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“That’s it.” Parker gestures expansively with her glass of wine. The liquid sloshes, almost spilling over the rim. “I’m swearing off men forever.”
Jackie pats her on the shoulder and Veronica makes a sympathetic face. It’s not the first time they’ve played these roles—she knows her part well. Parker swears off men approximately once every three months. Hence the after-work drinks at Murphy’s. There’s no game tonight so it’s a normal Monday night crowd. A breeze blows in off the lake to break up the Chicago summer humidity and make the patio bearable.
Veronica stirs her G&T and wonders how long she has to stay. She feels bad for Parker, really, she does, but it’s been a full day, and tomorrow kicks off a ten-day homestand. That means 40,000 fans descending on her workplace. As an internal lawyer for the Chicago Cubs, her job in the summer months revolves around game days.
Clearly oblivious to the ire directed at his gender, Wallace ambles over with a refill for Jackie and butts into their conversation. “I have a friend I could set you up with.”
Parker glares. “What about ‘I’m never dating again’ was unclear?”
He smiles at Jackie, and her eyes twinkle back. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right guy yet.”
“Ugh,” Parker complains. “We can’t invite you to Girls’ Night anymore. You guys are too cute.”
Veronica agrees. Wallace has been her best friend since college, and Jackie’s good for him. She only occasionally regrets introducing them—like now, when they get all lovey-dovey during Girl’s Night.
“Sorry.” Laughing, Wallace smacks a kiss on Jackie’s cheek—clearly not sorry at all. “I should appreciate the privilege more. And seriously. Let me set you up with my friend.”
“What friend?” Veronica asks, narrowing her eyes at him. “After Piz, I’m automatically suspicious of your taste.”
“Hey, now.” Wallace holds up his hands in surrender. “I maintain my man Piz was just off his game that night.”
Veronica huffs. “He thought he knew more about baseball than me. Actually, he thought he knew more about everything than me.”
She shares a put-upon look with Jackie and Parker, who nod in understanding.
“Well, it’s not Piz. You don’t know him,” Wallace replies.
Gasping theatrically, Veronica puts her hand on her heart. “I thought I knew all your friends.”
“Yeah, babe, who is it?” Staring at him over the rim, Jackie sips her drink.
“A friend from high school. He’s stationed at Great Lakes. Trust me, he’s a nice guy.”
“Oh, nooooo,” Parker moans, and Veronica nods in sympathy. “Not the dreaded ‘Nice Guy.’"
“What’s wrong with nice guys?” Wallace’s voice rises. “I’m a nice guy!”
Jackie shakes her head. “No, you’re not.”
“‘Nice Guys’ only think they’re nice,” Veronica explains. “They expect girls to give them whatever they want in exchange for basic human decency, and we’re not fooled by their transactional nature.”
“We are not! Preach it, sister!” At least the drinks seem to be helping Parker’s spirits.
Wallace’s eyes go wide. “So…I don’t want to be a nice guy?”
“Nope.” Jackie pats his arm. “But don’t worry—you’re a good guy.”
“And that’s…good?”
Jackie smiles. “Very good.”
“Okay, then. My friend Logan’s a good guy.”
“I don’t know….” Parker hesitates.
“Did I mention he’s a fighter pilot? For the Navy?”
Parker blinks, and Veronica has to admit, her own mouth gets a little dry at the thought.
“Navy pilot?” Parker spirits have definitely lifted. “Like, Top Gun? Shirtless volleyball and—”
“Girl, we are not that kind of friends!” Wallace cuts her off. “I told him I’d get him tickets. How about tomorrow? We could all go together so there’s no pressure on you.”
“Well…”
“Think of it as a military appreciation thing. Do your civic duty and sit with a serviceman at the game.”
Parker bites her lip. “I guess I could take off early for the game. You’ll come, too? And Jackie and Veronica?”
“Of course,” Jackie assures, at the same time Veronica says, “No way.”
All eyes fly to her.
