Swing (Landry Family 2)
My heart swells as I remember seeing him sitting his tall frame in those little kid’s chairs. I peaked in from across the hall a couple of times and nearly melted into a puddle on the floor.
“There’s nothing like a man with a kid,” Macie sings.
“It wasn’t just that,” I say, trying to find the words to say what I mean. “Yes, seeing him with these little boys was super cute. But it was more than that. It was the way he was with them. With me, he’s funny and sexy and kind of full of himself. But when he’s sitting at this little table, covered in paint, flanked by two kids talking his ear off, you’d have no idea he was a big deal. None at all.”
I’m grinning and I can’t stop it. It was one of the most endearing things I’ve seen in my career. Usually celebrities come in and go through the motions, but Lincoln was more than that. He stayed a long time. He didn’t ask for help. He didn’t look bored or get mad when they had accidents. He seemed to actually enjoy it.
“Is he coming back?” she asks.
I gulp. “Maybe. He left his wallet on my desk.”
“And his wallet was out why?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe he thought he was going to need his ID for the paperwork he was filling out? I don’t know.”
Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth. “Where was it?”
“Behind a picture frame.”
“Huh.” She’s quiet again, which is fine by me because the more I think about it, the harder I find it to breathe. “So he left it for you to find.”
“You think?”
“Of course. A man like him with an unlimited credit card isn’t going to whip it out and leave it sit. I don’t care who he is, Danielle. It’s not going to happen.”
A long sigh escapes my lips.
“What are you sighing about?” she laughs. “You’re going to have to meet Mr. Sexy and give him his wallet back. Poor you.”
“I think I’ll just leave it at the front desk.”
An exasperated breath rumbles through the phone and I brace for the onslaught that’s coming. “Ryan Danielle,” she starts, using my given name for emphasis, “the one thing I don’t like about you, besides your ability to eat shit and not gain a pound, is the way you lump people together. It’s not fair.”
“It may not be fair, but it’s logic.”
“So every guy I dated before Will with green eyes was a monster. What would’ve happened had I not dated him?”
“You would’ve found someone else?” I offer just to irritate her.
She groans.
“Look, Macie. No one knows athletes, baseball players specifically, better than me. They’re a unique bunch full of superstitions and a love of—”
“Baseball before everything else,” she says, finishing my sentence for me. “I’ve heard.”
“This would be so easy if he weren’t so fucking hot,” I groan, picking at a napkin on the table. “It’s like the devil sends me these men just to torture me. What do you think I did in a past life to deserve this?”
“Whatever it was, let’s hope I figure it out and do it in this one.”
Lincoln
Is this how the rest of the world lives?
Sitting on the counter in my kitchen, an apple in my hand, I toss it into the air and catch it. Once, twice, three times. On the fourth catch, I whip it around and throw it at the trash can. Instead of landing in the liner, it hits the wall above. A spray of juice and pulp splatter everywhere.
“And that’s why I don’t play basketball.”
I listen to the clock over the sink tick. How have I just noticed how annoying this is? Hopping off the grey marble, I leap onto the counter and pull it down. The batteries come out with a loud pop.