“Silas, just the man we wanted to see.”
I paused, sucking in a slow breath before I turned to Kent’s voice. Lee was right. I had to support the team however they would ask me to and learn how to crack a believable fake smile when it was something out of my comfort zone.
Still, I had to fight a cringe as I turned around.
Kent approached me with a wide and eager grin as he motioned for the woman next to him to follow.
“Gayle, this is our brand-new manager, Silas Jones. Four-time Gold Glove winner and still holds the record for RBIs in a single season with his old team in Washington.”
“I’m familiar with his stats. Welcome to New York,” Gayle said, extending a hand. She had short blond, almost-white hair and cat-eye glasses, her gray eyes magnified by the lenses as she studied me.
“Well, he’s from here, so you can say ‘Welcome back,’” Kent said, slapping me on the shoulder.
“Is that right? We could use that,” Gayle said, tapping her chin.
“Use that?” I repeated.
“Gayle is the head of the agency that’s going to be working with us. They’re going to write articles on the team—and one on you. We’re going to be everywhere this season.”
“My staff is just here to take it all in,” Gayle said. “We only told them about this outing last night, so they aren’t prepared with questions or plans or anything.”
“Just enjoy the day, and we can strategize later.” Kent motioned to the field outside the hallway window.
Wayne Field was a state-of-the-art baseball field built by the billionaire who owned the team. Every inch of the place was cutting-edge, from the offices to the field itself to the concession stands and the high-end suites. Large windows throughout the office space had amazing views of the field, where I still itched to be instead of working the back end, even though I wore the same uniform as the rest of the team. Kent had even arranged to give me number twenty-three, my old number before I’d retired.
Getting used to the word retired and having a clean uniform at the end of each game would be an adjustment, and this place still seemed too cold to feel like home.
I missed that worn-in, old-time feeling Washington’s stadium had or the classic setup of some of the parks I’d playedat during my career. There was no sense of tradition yet at Wayne Field. Everything was so new and pristine, almost like a model of a stadium instead of the real thing.
As the Brooklyn Bats’ new manager, I was part of that new model and on display for the world to see and judge. Something that had never bothered me when I stepped onto the field before. I’d owned it as a player, but I had to earn my place on it as a manager.
Despite all my reservations, I wanted to do this job. I wanted to win and the chance to teach young players. I remembered the good managers I’d had and how they’d guided us in creating a legacy in our short careers.
I’d learn to deal with the interviews, the videos, and the posters I was already seeing of me and the team plastered all over the city. If I wanted to stay and have a career in baseball at all, I had to suck it up and smile.
Letting people in had always been a challenge for me, and exposing myself like I’d have to do here almost made me break into a cold sweat. There was only one time I’d happily let someone in, but I had to let go of that and all I used to be so I could figure out how to be what I was.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RACHEL
“This is kind of cool,”my best friend Auden mused as we strode through the Wayne Field main entrance. “I mean, as far as forced company outings go.”
“True,” I said, scanning the space. I’d never been to see the Brooklyn Bats play, but I’d taken Taylor to see the minor league Cyclones play nearby along with some of her softball friends last year. They’d giggled to each other and whispered, pointing at the players as most preteen girls would do, and we’d had a fun day out. Fun was a limited and expensive luxury, but I’d been happy to treat us both.
Maybe if we were all supposed to do PR for the Bats, I’d be able to get tickets at a discount. My disposable income and last book release payout had gone to Taylor’s sports equipment and team dues, plus all the extras that popped up, so I had to choose our free time activities wisely.
I’d never joined anything as a kid because I never had anyone to take me or pick me up. Taylor’s robust schedule was part of me making up for everything our mother didn’t do for us, but it was exhausting me both physically and financially.
“Do you think this is a team-building thing, or are we supposed to do something with the Bats?”
I shrugged, trying to keep my hair away from my eyes as it blew around my face. It was a breezy, early-April day and overcast enough to threaten rain. I’d hoped for box seats with shelter, but the rest of our coworkers were seated right behind home plate.
“I have no idea.” I shrugged as we headed toward two empty seats next to the aisle. “By the time the email came through about amandatoryouting, I was too busy figuring out who would take my sister to her swimming lessons after school to question why.”
I let out a long, frustrated breath. If I’d had the time, I would have searched online for anything about the Brooklyn Bats and if something special was going on that we all had to gather here for right away.
I didn’t follow any local sports teams. Social media would be my clue as to what New York-based sports team had made the play-offs, and I silently supported them like any New Yorker would, but I never had a real interest.
