Flirting With First Page 15

  “I’m interested.”

  “Can you clear your calendar for three months this summer?”

  “Absolutely. If things progess with my agent and everyone is in agreement, I could definitely make that happen.” As she said the word, Ryker’s face came into her mind. He would be busy with baseball. It’s not like she would see him much anyway. They could call each other.

  He stood. “Excellent. I’ll talk to your agent and send you a copy of the script. We can work out details.” He held out his hand again and took hers in his own. “I look forward to working with you.”

  She nodded, speechless. The Salazar was recruiting her for a movie, the best he’d ever done. Just the idea of it left her completely without words—her thoughts were blank also, except for a sense of hopeful wonder that such a thing was happening to her.

  They called her back on set, and she finished out her work for the day. She couldn’t wait to call Ryker and tell him. As she hurried off the set, Trevor called her back.

  “Hey, what did Mr. Palmino want?”

  She shrugged. She had agreed to confidentiality. “He wanted to talk about the possibility of working together.” She smiled.

  “If he asks for suggestions, you know who to drag along with you, right?” He grinned.

  “Absolutely.” She rested a hand on his arm, back to business. “Hey, I was thinking. Our last scene is going to be difficult. This is where all that other insecurity needs to come rushing forward, anger, disillusionment, throw it all back in my face. From your perspective, she deserves it. But I’m proud of her. She’s doing the right thing.”

  He stood taller. “I might call you tomorrow morning.”

  “Sounds good. We can get into character together if you like.”

  She had the phone at her ear, listening to the call ringing through before she got back to her trailer. No answer. Just Ryker’s voice telling her to leave a message.

  “Hey, it’s me. Great news just now—call when you can.”

  The staff wanted to go out to eat. Usually Trista would decline. But they worked hard and lived for these kinds of moments, and they’d made her look professional and beautiful every moment of the shoot. She was tired, but they were fun. And she kept her phone close. As soon as Ryker called, she’d end the night and spend the last few hours talking with him.

  But he never called.

  She lay in bed, thinking about him, waiting another hour. And when her phone never rang, she texted, Goodnight.

  She drifted off to sleep, the phone at her side.

  Chapter 21

  Ryker woke up with a headache. The game had gone into extra innings. The players and coach and umpire and even the fans were miserably agitated and shouting. Several fights had broken out in the stands, and at one point, Ryker had pointed to Bree and told her to leave.

  What a mess. It didn’t help that after all of the emotion, The Blue Jays had lost. He had been in no mood to do anything after the game, and at nearly midnight, when he finally rolled into bed, he listened to Trista’s message with his first smile in many hours and then fell asleep.

  As soon as his early alarm rang in the morning, he reached for his phone and called Trista. Smiling while he listened to the ring, he frowned when it switched to voicemail. It was early. Seven AM. Maybe she wasn’t up yet? He left a message. “What a game last night. Did you see the mess in the stands? Finally fell asleep after midnight. Hope your day was better. Can’t wait to hear your good news.”

  He went for a run, hoping to catch her when he got back before he had to get on the plane. They were travelling for the next ten days. And nowhere near Trista. He frowned and pounded his feet into the soft earth at the park. They knew the next couple weeks were going to be rough. She was finishing up her movie, and his games were all away. But living the reality of it was more annoying than he’d anticipated. He shook his head. One day. Couldn’t he go one day without talking to Trista and still feel normal?

  Maybe he should call the guys. Grizz. He’d somehow figured out relationships. Maybe he would have some pointers.

  His notifications started buzzing on the phone on his arm. He’d forgotten to turn them off. He pushed through his run, trying to ignore the desire to check every one in case it was a text from Trista. Finally, after he’d pushed through three miles, he pulled out his phone and slid it open.

  Nothing from Trista. But plenty about her.

  Team Trevor was hard at work retweeting a photo of Trista and Trevor walking in from the parking lot together, his arm draped around her. Their heads were together and she was smiling. He zoomed to see how real the smile was, but the image went blurry. So she hadn’t answered because she was with Trevor this morning?

