The Game Changer: A Novel (25 page)

We moved into our new apartment the following morning, and Jack was on a flight that evening. But not before building our new bed frame, two sets of bookshelves, and a new dresser. He promised he’d put together everything so I wouldn’t have to.

I adored the man he was becoming for me.

For us.

Chicago Friday finally rolled around, and I landed at Midway airport around four. Jack’s game at Wrigley didn’t start until seven thirty, but he was already at the field. I hopped a cab to the hotel like Jack insisted and watched the city come into view. Even through the backseat window, I sensed the difference between this city and New York. I assumed they’d be similar, but they weren’t.

Both cities had numerous tall buildings, but that was pretty much where their similarities ended. While New York appeared dirty and lived in, Chicago was spotless and trash free, newer maybe. And where New York buzzed with constant energy, Chicago exuded more of a gentle hum.

I checked in at the hotel on the bank of the Chicago River and ordered room service while I killed time before the game. I looked out the window at the water down below and the city that surrounded me. Chicago had a style all its own, and I smiled as I thought about capturing it with my camera. I’d have plenty of time for that tomorrow.

When I arrived at the stadium, I almost spent the entire evening staring at the
WRIGLEY FIELD, HOME OF THE CHICAGO CUBS
sign. It was such a classic piece of baseball memorabilia that I found myself awed by it. I took a few shots of the aged red-and-white sign, loving everything about it, before picking up my lone ticket waiting for me at guest relations. I passed through the dark entrance, lost in the excitement of a new-to-me stadium.

Once inside, I wandered alone, going the wrong direction at first before turning around. I wondered if any of the mean girls would be here. Aside from Trina, there wasn’t anyone I wanted to see. Three text messages later, and I found out Trina was still out of the country on her job. I scanned the row of green seats searching for mine. I dropped into my chair before looking around. I found myself surrounded by a few pretty, college-aged girls, but no one that looked familiar. My shoulders relaxed at the absence of any mean girls. I didn’t realize how stressed out they made me feel until they weren’t around.

Without the distraction of the usual fans or the mean wives, I concentrated completely on watching Jack play. The way he focused always impressed me. He seemed like another person entirely when he stood on that mound of dirt. He blocked out every sound, every shout, every yell, and zoned in one hundred percent on the batter standing sixty feet away.

And when he gave up a hit, he gathered his composure and refocused his energy, unlike some of the other pitchers who became completely rattled when someone got a hit off them. In a game in which your state of mind could make or break you, Jack had the ability to keep it together. His temper off the field never translated on it. Jack always moved forward, putting the last play behind him and focused on the next one.

His passion and sheer respect for the game he loved only made me love him more. I admired the way Jack played ball. It showed a lot of internal character to pitch the way he did. He was focused, determined, and played with a full heart. How can you not love that?

When the game ended, I asked three different security guards for directions to the visiting team’s locker room. With my ID card in hand, I wandered underground and waited for Jack to emerge. It
was odd being the only person waiting. Players started to walk out of the locker room, each one flashing me a quick smile before walking away. I wondered if they even knew who I was. I hadn’t really met any of the players since Jack, and I didn’t spend time with them socially.

Trina’s boyfriend Kyle walked out, and I smiled. “Hey, Cass. Jack’s on his way out,” he said, before giving me a quick hug.

“Thanks. Tell Trina I miss her.”

He laughed. “I sure will. See you later.” He waved as he walked down the corridor out of view.

Jack walked out moments later, his hair still wet from the shower. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed. “Great game, babe.”

“Thanks,” he whispered before kissing my lips.

He led me outside where the team bus rumbled. “I’m sorry you have to take a cab back to the hotel.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. I should be able to ride with you instead of sending you off alone at eleven o’clock on a Friday night.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” I tried to reassure him, but I sensed that he was uncomfortable.

“I’ll wait with you until you get a cab.” He grabbed my hand and walked me toward the busy street.

“You don’t have to do that, Jack. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Half the team isn’t even out of the locker room yet. It’s fine.”

