Mets were up first, and after half a soda and the first few pitches, Daniel appeared to be having a good time, whether he wanted to or not.
Sabathia retired the first two batters, then the Mets hit a pop-up and Jones caught it to end the inning.
“These are awesome seats,” Daniel said. “How’d you get ‘em?”
“My best friend and I share season tickets.”
“Sweet. How come he’s missing such a big game?” Daniel asked, his brow furrowed with confusion.
“ She is in one of those luxury boxes, there.” Josh pointed his finger along the third baseline.
“Your best friend is a girl ?”
“Yep.” Cano came up to bat.
“That’s weird.”
Josh chuckled.
After Cano’s base hit, Daniel said, “I’d rather be in the stands.”
“You know it, dude!” And he’d bet his Derek Jeter-autographed fielders cap that Darcy would too.
Chapter 17
Darcy sat in the luxury box, surrounded by some of New York’s ton, trying to enjoy the game and guiltily wishing she was in her own seat in the stands. Watching from the box was definitely not all that.
First, no one actually watched the game. They were all glad-handing, schmoozing, and otherwise kissing-up. The box’s owner was none other than hotel magnate Seymour Holbrook, who had thrown his hat in the ring for U.S. Senate, and everyone wanted a piece.
Second, the food. I mean, who served non-PC duck liver pâté at a baseball game? Ew! Where were the hotdogs? The peanuts? The warm beer?
Third, who dressed up for a baseball game? There were women in the box dressed like they were at a gallery opening.
When Blake picked her up for the game, she thought she’d overdressed wearing blue crop pants, navy skimmers, and her white Yankees polo, until she saw him in gray slacks, white open-collared shirt, and navy blazer. Of course, he’d looked über sexy. Tan neck and throat, broad shoulders, muscular thighs encased in expensive tropical-weight wool. The man knew how to dress. But, come on, it was a baseball game, for heaven’s sake.
Her eyes roamed the crowded space before she found him. Catching his eye as he spoke to the CEO of some bank whose name she’d forgotten, she smiled at him. He winked back and her insides melted. Okay. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
She picked up her crudité and delicately stuffed it into her mouth. As she watched Jeter’s foul sail toward the first-base stands, right at her and Josh’s seats, she nearly choked before she could swallow.
On the big screen she saw Josh jump up and snatch the ball out of the air and away from all the other outstretched hands, fabulous shortstop that he was. After much high-fiving and backslaps from the crowd, Josh handed the ball to some kid in camo.
A wave of disappointment washed over her. A foul ball had finally come their way, and she wasn’t there! Aghast, all she could do was stand there and swallow both her carrot stick and her frustration.
Josh andDaniel stepped into their assigned batting cage. Josh smiled as Daniel carefully wrapped the foul ball in his jacket before placing it on a bench. He’d politely thanked Josh for the foul ball, but other than that hadn’t shown any real excitement over it. Playing it cool again.
After fitting Daniel with a batter’s helmet, he handed him a bat and told him to take a few practice swings while he adjusted the machine. Josh frowned as he watched Daniel take some hard swings. The kid needed to loosen up a bit.
“Okay. You’re all set.”
After a few missed swings, Josh stepped up. “Daniel, relax. You’re swinging too hard.”
Daniel just ignored him and swung a few more times, whiffing past the ball, his face a mask of frustration.
“Daniel, here, let me show you.”
“I can do it. I don’t need your help.”
Josh backed off. A couple more desperate swings. The kid swung with all the anger and frustration of a twelve-year-old who’d been handed a raw deal. “Come on, Daniel, you’re going to hurt
Sabathia retired the first two batters, then the Mets hit a pop-up and Jones caught it to end the inning.
“These are awesome seats,” Daniel said. “How’d you get ‘em?”
“My best friend and I share season tickets.”
“Sweet. How come he’s missing such a big game?” Daniel asked, his brow furrowed with confusion.
“ She is in one of those luxury boxes, there.” Josh pointed his finger along the third baseline.
“Your best friend is a girl ?”
“Yep.” Cano came up to bat.
“That’s weird.”
Josh chuckled.
After Cano’s base hit, Daniel said, “I’d rather be in the stands.”
“You know it, dude!” And he’d bet his Derek Jeter-autographed fielders cap that Darcy would too.
Chapter 17
Darcy sat in the luxury box, surrounded by some of New York’s ton, trying to enjoy the game and guiltily wishing she was in her own seat in the stands. Watching from the box was definitely not all that.
First, no one actually watched the game. They were all glad-handing, schmoozing, and otherwise kissing-up. The box’s owner was none other than hotel magnate Seymour Holbrook, who had thrown his hat in the ring for U.S. Senate, and everyone wanted a piece.
Second, the food. I mean, who served non-PC duck liver pâté at a baseball game? Ew! Where were the hotdogs? The peanuts? The warm beer?
Third, who dressed up for a baseball game? There were women in the box dressed like they were at a gallery opening.
When Blake picked her up for the game, she thought she’d overdressed wearing blue crop pants, navy skimmers, and her white Yankees polo, until she saw him in gray slacks, white open-collared shirt, and navy blazer. Of course, he’d looked über sexy. Tan neck and throat, broad shoulders, muscular thighs encased in expensive tropical-weight wool. The man knew how to dress. But, come on, it was a baseball game, for heaven’s sake.
Her eyes roamed the crowded space before she found him. Catching his eye as he spoke to the CEO of some bank whose name she’d forgotten, she smiled at him. He winked back and her insides melted. Okay. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
She picked up her crudité and delicately stuffed it into her mouth. As she watched Jeter’s foul sail toward the first-base stands, right at her and Josh’s seats, she nearly choked before she could swallow.
On the big screen she saw Josh jump up and snatch the ball out of the air and away from all the other outstretched hands, fabulous shortstop that he was. After much high-fiving and backslaps from the crowd, Josh handed the ball to some kid in camo.
A wave of disappointment washed over her. A foul ball had finally come their way, and she wasn’t there! Aghast, all she could do was stand there and swallow both her carrot stick and her frustration.
Josh andDaniel stepped into their assigned batting cage. Josh smiled as Daniel carefully wrapped the foul ball in his jacket before placing it on a bench. He’d politely thanked Josh for the foul ball, but other than that hadn’t shown any real excitement over it. Playing it cool again.
After fitting Daniel with a batter’s helmet, he handed him a bat and told him to take a few practice swings while he adjusted the machine. Josh frowned as he watched Daniel take some hard swings. The kid needed to loosen up a bit.
“Okay. You’re all set.”
After a few missed swings, Josh stepped up. “Daniel, relax. You’re swinging too hard.”
Daniel just ignored him and swung a few more times, whiffing past the ball, his face a mask of frustration.
“Daniel, here, let me show you.”
“I can do it. I don’t need your help.”
Josh backed off. A couple more desperate swings. The kid swung with all the anger and frustration of a twelve-year-old who’d been handed a raw deal. “Come on, Daniel, you’re going to hurt
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