Swing (Landry Family #2)(33)

“What if they don’t sign me?”

“There is a chance, as there always is, that you will move cities. You know that.”

My head hangs. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“But you’re going to have a job. And, even if you don’t, you have me managing your money. You’re not going to have to worry about it.”

He’s right, but that’s not the problem. It’s not that I’m afraid I won’t be able to eat or buy a house. It’s more like—what am I if I don’t play ball? I can’t announce. I don’t have a business or marketing degree. I’ll just be another has-been before age thirty and the biggest letdown to my family.

“Okay, enough of that,” I say, flopping on the sofa, shoving baseball out of my brain. “Next topic: I need a plan.”

“For post-baseball?”

“No,” I gulp. “Don’t laugh.”

“If it’s coming from your mouth, I reserve the right to laugh.”

This is going to be a tough one to live down, the fact that I, the best-looking out of the family, is having a struggle getting the girl I want. If I tell G, he’ll tell Barrett and probably Ford, and then I’m fucked. Holidays at home will never be the same. Knowing I’m fucking up my reputation with Graham, I still need him.

“Fine,” I mutter. “I met this girl. The one I was telling you about the other day, remember?”

“Yeah,” he says, sounding entirely too amused for my own good.

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

Grimacing, I wait for the chuckle at my expense. It doesn’t take long before Graham is snickering on the other end. Tossing the baseball onto the sofa, I wait him out.

“Sorry. I thought I just heard you say she won’t see you,” he says finally.

“I did. I don’t mean it like she won’t see me at all, because I fucked her three times last night and she slept in my bed. But unlike most women that won’t leave the next day, she won’t stay.” My voice drifts off as my mind goes to more sinister places. “Is this what my life will be like if I don’t get re-signed? Will I become a loser?”

“You’ll get re-signed.”

“But if I don’t, is this what I can look forward to? Is this how you live?”

“Fuck off,” Graham snorts. “I’ll have you know I have no problem getting a woman. I’ve never called you for advice, have I?”

“That’s because you have a plan for fucking everything,” I laugh. “You give your own advice.”

“True. Now what kind of advice are you after with Miss I-Don’t-Want-You?”

“You don’t have to say it like that, asshole,” I buzz. “I need a plan to win her over. I think what I need to do is convince her I’m more than an athlete. She’s all anti-baseball-god. Weird, right?”

The line stills as my brother formulates his proposal. “Okay, so tell me about her. Besides her physical attributes, please.”

“So you think I was going to start with her banging body?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, you’d be wrong. I was going to start with her smile.”

“Her smile?” Graham balks. “What the fuck have you done with my brother?”

“Funny,” I say, rolling my eyes. “She’s into kids. She coordinates events and shit at the hospital where I get therapy. That’s all I really know about her. That and she has a disdain for athletes, baseball specifically. She won’t open up to me much.”

Graham’s tongue clicks off the roof of his mouth as he dissects that information. His chair squeaks in the background again, the sound of something tapping distant.

My feet move, walking a circle on the navy blue wool rug on the floor. I watch the impressions my bare feet make into the runner, trying to find some rhythm in my steps.

“You’re a family guy. So if she likes kids, she’ll probably be drawn to that,” Graham says finally. “Is she close with her family?”

“No, actually. Her father is a cocksucker and her mother is pretty much a dick too, I think.”

“Even better.”

“G, there’s nothing good about that.”

“Okay, let’s do this.” He’s standing, I can hear it in the increased tempo of his voice. He has so many of Dad’s mannerisms and that’s one. “This is going to sound crazy . . .”

“We’re off to a good start,” I joke.

“Women love seeing a man with kids. Especially this one, I bet.”

“But she’s already seen me with kids. I’ve painted with them at the hospital. This is not new information.”

Graham laughs. “Do you trust me or not?”

“Go on.”

“Okay,” he says, warning me not to interrupt again. “We need to tweak your image, much like we had to do with Barrett during the election. We need her to see more to you than just a baseball player that wants to fuck her senseless.”

“Yes. I. Fucking. Do.”

“Here’s what you do.” He stops himself and snorts, mumbling under his breath, “I can’t believe I’m even suggesting this.”

“Suggest it,” I demand.