“I’m not third-wheeling your double date.” At Parker’s wounded look she softens. “But I’ll pop down and say hi. I promise.”
That seems to mollify Parker, and she turns back to Wallace. “Okay, fine. I suppose there’s no harm in him joining us for the game.”
“That’s the spirit.” Wallace claps her on the shoulder.
Soon thereafter, Wallace and Jackie leave for their dinner reservation. Veronica tugs her purse strap off the back of her chair.
“It’s probably time for me to head home, too.”
Parker sighs into her wine glass. “I can’t believe I agreed to that.”
“Hey, fighter pilot, remember?”
“I don’t know…”
“If it’s going really badly, text me and I’ll make up an emergency for you.”
“I just hope I don’t live to regret it.”
“Cheer up.” Veronica smiles with an enthusiasm she doesn’t feel. “Maybe this is the last first date you’ll ever go on.”
“Veronica?” Wallace’s strained whisper filters through her phone. “I don't recommend the new sushi place.”
On her way out the door, she slips on her red Converse sneakers and grabs a Cubs hat. Over $100k spent at Northwestern Law School, only to wear jeans and a jersey to work on game days. Heels and pantsuits are the norm in the off-season, but the Cubs organization likes everyone to look festive around the stadium when the team has a home game. Even their legal counsel.
“Uh-oh, buddy, you sound worse than the time we drank that whole bottle of tequila in college. What do you need?”
“Parker.” She winces at the sound of his hoarse voice. Poor Wallace. “The tickets. The game today. You have to pick up the tickets and meet Logan.”
“Is Jackie out of commission, too?” she asks, grabbing her purse and locking the door to her second floor row-house apartment.
“We’re never eating sushi again.”
“I’m sorry, Papa Bear.”
“Will you pick up tickets? Meet Logan at will-call?”
“Why can’t Parker?”
“Because I promised and—V, I gotta go.”
“But I don’t even know what he looks like!” she protests, but Wallace has already hung up.
On the L to work, Veronica Postmates soup, saltines, and Sprite to both Wallace and Jackie and scours Wallace’s Facebook page for pictures of his friend Logan. Everything she finds is blurry and out-of-date, featuring puka shells, some braided dreads that she can’t wait to tease Wallace about, and flip-flops. No big insights into the guy, besides brown hair, maybe.
She works in her office most of the day, then stretches and grabs her cap. Stuffing her blonde hair into it, she re-tucks her white pinstriped jersey into her jeans and heads downstairs via the private staff elevator to the ticket office.
“Hey, Dolores.” She taps on the doorframe to the office and the older woman looks up from her computer. “I think Wallace has some tickets on hold today?”
“Sure, hon.” Rifling through a stack on her desk, she hands four to Veronica. “Right behind home plate.”
“Thanks.” She slides one of the tickets back across the desk. “Unfortunately, we only need three.”
“No problem, dearie. Enjoy the game.”
Veronica sighs internally, but it’s not Dolores’ fault, so she musters a smile. “Go Cubs.”
Her phone buzzes in her pocket, distracting her as she heads through the maze of internal hallways to the main gates. It’s a text from Wallace.
Parker is tied up at work but she’ll be there soon.
Groaning out loud, she texts him back, You owe me, and fires off one to Parker while she’s at it. Wallace is out of commission. Hurry it up.
Parker replies, Is he cute? If so, stall him.
Veronica rolls her eyes, arriving outside the will-call window. How does she end up in these situations?
The atmosphere is carefree and excited as the crowd surges in front of the famous Wrigley Field marquee. Her mind drifts as she watches fans stop to take pictures, until a deep throat-clearing at the window catches her attention.
“Hi. I’m looking for my friend Wallace? He left a ticket under my name?”
She looks up—and then up some more. Wallace’s friend is tall. And damn, he’s built. What fighter pilots need with all those muscles outlined by his tight blue t-shirt is beyond her, but God bless the US Navy.
