The Lineup(42)

You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. How gullible is this woman?

Mrs. Carlton cuts in. “We adore you, Dottie. We get along with you better and prefer your proposal, but this is important to us, and since you don’t have a significant other—”

“I have a boyfriend.”

I don’t know what comes over me. Desperation maybe?

But I lie out of my ass so fast that as the words fall past my lips, I even shock myself.

I laugh like a crazy woman trying to show off her teeth. Deep breaths. “Sorry for interrupting, but I have a boyfriend.” From the corner of my eye, I watch my dad slowly turn in his chair to look at me. Yup, I know what he’s doing. He’s chastising me with his eyes because he knows fully well there’s no special man in my life.

“You do?”

I nod. “Yup. He uh, he’s a professional baseball player, which is why I rarely talk about him. You know how people are . . . free tickets.” I catch myself and say, “Oh, but if you want free tickets, they’re all yours. I can get you the best seats. Just name it, they’re yours.” My dad coughs, and I gain my composure. “Anyway, yes, I don’t talk about him much to afford him privacy, but we’re very much in love. I can hear wedding bells in the future.” Oh God, I hate myself so much right now. Wedding bells? If Jason could hear me now.

“Really?” Mrs. Carlton leans forward. “I’m sorry to pry, but can I ask who?”

I gulp. “Yup, of course. He uh, just got traded back to Chicago. Jason Orson.”

Very softly I can hear my dad mutter, “Christ.”

“Jason Orson?” Mr. Carlton whistles. “He’s incredible. Where did you meet him?”

“College.” I nod. “Yeah, college. I used to frequent the baseball loft with my best friend, Emory, who is dating Knox Gentry.” Mrs. Carlton’s eyes light up. “Jason and I hit it off back then, stayed in touch, and during the off-season four years ago, we reconnected. When he was traded at the end of the season, it felt like everything was meant to be. Albeit, he’s playing for the Rebels, but I’ve been able to get over that quickly, especially since my man is finally in the same city as me.”

Mrs. Carlton clasps her hand to her heart, a sigh exiting her. “Oh, that’s so sweet. I’m so happy for you, honey.”

“Thank you. We’re happy and keeping things traditional. He has his own place, and we’re courting each other, building that foundation you and Mr. Carlton have talked about.”

I can see the brownie points racking up. I might need a wheelbarrow to help me carry them out of here at the end of this conversation.

“Well.” Mr. Carlton leans back and strokes his goatee. “You sure have given us a lot to think about. Four years with a long-distance relationship in the midst of a hectic profession. Looks like you’ve grown a very strong bond.”

“We have. I’m truly blessed.”

Did you just hear that? It was the devil punching my ticket straight to hell.

After we talk more business, we shake hands again and send the Carltons on their way, promising to be in touch. Once they’re out of earshot, my dad turns to me, arms crossed over his brawny chest and stares me down with those intimidating eyebrows of his.

“For the love of God, Dorothy, please tell me you know Jason Orson.”

“Come on, Dad, do you really think—?”

“Yes, I do. I think you’re like me and would say anything to make a deal. But please don’t tell me you just pulled a rookie mistake and said something you can’t follow through on.”

“Pshh, what little you trust me.” I walk back to my office, my dad at my side. “I’m seeing him tonight. Don’t worry, Dad.” I swallow hard, my nerves finally appearing. “I got this in the bag.” Shit. Shit. Shit. I got nothing in no bag . . .

Looks like I’ll be going to dinner tonight.

What kind of wine should I bring that says, hey, I just lied about us dating for four years and said we’re madly in love, you on board?

Merlot . . . definitely a merlot.





Chapter Twelve





JASON





Dinner in the oven, check.

Apartment cleaned, check.

Apartment decorated, check.

Hair styled, smelling good, looking dapper, wearing a thong, check, check, check . . . check.

I’m ready for tonight.

I debated on whether I should wear a thong because I have jeans on, and we all know how I feel about that combo, but I couldn’t get past the idea of snapping my thong strap at her for pure reaction.

While making my homemade enchiladas with green chili sauce, I went back and forth between wearing it and not wearing it. I finally decided on my lime-green thong. It looks great against my tan and is just bright enough for an impact.

Dottie. This girl invented the word challenge. I’d like to get through that tough shell and have her open up more, but she constantly surprises me, so only time will tell. But I’m up for the challenge, because it’s not like me to back away from one.

I rub my hands together, giving my apartment one last once-over as my phone buzzes in my pocket.

There are two text messages: one from the doorman advising Dottie just arrived at the building—those guys are awesome. And a text from Carson, checking in.