See you soon.
Dropping my phone, I tune into the conversation as Miller motions to the screen as if the video is still playing and says, “Exactly! That horse is probably thrilled at the getaway. Did you see how happy it looked?”
“This is going to be really bad for the team, but you have to admit it is fucking hilarious,” I agree with him. Hopefully we’ll be able to mitigate the damage in the press and with the league.
Gabby slips out of the room and into the bedroom. Gone is my carefree best friend and in her place is the analytical problem solver who tries not to let her boss’s words drag her down. She’s a damn good lawyer and I hate that she’s had to fight so hard for her place. After this is over, Grant better see how much of an asset she is and how big a waste of space Mark is. Mark’s rarely ever in the office so the fact he’s managed to hold onto his job as the general counsel is beyond me.
I follow Gabby into the bedroom, watching as she throws her things in the suitcase and rushes back and forth to the bathroom while asking for my opinion on the situation. Time to lighten the mood and get her out of her head.
“I seriously doubt he went out last night and said to himself, ‘I’m going to steal a horse from the police and get arrested so the team can punish me.’”
“He better not be that stupid.” She groans, and then as if she finally sees the humor in it, she laughs. “Who steals a horse right from under the police?”
“Right, ballsy. You have to have serious BDE for that. Tell me—” I bat my eyelashes at her and lean in close, “—does he have the big dick to back it up in his pants, counselor?” Gabby’s face turns as red as the soles of my favorite heels at the taunt of her one-night stand with Chase Bennett after Preston and Ivory’s wedding. When she met a hot stranger in the bar that night and stayed back with him after Miller and I left, I was damn proud of her. The glow when she returned the next morning told me everything I needed to know about the rookie’s ability to utilize the tools in his tool belt.
Gabby palms my face and pushes it away, then she grabs her suitcase off the bed and moves to the door. Just before she opens it, she turns back to me and says, “Yes he does.”
Her smug grin makes me cackle, and I follow her out into the main area of the suite so we can say our goodbyes and head to the airport.
“Are you ready for this?” I ask Gabby in the elevator on the way up to the conference room in the Troubadours front office to distract myself from the pounding heart in my chest.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s hope they go for it.” She’s been on the phone the entire flight, talking to the district attorney and other people to arrange a plea deal for Chase. From what she’s told me, it’s a win for everyone involved.
“They’d be stupid not to.” I inject as much confidence into my voice as I can. Despite my nerves at seeing and interacting with Grant, I have no doubt in my best friend’s ability to sway the room and do her job.
We drop our bags in Gabby’s office and walk down the hallway to the meeting room. As we go, I try to control my breathing and school my face reminding myself I’m in control. I command the room. I’m a boss bitch.
All that goes out the window when we enter the room and Grant turns toward the door. His eyes meet mine and the golden flecks in them act as a spark jumpstarting my heart again. My breath stutters and my feet falter momentarily. It’s been less than a year since he backed me against a wall and gave me his full attention, but I’d already forgotten what it felt like.
“Nice of you to join us, Gabe,” Ricardo’s voice slices through the air. The audacity of this fucking guy.
I open my mouth to correct his vile treatment of Gabby, but Grant beats me to it. “Gabrielle was in Atlanta with our all stars.”
Gabby speaks up next, engaging in a verbal tussle with Ricardo as we take our seats on one side of the conference table. Chase and his representatives sit on the opposite side while Grant and Mark sit at the respective heads of the table. Ricardo, the pompous ass of a scout, is beside Mark and on Mark’s other side is Ben, the team’s general manager who looks like he swallowed something unsavory. Yeah, your buddies are a bunch of pricks, Ben. Take care of that.
“Only vital personnel can remain in this room. That goes for your team as well, Mary. You can stay, but the assistants leave.” Gabby speaks to the director of communications. Mary nods to her staff and they file out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
I sit down on Gabby’s left, ignoring Ricardo’s arguments until I hear my name in the spat.
“Taylor stays.” The finality in Grant’s tone has my eyes whipping back to his. His brows are creased and there’s a tick in his jaw that wasn’t present before. I don’t miss the way his eyes cut to mine, and both the command in his voice and the pride of what it means for him to insist I stay in this meeting have my pulse thrumming faster. A thousand emotions flit through me mixed with the questions on what it could mean, but the one that surges to the surface is desire.
The small curve of Taylor’s mouth tells me everything I need to know—we’re still attuned to each other. Speaking through nonverbal cues and fully aligned without having to plan the messaging before starting the meeting. Hell, we’ve barely seen each other since I cornered her in the hallway at Preston and Ivory’s wedding in November when I declared my intention to win back my wife. It may have only been in my head, but the declaration was made.
Mark glares at Gabby from his end of the table, insisting the asshole arguing with her stay in the room. Needing this meeting back on track and my staff under control, I cut in. “Let’s get started.”
Clasping my hands together on the table, I turn my attention to Chase Bennett. The rookie we’re currently gathered to deal with after his untimely arrest last night. “Mr. Bennett, we are extremely disappointed with the choices you’ve made and your behavior. It’s not in line with the Music City organization, nor is it reflective of the values of the MLB.” Chase maintains eye contact while I speak, looking regretful—a good sign.
Chase’s attorney, George, immediately starts talking when I pause. “My client regrets his?—”
Chase cuts him off, addressing me instead. “I understand, sir. There’s no excuse for my behavior, and I take full responsibility for my actions. I will accept whatever penalties the team and lawenforcement feel are appropriate.” His shameful expression reassures me that we made the right decision calling him up when we did. He’s not as problematic as his reputation and prior coaches would have us believe. He’s just a young kid who made a stupid choice while he was off work. We’ve all been there. I won’t tell him that. He needs to know he can’t get away with shit like that anymore.
“That’s good to hear. The league will also likely assess a suspension. They can’t let this go unpunished with the headlines as they are,” Ben speaks up from his end of the table. Every media outlet has picked up the story and the potential for this incident to ruin our exceptional season increases with every passing minute.
Mark’s brash voice fills the room as he bellows to Chase and his team. “The league has already stated they’ll suspend you from games. They haven’t decided how long. It depends on how the charges shake out.”
There needs to be an investigation before the league can rule on any suspensions. I don’t know what he’s trying to do but it’s not going to work. Not with me in the room. A smug grin crosses his face as he levels Chase with a look, wrongfully assuming he has the upper hand.
“There’s also the matter of your contract and the morality clause. Now, Ricardo has gone to bat for you, and Coach Crenshaw speaks highly of your performance thus far. I think we can lean towards probation instead of breach. Again, depending how the charges go with the district attorney.” He puffs out his chest and looks to me for an assist.