“You’re not in uniform,” she blurts out, then winces internally. She may as well have said, I carried a watermelon , as inspired as that opening line was.
Turning from will-call, he quirks a brow in her direction. “People kept assuming it was a tear-away. Parker?”
“No, Veronica.” Smothering a smile, she holds up his ticket, then leaves one at the window for Parker. “Wallace is…indisposed, and Parker is running late. But I can show you to your seat.”
Flashing her badge, they bypass the line, head through security, and make their way to Section 18, just behind home plate. She never gets tired of the brick outfield wall covered in growing ivy, the green manicured outfield grass, and the throngs of excited fans. Beside her, Logan whistles.
“I mean, I’ve heard, but I’ve never been here before.”
“Best place to catch a game in the entire world.”
“Do they pay you to say that?”
“Yes.” Veronica cracks a smile, and Logan laughs.
Folding down his green stadium seat, he sits, and Veronica feels awkward, standing. Leaving a spot between them for Parker, she sits too. This is prime third-wheel territory, and she’s out of here once Parker arrives.
“So you’re Veronica.” He gives her an appraising glance and she straightens, narrowing her eyes.
“Why? What did Wallace say?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I’ve got connections. There could be a souvenir hat in it for you.”
“Oooh, a hat.” His eyes dance and he leans forward, running a hand through his hair. “He may have used the words ‘shark’ and ‘scary,’ but I’m pretty sure they were compliments.”
“Funny, he never mentioned you.”
“I’m wounded. Nothing?”
She shrugs. “Kinda weird, right? If you’ve been friends with him since high school, why hasn’t he mentioned you before?”
“‘Pathologically suspicious’ may also have come up.” Butterflies dance in her belly when he grins. “Would it help if I showed you my credentials?”
“Uncle Sam trusting you with billion dollar planes doesn’t give you a free pass. I vet all of Wallace’s friends.”
He laughs out loud and—she’s having fun. Like, actual light-hearted, excited to see what he says next, fun.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she shifts, pulling it out.
Is he cute?
Why does she have an odd desire to lie? No, he’s a troll and you’d hate him.
Yeah, Veronica texts back. She clears her throat, puts her mask of professionalism on.
“I should probably get back to work.”
The easy smile on his face fades. “You can’t keep me company until the game starts?”
Well…Wallace did practically say it was her civic duty. And she’s supposed to make the organization look good, too. Just until Parker gets here.
“What’s in it for me?”
“I know a girl who can get you a free Cubs hat.”
Crossing her legs, she angles her body towards him. “Which west coast team are you betraying by being here today?”
He barks a laugh. “Ouch, straight to betrayal. What’s the team Mike Trout plays for?”
She rolls her eyes. “Obviously you’re a huge Angels fan.”
“I prefer to think of it as ‘sports fan’ in general. Not tied down to any one team.” He taps the bill of her cap. “Which came first? The job or the fan loyalty?”
“Hey! Born-and-bred Northsider, here.” She adjusts her hat, then examines his athletic build. “Did you ever play?”
“Enough to know which base is which. But I don’t know any of the Cubs current players. Care to give me a lesson?”
Veronica raises her eyebrows. A guy willing to admit he could learn from her? This is new.
“Hang on, I’ll be right back.”
Jumping up, she flags down a vendor and displays her ID in exchange for a free souvenir program.
“I was aiming for a hat, but thanks.”
Opening it up, she flips to the center and leans towards him. “Here are the ones to watch. First base, Anthony Rizzo. The unofficial team captain, he makes playing first look easy when it’s not. And he’s super sweet, too.”
“You know him?”
“Yeah, I helped him with a charity event last month for his cancer foundation. He’s a work horse, and the way he digs the ball out on double plays is nothing short of miraculous.”
She points at the program and Logan scoots closer to see.
“Shortstop, Javy Baez. He’s probably my favorite, because he’s the most fun to watch. You're favorite player's favorite player, they say. He can tag someone out at second faster than I’ve ever seen, and with style.”
