Page 6 of Bad Ball Hitter
“But you can. My sister’s friend has a list of trusted sitters.” She shakes her head disapprovingly when I look at her. “All you do is work and go home. Rinse and repeat. You never let loose.”
There isn’t any time to “let loose.”
But I don’t expect Chenille to understand. She’s a couple of years younger than me. And as intriguing as bar hopping sounds, I can’t imagine doing it with my responsibilities.
“You know I’m trying to save every penny to buy this place from Mr. Richards when he retires next year. Going out means spending money I should be putting away.”
Chenille turns to me, hands on her hips. “Lila, when’s the last time you let your hair down and had some real fun? You’re only young once, girl.”
“I know, I know. But this salon is my dream. If I lose focus now, it might slip through my fingers. There will be plenty of time for partying after I’m a business owner.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Fine, be boring then! But don’t expect me to bail your workaholic butt out when you’re drowning in dog hair with no social life.”
I splash some water at her playfully. “I think I’ll manage. Now, less nagging, more grooming! We’ve got three more pups on the books today.”
I chuckle as she walks her poodle to the counter. As much as I would love a wild night out, securing my future must take priority. This salon will be mine one day—even if it means a few missed parties along the way. I turn my attention to making the tub sparkle, daydreaming about the day I finally hang my name above the door—Lila’s Paws and Claws.
Chenille returns and leans against the counter, wearing a mischievous grin. “Speaking of social lives, how’s that wild roommate of yours doing? Miranda, right?”
I tense slightly at the mention of her name and shrug nonchalantly. “Oh, you know Miranda. She’s been searching for a rich husband since I met her. Apparently, she finally snagged herself a baseball player.”
“No way! Like, a famous one?” Chenille’s eyes widened with excitement.
“I have no clue; I didn’t ask his name. But yeah, he plays for the Boston Bears.”
“You didn’t ask his name?” Every syllable drips with disbelief.
“You know me, I don’t follow sports.” I try to keep my tone casual, but the mention of players, especially baseball players, makes my stomach flip. I automatically reach for my necklace and worry the silver pendant between my fingers.
Chenille whistles appreciatively. “Damn, that chick doesn’t mess around! I bet she’s already planning the wedding.”
I force a laugh, but it comes out strained. “Knowing Miranda, she’s probably already picked out the diamond ring and reserved the venue since he invited her to the game.” Poor guy. I can’t help but feel sorry for him. He has zero clue what he’s getting himself into.
“He must be serious.” She curses under her breath. “Lucky, bitch.”
I make a noncommittal sound. There was a time when I thought I was lucky. My mind drifts to the silver necklace I’m fiddling with. I should rip it off and toss it in the garbage. It’s what a normal human would’ve done years ago, but I can’t bring myself to do it. This is the last meaningful gift anyone has given me. The last gift he gave me. And as much as I hate him, I can’t let go of the memory. Not entirely.
Chenille’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. “Earth to Lila! You okay? You looked like you were a million miles away.”
I blink, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I got lost in thought for a minute there.”
She eyes me suspiciously but doesn’t push. “Oh, you know what we should do—double date! You, me, Miranda, and her new arm candy. Maybe we’ll run into more of his friends.”
The thought of being in the same room as a baseball player, let alone my roommate’s latest boy toy, makes my skin crawl. I don’t like this. Not at all. I can’t shake the feeling of unease settling in my gut. The past is creeping up on me, no matter how hard I try to outrun it. And with Miranda’s new beau in the picture, I have a sinking suspicion that things are about to get much more complicated.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. I’m not really in the dating mood these days.”
Chenille sighs dramatically as the bell above the door jingles. “You’re never in the dating mood, but I’m not taking no for an answer. Not this time. You’re blowing off those cobwebs and getting yourself back out there. Your vagina needs a good memory boost—aka dick.”
“My vagina is just fine! Spectacular even!” My voice carries a little too loud, as evidenced by the amused cough. “Please don’t tell me that’s Mr. Brinkley.”
Chenille’s shoulders shake with laughter, and I want to sink to the floor. The little traitor isn’t even trying to hide it. “Yep, and your number one fan looks intrigued.”
“Oh, God.” Plastering on a smile that I’m sure makes me look like some deranged weirdo, I turn to greet my next customer, Jett Brinkley. Jett is one of my regulars who owns a massive Tibetan Mastiff named Max. It’s the breed I want to own someday if I ever leave the city. “Hello, Mr. Brinkley.”
“Lila, I think you can call me Jett by now.” There’s a smirk on his face, along with a slight tease in his voice. But then his eyes dip to my spectacular crotch. He seems to realize what he has done and rights himself. Giving his head a slight shake, he beams at me. “How’s my favorite groomer doing today?”
“Favorite groomer, huh?” Chenille chimes in, tone teasing.