Playing Fastball, page 6
“Nope.” Tina turned away from her former foster sister’s haunted gaze. What was she going to tell a woman who’d been raped since she was a tiny girl when she’d only been groped?
The two situations were not comparable.
Besides, Tina would rather ignore it. Sure, she felt like crap, but if she dwelt on it, she’d want to curl up in a tiny box and hide.
“You let Tyson know who attacked you and he’ll keep them away,” Jeanine said. “I can still call the police if you want.”
“We don’t even know who they were,” Tina argued. She would much rather have Lennie deal with it than the cops—who might look at her suspiciously, especially if the last two guys complained about Timmy taking two hundred dollars from them. What if they lied and said she’d mugged them?
“No police, please.” Tina peered up at the woman she’d always admired. “Thanks.”
“No prob,” Jeanine said. “You work for me.”
She picked up a pile of menus from the holder and strode off to greet customers.
Tina took her position behind the bar. It was early afternoon, and there was a birthday party going on in the restaurant side.
An eight-year-old girl was the center of attention as she blew out the candles on a huge chocolate layer cake. Her family and friends sang “Happy Birthday” and showered her with kisses and gifts.
Tina had never had her very own cake before. Never had anyone remember her birthday. Never even acknowledged the day herself.
Birthdays were simply numbers to put on application forms.
She averted her gaze as the little girl’s mother hugged her.
Tina’s mother had once hugged her, too. Told her someday she’d be a star. That when she won the lottery, she’d bake Tina a big ol’ cake. They’d have candles, streamers, and party favors.
And a special cake with her name on it.
Then her mother would get high and forget, and Tina would hide in her closet, while her mother’s friends had their own parties—shooting up and having sex—leaving bodies sprawled over every surface and a mess of smoke, needles, and spilled drinks.
Once, her mother had actually made a cake. Tina was so excited. She’d watched as her mother flipped it out of the cake pan. It was dark chocolate.
Tina wanted her name on the cake, but her mother had said the cake needed to cool.
Tina imagined her mother frosting the cake and then taking one of those squeeze tubes and piping her name on it. It was her eighth birthday, and the way her mother had hummed and primped while getting ready, she was sure there would be a party.
Before the cake cooled, her mother’s gang showed up, and Tina was shoved into the closet. There was a party all right—a wild drug party, and the cake was devoured like a pack of wolves had attacked a fat, little pony.
“Tina, you okay?” a man’s voice dragged her to the present day.
It was Timmy, sitting on a barstool in front of her.
“Yeah, thanks for the ride.”
“Your lip’s still swollen. Does it hurt?”
“Only if I bite it. What will you have?”
“Mineral water,” he said. “I just want to talk.”
“What about?” Tina took a cold bottle of water from the fridge and opened the top.
Was he looking for some sort of payback now that he’d rescued her from the creeps? More likely, he wanted his two hundred back. Tina didn’t believe the story about the drunks paying him to delete the pictures. They were too far out of it and had taken off too fast.
“Just wondering how you’re feeling.”
Violated. Not there. Pretend it was nothing.
“I’m fine.” Tina grabbed a towel and wiped the bar, even though it was perfectly clean. “What do you want?”
He sat there, sipping the mineral water. “Just want to talk.”
Time to cut the crap. There was no way a guy like Timmy was interested in what she had to say.
“If you want me to go on a fake date with you, then say when and where and in front of who. You’ve obviously got some kind of bet going on with your buddies. What is it? Take out an inmate day?”
“Dynamite!” Timmy grinned. “You want to go on a date with me?”
“I didn’t say I wanted it, but you’re obviously angling for some kind of payback.”
“Coolio. Then, how about tonight after the game at my house?”
If she didn’t have an entire bar between his shin and her foot, she would have kicked him.
“I’m not going to your house, and I’m not sleeping with you. Has to be in public, and you don’t get to do anything except hold my hand or put your arm around me. And it’s only to get you to stop bugging me. I’ll even take a selfie with you, so you can win your bet and leave me alone.”
