Heartthrob Page 3

  “It’s not easy with one hand,” I say with authority. I’m constantly on my phone taking pictures. “How about I do that instead?”

  He grumbles, a few cuss words slipping out of his nice mouth. Finn is over six feet tall and probably tips the scales at two ten, so watching him fight with a small electronic device is entertaining. I chuckle. I get it. I’m not one to ask for help either.

  “Something funny, Blondie?”

  That stops me cold. “You did not just call me that.”

  “Blondie? I did. I could call you Freckles instead.”

  He noticed my freckles? I have exactly five of them across my nose. “Are you being cute with me right now?”

  “You think I’m cute?” A sly smile takes hold of his face, the kind of smile you can’t not be enamored with. The kind that constructs butterflies in your stomach whether you want them there or not.

  “Going by the North American informal definition of cunning in a self-seeking or superficial way, yes.”

  Finn’s eyes light with amusement. “Did you just quote the dictionary to me?”

  “I did. Got a problem with that?” As you might guess, English was and still is my favorite subject. I’m a lover of words. I use them a lot in my profession and have an uncanny memory when it comes to their definitions.

  “No, no problem.” He’s trying really hard not to laugh. “Webster.”

  I throw my hands in the air, even though that nickname I secretly like. “Do you nickname all the strangers you meet?”

  “Just the pretty ones.”

  “Smooth,” I say with a shake of my head. He no doubt compliments every woman he meets. “But overused.” I put out my palm. “Hand over your phone. I’ll take the picture.”

  He looks like he’s ready to yank the sling off his arm and throw it across the parking lot, but instead he gives in to my request. I put the card down on the hood of my car and snap the photo. After checking to make sure it’s a clear shot, I say, “Would you mind letting me know the cost of fixing your car before we go through insurance companies? I may pay out of pocket.” I hate the idea of depleting my savings account, but it might be the better option in the long run.

  “Sure.” His fingers brush mine when I give him his phone back, and a surge of heat charges up my arm. Our eyes lock. Hold. “I should also get your digits then—” he glances down at the photo “—Chloe Conrad.”

  His saying my name shouldn’t make me weak in the knees, but it does. We’re no longer strangers, not that he’ll remember me or give me any thought beyond fixing his car.

  I snag the phone back and type in my number. Then I call myself. My phone rings from the car. “Now I’ve got your number, too.” I never answer my phone if I don’t know who’s calling.

  “Would you like a name to go along with it?”

  “That’s okay.” I hand back the phone.

  His blue eyes dance. “You already know it.”

  “Why would I know it? Are you famous or something?” I turn to go before he can see the truth on my face. “I’ll wait to hear from you and uh, sorry about hitting you. I don’t think I said that.”

  “No worries.”

  I wish. Life isn’t exactly going to plan at the moment. At least my next job assignment should be easy. My boss said it was a perfect fit and I’d get the details on Monday.

  “Oh, and Chloe?”

  I pause before sliding into my car and look at Finn.

  “Nice try.” He tips his head toward my front bumper and winks. Actually winks! Normally I find winking cheesy, but not when Finn does it. His wink is like a calling card for let’s get naked and run our hands and mouths all over each other.

  Then it hits me. My license plate frame. It says Baseball…The Perfect Game. Shit. Can’t a girl catch a single break?

  “See you around, Webster.”

  No, he won’t. Not if I can help it.

  Chapter Three

  #BatterUp

  Finn

  I now understand what people mean when they say they feel an instant connection to someone. I can’t get Chloe Conrad out of my head. The second her big honey-brown eyes met mine I was drawn to her in such a major way, it scared the hell out of me. She was beautiful, yes, but there was something about her that went beyond simple awareness. I liked her and had this instant primordial desire to claim her like I was Tarzan and she was my Jane.

  Insanity is what that was.

  And the reason why I won’t call her. She is a temptation I don’t need or want. I’m focused on one thing and one thing only: baseball. I hope to have another ten years in the game, at least, which means I’ve got to continue to look out for myself. When I do something, I give it 100 percent, and right now that something is my career. I’m nothing without it.

