The Game Changer (The Perfect Game 2)

“Like only send me something if it’s good?” She shrugged.

“Yeah, Kitten. ” I pressed my lips against her forehead. “Tell her to only send the good stuff. ”

When Life Gives You Lemons

Cassie

Not wanting to wake up Jack, I grabbed my things for work as quietly as possible and headed out our front door. Once outside the apartment building, I rushed toward the subway station, noting the time. If I missed my train, I’d have to grab a cab. And grabbing a cab would take forever at this time of the morning.

I passed by a local newsstand as a headline caught my eye: “WELCOME TO THE BIG APPLE, JACK CARTER! GRAB A SEAT AND STAY AWHILE!” Jack had a love-hate relationship with the press. He told me once that the press only likes you when you’re winning. But the second you lose, you’re the first one they blame. It didn’t serve any purpose for him to read the things written about him by strangers, so he never did. He always said that he knew what he needed to improve upon, and he didn’t need it shoved down his throat by some reporter who had no idea what it was like to stand on that mound.

Plus, the bad articles really pissed him off, and he almost punched out a reporter once. One long-winded talk in the manager’s office with the media director present, and Jack vowed to never read any more press about the team again.

Even still, seeing this paper caused my heart to swell in size. His first win for the Mets was printed in black ink, and I wanted to cherish the memory, even if he didn’t. I figured since the article was positive, maybe Jack wouldn’t mind. So, I purchased one copy to read and another to keep.

I ran down the dank subway stairs, my papers clutched firmly in my hand as my train pulled in. The brakes squealed as it came to a complete stop before the doors opened. I hustled through the crowd and into the packed subway car. Not wanting to stand the whole way, I silently thanked God for the empty seat I spotted. Once sitting, I flipped open the paper to the sports section, immediately scanning the article on Jack. After skimming the highlights, I mistakenly decided to flip to the Entertainment & Arts section.

My pride-filled heart suddenly exploded inside my chest, and I almost choked on the air around me when I caught glimpse of a familiar photo. I stared at the larger-than-life picture of me pointing my finger at Jack, my face clearly twisted in anger. I looked furious as Jack simply stood there, dejection written all over his face. My eyes fell to the photo caption where my first name was posted as clear as day. “Mets new golden boy gets reamed by girlfriend Cassie off the field. ”

Shit. How’d they already figure out who I am?

I snapped the paper closed and looked at the people sitting around me. I prayed they hadn’t seen the picture or noticed I was the one in it.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

That stupid picture showed up online last night and now it was printed in the newspaper for everyone to see. I reminded myself that no one actually read printed papers anymore before I realized that the online version would probably include the same articles. Shaking the embarrassment off, I fidgeted in my seat until my stop.

Walking into the office, I tossed my things down on top of my cluttered desk before heading into the small corporate kitchen. The magazine’s senior editor, Nora, flipped through the pages of a newspaper before glancing up at me.

“Morning, Cassie. I see you had quite the night last night. ” Her gray eyes softened as she held the paper up for me to see.

I released a tense breath. “Yeah. It’s not what it looks like. ” I attempted to defend myself, dunking a bag of chai tea into my cup of hot water.

She smiled, her short brown hair perfectly curled. “It never is. ” Her voice soothed my fraying nerves.

“It looks bad though, right? Like I’m crazy angry?”

She glanced back down at the photo. “You look pretty pissed off. ” Her gaze returned to me as I winced. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just one photo and no one will think anything of it. ” She waved a hand in the air, and I wanted to believe her.

“Thanks, Nora. ” I smiled, appreciative for her kind words. I turned to walk out when she called my name.

“Sit with me for a minute. ” She pointed at the chair across from her.

Uh-oh.

My legs started to tremble as anxiety consumed me. That picture could be bad for the magazine, and I doubted they wanted to be associated with any negative publicity. What if she fired me over this?

“Stop looking at me like I stole your cab and sit down. You’re not in trouble. ” I relaxed into the cold chair, still clutching the hot teacup in my hand. “I just wanted to hear about your first Mets game as a player’s girlfriend. ”

A small breath escaped from my lips as I relaxed even further. Nora had been kind to me since the day I started in the office. She complimented my work, encouraged me to learn, and challenged me to grow on a daily basis. I respected her, and I wanted to earn her respect in return.

“So, how was it?” She cocked her head to the side, her eyes locked on to mine.

“It was,” I hesitated, “different than I expected. ”

“Different how?” she asked, before sipping her coffee.

I glanced up at the white ceiling tiles, attempting to formulate my words into cohesive thoughts before answering. “It was amazing watching Jack play again. Nothing in the world compares to how that feels. ” My heart squeezed inside my chest. “But the wives on the team are really mean. Like, none of them would even speak to me, mean. ”