Curveball (4 page)

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Authors: Jen Estes

Tags: #Training, #chick lit, #baseball, #scouting, #santo domingo

BOOK: Curveball
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“Three weeks.”

“You’ll be back before you know it.”

* * *

She was back before she knew it. Back at Buffalo International, that is. Cat surveyed
the gate. The chairs were empty. The airline had called final boarding. “Paging Paige
Aiken” stopped being cute the fourth time to both Cat and the poor airline representative
who had to say it into the microphone. Cat offered a helpless smile to the gate attendant.

“I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”

He didn’t return her smile. His blank stare transmitted more annoyance than any frown.
“We can only hold the gate two more minutes, miss.”

Cat scoured the corridor and, as if on cue, a bouncing head of black and blonde curls
on top of a slinky red mini-dress-clad body emerged from the masses. The smacking
of her four-inch heels grew louder with each step. The dull hum of her leopard-printed
suitcase rolling behind her followed.

“Wait for me!” Paige maneuvered around the seats and thrust her boarding pass toward
the attendant. “Paige Aiken, amateur pilot, at your service.”

Neither Cat nor the gate attendant smiled.

Paige blew a cooling breath on her Starbucks cup. Her brown eyes, framed by a set
of false eyelashes that even Betty Boop might have found excessive, widened through
the steam. “Okay, not a morning person.”

“You’re late and we nearly missed our flight.”

Paige gave a mock gasp. “And this must be the only flight to Santo Domingo from New
York ever.”

The attendant handed her back her boarding pass and she sauntered past him down the
empty aisle. Cat hurried behind her. She took another look at the short dress, the
hem of which lifted even higher with each long stride.

“You wear that to fly?”

Paige answered her with a fashion assessment of her own, pinching the puff sleeve
of Cat’s blue blouse between her long fingers. “And you wear this polyester-looking
thing to … do anything?” She stage whispered, “It looks like you got it at a sidewalk
sale.”

I had.

It had been one hundred and ten degrees that day, but the sixty percent discount was
totally worth it.

Cat swallowed her retort as the twosome squeezed into the cabin. The impatient coach
passengers greeted them with glares. She could feel their heated gaze on her back
as they turned to enter the first class curtain. She cringed, knowing exactly what
they were thinking.

Rich bitches think their time’s more important than ours.

“Not me!” she wanted to shout back. “
She’s
the rich bitch, I’m just the babysitter!”

Instead, she hung her head in shame. It was futile. This was her life for the next
month. Managing the nuclear fallout from the bomb Roger Aiken had so thoughtlessly
dropped on her. She slumped down in her window seat and watched the workers scurry
about the tarmac.

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to turn your cell phone off.”

Cat jerked her attention back to the inside of the plane. A stone-faced flight attendant
was addressing Paige, but received no acknowledgment of her presence. She leaned over
farther, her curly hair dangling over the seat.

“Miss.” Her heavy southern accent sharpened, as did her unforgiving blue eyes.

Paige continued typing away on the tiny keyboard.

Cat elbowed her. “Paige!” Cat rolled her eyes at the flight attendant and snatched
the phone out of Paige’s hands.

“Hey!”

Cat pressed the power button. “And it’s off.”

A satisfied smile crept across the flight attendant’s face. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Paige waited for her to get two rows up before hissing, “That was so rude.”

Cat sat back in her seat, relieved. Finally something they could agree on.

“What a raging bitch. Although, I would be too if I had to walk around with that poodle
perm.”

Cat blanked. “Wait. You’re talking about the flight attendant being rude?”

“Who else?” She watched the flight attendant with a vigilant eye. “She’s power hungry.”
Paige scooted to the edge of the roomy leather seat and leaned over the adjoining
armrest. “Let me tell you something. Cell phones don’t do dick to the airplane instrumentation.
It’s a total scam.”

Cat refused to play along with Paige’s secretive whisper. “So making us turn them
off is what? A conspiracy to annoy their passengers until they become restless, arrogant
asses?”

“No, to make us pay for the in-flight phones.” She pointed at the bisque telephone
dangling next to the tiny window.

“So? Just use it. It’s not like the money comes out of your pocket.” The red dress
was now riding up dangerously high on Paige’s curvy thighs. Cat pointed at it. “Not
that you have any pockets.”

