Tonight is my grandfather’s retirement party, and after making it through a rough week, Emmett canceled today’s practice to give the boys a break, while I gave the front-office staff the day off to get ready for tonight. Everyone will be in attendance later, so I’m hoping a day away from the field and a late-night party will act as a reset for everyone.
Though no one else is working today, I always planned to. What I didn’t expect when I showed up to work was that I’d end up in an advisory board meeting that Scott called as if he had the authority to do so.
I don’t have it in me for any of them to corner me in my office, so with the building to myself until the party planners startshowing up in a few hours, I decide to hide out in the dugout for a bit. At least until the board members can get in their cars and leave.
It’s peacefully quiet on the clubhouse level, a stark contrast to most days during the season. And I revel in the rare silence.
That is, until I’m startled with an overly cheery, “Hi, Reese!”
Isaiah jogs to meet me on my way outside.
Stopping in my tracks, I look back in the direction he came from, trying to piece together where the hell he just popped out of.
“Hey.” My tone is laced with confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“Just using the restroom.”
That earns a brow lift. “Which one?”
“C’mon, Reese. Not that one.” His smile turns cheeky. “My wife isn’t here.”
I don’t give myself time to think about what those two may or may not have done in there over the years. “I mean what are you doinghere? At the field. Don’t you have the day off?”
“Oh.” We start walking together down the tunnel to head outside. “Monty asked a few of us to help him out for a couple of hours.”
“Help him out with what?” But as soon as I step out into the dugout, my question is answered for me.
Out on the field, the portable batting cage is set up behind home plate. Milo has his batting helmet on, taking swings off Kai Rhodes’ full-speed pitches. Travis is padded up and catching for his previous pitcher. Meanwhile, Cody and Emmett are leaning behind the cage, giving the new kid pointers on his swing.
“Well, I guess technically we’re helping out Milo,” Isaiah explains. “Monty called this morning to see if we could get together. He’s trying to get his confidence up before the next game.”
Well, shit.
And to think, there was a time I convinced myself I didn’t like the team’s field manager.
“Did he now?”
“Kid’s got potential.” Isaiah bumps his arm against my shoulder. “I think you made the right call.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. We’ll make sure everyone else realizes it too. Don’t worry.”
With that carefree statement, he jogs out to the field to join the rest of the guys, going to the far side of the cage and leaning against it next to Cody.
It’d probably be smart of me to head back upstairs to my office instead of walking out there to join them, because I’m fairly certain if I get too close I might just grab Emmett by the shirt and press my mouth against his to say thank you.
On their day off, he got his guys together to give Milo a confidence boost. He even got his star pitcher out of retirement for it.
Screw it. I’m not going back to my office.
I take the steps up the dugout stairs, walking on the balls of my feet when I hit the field so my stilettos don’t sink into the grass. Emmett is on the near side of the batting cage, so that’s where I go. Like a moth to a flame these days.
As I cross the field, I watch as Kai throws a nasty slider. Milo simply stares as it flies past him and into Travis’s glove.
“At least get a swing on it, Jones!” Cody calls out from behind the netting.
“It’s Kai Rhodes.” Milo points his bat toward the pitching mound. “You try getting a swing off him.”
