Double Play (4 page)

That’s what he
gets for bringing Quinn
. Eugène Sue was wrong; revenge needn’t
be served cold to be enjoyed.

“
Catriona, there you are.”

Cat turned away
from the show and found herself face to face with Pam
Aiken.

“
Mrs.
Aiken? Hi!” She didn’t mean to sound surprised, but the general
manager’s wife didn’t attend Soldiers’ functions unless they were
catered by a five-star restaurant. Aiken’s Steak ’n Taters was a
city favorite, but Zagat’s love wasn’t as unconditional.

“
How’s
Paige?
I haven’t seen her since
I covered the offseason in Santo Domingo, but I hear her baseball
camp down there is going great.”

“
Mmm.” Pam pressed her ruby lips together.
The shade was a perfect complement to her alabaster complexion.
“She’s developed into quite the humanitarian. Taking after her
mother, I suppose. I chair several philanthropic committees, you
know.”

“
Oh uh, that’s nice. Please tell her I said
hello.”

Pam
lightly patted the side of her chignon, not that her dark
brown hair needed a touch-up.
Like
their
daughter,
Roger’s wife was the very picture of
perfection—flawless makeup, unchipped manicure, a
tight
designer evening
gown
that showcased
her
toned body. Platinum bangles jingled as she reached to place a flat
hand on Cat’s wrist. “Darling, I just spent the last half hour
being entertained by your cousin.”

“
My …
cousin
?” A pit began to form and slowly hollowed its way
through her stomach.

“
Yes,
Quinnell. He was regaling me with tales of Scotland.” She leaned in
conspiratorially, twirling her diamond pendant around her
slender
fingers. “I’ve
always been a sucker for Scottish accents. What a
nice
addition to our little soirée.
He’s full of
charm.
”

Cat forced her
grimace into a smile. “He’s definitely full of something, I don’t
know if I’d say it’s charm, though. I better make sure he’s not
pulling anybody’s legs. Would you excuse me, Mrs. Aiken?” She
was less concerned about their legs and more worried he was pulling
their credit card numbers.

She charged the
bar, where Quinn was surrounded by a gaggle of player wives. He was
holding a hand, and as Cat drew near, she realized it belonged to
the brunette from earlier.

“
Do I
miss auld Caledonia? Aye. But I dare say there are no lassies like
you in Edinburgh,” he said.

The women
tittered at his every word.

One of the girls
piped up, “Say something in Scottish.”

“
Hmm
…” Quinn flashed the women his ornery smile, “
An toir thu dhomh
pòg
?”

It had been many
years since Cat had heard any Gaelic. But
pòg …
she’d heard
that one before for sure.

“
What
does that mean?” Foley’s buxom girlfriend asked, her hand still
nestled in Quinn’s.

“
If I
tell you, you have to do it.”

“
Okay.”

Kiss!
What a creep
, Cat thought.

She began to work
her way up to the front of the group. Since Quinn probably didn’t
have any health insurance, she didn’t want to be stuck with the
bill to rewire his jaw when Todd Foley caught him
pòg-
ing
his girlfriend.

“
An
toir thu dhomh pòg
means… will you give me a kiss?”

The ladies
giggled.

“
What’s so funny, Quinn …
ell
?” Cat glared at
him.

When he saw Cat,
Quinn released the girl’s hand. “Catriona, hey.”

“
Hey.
Perchance may we have a blether?”

Grams had been
born in Glasgow, but her family had immigrated to America when she
was just a baby. Nevertheless, the Scottish brogue would come
through whenever she was angry, which is probably the reason Quinn
had learned to mimic her so skillfully. Cat figured he was just a
couple of conjugations away from being fluent in Gaelic.

He rolled his
eyes at the ladies as he grudgingly slid off the bar stool. Taking
him by the sleeve, Cat marched him to the back corner of the bar
area.

Quinn jerked his
arm out of her grip. “Keep the heid, why doncha!”

“
Knock
it off, Braveheart. I can’t believe you’re using that bad Scottish
accent to tell everyone you’re my cousin.”

“
Bad?
Fooled them.”

“
You’re making a fool out of yourself and taking me down with
you.”

He threw his head
back. “Oh ye’re a right scunner.”

“
Quinn!”

Cat immediately
looked around to see if anyone had heard her shout. Everyone in the
restaurant looked to be having a good time, drinks in hand, smiling
as they listened to stories or told their own. Everyone, that is,
but her.

“
Fine,
fine. Excuse me for trying to liven this snorefest up a little.
Benji said this was going to be a party.”

“
We
are leaving as soon as I make my rounds. Until then, sit your
American
arse
at the bar, sip your ….” She eyed his scotch
glass.

He lifted it up
and toasted the air. “Old Pulteney, of course.”

She rolled her
eyes and adopted a fake Scottish accent of her own. “And shut yer
geggie.”

Cat hurried back
over to Benji. It appeared he had managed to dodge the intern and
was now listening to Spencer recap the highlights of the season for
an entire group. She leaned in close to his ear. “Care to mingle
with me for a few minutes?”

He nodded
gratefully. Benji hadn’t been a fan of Spencer since the moment the
newspaper reporter had befriended her at the beginning of the
season. It was a shame, because outside of baseball, Spencer and
Benji had a lot of common interests. Spencer had even started off
as a biology major before he’d one-eighty’d to journalism.
Nevertheless, it was their shared interest in her that put Benji on
the offensive. He’d gotten in his head that Spencer had a crush on
her and would not be dissuaded. She pulled him over to Roger Aiken,
taking advantage of one of the rare moments the general manager
wasn’t surrounded by fledglings.

