I don’t let their reactions deter me. “I want to look into trading Harrison Kaiser.”
The laughter slowly dies down as the room begins to realize that I’m completely serious. I watch as they look around at one another, watch as they silently ask each other if I’ve lost it.
Scott is the first to speak up. “No.”
“He’s here on a two-year contract and getting paid way too much for it,” I explain. “We could use those funds elsewhere.”
“Absolutely not. I’m the one who got him here last season. We aren’t trading him.”
“And you offered him more money than he’s worth.”
“He was the biggest pickup of the season!” Scott raises his voice at me. “Every playoff-bound team wanted him andIgot him.”
“Reese,” Phil cuts in. “Your first act as president cannot be to trade one of the most sought-after players just months after weworked so hard to get him here. You’ll be the laughingstock of the league.”
Ed puts his hand over mine in a move that reminds me so much of my grandfather. “Don’t you think you’ll need him for a long playoff run if we make it that far?”
“Yes,” Scott answers for me.
“No,” I quickly argue. “I have someone else in mind to fill his role. Someone in our minor league system.”
Scott scoffs. “Who?”
I pause, unsure if I want to tell him about my long-term plans or about the player I haven’t been able to stop watching film of. Really not the best sign that I’m not sure if I can trust someone from the advisory board.
“That’s what I thought,” Scott says when I stay silent. “There’s no one in our minor league system that could even be considered a possible replacement for Harrison Kaiser. Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“Hey,” Emmett cuts in sharply. “Do not speak to her like that.”
I let my eyes drift to him to find him already staring back my way.
And he’s pissed.
At Scott, I’d like to think. But you never know with Emmett and his players. He’s too attached to them.
My hope with inviting him to this meeting was to have another voice on my side. I know I’ll get Ed to understand my point of view and having three of us against four are better odds than only having two.
“Let’s have a vote,” Scott says.
“What?” We don’t vote here. I’m in charge. These meetings are simply to advise me, not to force my hand in a certain direction. “No, that’s not how this wor—”
“Everyone against trading Harrison Kaiser, raise your hand.”
Four hands shoot up instantly. Every member of the advisory board.
All but Ed.
Four against three as I knew it would be, but again, this vote doesn’t mean anything. I have the field manager on my side. I have my grandfather’s longest trusted advisor.
Those four hands are still lifted in the air when, cautiously, my attention drifts back to Emmett. He’s watching me from across the table, jaw hard, hands gripping the armrests of his chair, white knuckles and all.
Until he slowly raises his hand too.
And that single hand in the air is the only one that bothers me.
I don’t know how to explain it, but everything in me deflates. I really let myself believe we could be on the same side.
So much for a truce.