“Okay.” Timmy nodded, over eager. “Okay. Sure. How about right here? Tonight? On The Pitcher’s Mound.”
Groan. The Pitcher’s Mound was a gazebo set in the center of the restaurant area. Its four corner booths were aptly named, Home Plate, First Base, Second Base, and Third Base.
Those bases were regular booths, out in the open, but the gazebo, or Pitcher’s Mound, had curtains draped over the openings and provided privacy for an intimate dining experience amidst the loud noise of the bar and grill.
It was said to be the place guys went for that first kiss if they were nice or a hand between the thighs if they were naughty.
Not that she’d allow him to kiss her or slide his hand …
She swallowed as a tight feeling tingled inside of her.
She’d seen Timmy in action while she bartended.
Who could ignore the pretty boy face over an athlete’s body?
“Uh, Tina?” Again, his voice intruded. “Is that a yes? Are you free tonight or do you have to work?”
“I’m here early because Lisa asked me to swap with her. So, yes, I’m free tonight.”
“You’ll dance with me, right?”
Tina nodded, surprised that she was smiling. “Yes, I’ll dance with you, but no kissing.”
“I agree. That kind of stuff should be private.” He finished his mineral water and put a twenty on the counter. “What time should I pick you up?”
Tina wanted to spare him a look at her apartment, but she needed to go home in between to take care of Donut.
“Eight will work.”
“Eight it is.” He flashed his trademark heartbreaker smile—the one she’d seen him use to pick up the “chicks” he was always bragging about, and then swaggered away without waiting for the change.
Tina’s gaze lingered on his fine ass and broad shoulders, picturing him in his baseball pants. She couldn’t help sighing as she put the bill into the cash register and pocketed the change.
The guy was up to something, and she’d bet this “date” was some scheme of his. Had to be.
But what was the big deal about betting his teammates he could get a date with the town loser?
“Who was that dude?” Lennie strode up to the bar and leaned over it as if he owned it.
“Just a baseball player.”
Lennie cracked his knuckles. “Was he one of the guys bothering you?”
“No, he’s one of the good guys. I think.”
“Gave you a big tip.” Lennie’s eyebrows waggled. “I’ll tell you what.”
“What?” Tina glanced at the party where the birthday girl was now opening presents and squealing with delight at an American Girl doll, one Tina had never gotten because they were too expensive.
“I’ll find out what that guy’s up to. Sneaky-looking bastard.”
“What makes you think he’s up to something?” Tina tried to look nonchalant. “He wants to take me out.”
“You?” Lennie sneered. “When he could have any hottie he wants?”
“Yes, me.” Tina straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Maybe he thinks I’m hot.”
Lennie grinned and rubbed his palms together. “Good. He’s loaded too. Did you see the red Viper he drives?”
“Been in it,” Tina said.
“This is getting even better. Have you been to his house?”
“As a matter of fact, I know it quite well. He has a huge mansion overlooking the Camelback Mountains.” She couldn’t help looking down on Lennie. It felt good to make him envious. She’d bet Lennie’s plan to go after rich women hadn’t landed him anything but washed-up cougars.
“Keep your eyes open.” Lennie’s own eyes were glinting. “If you see anything good, you know what to do.”
Tina’s breath hitched and her fingers itched. Timmy and Yan did have priceless antiques, including an ancient Chinese coin collection, jade carvings, and other valuables lying around their house.
But oh, she was rehabilitated, and she could never steal from her friends.
“I’m not that way anymore,” Tina said. “I never want to go back to prison again.”
“Me either,” Lennie said. “I’m not going to get caught, and if you’re smart, you won’t either.”
TEN
Tina smoothed makeup over the worst of her bruises. She was an expert at covering up purple marks. Now that she was working at the sports bar, she’d even covered up the tattoos crawling up her hands and arms—the ones that surrounded a web of scars, cut marks and round cigarette burns.
