And I needed to spend time with a woman who knew me a little better than some of my regulars and some of my fly-by-nights. So I called her yesterday and asked her to come to the game on a whim – completely forgetting that Tommy would be there. I didn’t think that far ahead.
I thought by fawning all over her and faking that fucking meeting on a Sunday to get her alone, that he was just trying to get under my skin, which is his favorite sport. But today, something about the way he looked at her, struck me as weird. She was standing by the cooler, drinking a bottled-water. My baseball hat that she had borrowed, shielded her face from the sun most of the time and her hair was pulled back in a long, low ponytail. But then she bent her head back to drink the last of the water. The sun hit her face and I looked over at him and he was watching her, too. I couldn’t blame him; she’s beautiful. But it was the look I saw on him that floored me. He was in awe and he glanced my way fast, and then looked embarrassed. Tommy NEVER looks embarrassed. He could do the shittiest thing and still look like he meant to do it and ain’t it grand. I’ll be damned if I let that scumbag get his slimy hands on her. I know him too well, and I respect her too much.
I look over at her chatting with Margaret, and she looks happy and animated. The waitress drops off a glass of red for her and an empty pint glass for me.
“The pitcher’s over there.”
“Thanks.” I turn to listen to Rebecca.
“We’re working with girls around the world, helping them sell what they make, from blankets to chocolate through hats. Global Girlfriends empowers them with an online store to sell what they make to the world so they can pull themselves out of poverty. When before they had only a village to sell to, when the rest of that village was usually also poor. With limited funds, you can’t buy what’s being made so it was a vicious circle of poverty that’s now being eradicated by selling their skills on a global scale. It’s incredible!”
Margaret is all ears. “How can I help?”
I kiss her on the shoulder. “Can I interrupt for a second?”
She turns. “Um, hold on Margaret. Yes?” Her eyes are bright and energized by the discussion. She looks happy.
I take her hand and look at her fingers in mine. It’s taking some doing to say this. “Let’s add you as my emergency contact person. I can’t trust Mark for shit anyway. What’s he going to do, sit by my bedside and read to me?” I chuckle.
Her eyebrows go up just a little, but she covers her surprise quickly. I see it, of course. I always see it when she does that. “Okay, good. I’m glad you think that’s a good idea, too. I’ll give you my landline as well, just in case.” She smiles.
I bring her hand up and kiss it. She’s pleased and turns to Margaret again, but the moment definitely distracted her. That felt good to do.
I don’t want to be paranoid. I’m better than that. I want to trust her. She’s earned it.
Chapter Eighteen
Rebecca
Score Card: Me – 10,000. Other women Brendan’s seeing – 0.
Brendan excuses himself to use the bathroom and Margaret and I exchange information, and promise to keep in touch. Before I’ve even had time to soak in that Brendan just made a huge leap, Tommy walks over and slides in next to me. I quickly glance Brendan’s way, certain now is not the time to rock the boat. He’s gone, though.
Tommy might have timed this on purpose, but there’s nothing skeezie about his demeanor. He’s just his usual friendly self, so I relax and smile at him.
“Hey Bec, I just had to tell you, you were great out there today.”
“Thank you. I had to redeem myself for the first round.”
He grins. “Nah. You were just getting warmed up. It’s gotta be rough joining a team you don’t know. But you’ve obviously played recently. You on one in Arizona?”
He knows I live in Arizona?
“A team? No. I told Brendan it was high school, but I think the last time I played was really Junior High. Middle School, I think you guys call it now.”
Tommy laughs and shakes his head, leaning back in the chair. “Oh... like