Paige made a vain attempt to tug the dress down. “I don’t need to call anybody. I
was downloading a really important file and it was almost done until you snatched
it out of my hands like a freaking ninja.” Her face crinkled and a shiny glossed lower
lip poked out in a pout. “Can I please have it back? I’ll turn it off the second I’m
done, I promise. We won’t even be in the air yet.”

Cat sighed. She didn’t want the big-haired flight attendant coming after her next,
but she also knew you had to pick your battles with Paige. “Don’t let her catch you
with it.”

Paige eagerly grabbed the red rectangle from her hands.

“What’s so important anyway?” The second the question passed her lips, Cat cursed
herself, but the only other diversion was watching the flight attendant explain how
to use the seat cushion as a flotation device.

“It’s a virtual zipper.” Paige demonstrated on the screen. “There’s this little jean
zipper and you can pull it up and down. You also get to pick what color of panties
are underneath.” Sure enough, she dragged the zipper up and down on the screen. It
made a rip sound as the virtual teeth tore apart to expose a cartoon red thong.

Cat blinked. “Okay.” She turned her head away from Paige’s wide eyes and enthusiastic
smile. “Excuse me, I want to see how my seat can be turned into a raft in case of
a water landing, which—in case you’re wondering—I’m really pushing for.”

* * *

Both she and Paige slept through the entire four-hour flight, a pleasant surprise
for both Cat and the flight crew. Cat’s cell phone began buzzing seconds after she
powered it up in the rental car line.

“Ha!” Paige pointed a long fingernail in her face. “Now who’s cell phone crazy?”

“I’m downloading a cyber shoelace.” Cat looked up from the screen and saw her companion’s
curious expression. She rolled her eyes. “It’s a text.”

“From who?” Paige pulled her arm down, trying to peer at the screen. “Benji? Who’s
Benji?”

“My boyfriend.” Cat cringed the minute the word slipped past her lips. The same teenage
girl inside her that celebrated their four month anniversary also leapt at any chance
to brag about having a “boyfriend,” something she never got to do as an actual teenage
girl, when boys were merely baseball card trading partners.

“Where’s he live?”

“Las Vegas.” Again, Cat cursed her blabbing lips.

Paige let out a grating, low whistle. “Talk about a long distance relationship.”

“For the time being.”

Paige’s mouth quirked into a smug smile. “It’ll never work.”

“Thank you for your concern.” Cat took a step forward in the line, even though it
hadn’t moved.

“I’m just saying. He lives in California—”

“Nevada, college girl.”

“Whatever.” Paige didn’t even take a breath before rushing in with her argument. “He
lives across the country and if you get this job, after three weeks in the Dominican,
you’ll be living in Buffalo and spending your weekends in cities all over the league.
And you won’t even get to see him then since there’s not even a team in Las Vegas
anymore.”

“So I heard.” Cat put her cell phone back in her bag. “Why don’t we lay a few ground
rules for this three-week-long buddy cop movie?”

There’s a reason buddy cop movies are usually ninety minutes long. At minute ninety-one,
the first buddy chokes the second buddy with her own leopard-print platform pump.

She took a deep breath and made sure she had Paige’s undivided attention. “First of
all, there’s no if. I’ve got the job. Second, it’s not the Dominican, it’s the Dominican
Republic. If you’re going to live in a nation for three weeks, you should probably
fact check its name. Third, my relationship is my business. You don’t ask me about
my boyfriend and I won’t ask you what happened with your dad’s last pitching coach.”
She paused for effect. “You know, before he was fired midseason.”

Paige gaped and a slight blush formed underneath her layers of foundation. “How did
you—”

“Next!”

Both girls took a step toward the rental counter but were brushed back by a young
man rushing to the front of the line. He was screaming at the clerk in hurried Spanish.

Paige leaned over in a hushed voice. “Do you speak Dominican?” When she saw Cat’s
horrified expression, she giggled. “I’m just teasing you. I know it’s Spanish.”

That wasn’t what she found shocking. Cat hoped her dropped jaw was able to carry every
ounce of disgusted disbelief she felt.

“Are you telling me you got this internship and you don’t even speak Spanish?”