She’d also let the worst of her piercings close up and covered the tiny dimples with makeup. If she was going to make an honest living, she couldn’t scare away the customers. Besides, she didn’t want to be reminded of the motorcycle gang where everyone was obsessed with ink and piercings.
She let her limp, straight hair down and frowned. She looked too wholesome, like she’d stepped out of a Wonder Bread commercial. Too girly.
She wiped off the eyeliner.
This wasn’t anything but a payback “date.”
Timmy didn’t like her one bit, but for whatever reason, he wanted to be “seen” with her.
Stupid man.
She’d seen him with women who looked like models. Seen him walk out with more than one. Back in his rookie year, he was a wild man. His teammates had nicknamed him Wildcard, and they’d place bets on which woman he’d pick up.
And he’d always scored.
Tina blotted off her lipstick. Nope, she wasn’t going to make herself all glittery and pretty for a man way out of her league just to be laughed at.
She jerked away from the mirror. She hated looking at herself anyway, and this wasn’t a real date—just something to check off.
Timmy had done her a favor, and she owed him one.
Little Donut whined from beneath her feet, and she scooped him up, petting him. He was slowly learning his way around the apartment. Mostly, he hugged the walls and stayed near her. He was so tiny, it was hard for him to scramble onto the single mattress she had on the floor, biting the sheets and crawling like he was trying to swim his way on.
Tina placed his water and food bowl near the wall away from the radiator, then holding and guiding him, she helped him practice going from his food and water to the newspaper area in the kitchen and then along the wall to the mattress.
“I don’t want you to have to hide in your cage all the time,” she said. “See? It’s not so scary.”
She let go of him, and he bumped his way along, using his nose to sniff his trail. When he finally got to the mattress, he backed up a little, then wagging his tail, he barked and reared himself up.
With a running start he leaped and his front legs launched over the edge of the mattress. A few tugs and wiggles, and he was on.
“Yay!” Tina clapped, cheering on his efforts. “You did it. Now let’s see you go back to the food bowl.”
She dangled a doggy biscuit in her hand and waved it in front of his nose.
“Arf, arf,” he barked, following happily, led by his nose. When he reached the food bowl, she rewarded him with the biscuit, then watched proudly as he gobbled it up, drank from the water, and wandered toward the newspaper area.
Someone knocked on the door.
Tina checked her watch, and her heart fluttered. Timmy was early—if it was Timmy.
“Who is it?” Tina asked before opening the door. She should ask her landlady for a peephole, but then, she wasn’t planning on staying too long. If she could save up enough money, she wanted to rent a real apartment—maybe find a roommate so she could share costs, as if anyone would want an ex-con as a roommate.
“Tim Li,” Timmy said.
A weight lifted off her chest, and she opened the door.
“Hey,” she said. “You’re early. Come on in.”
He stepped in and stopped in front of Donut’s cage. “Did you trap an animal or something?”
“No, actually, someone left a puppy on my doorstep. Can you believe it?” She found herself smiling. “And there he is.”
Groan. Why was she so chirpy? Acting like a game show hostess or a silly cheerleader on her way to the prom—another activity she was never a part of.
Donut wagged his tail, moving his head from side to side. He took two steps toward the direction of her voice and bumped into the table leg.
“What’s wrong with him?” Timmy squatted on the floor and held his hand out for the dog to sniff.
His little, pink tongue licked Timmy’s fingers.
“Blind,” Tina said. “Partially deaf. He seems to hear some sound, but I’m not sure if he can hear clearly.”
“Oh, wow.” Timmy tickled the tiny puppy under his chin. “You’re really cute.”
Tina felt a surge of pride at how easily Donut took to Timmy. He wiggled up to him and crawled under his big palm, rubbing every part of his body against Timmy’s hand and wagging his thin tail a mile a minute.
“He’s really sweet and affectionate,” Tina said. “I named him Donut.”
