Petite Madeleine: Drew's Story (Meadows Shore Book 3) Read Free

chuckled and shook his head. “Do you still keep in touch with her?”
    “Mm-hm. We talk almost every day. She’s having a torrid affair with an Aussie sailor. It might be serious. He’s an irreverent daredevil—it’s a match made in heaven.”
    “How about you, anyone special in your life?” He tried to sound casual, while bracing himself for bad news.
    “There are lots of special people in my life, but I’m not dating anyone right now.”
    I’m not dating anyone right now . He quietly let out a long, steady stream of air. There was a glimmer of hope, something for him to hang on to.
    “So how does it feel to be the youngest general manager in all of sports?”
    “You follow Boston sports?”
    “Of course not,” she scoffed making his lips curl. “But I read the newspaper. It was in all the papers.”
    “That title’s no longer mine. You know how it is, turn around and some young whippersnapper comes along and steals it right out from under you. Drew Harrington, the youngest GM in all of sports. Let’s grab a cold one and sit back, see how long it’ll take him to wet his pants and destroy the team,” he chuckled. “I was only too happy to give up that particular title.”
    “A lot of pressure.”
    He shrugged. “I love my job. What could make a guy happier than working for the team you followed your whole life? I got lucky. After I emerged from the black hole I’d climbed into, I took a job with the Blues’ grounds crew. It was exactly what I needed, demanding physical labor around a place and a game I loved. It gave me time to get some badly needed help, and finish school.”
    “Where did you finish?”
    “Harvard.”
    “Slumming?”
    He threw his head back and laughed. “Spoken like a true Brown alum.”
    “Forever true.”
    “Cass … you saved me. I was in a downward spiral straight into hell. I’ve never had a chance to thank you. Although I’m not sure how you can ever thank someone for saving your life.”
    “I didn’t do anything.” She shook her head. “I tried, but nothing I did seemed to help.”
    “You were twenty—barely—and you had your head on straight enough to ask for help. I was so broken, there’s no way you could have fixed me.”
    She took a deep breath, and on exhale her entire body seemed to relax. “I’m so glad it turned out well.”
    “Mostly well. But I lost something valuable, priceless, along the way.” He found her eyes and held on for dear life, until she cut the tether.
    “It was great to see you, and I’ve enjoyed catching up, but I’ve got to get to the bank before it closes.”
    “I’ve got to get back to the ballpark, too, before they think I’ve been abducted by an overzealous Orioles’ fan.”
    He brushed his finger over the top of her hand. “Have dinner with me tonight. I feel like we hit on just a few of the high notes. There’s so much more left to say.”
    “I’m up before dawn to bake, so I don’t normally go out during the week.”
    “I’ll even go somewhere that serves stuffed zucchini blossoms. Come on, how can you resist watching me eat delicate flowers? I’m sitting here shriveling just talking about it. You can take a picture of me munching on one, and send it to my brothers.”
    The corners of her mouth curled up softly, but the sad, faraway look in her eyes told a different story. “Call me after the game. Let’s see how late it is and…”
    He didn’t bother to wait until she finished before pulling out his phone. “What’s your number?”
    She surprised him by taking the phone from his hand and punching in the security code. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed her to take it from him, just like that. The phone held all his secrets, but more importantly, it held all the team’s. He never let anyone touch it.
    “You remember my password?”
    “Who could forget the date you hit your first home run? It was a grand slam. Your coach even let you get sprinkles on your ice cream cone after the game.”
    His