Page 51 of Rookie Move
That was a long time ago, though. Now he was stronger in every conceivable way. Georgia wasn’t immune to him, either—that much was obvious. She wanted him, even if she didn’t yet see that they were meant to be back together.
He could work on that.
Leo put on khakis and a nice shirt. He knocked on Georgia’s door, but there was no answer. So he texted Silas instead, and the two of them walked a block to the team dinner at a Thai restaurant. The hostess led them to a private room in back, where players were already gathering.
“Rookie!” O’Doul called out. “Hope you brought your credit card.” His laugh was rough. “I’m ordering a twenty-five-year-old bottle of single malt. I think they just sent the delivery boy across town to buy it.”
“Aw, yes!” Bayer chuckled. “I love a good rookie dinner.”
This particular ritual—ordering the sun and stars at a team dinner and leaving the rookie the check—was familiar to Leo, though it had been over a year since the Muskegon Muskrats pulled the same crap on him.
Whatever. At least they were at a Thai place and not some top-shelf steak joint. He was getting off easy, considering.
Leo ended up in a corner on a bench, hemmed in by Bayer, O’Doul, and Silas. The guys gleefully ordered every fucking thing on the menu. “Sure, we’d love to try the sea scallops. Better make it a double order. Scallops are small.”
He would be a good sport about it, of course. The smiling faces around the table were just beginning to feel familiar. Berreki with his three missing teeth. He neverwore his bridge. And Johnson, who was the grandpa of the team at thirty-eight. He had a daughter in college but he was a wild man nonetheless.
Leo hoped he’d get the chance to really be a part of this team. It was all up to him, of course. And Coach Karl.
Neither Coach Karl nor the GM turned up for the meal. But the associate coaches showed, and a couple of other guys from management.
But not Georgia.
The table was crammed full of food. There literally wasn’t enough room for all the dishes the guys had ordered. There were roasted filets of fish, Panang beef curries, and several different flavors of pineapple and coconut rice. And—this made him think of Georgia—dumplings in several different colors.
Leo pulled out his phone and texted her.Where are you? It’s dinnertime. There’s a ton of food. They’re running up the bill on me.
It was only a minute or two before she replied.I wasn’t going to come. Catching up on some work.
You must be buried, Leo teased,if you’re missing out on Thai food.
I am! Sorry to ask but I need to know if you’ll do that calendar. They need a decision.
Smiling to himself, Leo replied:Which calendar?
The only one we discussed. The naked calendar.
Oh, right.
You just wanted me to write *naked* didn’t you?
Now he was grinning like a lunatic.Yep.
She sent him an emoticon with pink cheeks. It was like being in high school again—in the best possible way.
He went in for the kill.I count four kinds of dumplings on this table.
That’s just mean.
No it isn’t! Get down here. I bought all these dumplings, apparently. Here’s the deal: I’ll do the calendar if you come down here.
There was a pause before she replied.So we’ve stooped to bribery?
Yep.
Ten minutes later Leo was happy to see Georgia ease into the room. And God bless the warm climate of the Southwest, because Georgia wore a sleeveless top showing off smooth, golden shoulders that he wished he could nibble on instead of the Thai food. She hesitated in the doorway, though, probably because the table looked pretty crowded already.
But the goalie, Beacon, saw her standing there. “Hey, it’s Killer!” Georgia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at hearing her dad’s old nickname, but then she smiled. “Get in here,” Beacon said, beckoning. “Yo—Castro, move down for Killer.” They made room on the bench for her.