  Not that I planned to call her anyway. When someone asks about paying out of pocket it usually means they can’t afford for their insurance rate to go up. At the same time, I got the impression Chloe couldn’t spare extra cash to fix what I can repair no problem. She’d probably hate me for thinking that way, but my mind is made up.

  I smile. Damn, she was feisty. And pretending she didn’t know who I was? Insanely refreshing.

  “What are you smiling about?” Mike asks from beside me. On the other side of him is Giancarlo. The three of us are known as a triple threat—our on-base percentages what helped us get to the postseason the past three years. We’re sitting in the club conference room waiting for Rena and a couple other marketing and PR team members to arrive. I’m not the only one getting a social media manager. “Good weekend?” Mike arches his brows in the standard you-got-laid-didn’t-you expression.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Still in pain?” He looks at my sling and for the thousandth time I want to throw the damn thing away.

  I cradle the annoying material with my good arm to adjust my position in the office chair. “Worse. My mom got me a puppy.” Sammy has decided she wants no part of her crate, preferring to spend the nights in my bed. I’ve gotten zero sleep. If I wasn’t taking her outside so she could relieve herself, I was worried about rolling over and crushing her. She slept sprawled out like she owned the place, her legs stretched out without concern for my comfort. All of this when she wasn’t nipping at my sling. Pain radiates from my neck just thinking about it.

  Mike cracks up.

  “Why is that so funny?”

  “Dude, have you ever had to take care of anything in your life? You do know you need to feed and walk it, right?”

  “Shut up.”

  He laughs again then leans over to tell Giancarlo. Great. The two of them love to give me shit for having the last name Auprince. It’s all in good fun, I know, but my life hasn’t always been easy. Not by a long shot. Thank God for baseball.

  I’m saved from further discussion when Rena and a few others enter the room. The meeting goes off with one hitch—my social media manager is running late due to a family emergency. Extrovert One and Two—Mike and Giancarlo—are thrilled with this new plan to guide their social media presence and take off with their assigned sidekicks, leaving me and Rena to wait alone when the other execs say goodbye.

  “Don’t look so happy,” Rena jokes. “This is a good thing.”

  I nod. “I know. Thanks for arranging it.” I may not like the idea, but I’m a team player on and off the field. I’ve been with the Landsharks since day one. I’d like to be with them on my last day, too. I regret some of my recent behavior and this is a way to show my remorse and dedication to the team.

  Voices sound from the hallway. Laughter. “Good luck with Auprince,” someone says with a thick New York accent—Mac, manager of the umpires’ clubhouse.

  “That must be Chloe,” Rena says, getting to her feet.

  Chloe? What are the chances…

  Damn good because Chloe Conrad fills the doorway. She’s wearing light blue jeans, a body-clinging gray sweater, and a Landsharks baseball cap, and I’m immediately bowled over by her for a second time
, surprise and some rare magnetic pull making my skin tight. Our eyes meet briefly before hers dart away.

  “Hi, Rena. I’m so sorry I was late.”

  “Hi. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  “Happy to hear that.” Rena gives Chloe a quick smile then glances at me. “I was just telling Finn how great this is going to be.”

  “Absolutely,” Chloe says.

  “Finn, meet your social media manager, Chloe Conrad. Chloe, this is Finn Auprince.”

  I stand. “Hey, Webster.”

  Rena frowns. “We’ve met,” I tell her.

  “Briefly,” Chloe is quick to add. “And at the time I didn’t know we’d be working together. Hi, Finn. It’s good to see you again. If you wouldn’t mind using my first name, that would be great.”

  “And if I do mind?”

  A grumble I’m pretty sure Chloe didn’t want heard slips out of her pretty pink mouth.

  “Is this going to be a problem?” Rena asks, her tone stern.

  “No problem,” I’m quick to say this time. A hardship, yes, because keeping my hands off of Chloe for the next three months won’t be easy.

  Rena looks to Chloe. “We’re good,” Chloe agrees.

