A Flawed Diamond
Copyright© 2013 by Jay Cantrell
Chapter 69
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 69 - It’s been six years since Brock Miller and his friends left his adopted hometown. The angry boy has become a young adult, and life has taken him in a direction that none of them could have foreseen. But the scars from his troubled teens are deep – maybe too deep to allow him to find the most elusive of goals: a place to call home. [Sequel to "The Outsider."]
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual Romantic BiSexual Sports Safe Sex Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Slow Violence
Meredith was waiting for him outside the player's exit. The game had run long and she knew he would shower and dress as quickly as he could. Rather than head back to the hotel, she decided to wait for him. She was already thinking of how to congratulate him for his stellar performance.
She saw him frown when he saw her waiting for him but it didn't deter her.
"You were awesome!" she said, wrapping her arms around him.
"When did you plan to tell me about your TV appearance?" he asked.
"Oh, you heard about it?" she inquired. She wondered why he sounded so pissed off.
"Yeah, from a very unlikely source," Brock said. "I heard about it when the Tampa manager was waiting for me outside the locker room to brace me about his pitcher tipping pitches. Guess where he learned of that?"
"I don't know," Meredith said. "I didn't say anything like that on the air."
Brock took a deep breath and let it out, slowly.
"Meredith, the announcers are employed by the team, not the network," he said in a frustrated voice. "When you told the guys in the booth, you might as well have sat down beside Middleton in the dugout and whispered it in his fucking ear."
Meredith's face dropped.
"I ... I didn't know," she said softly.
"No, I'm sure you didn't," Brock said. "Because you didn't bother to tell me that you were going to sit in the booth and do play-by-play. If you had, I would have let you know and I would have alerted you to topics to stay away from. Now the next time I face Ernie Walsh, there's a good chance he's going to throw at my head. Hell, Middleton might have whoever starts plunk me. I might get confused and think I'm playing fucking Arizona again."
"I'm sorry," Meredith said, tears forming in her eyes.
"Why in hell would you say something like that anyway?" Brock asked.
"I ... I guess I was showing off," she admitted. "We were talking about different aspects of the game. They complimented me on my knowledge not just about the game but about both teams."
"Are you the one who told them about how well I hit him in the minors?" Brock asked.
"Well, uh, yeah," Meredith confessed. "I told them that you had played against him a bunch in the minors and you'd done well against him. They looked up the stats and gave them on the air. After you doubled in the third, when we were off the air and I was leaving, one of them said it looked like you knew exactly what was coming. He made a joke about the Dodgers having a spy in the outfield to look at signals and I told him that Walsh had some mannerism that let you know what he planned to throw. I didn't even consider that they'd send someone down to the dugout. I mean, I didn't know they even could do that."
"You should have told me you were going to do something like this," Brock said. "It would have been OK if you'd been in the Dodgers booth. Those guys are employed by us. Meredith, it is always a bad idea for you to give any information to another team."
"I know that!" Meredith said.
"Do you?" Brock asked. "Because today really doesn't lend credence to your contention. Is there anything else you have planned that I should know about?"
Meredith was quiet as they got into the taxi for the ride back to the hotel.
"The first photo shoot has been scheduled," she said softly.
"When?" Brock asked.
"Saturday in Miami," she admitted. "I was going to surprise you with the pictures. That's why Randi is coming down. I spoke to Mandy about it. She said I should always have a chaperone with me – that some of the photographers would try to pressure me into going farther than I want or they might even try to get me alone. I asked Randi to come down and she's bringing one of the female security team from the studio with her."
"So you were prepared to walk into a potentially dangerous situation without me even knowing about it?" Brock asked, tilting his head backward against the backseat. Then he considered the number of people who had probably ridden in the taxi since the last time it was cleaned and pulled his head forward.
"That's why I wanted Randi to bring security," Meredith said. "I wasn't going to go alone. I'm positive it would be fine. I spoke to the women from the magazine after I decided to come down here with you. She said that a photographer they use lives in Miami and would able to do it Saturday morning. I had Melanie work out a contract and the woman signed it. It gives me control of what photos will be kept."
"What sort of pictures are you planning to do?" Brock asked.
"Nothing risqué," Meredith said. "I plan to wear a sundress. We'll do the pictures in a market place that Emmy told me about. It will take about three hours."
"And you just planned to lie to me about where you were going and what you were doing?" Brock asked.
"No!" Meredith said. "I was going to tell you that I was going to a market that Emmy knew about. Randi and Erika were going with me. I doubted you'd want to go. Fine, it wasn't a good idea. I just wanted to surprise you when it went up on the web site. That's all this is for. It's just something for them to use online. If I get into the Top 10, we'll use the January shoot for it. I didn't think it was a big deal."
"Just like you didn't think today was a big deal," Brock said tiredly. "I've always said you're your own person and I wouldn't make decisions for you. I don't plan to start. But Meredith, you have to let me know these things. Can we at least agree on that?"