“Baez, got it. Who else?” Logan’s knees bump hers as he examines the program, and she doesn’t move away.
“Our MVP, Kris Bryant. Third base. Also a male model, that’s why he has so many female fans.” Veronica points to a plethora of women holding signs along the third base side. “He’s more than a pretty face, though. He’s one of the best and most versatile players in the game today, and also a really nice guy.”
Logan looks at his picture in the program—piercing blue eyes, dark hair, and the right amount of scruff. “I can see why he’s a model.”
“But nothing gets past him along the baseline.” She taps the page, still marveling that anyone is willing to listen to her talk about baseball this much. “I’m going to give an honorable mention to Kyle Schwarber and Jon Lester. Schwarbs is not a great outfielder, but he’s practically Ruthian at the plate. And Jon is one of the best guys on the mound in the majors right now. You’re lucky to see him pitch.”
Logan meets her eyes, his gaze bright with admiration, his face inches away from hers. Veronica clears her throat, folding her hands primly in her lap.
“There will be a quiz after the game. Be prepared to tell me your favorite player and why. Bonus points for Wrigley Field or team facts.”
“I’m all about bonus points.” His lips part, a smile dancing at the corners of his mouth and—is he flirting with her?
Her heart thuds in her chest and another swarm of butterflies takes flight in her belly. Does she…like it? Does she want him to be flirting with her?
She opens her mouth to reply but she’s cut off by the announcement to rise for the National Anthem and the start of the game.
After a lull in the first inning, Logan gestures around at the field. “What’s it like to actually work here?”
“Surreal, definitely. My law school classmates have downtown corner offices, and mine smells like popcorn and hot dogs. But I love it.” She adjusts her cap. “You have a pretty unique job, too. What’s it like to fly a jet?”
His entire face lights up. “Surreal is a good word. I can’t even describe it—thrilling and terrifying and the best thing ever. Everything makes sense when I’m flying. The rest of the world just falls away.”
“Are you more like Maverick? Or Iceman?”
He winces. “Ah, Top Gun. The bane of my existence.”
“Do you have a cool nickname, though?”
“Sadly, call signs outside of the movies are not that great. Most are really embarrassing.”
“Now I must know. What’s yours?” Veronica tucks a loose strand of hair back under her cap.
Logan shakes his head, but can’t keep the tiny smile from turning up his lips. “Mouth.”
“I see why you don’t tell people.”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “The Navy is not as fond of snappy retorts as I am. I definitely paid for it. I try not to broadcast my bad reputation anymore.”
His eyes twinkle as he says it, and she hums a few bars.
“Joan Jett’s got nothing on you.”
Rizzo hits a pop-up, and the fans around them all leap to their feet, keeping an eye on the ball in case it falls on their side of the net. Veronica stands, too, and loses it in the sun, then sees it drop, drop, drop, right above her.
Wrapping his arms around her, Logan pulls her into his side, away from the falling missile, and the ball lands a few seats away. Fans scramble to grab it, and Logan exhales, then lets go. He runs a hand over his hair.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” His voice is shaky. “Just didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“No, it’s fine,” she murmurs. Her heart is still beating triple its normal rate, and she can’t tell if it is from the foul ball or the close proximity to Logan. God, he smells good. And pressed up against his chest, she could really feel all those muscles, and—
“Hey, guys!” Parker juggles three plastic souvenir cups. “What’d I miss?”
Parker. Her friend, Parker. Veronica is still standing too close to Parker’s date. She’s gotta get out of here.
“Too much excitement for me!” she chirps, grabbing one of the drinks and gulping it down. “I’m headed back to the safety of my cubicle.”
Before either one can object, she’s out of the row and down the aisle, on her way to her office.
But once she’s there, she can’t focus. She keeps thinking about the game. Hopefully the Cubs score soon—they’ve given up two runs already. Her stomach rumbles, reminding her that she hasn’t eaten since lunch.
