Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series by Ainsley Claire (easy readers .txt) 📗

away. It’s hard to meet someone who interests my brain and my second brain, so I know I should pay attention.

Since I moved to San Francisco, I’ve met plenty of women, but they always seem to go from zero to sixty. They’re mostly interested in the money I make. I only attended the event because Nate Lancaster—well, his fiancée—asked. I didn’t expect to do more than make an appearance and slip out the back.

But all that changed when they introduced me to Mia. She’s tall, with the body of a dancer, and she was in a very sexy dress—slit up both sides and showing a lot of leg. Her black hair and golden eyes drew me in, and then to learn she likes baseball and statistics? I was in serious like.

I haven’t been interested in anyone in a while. When Suzanne and I talked before I left LA, she hinted that she wanted a ring before she came with me, and I wasn’t going to do that. I didn’t know what I ultimately wanted, but I knew I didn’t want to be engaged to her right now, or maybe ever. But we still could have had fun exploring a new city. Sure, her family was in LA, but she worked from home and could have done her job from here.

I suppose it’s good that she decided to stay behind. The sex had started out good, but before I left it had dwindled to okay. We each had our own lives and interests. I didn’t see it at the time, but I guess we were just doing what was comfortable.

I look at Mia’s card again. Very tasteful. I know where I want to meet her to watch the game. There’s a nice bar and grill across the street from the stadium that gets a good baseball crowd when the team is away. I decide to take the plunge.

Me: This is Axel Remington. I’m not sure if you remember me. We talked at your Flirt event about meeting to watch the Prospectors play this week. Would you be interested in meeting me at MoMo’s for the game tomorrow?

I put my phone aside and focus on the issues I’m having with one of my minor league players’ contracts. He’s been working on the accuracy of his fastball after an injury, and we got him a great pitching coach. They’re talking about moving him up to the majors. Then I need to look at film on four outstanding high school players who were in the The National Classics Series—the high school baseball playoffs—and I got a note from a buddy of mine saying he wants me to check out one of his players at UCLA.

Before I know it, I look up and it’s midafternoon. How did the day get away? I find my phone and see that Mia texted me back.

Mia: How could I forget a man who loves baseball at least as much as I do? MoMo’s sounds great. Meet you there at five and we can see the pregame?

I like that she wants to meet for the pregame. I would have gone even without her. Pregame gives a feel for how the teams are playing on game day and any injuries. It’s a must for any real baseball fan.

Me: Looking forward to it. See you then.

I find myself smiling. I haven’t been this eager to spend time with a woman in a long time. I look at my watch. The Prospectors should be at practice, so I head over to the ballpark in a rideshare to see how it’s going.

When I arrive, the pitching coach waves me over behind home plate to see the radar gun they have in position, though I remain out of the players’ line of sight. Jeremy is throwing some impressive fastballs. My stomach tightens as the screen flashes 110.6 miles per hour. The next ball is 110.1. He’s throwing two miles an hour faster than Nolan Ryan’s fastest pitch record during an actual game.

“If he can throw like that in tomorrow’s game, he’s going to break some big records,” George, the GM, says from behind me.

“How many has he done at that speed?”

“He’s been at that speed most of the week. We’re trying not to make too big of a deal about it,” the pitching coach says.

“That’s going to kill the San Diego Tarantulas,” I say. “But I almost wish he’d break the record for the home crowd.”

“At this rate, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” He spits tobacco into his cup. “You heading down to San Diego for the game tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on it, but I just might if he’s going to be pitching a record breaker.” I hate to break the date I just made… Crap.

My cell phone rings, but I don’t recognize the number. I almost don’t answer. “Hello?”

“Axel, this is Nate Lancaster. I’m up here in the owners’ box. Do you have a minute?”

I look up and wave. “Sure. I’ll be right up.”

Jeremy walks over. “Hey, boss.”

“You’re looking pretty good out there,” I tell him.

“Thanks. You up for pizza tonight? I’ll buy.”

I smile at him. “If you’re buying, I’ll be there. You want to meet at my place?”

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Is everything okay?”

“I think so. It’s just a little weird knowing that the cameras record me when I’m home.”

“It’s for your protection,” I remind him.

“I know. But what if someone hacks into the feed and takes pictures of me in my boxers at the one moment my dick falls out?”

I can’t hold back my laugh. “You’ve given this a lot of thought. But I get it. We can meet at my place.” I point up into the stands. “I’ve been summoned to the owners’ box. See you at my place when you get