  He shook his head. It didn’t matter if she was with Trevor. She was with Trevor every day. He’d seen them together, all tangled up in an embrace, and knew she didn’t care for Trevor. Ryker knew she cared for him, knew she loved him. A few hours without a conversation and some images of her smiling did not change any of those facts. And yet, he had to admit he was freaking out a little.

  Maybe he wasn’t cut out to date a movie star. He preferred the quiet life his parents had always led. He preferred privacy. And he appreciated a nice, trouble-free relationship.

  But he was cut out to date Trista. Movie star was just what she did for her job. It didn’t define who she was. He walked off his cool down through the park back toward the hotel. The more he knew her, the less she fit the perceived stereotype.

  How many people really fit into a precise envelope? Labels were dangerous in all their forms. He was no more the typical baseball player than Trista was the typical Hollywood star. They didn’t hit every ping that defined their personalities.

  His rationalizing and logical inner dialogue got him all the way to his hotel room without freaking out. But really, if he had time, he’d have gone for another three-mile run. Faster. Harder.

  The shower couldn’t pound his frustration out of him. And when he loaded the bus to the airport with the team—still no call or text from Trista—he slipped on his headphones to avoid talking to his teammates.

  When they arrived in Columbus, Ohio, the drizzly, misty, sixty-degree weather did nothing to ease his mood. But as the plane touched down, his phone started dinging. And even though the notifications weren’t from Trista, the Belltown texts made him smile.

  He was playing Sawyer today, and the Black Racers were in the middle of a winning streak, led by Skeeter’s fastball. He let his worry about Trista go in the warmth of friendship.

  Ryker: So who thinks I can get a piece of Skeet today?

  Skeeter: That’s cute, Rabbit.

  Grizz: He’s adorable.

  Ryker: Let’s not forget the times I actually have hit his fast ball.

  Skeeter: You remember little league or something?

  Levi: Ooooh.

  Ryker: What are the stakes this time?

  Skeet: Winner buys dinner.

  Ryker: And?

  Skeet: Don’t you think that’s enough?

  Grizz: Someone needs to rebirth the Belltown haka.

  Axel: Yes! Haka! Haka!

  Ryker: You’re on. Loser does the haka. May our island friends not strike us down for our blasphemy.

  Skeet: I think you might live to regret your enthusiasm.

  Ryker: No way. I’ll record every second of you doing the haka for all our Belltown fans.

  They kept at it, and soon Ryker was laughing until he had tears. Cole joined in and told them he was coming to the game.

  Cole: I was just gonna fly right over on my way to LA, but I’ve suddenly found an urgent reason to be at the game.

  Levi: I think we should all get private jets. Standard issue.

  Skeeter: Second that.

  Nickel leaned over. “The SixPack?”

  Ryker nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Skeet’s on a streak, up for a pitching record I think.”

  “Yup.” He secretly hoped Sawyer passed the record so high th
at no one else would top it in their lifetime. Did he hope to strike out himself to give it to him? No way. But maybe Skeet could beat the record for strikeouts while Ryker hit a homerun off him. He grinned.

  “Anyone else coming to the game?” Nickel’s expression seemed innocent, but something was up behind his eyes.

  “Cole just said he’d come. How about you?”

  “Nah, parents couldn’t make it to this one. Just wondering if we would get a movie star appearance. If so, I gotta comb my hair, you know…” He was just being funny, but his comments brought back Ryker’s frustration with a vengeance. He turned away, biting his tongue.

  “So, not coming?”

  Ryker ran his thumb over his rock three times before sighing. “Not today.” Then before Nickel could say anything else about it, Ryker added, “And she’s not up for discussion.”

  He held up his hands. “Okay, understood.” He called out to the plane. “By way of announcement, Ryker’s girl is not up for discussion.”

  The guys groaned and whined, and Ryker felt like pounding someone. What was wrong with him? He needed a good quote. He stood. “Get your heads in the game, guys.”

  They groaned again.

  “Baseball is ninety percent mental. The other half is physical”

  They cheered. “Ryker’s back!”

