ONE
kendra
Office rumors saidI only had this job because my sister was engaged to Sam Drummond, and she was the head of the non-profit supported by the Minutemen organization. Fuck that shit. How easily women’s success was brushed off as luck, nepotism, or, God forbid, a social program.
My degree was in sports management, and I graduated from an Ivy League college at the top of my class. Granted, before I’d been hired, my management experience was limited to running a hockey rink in Hingham, MA. But I could do this, and I could do it better than anyone else, or die trying.
Was this my dream job? Hell fucking yes. Did I need to remind myself of my qualifications every day? Also, yes.
As an organization, the Minutemen had more women executives than any other baseball team. The ownership—the Crosby family—had just passed to the new generation; it skipped the daughter and went to Jonathan Crosby III,also known as Hawk. So, while they supported women, they didn’t follow that rule for the women in ownership.
Colby Crosby gave a press conference in which she insisted that, while she loved baseball and the Minutemen Organization, she wasn’t interested in active, day-to-day ownership. It felt a bit hollow. But then again, she was all over the gossip rags and seemed more interested in living a fun life than earning a living. Maybe if I’d been born into a family with money, I’d have the same attitude.
The sports pundits had ripped into Hawk’s past, notably his college career, which included a Bachelor’s degree and a Master’s from Harvard. Massachusetts blue bloods only went to Harvard. Their relentless investigation turned up nothing of note. He was squeaky clean, but if rich people were good at anything, it was keeping their secrets.
There might be photos of him plastered all over the internet, but none of them so much as hinted at the man having an ounce of personality—just impeccable style. I knew the type, though.
Having Dartmouth College on my resume helped me get my foot in the door, and I interviewed well. Chalk that up to the skills I learned as the oldest daughter; I was always the spokesperson for my sisters. I could be my own spokesperson. Maybe if this gig didn’t work out for me, sales would be an option?
Rumor had it that the new ownership was asserting its role by attending every meeting, which meant I would have a larger audience than expected when I presented my thoughts on the organization’s future. Luckily, my Dartmouth pedigree had given me more than enough exposureto spoiled rich kids and trust fund babies. What it didn’t provide was an explanation of why someone who didn’t need to work would even bother taking on the responsibility.
The photos on the websites did not prepare me for experiencing Hawk in person. Piercing blue eyes, a physique that rivaled the team’s athletes, and a mop of dark hair. Yes, I’d always had a thing for men in suits, mainly because a suit could hide a few flaws. But this man had none.
He commanded attention and would have even if he weren’t the boss. The lack of personality that I had expected from my internet stalking did not materialize. I guess he had something cameras couldn’t catch.
WOO. In corporate speak, Winning Others Over was the most coveted and rarest strength. Shit. He had it. I had wanted to dislike him, but that was because I expected him to be like every jackass from college.
As the assistant director of operations, I would occasionally contact him via e-mail, though my boss and director carefully vetted every proposal and response. A stark reminder that I was still very much in training, and on a short leash.
I should NOT be in a meeting with the team’s owner. Why was he here? Butterflies swam in my stomach as I worried about having to speak in front of him when it was my turn.
Relief was brief when Hawk paused our planned presentations in favor of an impromptu corporate team-building activity.
He stood before the entire corporate staff and deliveredan announcement. “This marks day one of our corporate retreat. I wanted to take the time to meet our back-office team. While the athletic team gets all the attention, this group is just as important to our success.” He paused to take in the stunned expressions. My short tenure had taught me that my co-workers hated surprises. “Today will be office-based since I didn’t send the dress code beforehand, but we’ll be in the field tomorrow, so dress comfortably and be prepared to interact with all the staff. We’ll have leadership, concession staff, and grounds crews; everyone will work together. If you have a baseball glove you prefer to use, bring it. Otherwise, you’ll be provided one.”
I tried to envision some of my co-workers attempting to catch a ball. There was a reason why some of these guys worked in the back office. They could memorize stats and recite them with the proficiency of a computer, but I couldn’t see them so much as jogging to first base.
Would we be playing ball? Interesting, if not a bit cold. The December weather had recently turned chilly, though the ground hadn’t frozen yet, and it would be windy out on the ball field.
“I plan to establish a culture where everyone within the organization knows their value. The kid working part-time as a concessionaire can eventually work in the corporate office if they want to. Our human resources department will provide training and education for staff, including mentorship programs up to and including senior leadership. Eligibility for year-end bonuses will require participation in mentorship activities.”
The leadership team around the table showed no outward signs of disagreement. But this wasn’t a group thattook kindly to having contingencies placed on their bonuses. The staff group chats would pop off the second Hawk left the conference room.
He spoke for about ten more minutes and outlined changes he planned to make, notably within the culture. The major takeaway: Hawk Crosby planned for accessibility and involvement in the operations. He asked each of us to send him a text with our names and positions within the organization, and he assured us we could text him with any issues.
Um, my panties had grown uncomfortably damp. Was that a reason to contact him?Shut all the way the fuck up, Kendra. You are ABSOLUTELY NOT going to lust after your boss.
We then went around the table and introduced ourselves. Hawk made eye contact with everyone of us. He asked questions about our backgrounds, history, and motivation. He also asked what he thought we could do to improve the organization.
When it was my turn, I stuttered a moment when he leveled those piercing blues on mine.Shit.His stare was intense, almost inappropriate. Public speaking had always been a strength for me. I could talk in front of anyone, including groups, without ever getting tongue-tied or losing track of my point.
Why the fuck couldn’t I remember my name?
Deep breaths, Kenny.
“Kendra Colette, Assistant Director of Operations. I primarily research players, existing contracts, and terms, and work with the development and recruiters to sign talent.”
“What is your background?”
