Worth the Trade (More Than A Game) by Kristina Mathews

“But I knew my modeling career would be short lived, so I couldn’t afford to be cut off. You know, with nothing but my face, and my body to support me.”
    “Your father would have cut you off if you’d gotten serious with Marco?”
    “He would have cut me off if he’d even found out I was dating Marco.” She leaned closer, as if she was about to reveal a huge secret. “I wasn’t twenty-one yet, so I had that as an excuse for not going to clubs and places where we’d be photographed.”
    “So what did you do together?” She shouldn’t have asked.
    “I’d watch his games. Then we’d hang out. Order room service.” Annabelle sighed deeply.
    Hunter really shouldn’t have asked.
    “But mostly we’d talk. He was the first guy who actually noticed I had a brain. And interests of my own.” She fidgeted with her sunglasses, twirling them around by one earpiece. “You know, he’s really smart, too. He’d been working on finishing his degree even while playing in the minors. Did you know that?”
    “Yes. I did.”
    “He wanted to be sure he had something to fall back on. Wanted to make sure he could take care of his mother.”
    Was there something wrong with his mother?   Maybe that was something else adding to his distraction.
    “She always took care of him, sometimes working two jobs to make ends meet. The biggest reason he wanted to make the big leagues was so that she’d never have to worry about money again.” She sighed. “Isn’t that sweet?”
    “Yes. That is sweet.” Hunter’s heart did a crazy little lurch, both at the thought of Marco as a mama’s boy and the reminder of her own loss.
    “I forget sometimes that not everyone grows up like we did.” Annabelle placed her sunglasses on the top of her head, like a headband.
    “I’m pretty sure most people didn’t grow up like I did.” Hunter had mixed feelings about her childhood. “When I was a kid, of course, I thought everyone spent all their spare time at the ballpark. Then as I got older, I realized I was missing out on things. A dinner table. Chores. A mom.”
    “That’s right. You lost your mom when you were little. Like six or seven?”
    “Seven.” But her mother had been almost a ghost even before then. She was often shut up in her room with the blinds closed, not feeling well or too tired to play with Hunter most of the time.
    “And twenty years later, you lost your father. I’m so sorry.”
    “Yes. Well, it is what it is.” Hunter blinked back the tears and started shuffling some papers on her desk.”
    “At least you had a great relationship with your father.” Now Annabelle was the one to blink back tears. “The kind every girl dreams of.”
    “I don’t know about that. I always got the feeling he wished I’d been a boy.” Hunter knew she was loved, but he’d loved the game more. “And I don’t know how many girls wished they could spend their childhoods in a locker room full of sweaty men only to be banned once they got their breasts.”
    “He was just trying to protect you. At least your boobs aren’t sitting in your father’s friends’ desk drawers. Or worse, framed in their office.” She shuddered. “When I graduated high school, my father couldn’t tear himself away from work to show up. But when I made the cover you’d think he was the one who spent hours out in the freezing cold wearing nothing but a skimpy piece of cloth and being spritzed with cold water to make it look like sweat.”
    “Aren’t you proud of your work?”
    Annabelle gave her a puzzled look. “You’re the first person to realize modeling is actually a job. No. I guess you’d be the second.”
    One good guess at the first. Marco.
    “So? Are you proud of your work?”
    “Yes,” Annabelle said softly. “Yes, I am proud of my work. And it was hard work. You have no idea how hard it is to try and look sexy when there are all these people watching you and giving you directions. Sometimes it was hard not to feel