Delay of Game (The Baltimore Banners Book 6) by Lisa B. Kamps Page A
Authors: Lisa B. Kamps
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since the Banners are on the road." Val ignored the outraged gasp and turned away, mentally berating herself for the comment. What was wrong with her? She knew better, should have never let the woman get to her, especially not to that point.
Especially not when she knew part of their success was because The Maypole had become a hang-out for a lot of the team, in part because her brother, Randy, had been their major investor.
Major investor? Try only investor, especially after all the banks had turned them down. Nobody had wanted to take a chance on a sports bar geared for women, no matter how solid their business plan, no matter how untapped the market they were targeting.
Oh well, their loss. The Maypole had opened just over two years ago, a strong success from the first night they opened the doors. And yes, having her brother's teammates hang out here had certainly helped, especially at first. But even without them, the place was a success. If Val's comment upset the woman and she decided never to return, then oh well. Val wouldn't miss her.
But she couldn't afford to make a habit out of insulting the patrons, no matter what her reasons were.
If she even understood her reasons.
Val returned to the podium and the new arrivals waiting there, managing to get them seated without any more insults. But her attention kept drifting back to the television, her focus more on the game than anything else.
No, not the game. On Justin, and his unexpected phone call earlier.
She hadn't expected him to call. Almost didn't want him to call because she had no idea what to say to him, not after the other night.
When she pretty much tackled him then threw herself at him. In her office. Here. At work.
Even now, the memory brought heat to her face, and it wasn't just from embarrassment, either. No, definitely not just embarrassment. How was she supposed to act after doing something so…so…so completely out of character? It had been a blessing in disguise that he'd left for Buffalo the next day, that he wouldn't be here at the restaurant and she wouldn't have to figure out what to say or how to act or what to do.
And then he called. And he had sounded…different, somehow. Not quite as lonely, not quite as lost and desolate. And then she had to make that whole stupid comment about his headache. No, he hadn't been happy to hear that, not at all. Why couldn't she have just kept her big mouth shut? She was twenty-eight years old, she knew better than to just blurt out whatever was on her mind. She'd been dealing with that flaw her entire life, she should know better by now.
Except maybe it didn't really matter, because he had asked her out for dinner anyway. And he was playing tonight, too, not that that had anything to do with running her mouth. But he wasn't a scratch, and from what she could see, he was playing better than he had been the last few games.
From what she could see, which really wasn't much, not when she had to squint to see the television since she was all the way over here—
"Go. Sit. Watch the game."
Val whirled around, nearly jumping at the voice just behind her. Jodi Randall, her friend and business partner, stood there, making shooing motions with her hands.
"What? No, don't be ridiculous. I'm fine."
"No you're not. You've been standing over here all night, squinting at the television. Go watch the game."
Val didn't want to comment, not when she knew Jodi was right. It was better to change the conversation. "If you're here, who's going to be behind the bar with Darrin if he needs help?"
Jodi was a master mixologist, the brains behind their bar operation. And the question was obviously the wrong one to ask, if the scowl on Jodi's face meant anything. She shook her head, frowned in the direction of the bar, then pulled her blonde hair behind her, twisting it at her neck. Val had the impression that Jodi wanted to twist Darrin's neck instead.
"Darrin can manage perfectly well on his own."
"Uh-oh. Does that
Especially not when she knew part of their success was because The Maypole had become a hang-out for a lot of the team, in part because her brother, Randy, had been their major investor.
Major investor? Try only investor, especially after all the banks had turned them down. Nobody had wanted to take a chance on a sports bar geared for women, no matter how solid their business plan, no matter how untapped the market they were targeting.
Oh well, their loss. The Maypole had opened just over two years ago, a strong success from the first night they opened the doors. And yes, having her brother's teammates hang out here had certainly helped, especially at first. But even without them, the place was a success. If Val's comment upset the woman and she decided never to return, then oh well. Val wouldn't miss her.
But she couldn't afford to make a habit out of insulting the patrons, no matter what her reasons were.
If she even understood her reasons.
Val returned to the podium and the new arrivals waiting there, managing to get them seated without any more insults. But her attention kept drifting back to the television, her focus more on the game than anything else.
No, not the game. On Justin, and his unexpected phone call earlier.
She hadn't expected him to call. Almost didn't want him to call because she had no idea what to say to him, not after the other night.
When she pretty much tackled him then threw herself at him. In her office. Here. At work.
Even now, the memory brought heat to her face, and it wasn't just from embarrassment, either. No, definitely not just embarrassment. How was she supposed to act after doing something so…so…so completely out of character? It had been a blessing in disguise that he'd left for Buffalo the next day, that he wouldn't be here at the restaurant and she wouldn't have to figure out what to say or how to act or what to do.
And then he called. And he had sounded…different, somehow. Not quite as lonely, not quite as lost and desolate. And then she had to make that whole stupid comment about his headache. No, he hadn't been happy to hear that, not at all. Why couldn't she have just kept her big mouth shut? She was twenty-eight years old, she knew better than to just blurt out whatever was on her mind. She'd been dealing with that flaw her entire life, she should know better by now.
Except maybe it didn't really matter, because he had asked her out for dinner anyway. And he was playing tonight, too, not that that had anything to do with running her mouth. But he wasn't a scratch, and from what she could see, he was playing better than he had been the last few games.
From what she could see, which really wasn't much, not when she had to squint to see the television since she was all the way over here—
"Go. Sit. Watch the game."
Val whirled around, nearly jumping at the voice just behind her. Jodi Randall, her friend and business partner, stood there, making shooing motions with her hands.
"What? No, don't be ridiculous. I'm fine."
"No you're not. You've been standing over here all night, squinting at the television. Go watch the game."
Val didn't want to comment, not when she knew Jodi was right. It was better to change the conversation. "If you're here, who's going to be behind the bar with Darrin if he needs help?"
Jodi was a master mixologist, the brains behind their bar operation. And the question was obviously the wrong one to ask, if the scowl on Jodi's face meant anything. She shook her head, frowned in the direction of the bar, then pulled her blonde hair behind her, twisting it at her neck. Val had the impression that Jodi wanted to twist Darrin's neck instead.
"Darrin can manage perfectly well on his own."
"Uh-oh. Does that
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