“
Mr. Aiken, you remember my boyfr— uh, fiancé, Benji.” She
smiled sheepishly. “Still getting used to saying that.”

She felt Benji’s
pointed stare but refused to acknowledge it. They’d been engaged
for
eleven
months now
and she still hadn’t picked a dress, flowers or a date for the
nuptials.

Roger extended
his hand. “Of course. How’s the science game?”

Benji smiled
charmingly. “Ever evolving.”

Roger chuckled
and Cat beamed, relieved they’d skirted past her engagement faux
pas and proud to have Benji at her side. From his charcoal suit to
his matching dimples, he really was the perfect cocktail guest. As
the two began to delve into shared acquaintances from Van Buren
University, her eyes wandered toward the bar. Quinn’s barstool was
unoccupied.

“
He’s
on the loose,” she murmured and scanned the room for
trouble.

Benji and Roger
both turned to her, their interest piqued.

She shook off
their curious stares. “Would you guys excuse me for a
second?”

“
Is
everything all right?”

She nodded and
hurried out of the dining room and into the bar area. As she neared
the players’ cliques, she found it wasn’t as easy to pick out
Quinn’s tall disheveled head amid other tall disheveled heads.
Everyone in the room was in need of a shave and a haircut. Her
brother’s finely honed image of lazy chic was a clear knockoff of
professional athlete panache, but she doubted the athletes would be
able to pull it off as well with only Quinn’s bank account to work
with.

She made her way
around the bar and into the game room. As she scanned the room, the
pool table in the back caught her eye and she beelined for
it.

Sure enough,
there he was, leaned over the green felt, lining up his angles on a
sure shot. He might’ve had the athletes’ stature and style, but his
pale skin stuck out like a beacon here. Quinn spent his days in
bars and pool halls, while the players baked in the sun. In
post-shower interviews, when players would wrap towels around their
waists, their drastic tan lines made it appear as though they were
wearing t-shirts. She entered the room and cleared her
throat.

“
Quinn. It’s time to go.”

All the players
looked up. A groan came from a guy with a bleached
-blond
mohawk. It was the Soldiers’
lights-out closer, Adam Alvarez. He’d been sporting this ridiculous
hairstyle since the All
-
Star Break and it made her nostalgic for his former
shaggy locks.
His mouth hung
open, displaying a row of crooked teeth.
“Aw, come on. Tell
your girlfriend she’s got
ta
at
least
give us a chance to get our money back.”

Quinn smirked at
Cat. “You heard the man.”

Cat glared at
Quinn and turned to Adam. “I’m not his girlfriend, I’m his
half-sister, and also, the team reporter.”

“
Oh.
Nice to meet you.”

“
We’ve
met several times over the season.”

Adam’s
gray
eyes narrowed into
slits. She wasn’t sure if he was teasing her or genuinely didn’t
place her as the woman who conducted interviews after every game.
“Oh yeah. Sorry. Didn’t recognize you without your little pen and
pad of paper.”

Not
teasing.

Cat didn’t use a
pen and pad of paper and for that matter, neither did Spencer or
any of the other regular reporters. Adam had either mixed her up
with the elderly man from WBFL who did the farm reports and sport
scores, or didn’t even have the media personnel on his radar. She
hoped it was the latter.

“
Can’t
you let your little brother finish the game?”

Cat
stiffened.

“
He’s
my older brother—
half
-brother. Half,
older
brother.”
She glared at Adam
again
.
No wonder
he thought she was the older sibling; all this glaring she was
doing was probably giving her crow’s feet.

Adam made a poor
attempt at disguising a smile. “Oops.”

“
Quinn? Let’s go.”

“
Aw,
come on. This game’s double or nothing.” Quinn winked at
her.

“
No.”

Quinn handed his
pool cue to Adam. “Just give me two seconds.”

It was his turn
to pull Cat out of earshot. Once they had reached a small banquet
room that was currently serving as a coat check closet, he said,
“What are you doing to me?”

Cat yanked her
arm out of his clutches. “To
you
? Why do you wink at me like
I’m your shill or something? Do these guys know that you’re a
professional pool hustler?”

“
Shh.”
Quinn’s head darted back into the room. “They will if you keep
yammering. Now come on, just let us finish this game. I’ve got
money on it.”

“
George! Get back here.”

Cat’s response
was stuck in her throat as the team owner and his wife came
storming in from the other door across the room. Both Quinn and Cat
looked over but their presence had not yet been
detected.

George Hudson
lowered his voice, but not so much that Cat and Quinn couldn’t hear
every hiss. “Do not make a scene here, Kiki.”

Quinn hunched
over to whisper in Cat’s ear. “Who is that?”

“
George Hudson. He owns the team.”

“
Not
him, the cougar with the sili-cans.”

Cat rolled her
eyes. “His newest wife, Kiki.”

Kiki’s slender
arms folded across her large chest
, and she flipped her silky platinum hair over her
shoulder.
“You don’t let me have anything! I am not your
wife, I am your little puppy dog.”

“
I
give you everything!”

“
I
want that yacht. Don’t you find it insulting that one of your
employees has something you don’t?”

“
It’s
my money and we’re not spending it on a boat we can only use three
months out of the year.”

“
Your
money? I thought marriage was supposed to be about
sharing.”

“
Not
when you sign a pre-nup, baby.”

Her response was
a resounding slap across
his
face. Cat and Quinn widened their eyes at each
other.

Quinn leaned over
again and whispered, “Marriage. See what you have to look forward
to?”

George didn’t
reply and turned on his heel, walking right past them. Cat quickly
lowered her eyes.

Kiki stalked out
next, huffing as she went by them. “Whatever you do, little girl,
do not marry a man for his money.”