Maybe she’ll just pop down and get some nachos. And really, it would be nice if she brought some to Parker and Logan, too. Her employee discount makes it almost affordable.
After flashing her badge and grabbing snacks, she winds her way back to the seats behind the plate. Logan and Parker sit in silence, staring straight forward at the game.
“I come bearing gifts!” Veronica calls, and they look up at her with matching expressions of relief. “Cracker Jack for Parker, and nachos for you.”
She hands Logan a plastic helmet heaped with chips, cheese, and toppings, and his eyes widen. “Wow. Dreams do come true.”
He turns to Parker. “You have to help me eat these,” but she shakes her head.
“I’m not a nacho girl.”
“Oh.” Tilting the bowl in Veronica’s direction, he raises his eyebrow in question, and her stomach chooses that moment to growl again.
“That’s perfect. Veronica loves nachos,” Parker supplies, hopping up from her seat and scooting down so the spot next to Logan is available. “She goes on and on about how they are their own food group.”
Logan’s eyes light up. “Me, too! Come on, you have to share these with me.”
They smell so good, she can’t resist. She was going to get her own on her way back to her desk, but…she takes the open seat and digs in.
Between bites, she whispers to Parker, “I didn’t mean to steal your seat. How’s the date going?”
“Actually,” her voice is hesitant and she twirls a strand of hair around her index finger, one of her nervous tells. “I was hoping to talk to you about that.”
But before she can, Bryant steps up to the plate and hits a towering blast to right field. The crowd’s on their feet in anticipation, watching the ball, and they cheer with everyone as it goes fair, out in the bleachers. At least the Cubs are on the board now, cutting the Brewers lead in half with the solo shot.
As they sit back down, Veronica takes the chip Logan was going for, fingers brushing against his, and awareness zips along her spine. He smiles at her.
“Too bad Wallace isn’t here. I want to thank him. I’m really enjoying myself.”
“Me, too.”
Oh shit, did she say that outloud? He’s Parker’s date. She is seriously violating the bro-code. Ho-code? No, that’s awful. Girlfriend guidelines?
Well, the name could use work, but whatever—she’s breaking it, and she’s a terrible friend.
Finishing the last nacho, she stands, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Uh, thanks for sharing, but I should go.”
“I really need to talk to you,” Parker hisses, narrowing her eyes, but Veronica jerks her head in Logan’s direction.
“Later. I’ll, uh, meet you back here before the game is over.”
“Eddie Vedder is signing the Seventh Inning Stretch today.” Sitting up straight, Logan gazes at her, brown eyes brimming with something that reminds her of hope. “You don’t want to miss that.”
“Well…” Checking her watch and then the scoreboard, she does some quick mental calculations. Technically, she has time…and that look on his face seriously weakens her resolve. “Yeah, okay, I’ll try to pop down for that.”
Veronica doesn’t actually make it back to her office. Alternating between pacing the concourse and spying on Logan and Parker, she analyzes their every move.
But…they don’t have a lot going on. They leave the seat open between them, and there’s some polite conversation. Though she’s not in the courtroom these days, she learned to watch for subtle cues, and these two don’t have much chemistry. No flirty touches, no interesting body language, and no lingering glances. But maybe they just don’t know each other well enough yet.
And regardless, it doesn’t matter—her friend is on a date with this guy. There’s a code. Or a guideline. No matter what it’s called, she can’t go back down there.
The rest of the game goes quickly, and the seventh inning stretch is probably the only highlight. Veronica tries to lose herself in the game, but her eyes keep straying to Parker and Logan.
Making another lap around the stadium, she startles at a hand on her arm and spins around.
“Veronica, I wanted to talk to you.” Eyes narrowed, Parker’s ponytail swings behind her.
Clenching her hands into fists, her fingernails bite her palms, and Veronica forces herself to smile. “How’s your date? Looks like it’s going great!”
“Actually,” Parker chews on her lip, “that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not really into him.”
