A couple of paparazzi come out of nowhere and start taking my picture as I search for the Uber. Fuck! A hat, or a hoodie would be good right about now. As always, the paparazzi is peppering me with invasive questions that I try to ignore but the situation is unfolding at a rapid pace.

This is not good. Not good at all.

There’s no way these pictures won’t make it to all the gossip websites, and once they realize that I am wearing the same clothes as the previous night, they’ll know I spent the night at Ana’s.

I hope she doesn’t tell them anything.

I glance back to look at her house. To my surprise, she’s standing at the window with a smile on her face and waves a little goodbye to me. Fuck. I should’ve known. These empty-headed models will do anything for publicity.

I came across the ocean and conceded to play in the American League in order to get away from the constant media scrutiny back home. To avoid the constant attention in the celebrity-rich surroundings of L.A. It turns out that Americans love their sports and they love their superstars. Until they take them down.

So far, nothing has gone according to plan. I can already see a shitstorm coming my way.

Chapter 79

Carrie

Even though I saw it coming, the disappointment feels much harsher than I anticipated. The words ring in my head with that gloomy shadow of an echo in my mind. “Sorry, Ms. Tucker, but I’m afraid we are going to have to reject your loan application.”

It’s the third rejection in a row.

I’m just glad I didn’t tell my mother about it at all — she’d take the rejection even worse. As an online content writer for the once reputed Coyote magazine, I’m not exactly making bank. Once rent, groceries and the money I spend on daily stuff is covered, I’ve got barely anything left over in terms of savings.

When mom told me six months ago that the sports bar my father left us was making steady losses for a few years, I was left with no choice but to apply for bank loans in a last ditch effort to save Stats. Dad ran it all his life. I can’t help but smile as I think of my dad standing be

hind the counter, serving drinks to people. All of them knew him as ‘Stats,’ for his ability to recite the rarest of baseball statistics from memory.

A memory that’ll soon become history unless I can come up with a solution. My mother’s been a strong woman all her life but since Dad died, she’s become a shadow of the woman she was. Bert was her strength. Though she tries not to show it, Mom is lost without him. The troubles with the bar haven’t made things any easier.

Anyway that’s why I’m applying for bank loans. Except my credit score isn’t something to be proud of and combined with the fact that I’m a young, struggling writer, the banks don't like me. Not for a personal loan. There’s just one application still left open and all my hopes are riding on it. Other than that, I have no idea how to go about saving Stats, apart from succumbing to Mom’s idea of selling the bar.

“Carrie!” A woman’s voice calls out and I turn to see Lillian, my colleague, walking toward me.

“Hey Lillian. What’cha doing here? I’d’ve thought you’d be at work.”

“Walking to work just like you. Fine sunny day for that isn’t it?” She beams, shifting the big bouquet of flowers she’s carrying to the other side of her body.

“You sure look cheerful today, what’s with the bouquet?”

“Oh well! Just my 30th wedding anniversary today, that’s all,” Lillian is grinning like a teenager in love.

“Oh my! Congratulations. That’s quite a milestone!”

“Isn’t it? I swear I never thought we would last this long but my Bobby, he’s some fella. Surprised me with a fancy breakfast and this huge bouquet here this morning,” She smiles.

“That’s amazing. He sounds charming,”

“As charming as a mule,” Lillian laughs, “but he knows when to do the right things. I guess that’s what kept me around all these years,”

A content smile on Lillian’s face makes me wonder how it would feel to have such companionship in my life. I’ve never been in love and keep dating all the wrong men. Is Max also one of them? I wonder as the events of last night come back in her head. The image of me fainting flashes before my eyes. A strong set of hands stop me from falling completely and hitting the floor. And I didn’t even get a chance to thank him.

“So anyways, how was the bachelor auction last night? Did you bid on a sexy stranger?” Lillian winks. I was kinda hoping she wouldn’t ask. No one at work knows that our boss, Max, took me to the charity bowl except Lillian, who’s his secretary.

“You kidding me? I don’t have that kind of money! But otherwise it was nice. Pretty fancy!”

The blonde woman. The revelation, the shock—all of it is coming back to haunt me. After I recovered consciousness from the fainting spell, Max was gone — nowhere to be seen. I don’t even remember how I got home but I spent half the night wondering whether it was true. Is Katherine really Max’s future wife? Was I just a plaything for him while his girlfriend was away? If so, I’m disgusted. But I can’t deny that the way Max looks at me, the way he speaks to me, all point toward him being an honest man. Max wouldn’t do that to me. I know it, I keep telling herself.

I’m not sure what’s going on but I want to get to the bottom of it. But I’m certain that Max didn’t lie. He couldn’t have.

Tags: Jess Bentley Erotic
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