I grab my truck keys off the entryway table and head back into the kitchen to say a few quick goodbyes when I remember our team doctor just came from the field.
“Kennedy, was Reese still at the stadium when you left?”
She thinks it over. “I don’t think so. There were only a couple of cars left in the lot, and I didn’t see a light on in any of the offices upstairs.”
Shit.
Well, there goes that idea.
Something about this feels too pressing to leave until tomorrow. Yeah, I’m frustrated that she’s upholding theseprofessional boundaries out of nowhere, but I don’t care about that right now. I care about the fact that I was way too hard on her about Nate, when all along she was making sure he was taken care of because she didn’t have room in the budget to take care of him herself.
The more that realization settles in, the more of an asshole I feel.
I desperately need to apologize.
I lift my phone to call her when a text pops onto my screen, and it’s been so long since I’ve seen a message accompanied by her name that I have to do a double take just to convince myself she actually responded to me.
Reese:No, I’m not at the field.
Me:Where are you?
I say my goodbyes, hugging my daughter and loving on Max for a moment before heading toward the front door to go find Reese.
Reese:Across town. I won’t be going back to the field tonight.
Me:Where across town?
Reese:At a new restaurant called the Brass Fork. About to eat dinner.
I’ve heard of it. Never eaten there myself, but I know it’s nice. There’s a good chance my henley, jeans, and baseball hat won’t get me through the door, but it’s worth a shot.
Me:I’ll come meet you.
Reese:You can’t.
Me:This is work-related. I promise I’m not crossing any of your boundaries.
I’m out the door and reversing my truck when she responds with a message that has me putting it right back in park.
Reese:I’m on a date.
I reread that message a few times, and I like it less and less with each pass.
She’s on a date?
Am I jealous? Fuck yeah, I’m jealous. I’m jealous that she’ll hardly talk to me and now someone else gets the privilege of having her attention all night. I’m jealous she’s out with someone else in public because that person, unlike me, is not her employee.
But I don’t know why she’d think her being on a date would deter me. All it does is add fuel to the fire. Has she met me?
I throw my truck in reverse, but before I start driving, I send her one more text.
Me:Great. When is that over? I’ll be the one taking you home.
17
Reese
“Thank you so much for dinner,” I say, walking next to Michael as we head for the front door.