Hailing a cab took longer than I anticipated. It was a Friday night and the majority of the taxis driving past me were already filled with passengers. I started to worry that Jack would have to leave me alone when an empty cab came our way and Jack hailed it.

“Thanks, baby.” I craned my neck up to give him a kiss before hopping inside.

“I’ll see you at the hotel,” he said before shutting my door for me.

I arrived before the team bus, so I stepped inside the grand lobby and waited. I almost headed into the bar when Jack’s warning coursed through my mind.

Don’t look in there, Cass. Jack told you not to look.

But the team’s not even here yet. What could I possibly see?

I argued with myself mentally before caving and turning my head to peer inside the bar area. I spotted the three college girls who were sitting near me during the game. One of the girls waved her hand in my direction as if recognizing me from earlier, and I quickly averted my eyes.

Holy shit. Those girls were sitting in the player ticket section?

The team barreled into the hotel lobby, making a loud scene as they entered. I scanned the burly men, searching for Jack. Kymber’s husband passed by me without a glance, and I watched as he turned into the bar.

No fucking way.

I observed the scene unfolding like a car crash before my eyes. I couldn’t look away if I tried. He sauntered into the bar as one of the blonde girls hopped up from her stool and into his arms. She giggled as he gripped her ass, giving it a couple of smacks, much to her delight. She wrapped her legs around his waist, planting kisses all over his lying, cheating, rat-bastard face. Two more players, both married, entered the bar and a similar scene unfolded. I wanted to puke.

My jaw dropped wide open as all the feelings of Jack cheating on me poured into my bloodstream. My stomach churned, threatening to empty its contents all over the shiny tile floor. Jack suddenly
appeared in front of me, his expression grim. “I told you not to look in the bar, Kitten. I told you.”

“Holy shit.” I shook my head, still shocked at the blatant display of infidelity and my own hellish flashbacks.

Jack grabbed my arm and led me toward the elevator. “That’s why I said no bar. And that’s why we’re on a different floor than they are. So you don’t have to see that shit. Come on.”

I stumbled as I tried to keep pace with Jack, who was clearly desperate to remove me from the area. “I can’t believe they act that way in public. Aren’t they worried about getting caught?”

Jack eyed me. “Not here.”

“Huh?”

Jack’s lips tightened. “We’re not talking about this here. Wait until we’re in our room.”

“Oh.” I sighed.

Stepping out of the elevator, we walked down the long corridor toward our room. I ran my fingers across the wallpaper as Jack pressed the card key into the slot. With two clicks, he pushed on the door, holding it for me to enter before he followed. He lay down on top of the bed.

“They aren’t worried about getting caught because everyone already knows.”

“You’re trying to tell me that Kymber the bitch knows her husband is a cheating piece of shit?” I asked, my tone clearly reflecting my disbelief.

He huffed. “Not in so many words, but yeah.”

“So she knows he’s cheating on her, and what? She just doesn’t care?”

I couldn’t fathom how anyone in their right mind wouldn’t care about being betrayed in that way. What kind of relationship was that anyway?

“I don’t know if she really knows, but I know she suspects it.”

“And she doesn’t care enough to find out for sure?”

“She probably doesn’t really want to know the answer. The reality is that a lot of these guys cheat on their wives, Kitten. It’s a really shitty fact, but it’s the truth. And yeah, the wives usually know, but they just pretend it’s not happening.”

“Like they’re in denial?” I shook my head, still trying to comprehend it all. I thought about Kymber and her crew of mean girls, and felt sorry for them.

“Either that or they just pretend it’s not happening because they like their lives.”

I shook my head, refusing to believe such craziness. “No way. All the material things they get are more important to them than being respected, or treated well, or truly loved?”

“I think it’s really easy to get accustomed to a certain lifestyle. And they’d rather not give it up.” He tousled his dark hair before pressing his head against the wall.

