This timeIlaugh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Bug,” Kai begins. “Are you going to come see me and Monty in the dugout before the first pitch?”
“Yeah. And me and Mama watch Dada coaching.”
Max’s attention focuses back on the computer screen, watching highlights from last night’s game, while I look across at my daughter.
She grew up just like this, coming to the field to watch me coach.
I’ve spent the last twenty-plus years raising that girl and wanting only this—for her to find her happiness, no matter what that may look like. At the time, I didn’t know it was going to be my star pitcher and his son to bring that into her life, but meeting Kai and Max grounded her in a way I could’ve only hoped for.
More than any job I’ve had, more than my time in the league as a player, more than the World Series win as a field manager, what I am most proud of in my life is her. Anything I’ve ever done is for her.
“Max, what do you say?” Miller asks. “Do you want to go find Isaiah and Auntie Ken before the game starts?”
Max’s big blue eyes widen in excitement, his silent way of saying yes.
“Well, let’s do it.” Miller stands from Kai’s lap.
“And the boys?” Max asks as I help him down.
“We’ll go see all the boys. I bet Cody and Trav are looking for you right now.”
Reaching up, Max puts his hand into his mom’s.
Miller wraps her arm around me in a side hug. “Good luck tonight, Dad.”
“Thanks, Millie. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She bends over to quickly kiss Kai. “Good luck, baby.”
“Thanks, Mills. Love you.”
As soon as my daughter and Max are out of my office, I scowl at my future son-in-law.
“What?” he asks, confused.
“Don’t copy me.”
Kai chuckles. “Get over it, old man.”
“You’re only like a decade younger than me.”
“All I heard was ‘younger.’”
“Shut up and let’s talk about the pitching strategy for tonight.”
Laughing, Kai pulls out his iPad and starts spouting out facts about the other team’s batting lineup. Through the window behind him, a flash of blonde steals my attention. I keep my eyes locked there, willing for it to return, when finally, Reese walks by my window with someone I vaguely recognize from the ticket sales department.
They stop right in front of my office, right in front of my window, as they continue their conversation, giving me a perfect view.
She’s all business tonight, as always. Sharp line to her short hair, sky-high heels, and a pencil skirt that’s practically painted to her curves.
And she’ssmiling, which is only worth noting because I haven’t seen it in over a week.
We have yet to speak since that advisory meeting last Monday. Well, I guess what I mean is that we have yet to speak since we got into it in her office right afterward.
And yeah, I’ve fucking noticed.
