They watched Javier escort her grandmother back from the dance floor.
“Did you have fun?” Camdyn asked Granna when they got closer.
“I did. You know I love dancing. I have a hard time getting your grandpa out there with me. He’s normally good for maybe one or two dances, so having more options to dance with just makes the night more fun.”
“Well, if that’s the case, Mother, can I have the next dance?” Uncle Brett asked with an outstretched hand.
Her grandmother put her hand in his. “Of course, Son. I would never turn down a dance with you.”
Javier moved to Camdyn’s side. “How about you, Cami? Do you care to dance?”
She looked at his dark eyes, dancing with mirth. He had little crow’s-feet at the corners. She would have thought they were probably from all the time he played in the sun, but she knew they also spoke of him being a happy, joyful person.
“I would love to dance with you,” said Camdyn.
Javi led her back to the dance floor and pulled her close. “These slow songs are nice, but Cami, I think I preferred our dancing in the Latin room of that club in San Diego.”
She sighed as she placed her left hand on his shoulder. “Me too. I hadn’t danced like that in years.”
He slid his hand down to her lower back. “If you want, we can try that bachata again when we get back to your place.”
As fun as that sounded, she knew that wasn’t thedancehe really wanted to repeat. “I’d like that. I think we could probably say our goodbyes and leave after this dance.”
“Don’t we have to stay for the auction? You bid on that gold chain,” he stated.
She shook her head. “No, they’ll notify the winners if they’re not present.”
His grip tightened on her as they swayed to the music.
“Well then, let’s say good night to your family. After all, I have a game tomorrow. I need a good night’s rest,” he replied with his charming smirk.
She patted his shoulder. “Your game is tomorrownight. You’ll get more rest than I will. I still have to work.”
“All the more reason for us to get out of here. Aren’t these things normally on a Friday or Saturday night? Why plan this for a Thursday night anyway?” he asked.
She couldn’t help the laughter that escaped. “Clearly the upper-level partners, who barely work on Fridays as it is. It makes a great excuse for them to take the day off. It was also probably cheaper for the bar association.”
“I’m not complaining,” he was quick to interject with a smile. “I wouldn’t have been able to come with you if it had been on another night, so it seems like fate to me.”
Fate would explain so much, she thought.
CHAPTER 10
Don’t let the fear of striking out hold you back.
– George Herman “Babe” Ruth, Baseball Hall of Fame inductee, 1936
Javier rolled his desk chair back and stood to stretch. He was taking online classes towards a doctorate degree in sports management, and if he stayed on track he’d be done with the program in the fall.
He’d always loved playing baseball, but he’d also known he needed a career backup plan. He’d initially thought he might enjoy being a sports announcer or an analyst, but lately he’d been thinking about owning and operating a team of his own. He’d been looking at minor league and exhibition team operations, and if he could just stay in the big leagues for a couple seasons and keep his expenses low while rolling bank, he could probably buy into a team. Not full ownership, but a step in the direction of his ultimate goal.
He’d always been a hard worker and goal-oriented. He’d knocked out an undergraduate sports management degree while on scholarship and playing college ball for the University of Miami. And once drafted to the minors, he’d continued withtheir online master’s program. Being a student with a complex baseball schedule hadn’t left him much time to work, so when he had time, usually during the offseason, he’d worked construction like his father had. It had paid well and he’d learned many practical skills on the jobsites.
Thinking about those construction jobs was bittersweet. His father had been a master carpenter and Javier had loved working with him. However, it had been an accident on a construction site, just prior to his minor league draft, that had caused his father’s death.
His father had passed away far too young and Javi knew that his mother missed him as immensely as he did. Since his father’s death, a sense of incompleteness and loneliness that never really seemed to leave had nagged Javi. It was like a hollow feeling in his chest, like he’d lost a piece of himself when his father died. A piece that he’d never be able to replace.
He and his mother had clung to each other afterwards and it had been easy to convince her to move when he’d been drafted to the minors. Miami had been filled with memories of happier times, and Pensacola had given them both an escape from the constant reminders of the good man they’d lost.
