The Trade(17)

Chapter Five





NATALIE





“Why do they still look dirty in their suits?” I ask, feeling my nose scrunch up.

“Hey,” Jason whispers into my ear, “you’re going to have to get used to me playing for this team, because they have me by the balls for a few years. So perk up and smile.”

“I am smiling.”

Dottie leans in this time. “You’re actually sneering.” She presses her hand to my shoulder. “I get it, it’s hard for me too, but we have to make the sacrifice for Jason.”

“And you two say I’m the dramatic one.” Jason adjusts the cuffs of his shirt and says, “I’m going to get us some drinks, so for the love of God, please be cordial. Don’t you dare embarrass me.”

“Coming from the man who embarrasses us on a daily basis,” Dottie says, her smile lightening the mood.

Jason grips her cheek and says, “I love you,” right before placing a gentle kiss to her lips.

Ugh . . . they’re annoyingly cute.

When I first met Dottie, I immediately knew she’d be the one who’d keep my quirky brother in check. Jason is his own person, one of the toughest guys I’ve ever seen on the ball field and doesn’t take shit from anyone. But when he’s at home, it’s like he transforms into this annoying, teasing teddy bear. He loves joking around, getting a rise out of people, making fun of himself, and trying to make the most out of every situation. Not many people can handle his obscure humor or his tortuous teasing, but Dottie can. She handles him beautifully. And it’s because she’s tough, strong-willed, and she doesn’t back down. They understand the need for give and take, respect for one another, and they communicate well . . . something I’m very jealous of. They are couple goals, for sure. Jason needs her in his life. She’s the perfect match for my brother.

And because I love Dottie so much for loving my brother, we’ve become close over the last month or so, especially once Jason told her about Ansel. She swooped in like a big sister and took me under her wing.

“Now that he’s gone,” Dottie says, pulling me to a high-top table, “when we were in the car, I went through the roster to see who was single and made notes.”

“Dottie, you can’t be serious.” I chuckle.

“Oh, I am. Let me pull them up.”

Laughing and shaking my head, I take in the event space while I wait for Dottie to scroll through her phone. We’re in a converted warehouse near the stadium. From the outside, the venue looked less than desirable—kind of fit with the stigma of the team—but the minute we stepped inside, I admit, I was blown away. The event reeks of sophistication. Men in expensive, bespoke suits, women in just-as-expensive-looking dresses—me excluded—high-tops scattered with dimly lit centerpieces gracing the center, and exposed brick walls caressed by red uplights. There’s a large bar in the back, decked out with every liquor you could imagine, and waiters dressed in black-on-black bow ties parade the room holding trays of decadent-looking appetizers.

Huh . . . looks like the Rebels can be classy.

“You know, I’m feeling a little out of place. Maybe this was a bad idea,” I say, tugging on my black knee-length dress. It’s a nice dress, but nothing like what all the other women are wearing.

“Oh shush, you look great,” Dottie says, completely ignoring my nervousness. “Okay, are you ready for the list?”

“Dottie, I’m not going to go up to anyone. Look at the women here.”

Dottie glances up from her phone for a second and says, “They have nothing on you. Now stop trying to distract me.” Gripping me tightly, she whispers, “Okay, there are quite a few men who are single, but some of them aren’t worth our time.”

“Our time?” I ask.

“Yes, our time.”

“And what would make them not worth our time?”

Dottie rolls her eyes as if I’m supposed to know the secret to her question. “You need guys who have staying power within the Rebels. Guys with no-trade clauses in their contracts. I just started hanging out with you. I don’t need you finding a guy only for him to be traded shortly after.”

“Oh . . . you’re right,” I say. “I don’t want to have to move away from Chicago. Hmm, maybe a baseball player isn’t a good idea.” And God, I love this woman. She doesn’t want me to move. She barely looked at the other women as if it’s a no-brainer that I look better than them. Jason’s not the only lucky one because of Dottie.

“No, baseball players are a great idea. We just need to find the right one, that’s all.” She shows me her phone. “Now look. There’s Garrett Garner, right fielder. He’s pretty cute. And relief pitchers Tony Wellis and Jared Forkey.”

I shake my head. “No one with a big beard.”

“Okay . . . oh.” Dottie looks up at me and smiles. “Maddox Paige.”

“No,” I say automatically. “No.” Shaking my head, I say, “No,” one more time.

“Why not? He’s super hot. The way he commands the mound, the dark, sinister look he has when he peeks over his glove. He’s the face of the Rebels.”

“And the dirtiest player out of all the guys. He pegs players intentionally and he’s the first one to get into a fight. He’s not who I could see myself dating at all.”