  He held up his hands. “And, ‘We made too many of the wrong mistakes.’ Because, ‘If the world were perfect, it wouldn’t be.’ ” That should give them something to think about. They all went back to gathering their things, muttering about Yogi Berra, and preparing to get off the plane. He smiled. Things were as they should be.

  Except in the area of Trista. No texts yet today. Where was that woman? He tried to remember what she said was on the schedule for today. She was probably swamped. She’d had three really important shooting days back to back, and today was the final goodbye scene. She’d told him all about it and how she had to nail it just right, a cross of emotion between vulnerability and likability for their audience and strength and ruthless courage. He had no idea how to even attempt such a thing. How did you portray ruthless courage? But she’d told him it takes plenty of concentration and often hours of prep time. Texting him might not be part of that process.

  He shrugged. He understood getting into the zone. He could be patient. The plane at last landed. When it came to a full stop, he stood, more than ready to get moving. His shoulders rotated, and he swung his bag over his back.

  They got off the team plane and walked in a line to get to the bus. As soon as they exited the security area of the airport, cheering made him smile. Someone was getting a real Ohio welcome home. When he turned the corner, around twenty kids cheered even louder, all wearing Blue Jays colors. The two in front held posters. “Welcome Blue Jays.” The whole mess of them jumped and cheered and waved.

  “What?” Ryker grinned. They had Blue Jays signs, wore their jerseys. He walked up to the first child. ”It’s good to see you guys. So we’ve got ourselves some Blue Jays fans in Ohio.”

  “We’re on a Scout trip.” He held up a ball. “Could you sign this for me? You’re Ryker Stone, aren’t you?”

  “I am. Sure, let me see that.” He dug in his bag for a sharpie and then wrote, Rabbit across the kid’s ball. “You coming to the game, huh?”

  “Yup. We all are.”

  Other players had approached the kids, and the whole scene made Ryker smile. “Well, I’ll hit one for you.”

  His face lit. “Thank you.” He nudged his friend. “He’s gonna hit one for me.”

  The kid’s eyes widened. “Will you hit one for me too?”

  “If I can. Sawyer Bennet’s pitching today.”

  “He’s part of the SixPack like you.”

  “Yes, he is. You know your baseball.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Well, if Sawyer will let me, I’ll try to get a piece of at least one ball today.”

  “Awesome.”

  “And I’ll try to keep those Black Racers off my base.”

  He chatted with them for a few more minutes, and then the guys all went out to the curb and loaded their bus. Whenever he saw kids like that, cheering for their home team, loving the game, it made everything about baseball worthwhile.

  They drove straight to the practice field, and Coach had them running drills before their shower and game time that evening.

  As Ryker headed into the stadium, forcing Trista’s non-responsive last twenty-four hours out of his mind, his phone dinged. Thinking about you, Trista texted. Hit one off Skeeter.

  He couldn’t stop his grin. He didn’t care how goofy he looked. He took a selfie and sent it. Me when I finally get a text from my girl.

  Heading into my scene. You got this.

  He tried not to be so goofy. You’re gonna blow everyone away. Rooting for you. He cringed. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say to help an actress get in the zone.

  She texted back a row of hearts, and he felt better. At least she’d remembered him. And she was off to do her scene. Finally, the last one. Maybe they’d have some time once he got back from his stretch of games.

  He dumped everything in the locker room and bounced on his toes, ready for the announcer to start the game. Skeeter was warming up, and for a moment, his mind imagined Grizz over behind home plate, catching for him. He thought back to his belltown days and pretended they were warming up for a university game, all the guys still together. Cole danced in the outfield and Axel crouched down, ready at shortstop, nodding to Levi on third. Ryker started their passes from first in the pre-game warmup and everything was as it should be. Hail to Belltown.

  Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure What would they think if anyone knew he also quoted Jane Austen? Thanks to Bree. As he looked out over the stands, remembering his brothers in the SixPack, he knew he was lucky, as lucky as they get.

  And Trista had texted back.

