“What are you doing in my dugout, anyway?” he eventually asks.
My defenses instantly shoot up. There’s not a chance in hell I’m going to tell him I was having a sentimental moment in the place I used to hide out in as a kid.
“Yourdugout?” I ask, brow raised. “Last I looked, my name was listed next to ‘Team Owner.’”
Emmett’s expression relaxes, this glint shining in his eye.
“What?” I ask, skeptically.
“I don’t know. You’re quick. You have a sharp tongue.”
“Well, apologies that I’m notsofterfor you.”
“I wouldn’t want you to be. I raised a daughter who always had something to say. I don’t mind the challenge.”
I don’t dare ask him why he’s not with his daughter right now. I don’t ask him why he’s spending his Sunday night at the field when all the players and staff have gone home to their families. Instead, I take a step around him to head back to my office and get to work on this budget for the rest of the night.
“I’ll see you on the plane tomorrow.”
Emmett stops me with a hand around my bicep, causing me to turn back his way. “What are you talking about?”
“We have our first away series, Emmett.”
“We do. And that’s the only reason why you’re coming with us, right? Because it’s the first series of the season and not because you’re planning to travel with us for every road trip?”
I can see why he’s hopeful for me to confirm this. I didn’t go to every road series last season while I was in training, and my grandfather gave up team travel years ago.
I fake confusion when I tell him, “Of course I’ll be with you for every road trip,” in my most innocent voice. “What kind of owner would I be if I didn’t keep a close eye on how the team is performing? Or on how the field manager is doing?”
His eyes go wide with disbelief. “Your grandfather didn’t travel to every game with us.”
I shrug casually, turning on my high heels and enjoying the click they make against the floor with each step. Before I’m too far down the hall, I add, “Like I said before, Emmett, things are going to be different this year.”
3
Emmett
“Do you think if I went down a size in my uniform pants, it’d give me a better range of motion?” Cody, our first baseman, squats down into a deep stretch.
Isaiah laughs. “Range of motion? Really.”
Cody’s smile turns cheeky. “Might make my ass look better too. I don’t know.”
“Is that really the most important thing on your mind just before we start the final game of this series?” I ask, arms crossed over the dugout railing.
“Don’t worry, Coach. My head is fully in the game. Been keeping a close eye on number seven over there.”
Kai tries to hold back his laughter, but it slips out. “Yeah, I’m sure you have been.”
Cody, our first baseman, and Travis, our catcher, are Isaiah’s two best friends. And though I don’t tend to choose favorites, Isaiah and Kai are basically family so Cody and Trav have become an extension of that.
Kai and Travis have always been my responsible, level-headed guys, while Cody and Isaiah are my two wild cards, always down for a good time.
I’d only admit it if they needed to hear it, but I really do love them. They make my job fun.
“What do you guys think of Natalie?” Travis asks of our new athletic trainer.
The three players are on the grass stretching, while Kai and I rest our forearms on the railing that separates us in the dugout.
