“Last night I had some trouble with Rue’s grandmother,” I say in a conspiratorial voice, not having to fake the eyeroll. “Mothers, right?”
“Been there,” he mutters, his fingers flying over the keys before he writes something down on the pad beside him. “Okay, then. I have a car coming for you, since the parking in that neighborhood is abysmal, and it would be better for you to leave yours safe in the garage.”
“Whatever you think is best.”
He stares at me, eyes framed by glitter, fingers tapping thoughtfully on the desk. “He must have made an impression for you to be going out of your way like this.”
“He’s a good guy. And it’s for charity. Anyone would do the same.”
“Doubtful. But you are right about him. From everything I’ve heard and seen, he is a very good man. I doubt he’d have been accepted into our little club if he weren’t.”
I grin. “Between you and me, I’m still not sure how George got in.”
Mr. Gordon mimes locking his mouth closed with his fingers. “I’ll do nothing to spoil his bad reputation while he’s away. Undeserved though it may be.”
Undeserved? Has he seen George’s magazine collection? Rue has, and explaining to her that some comics were meant for adults only was not easy. “That’s a shame.”
He adjusts his glasses with a distracted air, and I feel like there’s something he isn’t saying. “Anything wrong, Mr. G?”
“I know you mean well, but you won’t be here that much longer, so if I may offer some unsolicited advice? Have a care with Mr. Redmond.” He looks down at his desk, obviously deliberating. “He hides it with humor, but I get the impression that he has a tender heart. I suppose he strikes me as someone who could use some looking after.”
Somewhere on that laptop is information to back that up, I’m sure. Those security guys are as thorough as an anal probe and just as invasive. Also Mr. Gordon seems to know things that he shouldn’t.
But didn’t I sense that? Joey’s tender heart? And those knots crowding his shoulders aren’t just from unpacking. He needs someone to have his back. Someone to look out for him, who doesn’t secretly use him to get off. “I’ve got it covered.”
Keeping an eye out for Joey doesn’t feel like any kind of hardship. Maybe in the process his Manny mojo will rub off on me enough to make me the father Rue needs me to be while I’m deciding where we go from here.
It doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.
Chapter Six
Joey
While JD and his friend Fiona banter over the breakfast menu, I can’t help rehashing what I learned on the drive over.
Elliot, aka EJ Ransom, aka Flash.
Flash? Really? No one sees his resemblance to the other guy?
It has something to do with his fastball. He’s spent almost five years in the big leagues, gone to three playoffs and owned a few most valuable player awards. Not a showboat off the field or a household name, but in certain circles, he’s kind of a big deal.
Oh, and he’s a pitcher. A pitcher. Because the universe is taunting me.
The rumor mill was apparently churning as to the reasons why his replacement took over for him halfway into the season. Everyone agreed it had to be something big, because the EJ they knew was “all about the game.”
Either the reporters were respecting his privacy or he’s got a crack team that’s managing to keep it off the radar, because Derek didn’t mention knowing anything about a daughter.
That’s good news, as far as I’m concerned. I can’t imagine how much harder it would be to get to know Rue under a constant spotlight.
Derek doesn’t just know everything about baseball, he also knows this city like the back of his hand. Impulsively hiring him might be the best decision I ever made. All I had to do was pick a topic and he turned into my own personal Wikipedia.
On Bellamy House:
“The police chief caused a stir when he announced it at the same event where he was reinstated and came out on camera. Busy day, but he was smart to do it like that, since all that publicity ended up being good for the project. The whole city came together for those poor kids.”
On the Finns:
“The best people you could know. Period. It doesn’t matter to me what they do in their personal lives or who they love. That family is full of heroes.”
This wasn’t really new information. I already knew that Bellamy Demir—husband to one of those heroic Finns—had funded the build for the youth center extension and started the foundation to keep it running. I knew that children and young mothers had gotten help there that they hadn’t been able to find at the temporary shelters or through an already overburdened social work system.