitely grumpy.

“You okay?” she asked.

He sighed. “Just thinking a lot. But, um, I’m hoping to change your mind about canceling tonight.” He cleared his throat. “I actually like that thing you have to do.”

“Diablo?”

“Yeah. Could we do it together?” He was hesitant. Although she wasn’t sure if he was afraid she’d say no or if the locker room and everyone in it made him reluctant to say much.

“You want to play with my niece and nephews?”

“I want to see you.” The hoarse declaration sent a shiver down her spine. “And there’s some stuff we need to talk about.”

Her stomach flipped—there was stuff they needed to talk about. She swallowed.

“I have to sign on with them at six-thirty. Will you be home?”

“I’m about to walk out of the stadium now,” he confirmed.

She smirked as she put her blinker on, changing lanes on the busy city street. “Let me guess, you skipped all the post-game media?”

He chuckled. “Always got to give me a hard time, huh, half-pint?”

“Well, I’m still in midtown traffic, but I should make it by six thirty.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Once again, the deep rumble of promise in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. And the idea that if he found out about the story, that would all go away knotted her stomach.

It took her almost forty minutes to get over the bridge, and she had just merged onto route four when her phone rang. Thank God it was Sean.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Taran, what’s up? I told you I’d get everything done with the contracts for Jessica tomorrow. This stupid ghost blue ceiling paint is taking all day.” A slight huff to his tone implied Erin might be making him crazy with her back porch.

“I’m calling about something else,” Taran said and nervously tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. The stupid emotions creeping up on her the last couple of weeks were messing with her. Her head wasn’t in the game, and she was doing dumb things like sending over the wrong contract and forgetting about plans. But she had it under control. She was fine.

“What’s going on?” Sean’s voice grew serious.

Taran started from the beginning. The accidental email, the conversation with Wayne. Her plan to get Corey out of the contract. Sean was silent through all of it.

“Well, shit, Taran,” Sean finally said. “I’m honestly not sure. That excuse works when a client signed while the agent represented them, and now they don’t think that agent was working in their best interest. This is not that situation. He fired us a couple of weeks before he signed that contract. He knew when he signed it that I wasn’t looking out for any of his interests. SI will jump all over that.”

“So there’s nothing I can do?” Taran’s voice cracked. “Because if I tell Wayne I won’t do it, he’ll find someone else to write that story, and Corey will never forgive that. And Sean, I like him.”

Sean sighed. “Let me look at the contract again. Talk to Mike and Austin. Maybe we can come up with something. But Taran, you’ve got to tell him.”

“I know. I was just hoping for a solution first.”

Sean grunted. “Erin should thank you, because I’m suddenly less annoyed about her porch painting. Why are you always such a pain in the ass?”

Taran forced a chuckle. “That’s just what I’m good at. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Sean hung up just as she pulled into Corey’s building’s parking garage. The security guard was expecting her, so he let her through and gave her a numbered space.

It was only 6:10, so she sat a moment in the car. It wasn’t fair not to tell Corey, but he was leaving tomorrow. And this would mess with his head right when his pitching was doing better. It would be less stressful for him if she had a solution first. Maybe Sean would get back to her with an answer. A way that nobody could write the story. That seemed like a better idea than freaking Corey out. She wished there was an easy answer.

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