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Dirty Game:A Secret Baby Sports Romance(23)

By:Violet Paige


"Ray, it's going to be at least an hour before I can make it in. Besides, why aren't you sending out one of the beat reporters?"

It didn't make sense. I didn't cover stories like this anymore. I had  put in my time at the station so I didn't have to do shitty work like  this kind of assignment.

"I've got two people who are sick, an anchor out early, and I don't know  if I can find enough videographers today. Do I really have to ask if  you're a team player today?"

"No. No. I can be there in thirty minutes. It's just today is my day off  and-" I looked down at the phone, but the screen was blank. Ray had  already hung up on me.

Great. So much for my workout and my call with Emily. I peeled the tank  top over my head and turned the shower on. I carefully stepped over the  side of the tub and reached for the shampoo.

Ray wasn't the only one at the station who barked orders. It seemed like  threats and insults were the only way people in the newsroom  communicated with each other. A little professional competitiveness was  important, but I had almost forgotten the cutthroat environment I had  returned to.

I dumped a handful of conditioner in my hand and lathered it into my hair. I really needed to talk to Emily this morning.

We were planning a girls' weekend in October. Emily had suggested we  meet in New Orleans for a little Bourbon Street getaway. I didn't want  to tell her yet that the producers were going to cut my vacation time.                       
       
           



       

I picked up my razor and shook the shaving cream can in my hand before  squeezing the foam along my leg. My tan hadn't completely faded. As I  ran the razor along my leg a flash of Blake's thumb rubbing that spot  hit me.

Shit! A trickle of blood streamed down my leg. I didn't have time for  this. I turned the water off and wrapped a towel around my leg, hoping  the bleeding would stop.

I tried to tell myself that it was completely normal for Blake to pop in  my head from time to time. It was going to happen. The bleeding along  my calf stopped. What I knew wasn't normal was that those flashbacks  weren't just every now and then. They were all the time.

A month hadn't done anything to dull the vibrant colors in my dreams. His eyes. His hands. His hot-as-hell mouth.

I fastened the last button on my suit jacket and slid my heels into  black sling-back pumps. In the elevator ride to the basement parking  lot, I let out a steady breath. The flashbacks had to fade eventually.  It was taking longer than I thought it would, but I knew if I put my  mind to it, the loneliness would subside.

The gut reaction I felt every time I flipped past a football game on TV would fade.

I pulled out my phone to call Emily on my way to the station. It was  Tuesday, and Emily said we couldn't talk until after work, but I wanted  to let her know I had been called in for an assignment. I flipped the  Bluetooth switch on the steering wheel and waited for my best friend to  answer the phone.

"Hey. I thought we were going to talk when I got off work?" Emily sounded distracted, but sweet as ever.

"Can you believe this shit? I have to go into work on my only day off," I seethed as I pulled onto the interstate.

My high rise was one of the buildings along the downtown perimeter. It  usually took at least twenty minutes to make it to the station.

"Oh, that sucks. I can talk for a few minutes. My boss just went to lunch."

"Oh good. I kind of need to ask you something." I was more nervous than I thought she should be.

"Of course. What's going on? You ok?" Emily asked.

They were there, right on the brim of my eyelids-heavy, salty tears. Hearing Emily's voice broke down the last resistance I had.

"I. Can't. Talk. About. It." I steered the car toward the nearest exit.  Even in my emotional state, I knew I had to get off the interstate or I  would be one of the serial wrecks that Ray told me about.

"Where are you? You sound terrible," Emily pressed.

I parked at the nearest gas station and dabbed at my eyes with a tissue.  My eye makeup was completely ruined. "I just pulled over at a gas  station. Oh my God, what's wrong with me? I'm supposed to be headed in  to cover a story."

"Can you take a few deep breaths?" Emily suggested.

I clutched the steering wheel. "Ok. I can talk again." I had steadied my breathing.

"Can you tell me about it?"

"No matter what I do, it doesn't matter what it is. I mean I try, and I  don't talk about it, and I don't think about it and then-boom-it's  everywhere."

Emily sounded confused. "Girl, I am not following."

I exhaled. "Blake. It's Blake. He's everywhere. And he's not supposed to  be. I'm in Texas, damn it. I'm as far away from the freakin' water and  his songs, cruises, and sparkly eyes as I can get. He should not be here  in my head."

My chest tightened. "I shouldn't be feeling this, right? He was a  complete ass. He has no patience." The tears started again. "I mean, do  you know how many white trucks there are in Texas? They are everywhere."

"Oh." Emily grew quiet. "You haven't mentioned Blake one time in the  past month-not once. I don't even know how you left things on your last  day on the island."

"Why am I even talking about it now? See? He's in my head. I've lost it.  And he should not be in my head. No. I've got to get him out."

"I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out." She giggled.

"What?"

"And I think you have this all wrong; he's not just in your head."

"This is not funny. I'm miserable," I whined.

"I'm sorry. Oh, my boss is coming back. I have to go. Can we talk later?  I'm going into a meeting, and then we have a press conference. I'll  call you when I'm done."

"Right. Work. I understand." I needed to do the same thing.

"So, you, me, and a bottle of wine over the phone after my press conference, ok?"

I smiled. "Absolutely. Thanks. Bye."
                       
       
           



       
"No problem. Bye."

I ended the call from my steering wheel, and adjusted my rearview mirror  to get a better look at the damage the crying had done to my mascara.  Damn it.

I still had ten minutes of road ahead of me before making it to the  station. Plenty of time to pull myself together. It felt good to release  the breath I had been holding for what seemed like a month.

I slowed the car into the KXMA parking lot and pulled into the closest  space to the back door. The satellite trucks were all gone. Must be a  busy news day. I reached for my purse as the words of a country song  belted out through the radio. Are you kidding me? Of all the country  songs on all the country stations, the one I danced to with Blake has to  play right now.

I jabbed at the radio button, silencing the song. I'm not dealing with  this right now. Pinching my cheeks a few times, and brushing the  wrinkles from my suit, I charged into the newsroom.

"Where have you been?" Ray roared over the rows of news desks. "If you  don't get to the scene of the accident now, there's not going to be any  B-roll for you to take and you might as well look like you're doing any  ole traffic story."

I glared at Ray. "I got here as fast as I could. You called me in on my day off."

"Whatever." Ray waved me on. "Get down there before you miss the whole damn thing."

I didn't bother to check my email or grab the stack of notes in my  inbox. I turned toward the exit doors and ran back out into the Texas  heat.



I didn't know what Ray was fussing about. There was plenty of evidence  of the last hit and run on the side of the Texas service road. I pulled  up behind the police car and put my car in park. I couldn't see all of  the vehicles from my vantage point, so I walked across the road to  survey the damage. The tow trucks had just arrived.

"You with the station?" The officer stepped from the accident and tipped his cowboy hat toward me.

"Hi, yes, I'm Sierra Emory from KXMA"

"Officer Blake." He smiled. "You ok?"

My ankle gave a little in my pumps. "Your name is Blake?" I straightened my stance.

"I can spell it out for you, so your people get it right on the screen.  It's B-L-A-K-E. Bob Blake. You think it'd be an easy name to spell, but  they sure do like to get creative with it."

I reached out to grab hold of the police car. I blamed it on the heat.

"Do you need to sit down or something?" Officer Blake stepped closer.

Embarrassed, I faked a smile. "No. No. I'm ok. Would you mind showing me  the damage and the vehicles? I think my photographer is up ahead  getting the footage."

"Sure. Let's stay on this side of the road so you don't have to worry  about the glass." Office Blake pointed at the debris. "It started five  cars ahead with that trailer."