Harper was innocent and my arrogance caused me to treat her like she was just another one ofhisone-night stands. I was so heated, so hurt—it was always him wasn’t it?
“We’re playing Detroit, the team we played opening day. Think you got this? You’ll start the same position.”
“I’m in.” It was less than forty-eight hours away and if I helped them win it, the deal they struck with Troy would be done. “What happens then?”
“If you win that game with us?” Simon shrugged and they exchanged glances. “How do you feel about playing full time?”
“We'll need to approach this with Coach and the GM carefully,” Ryan added.
I ignored the bubbling in my stomach. “Sounds like you two already thought this through.”
“Maybe. Something you be interested in?”
I shook my head. “This isn’t my thing. I love the game, always did. But this is Troy’s. All the way.”
That was our unspoken agreement two years ago.
I had my career.
Sure, it made me angry most of the time and I lived on the edge of my seat on the stock market and looked twenty-nine when I was only twenty three.
You’ve got a skill, Hartman. You’re calculating. You’re precise. It’s kind of incredible. You’re built for pros. You’re not built for Wall Street.
I laughed. “I’ll play Friday's game with you guys. We’re going to take those guys down. After that, I need to leave it up to Troy. That was the deal.” I slid out of the booth. “Thanks for the beers.”
They nodded. “See you Friday, man.”
I turned and walked out of the bar – to my empty apartment. Where I’d been doing nothing but missing Harper in it. Silently waiting at midnight for her to knock on my door or find her sleeping soundly on my sofa.
She should be with me.
And something told me I lost my claim to her on that ride home on Sunday.
God, I hated Halloween.
“What’s been going on with you and Frankie?” Nic asked on Thursday morning after Frankie—for the fourth time that week—walked right past us and howled at Nic to bring his coffee and bear claw to the office.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lied.
“He’s avoiding you. What’s going on?”
“I didn’t give him my sketches to share with the editors.
“Why not? Babe, I mean I love working’ with you, but you don’t belong here. You belong upstairs behind the drawing board.”
I scoffed. “Thanks, but I’m passing on this one.”
“Why?”
“I’m not really feeling these.” I scrubbed the shiny counter, avoiding Nic breathing down my shoulder.
“It’s because of August, isn’t it?” she hissed as if anyone was within earshot.
“I’m not going to make these guys my livelihood. They are not going to be the reason I make it up there.”
“You idiot. They’re not. You’re successful in spite of them. Both of them. Honestly, I don’t know how you tell them apart, they’re identical.”
How could everyone be so blind?
