“He thinks women don’t belong because they’re too sensitive to be in a man’s sport. Reporting him will just cause more issues that I’m too exhausted to deal with.”
Ivory watches me with understanding eyes before answering, “I get that. I put up with a lot of shit both on set and off. It wasn't until Preston that I realized how much I had let that frame my way of thinking and started standing up for myself. It changed everything. You should try it.”
I envy her and Preston’s relationship. He’s the most supportive and empowering partner. I would be so lucky to findsomeone like that. My mind immediately jumps to Chase. He’s so much younger than me, but our connection was undeniable. Could that lustful desire turn into something more?
“Well, he can choke on a dick. The future of sport is female. He either needs to get on board or fuck off,” Taylor argues as she types on her phone.
“What are you doing?” I ask at the same time Ivory offers, “Can I chop off his dick instead?”
“Whoa, killer. Whose dick are we chopping off?” Preston comes back inside carrying the tray of burger patties.
“Not mine. I haven’t done anything,” Miller covers his junk
“Ricardo,” I respond.
“Or as I will now refer to him, Dickardo.” Taylor puts down her phone and raises her glass.
“Yeah, that guy is a tool,” Miller agrees.
“Did he say something to you, Gabs?” Preston questions, helping Ivory put the finishing touches on our dinner.
“Not outright.” I love Preston, but if he knew all the things I deal with in the front office when Mark and Ricardo decide to show up to work, he’d go batshit big brother, and that’s the last thing I need right now.
“The vibes are off,” Ivory answers for me. “He treats Gabby like shit.”
“How so?” Miller crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the counter.
“It’s really not a big deal,” I try again to downplay the situation.
“Don’t lie to me,” Miller responds, his tone serious. The girls choose now of all times to busy themselves with making a plate instead of coming to my rescue. Guess I’m not getting out of this one.
“He just always treats me differently because I’m a woman. He doesn’t even use my name when we’re forced to interact.”
“Do I need to have a talk with him?” Miller’s glare turns deadly. Normally, he’s the goofy little brother of the group, buthe is also intensely loyal and protective. I think it stems from having sisters.
“No, I was just telling the girls I don’t want to say anything or rock the boat.”
“I’m handling it,” Taylor cuts me off.
“What do you mean you’re handling it?” I ask, giving her my bestwhat the fuckface.
“Exactly what I said.”
“How are you going to handle it?” I don’t need her to handle it.
“You don’t even work there,” Miller adds, sarcastically.
“I have my ways.” Her general avoidance to the ties she has in the office piques my interest.
“Let’s eat. The show is about to start,” Preston interrupts. “Gabs can handle herself.” He shoots me a wink letting me know he’s got my back.
“Yes, I can. I was just saying that. I don’t know why no one listens to me.” Getting off the barstool, I round the island and make my plate before taking it outside to their outdoor dining table. There’s a big screen mounted on the wall above an outdoor fireplace. Surround sound is wired into hidden speakers around the backyard. Plush couches sit immediately in front of the fireplace and the large dining table sits off to the side still in view of the TV. Preston has the sports channel already pulled up with the selection show just starting. Conversation flows easily as we all take our seats and begin to eat with the announcements playing in the background.
When it comes time for the official announcement of the National League All-Star team, Miller turns up the volume and says, “Shut up. I want to hear what they say about me.”
We all roll our eyes, and Preston pretends he’s the announcer. “And despite his weak old knees and below average bat, the fans have chosen Ryan Miller as the catcher once again this year.”
“Hey!” Miller shouts.