  “Okay, then. I’ve got another meeting to get to. Finn, Chloe is the expert in this arrangement, so you play by her rules.”

  “Will do.” What else can I say? The Landsharks are my mother ship.

  “Chloe, we’ll touch base in a few days.” Chloe nods and Rena leaves the room.

  I sit back down. I can’t believe I’m looking at the only woman to star in more than one of my fantasies. “Small world, huh?”

  She takes a chair across from me. “Yes, so before we start working together, I’d like to settle the car situation.”

  “Nothing to settle. We’re good.”

  “Finn.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I probably should have noticed you making a U before I turned, so forget about it. Now tell me, why do I get the feeling you’re no stranger around here?”

  Indecision mars her soft features before she relaxes into her seat. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ve been around baseball my whole life. My dad is Casey Conrad.”

  I rub my free hand across my jawline. “Shit.” Casey is the home plate umpire whose face I got up into when I didn’t like his call. The major league umpire crew is a tight group and over the years, players get to know them. I’d never had an issue with Casey before. He’s one of the most respected veteran umps there is. But that day, in game three of the World Series, we were down by two and I’d snapped. I regret drawing lines in the dirt to show him up. The ass that day wasn’t him, it was me.

  “Yeah, I was there for your little tirade. For the record, it was definitely a strike. McNeal lit up the radar gun all night and with a WAR of 5.6, you should have at least swung on the pitch.”

  Jesus Christ, this girl knows baseball. I’m tempted to ask her for the definition of WAR, but then I’d definitely lose my mind and probably drop down on one knee and propose. That I even thought that last part means there is something wrong with me. Yes, the soft, melodic timbre of her voice makes me forget the pain in my collarbone. And yes, she radiates some kind of angelic light to go along with her confident attitude. But since when am I blindsided by a woman?

  “Not my best moment.”

  “We all have bad days.”

  “Yeah? Tell me about one of yours,” I say to deflect. I’d much rather talk about her.

  “Not today. Today I’m here to tell you about the job I was hired to do. For the next three months, I’ll be responsible for curating your brand. I’ll monitor, moderate, and respond to your followers, arrange and manage partnerships with other brands, and create and post shareable images and videos. I’d love to strategize with you, but if you prefer I take care of everything, I can do that. That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. You’re our biggest asset so that means I’ll be taking lots of pictures of you. We’ll work the injury angle, baseball, your favorite stuff and your family if you’re cool with that. People want to keep getting to know the real you so we’re going to give it to them. Every couple of days I’ll track our traffic and note what content is working best. We’ll use those analytics to grow your audience. Rena tells me you have accounts on Instagram and Twitter. Can I ask why you’re not on Facebook?”

  Business Chloe is hot AF, FYI. “My time is limited and I like the other two better.”

  “Fair enough. Social media can be a time suck and a lot of people don’t particularly like being in a fish bowl. We can definitely leverage those accounts to engage existing users, enhance their loyalty, and gain new followers.” She glances at her phone. “Are you free for the next couple of hours? I sort of arranged an impromptu lunch with Mike and Giancarlo.”

  “Sort of?”

  “I did.”

  “First order of business, then, we need to sync up our calendars. I’ve got an appointment with a veterinarian at one o’clock.” I could ask Sylvie to take Sammy to her first appointment, but 1) that’s asking too much, and 2) I want to do it.

  “Is it time for your rabies shot?” A tug on Chloe’s lips accompanies her lighthearted tone.

  “Funny, but no. I need to take my new puppy in.”

  Chloe’s eyes widen in surprise and delight. “Are you serious right now? Because that totally trumps lunch today. Pets and athletes are social media gold. Is it okay if I tag along?”

  I get to my feet. “Sure. Let’s go.”

  She taps out something on her cell as we walk through the hallways toward the parking lot. “What’s the puppy’s name?”

  “Sammy.”

  “Aw. Boy or a girl?” she asks while still typing.

