Grand Slam (The Boys of Summer 3)
“Let me introduce you,” I tell him. He follows me over, and Saylor stands when she sees him.
“Saylor Blackwell, this is Branch Singleton, and for some reason, our GM thinks he needs Jeffrey as an agent, manager, or whatever you guys are calling yourselves these days.”
They shake hands. “Stone is right,” she says. “Let’s talk.”
Before I can even blink my eyes, Saylor and Branch are off in a corner discussing business, and Lucy is preoccupied with Shaun. I’m back to being a loner, and while the thought is slightly depressing, at least I’m doing it in the same vicinity as the two girls I wanted to spend the night with. That makes me feel a little bit better.
I sit down next to Cooper and sigh.
“Dude, you’re banging your agent’s assistant?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
He laughs, and it makes me want to punch him in the junk. “What the fuck ever, dude. It’s written all over your face. If you’re not dipping yet, you will be soon.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’m trying with all my might to keep a straight face, but shit, it’s hard. I want to gossip like a high school girl after her first kiss under the bleachers, but I can’t. The last thing I need is the media running with a story about Saylor and me. She doesn’t need that kind of publicity, and I certainly don’t. Right now, I’m branded a rapist, and for all intents and purposes, she should steer clear of me.
“Whatever you say, man.” Cooper goes back to talking to Ainsley while I sulk. It’s what I’m good at—feeling sorry for myself.
Before I know it, the game is over, and the Bruins have won. There will be a celebration down the street at the local bar where my nightmare began a week ago.
Tonight, I think I’ll walk Saylor and Lucy home and hopefully to their door, where I may be able to steal a good-night kiss from the woman that I desperately want to be with.
A press conference was held today in the pending case against left fielder, Travis Kidd. The state’s attorney said that the results of the rape kit were inconclusive and further testing will be done using the DNA sample that Kidd voluntarily provided.
The members of the media were not allowed to ask questions and were left dumbfounded by the statement. Many of us asked questions anyway, but we were not acknowledged. We would like to know why Kidd hasn’t been cleared if the test is inconclusive. Our legal expert says that the state is likely trying to make an example out of Kidd.
Irvin Abbott, who represents Kidd, stated that he had no comment but promised that justice would prevail. Our calls to Kidd went to voice mail.
On a side note:
We want to let Travis know that everyone at the BoRe Blog believes in him, and when he’s ready, we’re here to tell his side of the story.
The BoRe Blogger
Eighteen
Saylor
The streets of Boston are bustling with holiday shoppers, reminding me that Christmas isn’t that far off, and that means my vacation is coming up. This year, I’m taking time off while Lucy is home on winter vacation for some mother/daughter time. She’s growing so fast that I don’t want to miss these small moments with her, and thankfully my employer is flexible enough to let that happen.
Cinching my coat closer, I try to ward off the wind that is blowing in from the harbor. It’s my dream to one day live in the south, a place where the sunshine brings you warmth almost daily. Deep down, I know I would miss the snow during the holidays, but I wouldn’t miss the cold.
A cab finally pulls up, and I slip inside, giving the driver my destination. Irvin and I are meeting today. It’s been about two weeks since the accusation, and the DA’s office has yet to file any charges. We’re all tired of the cat-and-mouse game that is being played. A man’s life and his career hang in the balance. And while he is far from perfect, he deserves justice.
When I arrive, Travis is outside. I assume he’s waiting for me, but we haven’t really spoken since the hockey game. Honestly, I miss seeing him, and so does Lucy. She asks about him all the time, and I don’t know what to say. I can’t be honest with her and tell her that I chased him off, because she won’t understand.
“Morning,” I say as I walk up the steps. I’m greeted with his panty-dropping smile as he hands me a cup of coffee. My body rejoices at both the needed dose of caffeine and him. It pains me to admit that he’s consumed my every thought for the past couple weeks. “Thank you.”
Travis nods but says nothing as he opens the door to Abbott and Abbott. Inside, the office is warm, and I quickly unbutton my coat and remove my scarf. The receptionist tells us where we’re meeting. Travis follows me to the conference room, shutting the door behind him, blocking us from the people walking up and down the halls.
“I know you’re frustrated,” I start, but close my mouth as he stalks toward me. He takes the paper cup from my hand and sets it on the table, along with my messenger bag. “Travis…”
“I’ve missed you,” he says as his eyes wander from mine to my lips and back again. Or is it my eyes doing the wandering, needing to know where he’s looking?
I pull my lower lip in, biting it with my teeth in order to keep my thoughts bottled up inside. The slight nod is an automatic response and one that can, and likely will, get me into trouble. “I can’t,” I tell him in a whisper.
Those words cause him to step back and move to the other side of the room. He’s not given a chance to say anything, because the door opens, and Irvin, along with his team, comes barging in. They seem to be eager as they take th