Somebody Like You (Starlight Hill Series Book 2) Read Free

hometown of Starlight Hill in Napa Valley. The word is he’s scouting a location to start a vineyard. The pitcher retired from the Oakland Sliders after a year of injuries and surgeries on his nearly shredded shoulder. But the fact is even though he’s not even thirty, the former darling of baseball had outlived his usefulness on the mound. So if wine making is in his future, we hope he can press grapes better than he can pitch a no-hitter. The last time he pitched a no-hitter…
    Cockroaches. Vile filth. Billy set down the newspaper and grabbed a pack of beef jerky instead.
    “No paper?” The checker said, ringing up the milk without even looking at Billy.
    “I’ll find something else to line my bird cage,” he grunted.
    That’s when the man glanced up. “Holy shit, Billy Turlock. In my store. Crap, hold up dude. Would you take a picture with me? Hey, Dad. Get out here, would you? Look at this.”
    Damn, that was nice. He should stop reading the sports section, like his older brother Wallace suggested. People were so much better. Before long some of the customers had congregated to ask for autographs and a photo or two. Or three. Of course Billy posed for pictures but he insisted on paying for the purchases, even if the owner wanted to give them to him on the house. He might not have a million dollar contract to look forward to this year, or any other year again for that matter, but he wasn’t exactly in the poor house.
    He wouldn’t be playing baseball anymore, but he’d find something to do with the rest of his life. He was almost sure of it.
    Of course, this winemaking situation was a bit tenuous at best. But who was Billy to deny his grandfather’s dream? Hadn’t Pop been at every game since Little League? It was certainly time to come back to his hometown and reward their support by sinking some money into the economy. Why not a vineyard?
    Some of the customers followed him outside. “Is it true you’re moving back?”
    “I am back, and it’s good to be home again.” Billy threw the gallon of milk in the passenger seat of his convertible.
    “You opening a sports bar?” One of the men asked.
    “Not exactly, but you’re in the ball park.” Billy said, opening the door. Everyone got a kick out of that double entendre. “A vineyard.”
    “Another vineyard?” Billy heard someone say. “Like we need more of those.”
    “How’s that like a sports bar?” Someone else muttered.
    Billy didn’t know the answer to that question, so he didn’t even try. He hopped in his car and ripped open the bag of jerky. Eventually everyone wandered back in the store or went about their business, waving goodbye.
    Vineyards.
    He didn’t know the first thing about them, other than the fact he’d grown up in Starlight Hill.  But Pop said a private label vineyard was the way to go. A family business. Even if Billy’s mother’s side of the family was proudly of Scottish descent, filled with men that had likely never even come close to the grape, Pop said he knew what he was doing. Billy believed him, even if he realized he’d probably be seeing a lot more articles like the one in the paper today. Retired pitchers were supposed to open sports bars and fade quietly into the background. Certainly not try to resuscitate an old vineyard.
    His cellphone rang, and he could see by the caller ID it was Gigi, his publicist. Checking up on him again since it’d been all of thirty minutes since they’d last spoken. “What now?”
    “Just checking up on my favorite ball player.”
    “Right. Well, it’s been thirty minutes and no, I haven’t fathered an illegitimate child yet. The minute I do, you’ll be the first to know.” Billy punched her in on the speaker phone, and drove out of the parking lot.
    “Don’t make fun of me because I try to protect you from those women.”
    Gigi referred to those women as baseball’s version of gold diggers, and by now Billy could recognize them as well. He didn’t need Gigi’s