CHAPTER1
TANNER
My friends and I had a rule. The last one to arrive at any group get-together had to pick up the tab. That person was almost always Bart. I loved the guy, but for all his many good qualities, punctuality was not one of them.
Which was why, when I walked into the crowded sports bar and saw Bart, Shawn, Jeremiah, and Stephanie already crammed into a booth in the corner, I groaned. That’s just great. I’m never going to hear the end of this.
It had become a point of pride for me that I’d never shown up last, but I guessed that was over now. Sighing as I shoved the hood of my sweatshirt off my head, I shrugged out of my coat and hooked it on the rack near the door before shaking my arm to let my watch drop back to my wrist. The silver hands on it told me I was two minutes early.
What the hell?
Jeremiah looked up as I weaved my way through the crowd of hockey-jersey-wearing patrons. He grinned as I slid into the booth.
“You guys cheated, didn’t you?” I said. “I don’t know how, but I refuse to accept that I legitimately got here last.”
Shawn sucked in a gasp, his hand flying to his chest as he pretended to be insulted. “Us? Cheat? Never. Do you really think we’d do that to you?”
“Yes.” I stuck my watch in his face. “The stock markets aren’t even closed yet, it’s that early. No way all of you are here before me without something else going on.”
He shrugged, running his hand through his thick, dark hair. He glanced at Jeremiah, who shot him a wide-eyed glare, before he looked back at me. “I don’t know what to tell you, man. I’m a model. The stock markets don’t affect me much.”
Bart cleared his throat, leaning forward even though his gaze was still locked on the game being played on the TV above the bar. “Actually, the markets do affect you. Since they’re linked to the economy—”
Jeremiah cut him off with a loud groan. “It’s Friday afternoon. Let’s leave the stock market out of it.”
Someone scored in the game, and the crowd around us went wild. Jeremiah put his arms out to his sides and bowed his head like they were cheering for him. He grinned. “I’m taking that as the universe agreeing with me.”
Stephanie, Jeremiah’s girlfriend and the woman I was pretty sure he was going to marry one day very soon, laughed and poked him in the ribs. “Says the guy who checked his portfolio just before we came inside.”
“Hey, I needed to know how I did this week. If I was drinking tonight to celebrate or to forget.” He slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Do I really need to remind you that you did the same thing?”
“Only because you made me feel like I had to,” she mumbled, but she was smiling as she rested her head against his arm. Bringing her gaze to mine, she picked up her beer but didn’t sip it yet. “When does spring training start? Are you excited?”
“Sure.” I shrugged, taking the bottle of water Bart offered me that they must’ve ordered when they got their drinks. “It’s going to be a heck of a season.”
Steph’s eyes moved from one of mine to the other. “You do realize that the expression on your face doesn’t match what you’re saying, right? You look about as excited as I do when I have to go over our financial statements.”
“I thought you loved our financial statements,” Jeremiah joked. She rolled her eyes at him and he laughed.
“I love the numbers I see on our statements, not having to spend days poring over them with a fine-tooth comb,” she replied without skipping a beat. “Anyway, this isn’t about our company. It’s about what’s going on with Tanner.”
“How is the company?” I asked, trying to redirect the conversation. “It’s been a busy couple months for you guys. Have you managed to integrate your operations with Williams Inc. yet?”
Jeremiah blew out a breath and shook his head. “Not completely. My relationship with my old man might’ve been complicated, but I sure would’ve liked to have been able to ask him about a few things.”
Shawn pointed at me with the bottle of beer in his hand. “Nope. We’re not talking about that right now. I’m starting to think Steph is right. If you’d rather talk about that than baseball, there’s something wrong. Why are you avoiding the question, Mr. Professional Baseball Player Who Got Recruited Right Out Of High School And Has Never Loved Anything More Than The Game?”
“That’s a really long title,” I said. “I’m not avoiding the question. There’s just not much more to say about it. I’m excited for spring training, but you all know that playing professionally has sucked a lot of joy out of the game for me. That’s all it is.”
“Okay, enough,” Jeremiah declared, grinning as he signaled their waiter. “The next person who says anything serious gets a shot.”
“I can’t.” I flexed my arm, curling my bicep and smirking at him. “I’ve got to be in tip-top shape in a couple weeks’ time. These guns don’t load themselves.”
He snorted. “Better not say anything that will earn you a shot, then. Otherwise, you and those guns will be marinating in tequila before the end of the night.”
Before I could reply, my phone started vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out, frowning when my financial advisor’s name flashed on my screen. “Give me a second. I need to take this.”
Frank didn’t usually call this late, so it was probably important. I jumped up and cut through the hockey fans, stepping out into the back alley to take the call. It had stopped ringing and started up again in the time it took me to get out of the bar, reaffirming my belief that something big was happening. It was cold as balls outside and I’d left my coat near the main entrance, but as soon as Frank started talking, I froze for a whole different reason.