  Their music started playing, and the announcer started running through their names. “Ryker Stone, first base.” He ran out on the field to a respectable amount of cheers. He turned until he saw the Scouts, a tight group in Blue Jay colors, and he waved to them. They stood and shouted, going crazy. And Ryker’s grin grew. That was what it was all about.

  Then Coach announced the batting lineup, and Ryker was up fifth. Pressure was on. He found his own zone and focused on not being the one to dance the haka after the game.

  Chapter 22

  Trista laughed until she cried. She played the video again. Trevor and a few of the others sat around, humoring her while she showed them Ryker’s after-game video for the third time. Cole had sent it to her. She was sure it would be up on social media in a few minutes. Ryker was dressed in a traditional Maori costume, and it wouldn’t be funny at all if Ryker was actually good at the dance. Trista had seen the haka done right, and it was powerful and beautiful. But Ryker… She shook her head. Well, he was a good sport. At the end, he pointed at Cole’s phone and shouted, “This is for you Belltown.”

  “I think it was for me, actually.” Sawyer’s face filled the screen and he pretended to wipe his eyes. “And that was beautiful, dude, really something.”

  Cole waved him away and then the phone went dark.

  Trista wiped her eyes. “Oh, it’s so good to laugh.” They’d had an intense day. One more shot and they could be finished. She’d gotten through the most emotional scene, and this downtime was just what she needed. She sent a selfie to Ryker and Cole. I’m dying.

  Ryker: Glad I could make you laugh.

  Trista sighed. Me too. They were starting to gather back on set. Gotta run.

  Ryker: You can do it.

  She sent him a heart emoji and then prepared for the wrap up. The camera would shoot her and Trevor separately and flash between the two. She was confident, ready to face the world. He was resigned, happy for her but with his heart broken. Just thinking about the movie finally wrapping up put her in the perfect mindset to shoot this scene. She was ready to have
a break, some time with Ryker.

  Her phone rang. It was Palmino. She held up her finger to the director and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  He frowned but waved for her to take a minute.

  Trista walked back toward the refreshment table. “Hello.”

  “Hey, did you get the information I sent you?”

  “I did. It looks fantastic. Let’s move forward and involve Quinn.”

  “Got it. I’m thrilled. You’re gonna make the whole movie. What did you think of the script?”

  “It’s beautiful. You’re right, it will be the best thing you’ve ever done. I’m excited to be involved.” As soon as she’d seen the script, she’d wanted in so bad it hurt. She’d stayed up late in the night, finishing the last pages in tears. This opportunity was what she had been waiting for, it was a perfect next step from the film she was just wrapping up, a perfect career move—even a finale if she wanted. It was the kind of film that people remembered, maybe forever. She’d texted Quinn to grab on with both hands.

  She dropped her phone in her purse and then walked to the set, breathing deeply and putting herself back in the zone. The small confident smile she could feel growing on her lips perfectly set the tone without her having to do much else. Things were looking up. She had connected with Ryker, had a brilliant new movie on the calendar and was finishing up a film that everyone predicted would sweep the Oscars.

  Hours later, she pressed her fingers into her temples. A throbbing pressure grew behind her left eye. She wasn’t sure she could continue with the scene today. Trevor just couldn’t get it together, and the director had asked her to stick around because he thought her presence would help. She swallowed three painkillers, downing them with an energy drink, and hoped for the best. Her texts back and forth with Quinn were fast and furious, and things were quickly moving on the new movie deal. What she hadn’t known was that Palmino was hoping to get moving on this immediately, as in next week. And he wanted her more isolated than she had anticipated. They were to keep outside communication to a minimum. She’d agreed—how could she not? But now, wishing she could detach her own head from her body and waiting for Trevor to finally do a take worth keeping, all she wanted was a hot bath and a long conversation with Ryker. The last few days had been a whirlwind, and their very limited conversations were not enough. She sensed something was off with him but hadn’t had time to even think about it. Now, she was going to leave for three months? The worry that their schedules just wouldn’t work for a relationship right now was too overwhelming for her pounding head to deal with, so she sat and stewed about nothing instead. She started to lose patience with Trevor. When the director yelled cut, she waved him over.