Frankie wandered through Ryan’s house, peeking but not poking. He liked baseball biographies and biographies in general. She had a hard time imagining him in the large room he’d turned into an office and library. Though she could picture him, beer in hand, sitting in the gorgeous leather chair that sat in front of the stone fireplace. On the mantle were five baseballs, encased in glass, sitting atop mini pedestals. She read the signatures: Ty Cobb, Ken Griffey Jr., Cal Ripken Jr., Mariano Rivera, and Nolan Ryan. She recognized a few names but couldn’t say she knew anything about them.
Two tall windows flanked the fireplace. When night hit, especially one of those nights with endless stars, the view would be lovely. There would be just enough light from the neighborhood that the glow would be soft and with the fire going, it was a great reading spot. His shelves, lining one entire wall, were filled with books on finance and baseball as well as biographies and some thrillers. His desk was immaculate and if she wasn’t mistaken, the items on it were at ninety-degree angles from the center spot. She smiled, thinking that his precision probably served him well in a number of things.
Her phone rang as she was setting up her laptop in his enviable kitchen.
“You were supposed to phone me back this morning,” she said to Chloe. While her laptop woke up, she went to the fireplace that separated the kitchen from the living room. It sat between the two rooms, the stone extending all the way to the high ceiling. Turning it on, she stood by it a moment to warm herself.
“Some of us have jobs we actually have to leave the house for,” Chloe said, her breath coming out in quick, hard bursts.
“Are you working out?” Frankie crinkled her nose and refused to let herself feel guilty that she was thinking about rooting through Ryan’s cupboards for cookies while Chloe, the queen of multi-tasking, was working out after seeing clients all day.
“Just a quick one. I ate a pound of fudge,” Chloe admitted, making Frankie laugh. Chloe ran a very successful practice as a certified life coach. Most of the time, Frankie wasn’t even sure what her friend did, but she was pretty sure that many of Chloe’s favorite activities didn’t make the list of wise choices a life coach would offer their clients.
“It’s weird when you talk while you work out. It’s like listening to you have sex,” Frankie complained, curling her feet up on the chair and opening her latest article.
“You’ve never heard me have sex,” Chloe countered.
“This is what it would sound like.”
“If I could still talk this coherently, then he’d have to work harder,” Chloe said. Frankie could see her smile through the phone. Her heart pinched tightly, missing her friend. Before Frankie could respond, Chloe continued. “Speaking of working hard and sex, how’s the player?”
“He’s not a player.”
“Technically, he’s a baseball player,” Chloe laughed and her breathing started to slow.
“He and the boys are over at my house. I don’t know why but they asked for a couple of hours. So I’m at his house. His gorgeous, amazing house. Beth’s house is nothing to write home about anyway—”
“Yuck,” Chloe interrupted. Frankie groaned. She and Chloe had a hard and fast rule that when Frankie used a cliché she wouldn’t let her away with it.
“Argh. It’s amazing. Let’s just leave it there.”
“I can’t imagine why they’d be over at your house. Hmm. Let’s see. Is there a reason that anyone would want to do something special for you today?”
“Maybe if they knew, but they don’t and it’s kind of an awkward thing to bring up. Oh, guess what, it’s my birthday.”
“It is?”
Frankie laughed. “I’m almost as old as you now.”
“Ouch. Just for that, I’m leaving your present at home when I come next week. And even though you’re a brat, I’m sorry I couldn’t get there earlier,” Chloe teased.
Happiness and nerves pummeled each other in Frankie’s chest. She wanted to see Chloe but she didn’t want anyone else visiting. She couldn’t even imagine her mother’s reaction to the house, never mind the three boys it came with. She couldn’t keep putting off finding a solution but Frankie didn’t see a way out of this situation without disappointing someone. If she let herself get anymore attached to those boys, she knew the most devastated person could be her. Or worse, them.
“I can’t wait to see you,” Frankie said. She pushed away the thoughts that were tightening her chest. They spoke for a few minutes more and, as it did, Chloe’s voice dulled the sharp edges of uncertainty that Frankie carried inside of her. She needed to be able to make choices without the influence of others but God, it felt good to have someone know everything and not think she was ridiculous.
The words came slowly, but they came and Frankie was able to send articles to three of the magazines she freelanced for. She opened the email she’d received last week from Variety, which covered, well, a variety of topics. None of those topics had anything to do with shoes, sex, or being single. It was what her father and brother would call a “real” magazine. They’d contacted her and said they enjoyed her voice in the articles she published. They were interested in having her send in some sample pieces, like an audition, for a possible reoccurring feature, something to target more female readers, but not those that read Cosmo. Self-made women, ones that took risks. The irony of being scared to reply to the email was not lost on Frankie. As the cursor hovered over “reply,” her phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Your presence is requested
She smiled. She was losing the battle of self-control where Ryan was concerned. She shut down her laptop and with only a small amount of trepidation, went to see what those four guys she was falling for, each in different ways obviously, had been up to.