SLOW HANDS

32



Before he could get carried away with thoughts that would only enrage him, he made himself back down and quit speculating. He’d find out before the end of the day. One way or another. And then he’d decide what to do about Chloe. And his account. When the game ended after the visiting team failed to score the necessary runs to overtake the Tide in the ninth inning, Chloe stood, her cheeks flush with excitement.

“We’re going to have an awesome season. I just know it!”

He stood beside her unsure of what would happen now. Nothing had gone the way he’d anticipated. Sure enough, she grabbed his hand and began pulling him toward the exit. “Come on,” she said.

But they didn’t leave the stadium. Instead they went down to a restricted area, where Chloe flashed a pass he hadn’t seen up to this point. He shouldn’t be surprised. But when they stopped outside the players’ locker room, he was. They waited a good while. Several members of the press came and went. Finally one of the players stuck his head out the door, looked up and down and then his eyes brightened when he saw Chloe. Timothy was a little starstruck. It was the Tide’s catcher, Paul Hilton. He was a veritable legend in baseball, and it was rumored this would be his last year before he retired.

“Chloe! You should have just come on in. Bryce got held up by an interview, but he wanted you to come on back.” he said.

Chloe walked over and gave the catcher a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Good game, Paul, you are looking as awesome as ever.” she said.

The big man actually blushed. He glanced up at Timothy, and Timothy was convinced the guy scowled at him.

“Oh, Paul , this is Timothy Kavell – Packard. Timothy, this is Paul Hilton, the Tide’s star catcher.”

“Yes, I’m well aware,” Timothy said. “Great game. I’ve watched you for a lot of years.”

“You Timothy Kavell who makes the sportswear?” Chris asked.

Timothy nodded.

“Your Dad still in the business?

Timothy gave him a small smile.” Yes, he is, but retiring soon ”

Paul nodded. “Cool. You two come on back. Bryce should be done by now.”

Despite his wealth and position, Timothy couldn’t control the incredible rush of walking into the Tide’s locker room. It was every little boy’s dream. It was why he’d gone into the business he had. He loved sports, and he was as in awe of the big dream as any other kid out there who loved sports. Several players stopped Chloe for a quick hug and a kiss. Some ruffled her hair and she gave them affectionate pats in return.

“Chloe! There you are.”

Timothy looked up to see Bryce barreling his way through a crowd of people. The next thing he knew, he had Chloe in a giant bear hug, swinging her around in a circle. Timothy watched, his irritation growing more with each passing second. Just who was this guy to Chloe? He wondered. Finally Bryce put her down.

“Hey, did you see? Fantastic hit, wasn’t it?” he said.

Chloe smiled broadly at the other man and her affection for him was obvious. A fact that made Timothy even grumpier. Endorsement or not, he was ready to deck the star right in the jaw… And for what reason? He and Chloe were barely friends, talk more of a couple.

“I saw, of course. You were awesome as always.” she replied.

“Hey, I need to get a quick shower. You two can wait for me over there,” Bryce said, gesturing toward a sitting area that was removed from the chaos of the open locker room. “I won’t be long.”

Chloe kissed his cheek. “We’ll be there. Take your time.”

Bryce ruffled her hair affectionately and loped off toward the showers.

Timothy opened his mouth to ask but then shook his head. He’d wait. This had to be worth the price of admission. Chloe led him into the adjoining room and sat on one of the leather couches.

“This is usually reserved for coaches and their families,” she said when he sat down in one of the chairs across from her. “None of the press or players will come in here.”

“You know I have a hundred questions, Chloe,” he said drily.

She flushed a little guiltily. “Okay, so maybe I’m guilty of wanting to watch you experience everything firsthand. I mean I could have warned you but that wouldn’t have been any fun.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The only question I want answered right now is whether you’re involved with Bryce Collins.”

He knew it wasn’t any of his business and that he was way out of line, but he didn’t care. He watched her eyes go wide in shock. Her mouth fell open, and he knew at that moment, whatever he might have assumed-even with good reason-he was dead wrong.

“It was a sensible assumption,” he defended before she could speak. Urghh… Now he wanted to punch himself.

“Timothy, Bryce is my-” They were interrupted when the three men Chloe had gone to visit in the stands came through the door.

“Chloe , love,” the older man said when his gaze lighted on her. He smiled big and held out his arms. Chloe went into his embrace and endured a painful-looking bear hug.

The other two men regarded Timothy with what could only be considered as suspicion.

“Going to introduce us, Chloe?” the bigger man asked.

“Of course,” she said as she curled her arm around the older man’s.

“Timothy, This is Bryce’s father, Darell Collins, and these two are his brothers, Edward and Peter. Guys, this is Timothy Packard. He owns Packard Enterprises. I brought him back to talk to Bryce.”

Timothy could swear she said the last pointedly. He relaxed and shook the hands of each man and endured a painful grip from each. Typical measuring stick of a man. See if you could make the other wince. He squeezed back with as much force and endured grudging looks of respect from them. Interesting that they were all back in the players area and that they’d sat in different areas for the game, although Chloe had said she’d gotten the tickets particularly for him.

“Very glad to meet you, sir,” he directed at Bryce’s father.This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Are you the man responsible for our Chloe working so many long hours?”

Timothy lifted one eyebrow then glanced between Chloe and the man. Chloe closed her eyes in despair and shook her head helplessly at Timothy.


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