“Hey, Donut.” Timmy picked up the puppy and stood. “Wonder why they left him with you instead of the rescue center.”
“He’s a special needs dog,” Tina said. “Hard to adopt out.”
“He’s so tiny. I bet he fits in a teacup.” Timmy held the puppy close to his face and let him lick his chin. “You keeping him?”
“I’d like to keep him,” Tina said. “Except I hate leaving him alone when I work. He’s always crying.”
“I’ll bet. He can’t see, can’t hear well. Bet it’s scary being left alone.” Timmy’s voice was deep, calming, and soothing. “Bet you want a friend, don’t you?”
The puppy wiggled harder and squirmed, eager to cuddle against Timmy’s body.
Somehow, it made Tina want to cuddle up against him, too.
She caught herself and turned away. “Before I forget. I really shouldn’t take the money you gave me last night. I’m sure they didn’t pay you to delete any pictures. You wanted to give me the money. Why?”
“Wanted to see if you’d take it.”
“Is this some kind of test?” It physically hurt to force her hand into her wallet and take out the money and hand it to him.
“Maybe.” He let Donut sniff the crisp bills before shoving the money into his pocket. “Are we ready to go?”
“Uh, yes, let me make sure Donut’s comfortable. I have to fill his hot water bottle.” The pain of giving up the cash made her turn away. She wasn’t for sale, but at the same time, she could have used the money for Donut’s veterinarian checkup.
Timmy followed her into the small kitchen area, which consisted of a utility sink and a countertop with hotplates in lieu of a real stove. Seeing her living conditions from his eyes made her cringe. She should have agreed to meet him somewhere neutral. All this shabbiness was too much of a reminder of how different they were.
She should slap herself. This was not a real date.
Tina wrapped a towel around the hot water bottle and placed it on the mattress near her pillow. “Here you go, little guy.” To Timmy, she said, “At least he’s not huddling in the cage. Yesterday, he wouldn’t stop crying until I put him back in his cage. Guess he feels safe in there.”
Timmy held Donut in the crook of his beefy arm. “No cage for you, little guy. Let’s take him with us.”
“They don’t allow dogs at The Hot Corner,” Tina said.
“I’ve changed my mind. The Pitcher’s Mound is too cheesy, and it’s not that private. Guys take their dates there to feel them up.”
Right, and being enclosed meant the team gossipers might not see him with her for his “Date a Criminal” dare.
“Oh … So, what did you have in mind?” Her voice hitched while her heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to speed up or slow down.
“Drive-in. The new Tomb Raider’s playing. I know of a place that still has waitresses in roller skates, an arcade, soda fountain, the whole shebang,” Timmy said. “Just like in the movies.”
“We’re taking Donut with us?”
Timmy lifted the tiny, blind dog and kissed him on the nose. “He’s the perfect chaperone. Blind and partially deaf.”
Timmy tried to keep a straight face at the shock, or was it awe, but hopefully not dismay flying across Tina’s face.
“Isn’t a drive-in kind of private?” she asked.
Was she worried about being alone with him?
Humpf. Timmy wasn’t that type of man. He’d had the upbringing of a good mother and a strict father.
“Not much is going to happen in a two-seater with a console and Donut between us.” He flashed her his heartbreaker’s grin and was gratified to see her blush. So, she was attracted to him. For a moment there, he wondered which team she batted for.
He’d seen her looking up to Jeanine with a gaze full of hero worship, but when Jeanine had dismissed her, she’d put on her armor and gave her a disdainful sneer—behind her back, of course.
She was what people in the movie Aladdin called a street urchin. She’d gone to jail for theft and lying to the police, and she’d allied herself with a couple of bad motorcycle gang members. She was also getting too close to his father—which was why Timmy had to take her out of the picture.
“Maybe I won’t be safe with you,” he said, shrugging like he didn’t care. “Aren’t you the badass who went to prison?”
