A heat creeps up her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Kennedy is not only the new team doctor, but she’s also married to one of the players—Kai’s little brother, Isaiah.
The Rhodes brothers have become a part of my family since we all landed in Chicago. There are times I take on a more fatherly role for them when they need it. There’s not a huge age difference between us, just over a decade, so other times, I’m simply their friend.
Yes, they’ve both been my players and me their coach, but our bond is a whole lot tighter than that. It just so happens that Kai is marrying my daughter soon and Isaiah married the team doctor who I work with closely, so it’s one big cluster of non-blood-related family.
“We’ll see you guys for dinner tonight?” Kai asks.
She nods. “We’ll be there.”
“Same,” I confirm.
Even though the film room is loud, I can hear the squeak of the door perfectly clear, and the sound has tension rippling through every one of my muscles.
Reese is the last to arrive and as soon as one high heel is past the threshold, my attention is immediately on her.
Short blonde hair cuts sharply below her jaw. A charcoal-gray pencil skirt paints her curves. Navy-blue eyes that are impossible to read coolly assess the room.
And when they slice to me, they silently scream how much she doesn’t like me.
Well, I take it back. I guess she’s pretty easy to read when it comes to me.
The unimpressed stare lasts only a second before she pulls her attention away and continues to the podium at the front of the room.
I don’t know what it is about me that bothers her so much, that’s caused such a bad taste in her mouth, but I feel the same way toward her.
However, I have my reasons.
First of all, the woman spent the entirety of last season informing me that her first year as the official team owner is the same year I’m up for a new contract. Like she needed to verbally remind me that the fate of my career lies in the palm of her hand this season.
Secondly, she’s already been on my ass about schedules, budgets, and reallocating funds, as ifI’mthe reason certain departments of the organization are operating in the red, and not because her grandfather didn’t have the energy to keep up. Truthfully, there’s not an ounce of me that wants anything to do with the back end of how the club is run as long as my players are taken care of. I just want to coach baseball.
And lastly, her biggest fault of all... she looks likethat.
My new boss is not only a pain in my ass, but she’s alsostunningand the first woman my body has decided to pay attention to in God knows how long.
Eventually the rest of me will get the memo that we don’t like her. It just might not be until I’m packing up my desk at the end of the season because my new boss refuses to extend my coaching contract.
“You good?” Kai nudges my arm.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, of course.”
“Okay.” The word is laced with this annoyingly knowing tone that doesn’t go unnoticed when he leans over to Kennedy and the two of them share a look.
“I saw that,” I mutter.
Kennedy laughs. “We weren’t trying to hide it.”
Standing in the front of the room, Reese says something to the audience, but the crowd is so rowdy, everyone excited to see their coworkers after the offseason, that no one pays attention or tries to hear her.
I watch as her throat works its way through a swallow, like she’s pushing down the nerves, hands tightly fisted to the podium. And I get it. Not only is she the first female team owner that the MLB has ever seen, but she’s also the youngest.
But Reese is a boss. Not justmyboss, but a gets-things-done, doesn’t-take-shit-from-anyoneboss. I saw it last year while she was training for this new role. She’s the reason Kennedy is here and taking over the position she should’ve had years ago. Reese saw what her grandfather didn’t—that the previous team doctor was a sexist piece of shit—and handled it. She fired him and gave Kennedy his job, making her the first female team doctor in the league.
As much as I don’t love the idea of working for someone who doesn’t want me here, Reese will be a breath of fresh air for this organization. But first, she needs to get through this staff meeting.
She opens her mouth to speak again, but no words come out, nerves holding her back, the room too preoccupied with theirown chatter to realize she’s here and asking for their attention. Her knuckles go white from her firm grip around the podium, her knees slightly shaking, which I can only see because I’m sitting in the front row.
