“Why do they hire pretty girls to sell hot dogs?” Dan asked his teammate, Jake Lawrence, in the next shower stall.
“Guess they sell more dogs,” Jake said, lathering up his hair.
“That must be it. The new one I just met is fine.”
“Yeah? What about what’s-her-name?”
“That’s it. What about her?”
“This girl sells hot dogs, Jake. Get real. You don’t think Mr. All Star Pitcher would hook up with a Hot Dog Girl, do you?” Matt Jackson piped up from the other room.
“If she’s hot, and he’s a horndog, sure. Why not?” Jake said, rinsing off.
“She didn’t look like a Hot Dog Girl,” Dan said, wrapping a towel around his hips.
“Probably one of Bud’s charity cases,” Jake said.
“Yeah, a hooker or a drug addict.” Matt stripped off his clothes.
“She didn’t look like either. Kind of classy.” Dan headed for his locker.
“You’d give up a great blow job from Valerie for a Hot Dog Girl?” Matt stepped under the running water.
Jake snickered. “You never know. This girl might give more than hot dogs, Matt.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not giving up Valerie. Just curious.” Dan pulled on jeans.
“Damn! I was already dialing her number,” Jake said.
Dan snorted. “Like you’d ever have a chance with her.”
“What makes you think I haven’t?” Jake cocked an eyebrow.
“Why, you fuckin’ asshole!” Dan bunched Jake’s shirt in his fist.
“Keep your fuckin’ pants on, Mr. All Star. I never touched her.”
“And you’d better not.”
Jake smoothed the fabric across his hard chest. “Geez. Pretty touchy for a guy checkin’ out other chicks.”
“Boys, boys,” Matt said, imitating a mother’s voice. “No fighting. We’re all on the same team.”
“Leave my girl alone,” grumbled Dan.
“I don’t need your girl. I’ve got plenty of my own,” Jake said, zipping up his pants. “It’s Matt who needs some hand-me-downs.”
Dan laughed. “That’s right. Got some rejects for him, Jake?”
Jake whipped out his phone. “Let’s see.”
“Fuck off! I don’t need anyone’s rejects. I can find my own babe,” Matt said, heading out the door.
“You need something!” Jake called after him, but Matt was already gone. “You really checking out hot dog chicks?” he asked, while tying his shoes.
“Naw. Ran into Bud. He introduced me. She’s cute. That’s all. You’re right. She’s a Hot Dog Girl. Not in my league.”
Dan combed his short, brown hair and headed for his car. The fullness of the girl’s lips and the curve of her hips stayed with him. She didn’t look like the usual stray Bud Magee dragged in and hired. This one was different. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something about her that made him curious. He wanted to know her story. His intuition told him she had one, and it was probably a doozy.
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