  “Girl. My mom gifted her to me last week. She thought I could use the company while I’m healing.” I open the door for Chloe to exit the building before me. She brushes my sling, and I inadvertently hiss in a breath.

  “Sorry!”

  “Don’t be.” The last thing I want is her walking on pins and needles around me. “I’m fine.”

  She pauses to look at me like she’s thinking about whether or not to pursue the topic of my injury, then says, “Have you posted any pictures of Sammy yet?”

  “No.”

  “Great.” She resumes walking. “We’ll start there.”

  “I’m parked this way.” I wait for her to turn. “Why don’t you follow me to my house and we’ll go together from there?”

  “Um…maybe I should just meet you at the vet.”

  “Worried I’m about to lure you to my lair and you won’t want to leave?” The truth is I don’t invite anyone outside my family and close friends over, but I imagine she’ll want to see my home eventually for work purposes.

  She points at me with a quick flick of her wrist. “You should be so lucky.” As if she’s said something wrong, she drops her chin to stare at the ground. “What’s your address?” she asks a moment later, her phone at the ready. “In case we get separated.”

  I watch her type in my response. We part ways and an hour later she’s following me through the gate of my Malibu property. If she’s impressed by what she sees, she doesn’t say anything, only lifts her face to the overcast sky and breathes in the ocean air.

  A beach girl. I mentally add another item to the list of things I like about her.

  I open the front door and we’re immediately met by Sammy. She runs toward us but her big white paws slip on the hardwood so she skids in our direction like she’s sliding into home plate.

  “Safe!” Chloe says, kneeling down to pet my dog. Sammy’s entire body shakes with excitement. She licks Chloe’s face. “Oh my God, you’re the cutest thing ever. Your fans are going to go crazy over her, Finn.”

  I’m going a little crazy over my social media manager. Safe? It’s like she’s in my head.

  Chloe picks up Sammy and follows me into the living area. The large open floor pl
an includes the kitchen, family room, dining area and two fireplaces.

  “Hey, Sylvie,” I say to my housekeeper. She’s cleaning off the kitchen counter having recently made her famous meat loaf by the smell of it. “This is Chloe Conrad, the social media manager the team hired for me.”

  “Hi.” Chloe tries to extend her hand but her arms are full of squirming, happy puppy. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You, too.” Sylvie wipes her hands down her apron. “It looks like you’ve made a new friend.”

  “I have.” Chloe rubs noses with Sammy. “Haven’t I?” She puts Sammy down on the floor, picks up the plush toy near her foot and tosses it across the room. Sammy gives chase. “I love dogs. I never had one growing up.”

  Sammy fetches the toy and brings it back to Chloe. Chloe throws it again.

  Sylvie laughs. I frown.

  “What?” Chloe asks.

  “Sammy never just drops her toys for me. It’s always a tug-of-war.”

  Chloe shrugs. “She obviously likes me better.”

  “You think?” Never one to be outdone, I get down on my knees and pat my thigh with my good hand. “C’mere, Sammy.”

  Sammy runs right into my chest, her skill at putting on the brakes obviously in need of work. Sharp pain lances through my shoulder blade, but it ebbs once Sammy rights herself and licks my chin. I rub the soft, thick fur behind her ears. “Hey, girl. How about we show Chloe how you fetch balls outside?” I may have gone a little crazy at the pet store over the weekend and bought a few dozen soft baseball toys to throw around. Sammy’s yet to catch one midair, but I’m confident we’ll get there.

  Since my dog is a genius, she already understands the word “outside” and runs over to the sliding French door. When I get to my feet, Sylvie’s left the room and Chloe turns her phone in my direction. A picture of me and Sammy fills the screen. “What do you think?”

  “I like it.”

  “Great. Can I get your logins and passwords?” At my raised eyebrows, she follows with, “I signed a contract with the Landsharks and those types of things are kept in complete confidence. I thought we’d start off with posting together so that I can get a feel for what you’re comfortable sharing. After that, you should follow my direction. If at any time you want to pull back, we can. Rena paired us for a reason, though, so I hope you’ll trust me.”