Hector (Season One: The Ninth Inning #3) Read Online Free Page A

going to lie, part of me worried she wouldn’t actually show up. I can’t seem to figure her out, and after attempting to get her name for two months, I feel like at any moment, she’ll pull the rug from under my feet and pull a disappearing act.
    We slide into opposite sides of a booth, a waitress appearing quickly. The place is pretty dead, only four other tables occupied, but it’s not too surprising considering the time of night. We make small talk until after we’ve placed our orders.
    “How were the games?” Zoey asks. “I heard they were okay.”
    “Lost all but one, so okay is an overstatement. We didn’t play badly, but we didn’t play well either. How’s work been without me?” I grin. My smile is my best feature, according to previous girls, so I’m hoping it’ll work on her too.
    Zoey shrugs. “Oh, you know, drunks, college kids, and then a few crazy girls. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before or can’t handle.”
    “So what do you do outside of work?” I’m so eager to get to know the person away from the bar; I’m practically like a dog panting on a hot day after running around.
    “I...well…” For the first time since I’ve met her, Zoey seems nervous, her eyes unsure as she glances at me and then down at the table. “I’m kind of an artist.”
    “Really? What type of kind of artist are you?”
    “I draw, paint, or sketch whatever comes to mind based on what I’m feeling. Aunt Minnie thinks I’m great, but I haven’t sold anything yet. That’s why I say kind of . I don’t think you can call yourself an artist when only your family thinks you're good.”
    Her statement makes me think about my childhood and when I first started playing baseball. Hopefully, I can say something that’s actually more encouraging than some ramblings. Maybe it was all the rejection at first, but Zoey makes me slightly nervous. “If you’re good, you’re good,” I begin. “It’s not exactly the same thing, but I sucked for a long time when I first started playing. My family still thought I was the best, even when I wasn’t. It didn’t make me any less of a baseball player,” I say, making my main point. “Just because you haven’t sold anything yet doesn’t mean you aren’t an artist. You draw, paint, and sketch. You’re an artist.”
    “I understand what you mean, but until someone buys a painting from me, then I’m a chick who plays with paint.”
    Well, my point wasn’t taken. “If you say so.”
    “What about you, Hector? What do you do besides stalk bartenders and play baseball?”
    “During the season, I pretty much just hang out with my teammates. And then in the offseason, I go to Miami to visit my family and sometimes travel to other places. I’m on the go so much with playing, that sometimes I like not going anywhere for a while. Other than that, I watch other sports a lot.”
    “So, your whole life is baseball, sports, and family? It doesn’t seem like much. You don’t have any hobbies?” she asks.
    “I told you I’m simple. I’ve never really ventured far from baseball, so I don’t really have any other hobbies.” When I find something I love and I do well, I tend to stick to it.
    “Aunt Minnie says if you’re working at something you love doing, then you’re not really working. If you love baseball, then you’re not working,” she giggles, causing me to grin. God, I love her laugh.
    “Your aunt sounds very wise. They live nearby, right?” I want to know whatever she’ll tell me about her life.
    “Yes. My aunts have a place right outside the city. Aunt Lanny likes gardening and Aunt Minnie is more of an indoor lady, but together, they’re perfect. They’ve been together forever.”
    “Are they baseball fans?” If so, then that could help me with any possible meetings in the future. “Would I make the cut as a possible suitor?”
    “Suitor?” she laughs incredulously. “This isn’t the 1800s, Hector. And no, we’re not huge sports fans.