Georgie squeezed my hand, glanced at my profile, and said, “I…I’m going to say yes.”
“You are?” My skin electrified and my hairs stood on the ends. I stilled and rationalized instantly that this was about the money we'd discussed. It had to be, as she didn’t believe in love.
Money was the root of everything, so I shouldn’t be surprised, even if coldness hit the back of my neck at the thought. I probably shouldn’t be excited about the future if this was just about money and security.
Georgie said as I opened the door for the players, “Yeah. I think we should take the next step and make it official.”
I almost closed the door on the reporters, but the woman from earlier asked, “So, no more prostitutes, Michael?”
“Absolutely not,” I said. No one had ever believed I hadn’t touched that woman. I didn’t care, except I didn’t want that discussion near Jeremy or to rehash it with Georgie. I waved as the door closed, “We have to get going.”
Jeremy asked me as we strolled through the locker room, “What were they talking about, Michael?”
I grabbed a Sooner’s hat for my son and pushed his hair behind his ear as I said. “Nothing that matters. Sometimes people make up stories to help themselves feel better, and it’s important to not always listen to the news about me. You and your mom need to trust me.”
“Okay,” he said while I gloved him up with a professional version he could keep. “In school, Bobby once said I ate black beans because I loved farting. Everyone laughed at me.”
I patted his shoulder and said, “Exactly the same.”
He nodded at me. As I tightened the license, I met his mother’s gaze and said, “I’ll get you a ring, Georgie.”
“I don’t need one,” she said fast.
For better or worse, they were mine. And, no one was going to interfere with that, but as I stood, I patted her backside and said, “After the game, we need to talk.”
She nodded like she agreed but then went with her son to meet the other kids. I motioned to my manager and he gave me a thumbs-up.
This was for publicity and to show I was a dedicated family man. Using my son’s team to earn myself $30 million a year was fine. It had to be.
Georgie and I were taking the money and that didn’t include real love, just the kind we talk about on TV when others are watching, at least for her. One day, I might tell her she was always the one for me, when she might believe that love doesn’t destroy her voice and we’d be fine.
Today was not that day.
Chapter 7
Georgie
The game went on and on.
He wore his sexy gray pants that showed off his ass on the field, which kept me from paying any attention to the game at all.
I kept my head high, but during the fifth inning, Michael rushed over to me and my heart pitter-pattered like I was a little kid about to get a present.
He grabbed my arm and said, “I’ve been thinking about our son’s game while I've been playing.”
“Seriously?”
“We need to get Jeremy a haircut.”
Okay, so that wasn’t exactly romantic, but I tilted my head and asked, “Why?”
He ran his hand through Jeremy’s hair and said, “He can’t see from the locks you have on the side. That is why he is having problems catching the ball.”
I glanced down at my son’s dirty blonde hair. “His cute, angelic locks that he wanted.”
Jeremy picked at his locks the way Michael played with his own tiny piece of hair and said, “Up to him, but if he wants to catch and throw correctly, we’ll need to shave that off. He needs to see.”
“I want to if it helps.”
“Okay,” My heart thudded. On the field, he thought about us and Jeremy’s needs. Part of me was flattered.
My son’s eyes had tears that washed down his upturned cheeks and a glow I’d not seen in him before.
Guess they’d talked about it. My mind had been in a cloud for hours now. After saying I’d marry Michael, I’d been dazed, but I was just now focusing.
Michael jogged back to his dugout, and I returned my attention to my son, his team, their parents, and tried to sip my soda.
A minute later, Deena fluffed her curly black hair behind her head. My nose almost winced from the perfume she exuded. I ignored the fact that her hair didn’t quite blow despite the wind. She gave me a once over, held a hot dog, then said like we were friends, “Georgiana, this is lovely what you’ve done for the boys.”
I put my drink down into the holder and stood as Michael was retaking the field. He was shortstop, so he wasn’t near me, but it was weird for the kids around me that seemed torn to not be rooting for the home team, but none of them said anything to me as I just said, “I didn’t do anything special. Michael invited us all.”
Jeremy screamed like he’d woken up Christmas morning when Michael caught the ball.
Michael fist pumped the pitcher near him.
Deena bit into her hot dog and finished chewing while staying near me, like she was one of my sisters. As she finished, she said, “So you’ve been dating a baseball player for years. No wonder we couldn’t set you up with Andrew.”
Right. Andrew, the widower with five small children and a bald head, who hadn’t been looking for a wife so much as a babysitter to relieve him of duty. Deena’s set up had been an horrendous mistake, and I avoided discussing dating with her, but now I said only, “Michael’s…well, Michael’s pretty special to me.”
Deena finished her hot dog then said, “If you’re looking to be more involved at school, you have our vote.”
My heart raced a little