That entire concept seemed foreign to me. I wondered what caused a person to convince themselves that the trade-off was worth it. Who needed self-esteem and self-worth when you had big diamonds and expensive clothes? “Well, don’t you get any ideas, Mr. Carter, because that kind of crap will never fly with me.”

My eyes started to mist, my heart aching with the realization that he already did do that to me. The whole cheating, my knowing about it, basically accepting it, and welcoming him back with open arms. It all happened.

“Kitten, I would never do to you what they’re doing to their wives. I think they’re assholes. Especially the guys with kids.” He patted the bed. “Come here.”

I moved to lie down next to him, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “I know you aren’t like those other women.
And I wouldn’t like you if you were.” His lips pressed against the side of my head. “I made a mistake before, but it won’t happen again. I know you’d leave me forever if I did and I can’t…” he paused, “I
won’t
lose you again.”

Cassie

J
ack and I fell into a comfortable routine over the next six weeks. Matteo accompanied me to every home game, and the heckling basically stopped. Until Jack garnered his first lost for the team, that is. That night I was forced to hear a few choice things about how much “Jack sucked” and how I needed to “get his head on straight.” The hard-core fans were rabid. When you won, they loved you so fiercely you could do no wrong. But the moment you lost, they stepped all over you on their way out the door.

We talked on the phone constantly when he traveled. He wanted me to come to as many away games as I could, but it wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be. I spent most of my time wandering alone in a strange city or eating by myself in restaurants. From the outside, it seems so glamorous to be the girlfriend of a major leaguer, but it’s mostly sort of lonely. Not to mention the fact that seeing the other players constantly cheat on their wives made me sick to my stomach.

I had small bouts of insecurity every now and then, but I did my best to keep my fears in check. Jack tried his best as well, staying on the phone with me until all hours of the night, opting for room service instead of going out with the guys, no matter how many times I told him not to.

Baseball kept Jack gone for literally half of each month. The most consecutive number of days he’d been home at one time was seven.

Seven.

Trust was a tricky thing. At times, it seemed like a living, breathing entity that I shaped, built, and conformed to fit my needs in that moment. And other times, it moved like an uncontrollable emotion that ebbed and flowed like the tides in the ocean. One day I’d be perfectly fine and the next I’d be a wreck, convinced that Jack was no better than his teammates.

I wished our relationship were easier, but we were a work in progress. The hardest part was being OK with that. I had a choice when Jack first came back. I didn’t have to let him through my front door, but I wanted to. I needed to move forward and believe that he wouldn’t hurt me again. My heart longed to accept his actions and take a leap of faith, but my head refused to give in.

Stupid head.

Jack being on the road didn’t mean that the online posts about us stopped. They didn’t. And no matter how hard I tried to convince myself not to read them, I usually couldn’t resist. My own curiosity killed me. I’d read the things written about me or Jack and I’d swear I’d never read them again because they caused me so much anguish. It became a vicious self-deprecating cycle, and I needed to work on my willpower.

And Melissa, bless her heart, didn’t always help matters. She kept tabs on every site that posted about me or Jack, and even though she claimed to not share them all with me, it seemed like she alerted me to a new post every day. I was exhausted simply hearing about it all.

Determined to stay focused on work and not the press, I scanned the Internet at my desk, searching through old photographs
and news clippings for another photographer’s research. An e-mail alert from Matteo popped up on my screen.

Want to grab lunch today? I have no clients and Jack’s still out of town.

I almost typed back “Yes,” but stopped myself. I enjoyed Matteo’s company, and we’d become really good friends, but I knew what would happen. Someone would see us together and take our picture. That picture would be plastered all over the Internet within minutes and most likely printed in the paper the next day with some false headline and trumped-up story from an “anonymous source.”

I hated feeling like I couldn’t go anywhere with anyone when Jack was out of town, but all it took was one headline that screamed “While Jack’s Away, Cassie Will Play” to stop me. The headline was printed above a picture of me and Matteo laughing over dinner and resulted in a number of Internet accusations, not to mention my needing to reassure Jack that absolutely nothing fishy was going on between Matteo and me.