“Why not?” Indignation flares hot through her veins. “He’s cute and funny! A freaking fighter pilot. Are you crazy?”
Parker takes a step back, blinking. “You’re right, he’s great. But there’s no spark there. I was actually thinking maybe you would be a good fit for him.”
“Me?” she huffs, hands on her hips. “No way! I mean, it’s not like—there’s not—I don’t think—”
“Don’t strain yourself. No big deal.”
“And besides,” Veronica snaps, “isn’t there some kind of girlfriend code?”
Parker laughs. “It was a blind date that didn’t do it for me. I’m positive he feels the same. No need to enforce the code.”
Oh. Veronica opens her mouth to say something—she’s not sure what, but Parker interrupts, holding up her phone.
“I actually need to run. Jackie’s requesting more soup.”
“You’re not staying for the rest of the game?”
“There’s not much left.” Parker shrugs. “I said my goodbyes, let him down gently. Logan understands—he’s a gentleman but I’m pretty sure he was relieved. Maybe you can show him out for me?”
Veronica checks the scoreboard. It’s 2-1, two outs in the bottom of the ninth, and disappointed Cubs fans flood out of the stadium.
“You’d be doing me a favor,” Parker stresses. “I’ll owe you.”
“Oh, um, I guess.” She does work here, after all. He’s Wallace’s friend. Sneaking him out the employee entrance is the least she could do.
“Thanks, Veronica.” Parker bestows one of her sunny smiles and heads toward the exit, waving.
Veronica squares her shoulders. It’s the least I can do, she repeats, fighting the current of the crowd to get back to the seats behind the plate.
Logan’s on his feet with the rest of the faithful fans, hands in his pockets and face impassive, watching as Contreras takes a strike.
“Hey.”
Blinking in surprise, he looks down at her, scooting down the row to make room, and a wide grin spreads across his features.
“Hey. How did all your work go?”
Right. Work. The reason she left. Of course. She clears her throat, suddenly unsure, and Contreras lets another good pitch pass him by. “It was fine.”
Logan gestures at the baseball diamond. “I don’t think it’s the Cubs’ day.”
Contreras strikes out swinging, and the crowd groans.
“That happens to them pretty frequently. We’ll get ‘em tomorrow, and all that.” Stepping closer, Veronica bumps his arm with her shoulder. “Too bad you didn’t see a win, though. I guess you’ll have to come back."
Logan scratches his head. “I don’t know…another game? I mean, can you think of anyone who’d watch with me?”
Smile dancing at the corners of his mouth, he holds her gaze.
“Wallace.” She licks her lips. “Wallace, for sure.”
Giving an exaggerated glance, he looks around the stadium, dejected fans gathering their gear and heading towards the exits.
“Anyone else?” His eyes land on her, pointedly.
“Well, I guess I am around. I do work here.”
“And you’re pretty fun to hang out with. Plus Parker told me to ask you out instead.”
She purses her lips to hide her smile. “She did, huh? What makes you think I’d be interested?”
“I still have to take that quiz and all. Earn my bonus points.”
“You think you’ll get bonus points?”
“I have hidden depths. Not to mention, I bribed an usher to tell me all about the stadium so I could impress you. Did you know it was built in 1914 and is the second oldest in baseball?”
“You picked a good usher.” She eyes him speculatively. “But how do I know you’re not just trying to take advantage of my employee discount?”
“That’s what I keep Wallace around for.” Logan clears his throat. “So, Veronica, can I interest you in a drink?”
She thinks about all the work she ignored today, about Parker, about Wallace and Jackie.
“Yeah.” She links her arm through his. “You can. And I can even sneak us out through the employee exit to avoid the traffic.”
“Oooh, I knew there’d be perks, but the employee exit? I’m blown away.”
There’s that feeling in her chest again—excitement. Anticipation. She likes it. Maybe Wallace is finally onto something, because this guy is definitely worth keeping around. A first—or second—date with him doesn’t sound so bad.