Paige didn’t answer. She was focused on the heated conversation as the clerk attempted
to defuse the boy.

Cat clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Of course you don’t.” She shook
her head. “Man, I’d love to see the applicants who didn’t make the cut.”

If Paige was offended, she didn’t show it. She nudged her head toward the argument.
“So? What’s he going on about?”

Cat shushed her so she could listen in. “He wants a car.”

The man reached over the clerk’s desk in an attempt to grab a key from the hooks behind
him. The clerk pushed his outstretched hand down and yelled for security. Another
clerk grabbed the phone and a page rang out over the airport speakers.

“Cuerpo Especializado en Seguridad Aeroportuaria!”

Despite her incredulous eyes and the initial impression of wanton amusement, Paige
seemed genuinely concerned. “I’ll say. Poor guy. What’s it saying?”

“They’re calling for Airport Security.”

Two officers in blue jackets marked CESA rushed past the girls and grabbed him. As
they secured his arms, the boy’s eyes met Cat’s. He handed her a business card.

“!Ayúdeme por favor!”

Cat wasn’t sure what she could possibly have done to answer his cry for help. She
scanned the card: Worldwide Baseball Talent Management.

The guard ripped it out of her hand before she could read any further.

“Sorry to bother you,
señora
.”

“What was that?” Paige asked.

“I don't know.”

The guards pushed him forward and she backed into Paige in an awkward attempt to avoid
them.

“Ouch!” Paige pulled her toe out from under Cat’s foot.

“S-sorry.” She watched the boy and the guards disappear into the crowded airport.

Paige pushed her toward the rental counter. The clerk took a deep breath before issuing
them a smile of relief. “
Señoritas
, hello.”

Cat tried to forget the melee and shuffled through the paperwork, handing him an order
form written in a shaky hand. “We’ve got a reservation for a midsize sedan.”

Paige ripped the paper out of her hand before he could take it. “What?” She shook
her head at the clerk. “I don’t think so. We’re going to need a convertible uh, how
do you say …
pronto
?” She snapped her fingers.

Cat gritted her teeth and spoke through them very slowly. “The reservation is for
a sedan. It was made by the team.”

“The reservation is wrong.” Paige smiled sweetly at the clerk. “Can’t you help us
out? We don’t mind paying extra; you can just charge it to the account.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Cat rubbed her forehead and smiled apologetically at
the clerk. He, however, was focused on Paige’s smile, which was less of the “I’m sorry”
variety and more of the “You give me a key and I’ll give you a key to my hotel room”
variety. She formed her full lips into a fetching moue and peered up at him through
her ridiculous lashes, taunting him to give into her demands.

 

Ten minutes later, the convertible Mustang sped down the
Autopista de las Americas
with Paige behind the wheel and Cat frozen in the passenger seat, gripping the door
handle with white knuckles. The Atlantic Ocean was a mere hundred feet away but Cat
didn’t dare take her eyes off the highway as Paige weaved in and out of the three
lanes.

“Now this is what I’m talking about.” Paige adjusted the rearview mirror, smacking
her high glossed lips at her own reflection. “I can’t believe you wanted a sedan.
What are you, sixty years old?”

Cat frowned at the roadway signs as they flashed by. She hesitantly took her eyes
off the roadway to monitor the GPS navigator. “Can you slow down?” Her head bobbed
up and down from the map to the screen. “We’re going to miss our—that’s it, turn right!”

Paige cranked the wheel, cutting across the right lane and rocketing off the exit
with a hard squeal. Cat braced herself as the momentum threw her shoulder into the
door. Horns blasted from the two cars left in the convertible’s wake.

“Okay, where to now?” Paige slowed to a stop at the light.

Cat held her chest as she stared at Paige. She let her mouth gape to emphasize her
speechlessness.

Paige wobbled her head in response. “Well? You’ve got the GPS.”

“It’s not working for some reason.” Cat continued to tap on the frozen screen.

“Should’ve just used my phone.”

“Is there anything your phone can’t do?” The light turned green and Cat didn’t want
to chance an angry driver catching up to them. “Just continue straight. We’re looking
for a road called
Avenida Mirador del Este
.”

“Avenida Mirador del Este. Avenida Mirador del Este.” Paige giggled. “That’s fun.”

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