The Casual Rule Read Online Free Page A

never taking her eyes off of Ben. Maybe I should give her my napkin so she can wipe the drool off her chin. I look at our table of small savory foods on colorful intricately patterned ceramic plates.  The presentation itself is a work of art. They say you eat with your eyes first; my appetite is sated from the visual alone.
    Ben explains each plate of tapas on our table. Some are blatantly obvious. Does he think I’ve never seen an olive before? He seems so nice. I have to keep reminding myself that somewhere behind the good looks and charm is the same idiot who called me out at Central Park. At least he doesn’t recognize me as the stalker gawker.
    “I read through your manuscript. I love the premise. Behind the scenes stories of the Mets is brilliant. How did you get access to so many people in the know? You have everyone from groundskeepers and batboys to security guards and upper management.”
    “I had a connection.”
    “Who?”
    “My father does business with some of the higher ups in the organization. They hooked me up with the right people. The rest is history.”
    So he’s good looking and rich. Figures.
    “You know people in the organization?”
    “Yes, well, a few.”
    “Impressive.” I nod.
    “I don’t know if it’s impressive, but it certainly opened doors that otherwise would have been closed shut. I was grateful for the help.”
    “When I first read your manuscript, I expected to see a lot about the World Series games. They were presented so well in your writing. I enjoyed reading about the nicknames some of the groundskeepers gave the players. I haven’t read that anywhere else.”
    “You read books about baseball?”
    “I read books about the Mets. I come from a long line of diehard Mets fans, as I suppose you probably do.”
    “Actually, I’m a Yankees fan.”
    A Yankees fan? It figures…
    “And they still hooked you up with insiders?”
    “Yes, they don’t hold it against me.” He laughs.
    “I might,” I answer sarcastically.
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” he coos as he pops an olive in his mouth. I really wish he’d stop eating— it’s very distracting, drawing all my attention to his lips, his luscious, perfect lips. How’s a girl supposed to act professionally with a man who looks like this across the table?
    I clear my throat, redirecting my attention from his lips to his eyes. I never noticed the tiny golden flecks in his eyes before. Okay, now I’m lost in his eyes. Damn him. Damn me. Okay, I’m acting like an ass. I’m a professional. I have to behave like one. I straighten up my posture. “Vivian and I feel that your book has terrific technical merit. However, we think that a few chapters need some retooling.”
    “Retooling? You mean a rewrite?” He frowns.
    “Yes, some minor revisions to make a better story. It needs to be playful, you know, a little sexy.”
    “Sexy? It’s a book about baseball.”
    “Baseball can be very sexy. Romantic even.”
    “Can you explain to me what is sexy about a game with nine players on two teams covered in dirt and sweat, adjusting their cups and spitting?” he asks, his finger tapping on the table. He looks a little pissed.
    “The game depends on the skills, energy, and frame of mind of the two teams playing. Take the game you described in chapter five.”
    “What about it? It’s an accurate description.” His posture stiffens.
    “Yes. But it’s too mechanical, too precise. There’s no sexy. In the first inning you have a player on third, another on second. The batter grounds the ball. The shortstop grabs the ball and throws it home.”
     “Ah yes, the sex is oozing,” he scoffs as he rolls his eyes.
    I take a big swig of sangria. He’s not going to frighten me off with his demeaning eye rolling. I know what I’m talking about. “What’s sexy is the push and pull, like a relationship between a man and a woman, should I, shouldn’t I? Do I try to move up the bases, or retreat back? Get inside their heads.