Julia London Read Online Free Page B

to do with his social life ruining him on the
field. Shit. He really should have read that article.
    “Apparently, the
city has a lot to offer you,” Kelly said with a bit of a smirk, and Guido laughed.
“I mean, a ballplayer. The ladies love a ballplayer.”
    He shrugged, smiled a little. “I
haven’t read the article, but you can’t believe much of anything you read these
days.”
    “So you’re not involved with anyone?”
    He blinked, trying to figure out her
angle. Guido laughed. “He thinks you want to date him, Kelly.”
    “I guess he
would, since according to the Daily News , every single woman who can still draw
breath wants to date him.”
    “I, ah . . . that sort of rumor goes around all the time. In
Houston, in New York—it doesn’t seem to matter. They always say the same
thing.”
    “Really? I thought maybe your nighttime habits are a contributing
factor.”
    “A contributing factor?”
    “You know, to why your batting
average has sunk from a high of .349 just two seasons ago to a low of .277 this
year.”
    Guido howled, punched a button, and the sound of a big sucking whoosh filled the booth.
    “I don’t think my social life has anything to do with it,” Parker said
evenly.
    “Then to what would you attribute your slide? Because you were a much better
batter in Houston than you are here.” And Kelly smiled a warm, sweet little
smile.
    Guido laughed.
    Parker’s blood was beginning to boil. “That’s an interesting
theory,” he said, forcing himself to sound as pleasant as possible. “But my trainer seems
to think it’s more to do with the shoulderinjury I suffered when I
caught the game-winning drive up the middle against the Phillies. I landed on the second
base bag and tore my rotator cuff.”
    “Right, I saw it,” she said, nodding eagerly. “But before that, you had eight errors coming into a midseason series, compared with a
total of twelve errors across your entire last season with the Astros. And we haven’t even
hit the All-Star Break yet. At this rate, you’ll hit a record of . . . what did we figure
out, Guido?”
    “Twenty-two errors,” Guido responded helpfully.
    “I had
twenty-four errors one season in Houston, and I was MVP. You can’t really compare the
number of errors from year to year, because it depends on what team you are playing, who
is pitching, what the conditions are, that sort of thing. And, you know, you have to
factor in shoulder injuries that are slow to recover.”
    “So, Parker, what do you like to do
in your spare time?” she asked, all sweetness and light as she changed the
subject.
    “I have a charity for underprivileged kids,” he said, and gave some of the
particulars about that, for which Guido actually sounded a standing O.
    “Anything
else?”
    “I lay pretty low,” he said, not wanting to give her anything.
    “Do you like to
read?”
    Okay, now she was really beginning to piss him off. His eyes
narrowed. So did hers. “Yeah, I like to read. I just read the History of Sports in
America. ”
    “Oh really? How long did that take you?”
    Suddenly, in the hallway behind
Kelly, which Parker could see because the wall was made of glass, Frank appeared and
started making frantic slashing motions across his throat.
    “I don’t know—I
savored it.”
    “Do you ever think about hitting a batting cage?” she asked, cheerfully
changing the subject again.
    “I practice batting thirty minutes every day.”
    “Oh, that long, huh? And how long do you practice fielding?”
    Parker didn’t
answer.
    “I’m only asking because a couple of your more spectacular errors were on
your glove. That huge overthrow to first in the second game with the Phillies, then that
line drive you just completely muffed in the series against the Angels that allowed two
runs to score—”
    “I remember,” he said, his jaw tight and his gaze narrowed on her smiling
assassin face. “I’ve had a slump, there’s no doubt about it. I am working with