The Teacher's Billionaire

Sox.”
    Sounding surprised Dylan said, “You like baseball?”
    “Love it. I played Little League as a kid and then softball all through high school and college.”
    Dylan was silent for a minute. “The Yankees are playing the Sox again this weekend in Boston. I’m going to be in town. How about we go?”
    He wasn’t a New Englander, that was the only excuse Dylan could use for thinking he could get tickets to a game against
the
New York Yankees at Fenway Park at this late date. Any other team maybe, but not the Yankees. “There is no way you can get tickets now for any of those games. They’ve been sold out since tickets went on sale,” she tried to explain to him. The Yankees were the Red Sox biggest rivals.
    “Is that a yes? Because if it is, getting the tickets won’t be a problem.”
    He sounded so sure of himself that Callie almost believed him. But just almost. “Yes.” The thought of a night out with Dylan sent a shiver down her spine. “Who wouldn’t want to see those two teams play? I can’t believe you didn’t go tonight to the game.” If someone had invited her along she would’ve gone in heartbeat. Even if it was at Yankee Stadium, the home of the enemy.
    Something that sounded a bit like a sigh came through the phone. “I had more pressing matters to take care of.”
    Callie and Dylan spent the next two hours on the phone talking about everything from music to sports. Every once in a while one of them would make a comment about the game they’d both turned on during their conversation.
    “So I’ll see you Saturday,” Dylan said. The last out of the game had been called and to her delight and Dylan’s dismay, the Sox had won 7 to 1.
    “Are you that anxious to see your beloved Yankees lose again?” Switching off the television, she carried the rest of her pizza into the kitchen. “The Sox are playing both days so either is fine.” Callie didn’t fully believe he’d be able to get tickets that easily. “Saturday’s game is at night so if that works better for you that’s fine.”
    Her laughed touched him in a way he couldn’t explain, and he found himself wanting to kiss her again. “You might want to watch what you say. Roberts is pitching Saturday. He has a perfect record so far this season.”
    She laughed again. “Even the mighty must fall.”
    He could hear her smile. The thought sounded ridiculous, but it was true. Dylan could clearly picture her relaxing on the couch with her dog next to her and smiling.
    You’re getting sentimental in your old age, Talbot
.
    “We’ll see about that, Miss Taylor.”
    After ending the call, Dylan gazed down at the city below and suddenly felt very alone. It was an alien feeling for him. And he didn’t know where it came from. Without wanting to ask why, he also knew that he didn’t want just anyone there with him. While he knew plenty of women in the city who would happily keep him company for the night, he knew none of them would do. He wanted a certain dark haired schoolteacher from Massachusetts who loved baseball.
    She’s Warren’s daughter.
    Raking his hands through his hair, Dylan went to his well-stocked bar. After pouring himself a glass of scotch, he wandered into his home office. It was actually his favorite room in his penthouse. He’d designed it to resemble his grandfather’s office at the family’s ancestral estate in England, complete with oak paneled walls and heavy dark furniture. It was a complete contrast to the rest of the penthouse. The last woman he dated had continuously urged him to redecorate it. Make it look more modern. Make it fit with the rest of the apartment. Even his half-brother, Jake, ribbed him about the room, referring to it as his uptight stuffy English office.
    What would Callie think of it? What would she think of the rest of his place?
    Cold. The single word popped into his head. She would find his place cold and impersonal. Unlike her tiny apartment there were no personal touches. Everything was sleek and sophisticated. So different from her place that was filled with color and pictures of family and friends. The only photos he had were tucked away in his office, away from the eyes of visitors.
    Oddly he’d never really thought about it before. Now though he wasn’t sure he liked it.
    The ringing cell phone in his pocket pulled Dylan away from his thoughts. Before answering he checked the caller ID.
    Phillips. Hell.
    Taking one more sip of his scotch, Dylan pressed the talk