We all stand around and wait for our bags to be unloaded, and when I look over at my Escalade, I see what looks like a piece of paper tucked under one of the windshield wipers. I squint, trying to figure out what it is. I’m parked in the player lot, so it better not be a ticket. It’s probably just a dumbass flyer for a strip club or something.
“Hey, I’ll be right back,” I say to Maverick, who’s standing next to me.
I jog over to my car and grab the paper, which actually happens to be two pieces of paper—one is a large folded sheet of paper and the other is a smaller note.
Mr. Morgan, the woman who yelled at you the other day came here looking for you. She asked me to give you this.
Shawn
Oh hell. I can only imagine what the woman who stormed out of the arena a couple days ago wants to say to me. Curiosity gets the better of me, though, so I open the note.
* * *
Dear Mr. Morgan,
I owe you an apology. I came in person to apologize, but the people in the front office said you aren’t here. I asked if I could write you a note, and they’re all looking at me right now like I’m about to do something crazy. I guess I deserve it. My face is probably hanging on a wall in the security room with a warning about not letting me near a player again.
I found out that my sister took my grandma’s ring out of the baseball case before the guy from Vegas Sports Collectors picked it up. I was wrong to assume you had taken it, and to accuse you of lying. I’m sorry.
There’s no excuse for what I did, but I want to explain that the past month has been hard for me. When I blew up at you, it wasn’t really about you. And when I assumed you were lying, that wasn’t really about you, either.
If you ever want to come by Just Brew It, I’d like to apologize in person and buy you a coffee. I don’t mean like I’ll expect you to sit down and drink the coffee with me. You can just take it with you.
Sincerely,
Indie Garrison
I look up from the note and grin. Fate is smiling down on me. Not only did Indie find the ring, now she feels guilty. This is the perfect time for me to sweep in, forgive her, and then bang her into next week.
Kingston picks up his bag and starts walking in my direction. It’s all I can do to keep this information to myself. I have to wait until Indie and I have done the deed. Then I’ll spend a solid week destroying my house. No washing of the dishes or flushing of the toilets. Kingston is going to need a hazmat suit the first time he comes over to clean my house.
“You better get to work,” he quips as he walks past me on the way to his car.
I don’t respond though. It’ll be worth it to see the look of shock on his face when I tell him I won the bet in a matter of a week.
Or maybe a couple. I don’t want to rush it with Indie—I need to play this just right so she doesn’t slip away. Unless she says the only way she can forgive herself for falsely accusing me is by riding my dick like a cowgirl at a rodeo.
She said in her note that the past month has been hard and that she was angry over someone else lying to her. Translation: she was with a man who lied to her and they broke up a month ago. So she’s probably feeling guilty and horny.
Oh, this is going to be good.
Chapter Seven
Indie
* * *
“Mindy, your foam is not quite foamy enough,” Virgil says, looking down at the cappuccino I’m trying to make at the espresso machine. “Let’s go over it again.”
Pro: I’m now learning how to make drinks at work, which is more interesting than just taking orders and operating the cash register. Con: Virgil is the staff member training me, and every critique out of his mouth makes me want to throw my not-quite-foamy-enough foam in his face.
Virgil mansplains the right technique for foam to me one more time, and I finally get it just right. My sprinkles aren’t quite as on point, though, and he shakes his head disdainfully.
“Just…go wipe down the tables near the front windows,” he says. “I’ll work with you some more when we’re not so busy.”
I nod and grab a clean towel from the bucket beneath the main counter, glad to get a break from him. Virgil talks to me using the same tone I use with Nolan when he isn’t listening, and I hate how inferior I allow him to make me feel sometimes.