6
“What’s up?” Corey asked as soon as his truck connected Sean’s call.
“You got plans today?” his agent asked.
It was an off day for the team, and Corey wouldn’t pitch again for another five. But during the season, it was rare for him to be completely free.
“On my way in to throw a few now, then full team meeting at two thirty. Should be done around four, why?” Corey asked. “Wait—you get the contracts from Sideline?”
The Sideline endorsement deal was a big one. Corey’s biggest to date, and he wanted it locked in.
“No, but they should be in soon.” Sean didn’t add anything, and Corey tensed, guessing what this call might be about.
“If this is about the award show, it’s not until September. I already told you I’d think about it.” Corey cracked his neck and ran his hand along the rough hair on his jaw.
“I know you don’t like to drag out your parents’ drama, but a lifetime achievement award at the Tonys is a huge deal. Your mother isn’t around to accept it, so they would really like you to do it.”
“I’m well aware.” Corey’s jaw ached, and he worked to stop gritting his teeth. From the day he was born to the world-renowned pitcher and the superstar, he’d dealt with their drama. His life front page news. His parents’ toxic relationship had been like crack to the press, so Corey’d had to live out the drama both at home and on the front page of every magazine most of his life. It had been a relief when both of his parents died. His dad died from a heart attack five years ago, his mother from liver failure only two. Although it made him a crappy son, his life was easier now that they were gone. And it made boundaries with the press a lot more doable.
“Look, I know you don’t want drama, but with Beth and Mel both in good places—”
“Stop,” Corey interrupted, his hands gripping the wheel. “I said I’d think about accepting my mother’s award in her place. I said I’d consider making an appearance at Mel’s wedding. And Beth is perfectly settled. So there is no reason to drag her into anything.”
“Right,” Sean said quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply.” He sighed, and Corey relaxed, knowing Sean was stepping back. “I actually called because the wife’s having some people over for a barbeque-type thing tonight. Interested?”
Corey opened his mouth but wasn’t sure how to respond. It wasn’t just the abrupt change in topics that threw him. He and Sean got along—well enough. But they didn’t talk outside of work, so Corey had to double check.
“You’re inviting me over—to your place?” He hadn’t meant for it to sound like it was an asinine request, but shit—he’d never been to Sean’s house. Sean and his partner Austin hung out with Beth and Marc a lot, but he hadn’t ever gone with them. “Did Marc ask you to invite me or something?” Corey asked when Sean didn’t respond. He knew he’d been off lately, and the Evanses had all been worried, but he didn’t think Marc would talk to Sean about it.
“No—no,” Sean said. His agent was usually one of those silver-tongued guys who could sell a lion a cage, but Sean didn’t sound like himself. And it was making Corey nervous. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, just thought you might.”
Well, shit, it wasn’t that Corey didn’t want to go—he didn’t want Sean to think that.
“I mean.” Corey swallowed. “I guess.”
“Great. Can you grab Taran on the way here?” Sean rushed out.
“Taran?” What the actual fuck? But before he could say more, Sean went on.
“Yeah. I had her car sent here by accident, and my wife is bitching about me going to get her, so since you’re right there anyway…”
Corey sighed.
“I guess.” The what the hell didn’t leave his tone, but Sean ignored it.
“Great. See you at five.”
Corey glanced down at his phone to make sure Sean had really hung up. That conversation was completely out of character for his agent. Corey wasn’t sure what was weirder: that Sean had asked him to come hang out or that he asked him to pick up Taran Murphy. Well, at least now Corey could make sure she didn’t write the stupid Clayton blog.
She wouldn’t have told Sean about that conversation, would she? He didn’t think so. She didn’t seem as gossip hungry as some of the press he’d dealt with. But she was bribing him for a story. He couldn’t figure the girl out. However, he had no time to try now because he needed his full focus to be on baseball. He was not messing up his win streak, and he was stiff and still hungover—things his pitching coach would not appreciate. He was about to get chewed out.
Six hours later, he was back over the bridge at the townhouse where he’d started his day, now tasked with picking up Taran. And since he was pounding repeatedly on the door without an answer again, he was certain she hadn’t been told the plan.
The door flung open. “Jeez, give me a freaking minute. They pay you by the hour, right?”
That didn’t seem like a greeting meant for him, yet Taran had disappeared. The door sat halfway open, and an open door seemed like an invitation to enter.
The second he stepped into the room, the smell of something just this side of heaven hit his nose—sweet yet spicy. They were supposed to go to Sean’s for dinner, so he wasn’t sure why she’d be cooking, but if it tasted half as good as it smelled, he’d eat it every day from now until forever.