"I should have told you about going on TV and that I was meeting a photographer," she admitted. "I'm sorry. Really, I didn't think you'd be this upset."
"I wouldn't have been if you hadn't revealed confidential information," Brock said. "I wouldn't be upset about Saturday if you hadn't told me what Mandy said. Well, maybe I would have been. I read last month about an aspiring model in Nevada whose mutilated body turned up in the desert. It turns out she went out there with a photographer for pictures. He drugged her, raped her and killed her."
"Oh, God," Meredith said.
"Yeah," Brock replied. "I know this sounds condescending and I don't mean it to be. You're too trusting. The situation where you found yourself in New York is a prime example. You didn't think anything bad could happen and it almost did. Meredith, you should know better."
Meredith nodded but didn't speak. She was silently berating herself for doing what she'd promised herself she would never do. She had failed to consider how Brock might look at her actions – or even how they might affect him.
She heard him sigh beside her as they pulled up to the hotel. He paid the cabbie and they got out. The celebration Meredith had been planning for Brock's big game had completely disappeared from her mind.
Brock put his arm around Meredith as they boarded the elevator, removing it only when he pulled his wallet out of his suit pocket to retrieve the key card to enter the room. He went into the suite's bedroom to change into something more comfortable and found Meredith sitting on the couch when he came out in shorts and T-shirt.
"So you decided on a sundress for your photo shoot?" he asked.
Meredith nodded glumly. She wasn't sure if she could speak without breaking into tears so she sat silently. Brock sat down beside her and put his arm around her again.
"That's going to disappoint Josh," he replied.
Meredith turned slightly to look at him.
"He planned to make a life-size poster of you in a bikini to put on his bedroom door," Brock said with a smile. "He said it's because Mandy put the bobblehead of me at the head of the bed so I nod my approval each time she's doing something right."
Meredith smiled slightly but shook her head in wonder.
"I am really sorry," she said.
"Yeah, me, too," Brock answered. "I knew you didn't do anything on purpose. I was unnerved by having Joe Middleton confront me in the corridor. He caught me off-guard and I guess I took it out on you. I can't continue to do that. Once I got a minute to think about it, I realized it was nothing major. I over-reacted."
"No, I under-reacted," Meredith replied. "I should have thought about what I was doing. I should have at least talked to you beforehand – to get your opinion on it before I ever agreed.
"The same is true with the photos. I would be highly upset if I found out you planned to do something that might affect me without even bothering to tell me about it. I had promised myself that I would always try to think about how something I do might look to you. I didn't do that and I'm sorry."
"I understand that you're your own person," Brock said. "I didn't mean to come off sounding like I should be consulted on every decision you make."
"You should if it is something that might make you look bad – or if it might include me saying something that you don't want said," Meredith insisted.
"Maybe," Brock admitted. "But I don't really think so. You're allowed to have your own opinions and express them however you want. What bothered me is that I said something in confidence to my teammates that you overheard and repeated. The thing about Walsh isn't public knowledge. It isn't even something I've shared with every teammate I've ever had. Some people might consider it cheating, in fact."
"Then those people are stupid," Meredith protested. "It's not cheating. If he found out you couldn't get around on an inside pitch because of how you stood, he wouldn't have pulled you aside to help you correct it. And he sure as hell would have kept throwing pitches inside."
"I made that point," Brock admitted.
"And I knew it was a secret," Meredith confessed. "Like I said, I think I was just showing off. I felt like I needed to prove to them just how much I knew about baseball. I know it's stupid. I don't want to be viewed as just some bimbo who hooked onto some rich baseball player."
"What about the magazine photos?" Brock asked.
"It's weird," Meredith said with a frown. "Normally, I wouldn't be interested in something like that. I mean, it's flattering. I'll admit that. I know this sounds like I'm complaining but I'm really not. Honey, being your girlfriend or fiancée or wife isn't easy. So many people expect so many different things from me."
"Meredith, I don't care what anyone expects from you," Brock cut in, wrapping her tighter in his embrace. "I am happy with you just as you are. If you're doing something because you think I expect you to or because someone else thinks you should, then don't. If you want to do something because you want to do it, then fine. But I'm going to feel the same way about you regardless."
"I know that," Meredith said. "I really do. It's just, well, I'm not sure this is going to come out right."
"I'm not going to be mad," Brock replied. "Just say what you have to say. You can explain it if I take in a way you don't intend."
"I have a lot to live up to," Meredith said, sliding away from him. "Let me show you this."
She went to the bedroom and returned with her laptop. When she got it set up, she opened the browser to a sports-related blog site.
"These are the athletes with the best dating resume," she said. "You're on it at Number Four. They mention Chastity and Tara and even Randi. They also have a picture of you with Emmy and point out that you once dated Melanie Miles, an assistant district attorney. The only ones they don't mention are Susan and Jennifer. And they don't mention me. They say that you're off the market because some lucky lady has stolen your heart. But they never mention how we know each other or say a single word about me."
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