The sound of metal hitting metal is so loud it makes me wince.
“Oh, I— I’ll take care of it. I just need a minute to get out of workouts.” Tenny’s low, rushed words make my heart contort.
“No. I didn’t mean—” I stammer, my pulse jumping into my throat. “You can’t have her back. I love her.”
“You do?”
I bite my smiling lip. “I really do.”
Tenny’s shaky exhale sails across the line.
My head tilts, considering. “I don’t know how I’m going to get her across the country…”
“I’ll shepherd her home,” Tenny tells me, his natural exuberance resurfacing. “She can ride on the team jet. I’ll video call once we’ve boarded so you’ll know she’s safe. I’ll even buckle her up and everything.”
The thing is, I can imagine it. I can imagine Tenny, with his mega-watt smile, carrying the ginormous stuffed animal up the airstairs. He’ll probably tell the flight attendants the whole origin story before taking great care in securing a luxury seatbelt around my newfound stuffed animal.
The laugh I’d been restraining finally tumbles free, and this time, I don’t fight it.
After all the days of uncertainty, followed by grizzled determination to make a full recovery, I deserve a little levity. After doggedly completing my degree and working my tail off for this position, I’ve earned a quick break staring into the beady plastic eyes of my favorite animal.
Tenny mutters something, but I don’t quite catch it.
“What?” I ask after an indelicate snort.
“Nothing.”
I’m too giddy to press him on it.
After hanging up, I don’t do the mature thing and return to the office to start my daily meeting with Daphne. Instead, I fling open the passenger door and give my new friend the squeeze of a lifetime. Who cares if I’m a grown, twenty-six-year-old woman hugging a huge stuffed rodent? This sweet gal deserves a little love.
With the car door open, I snap a picture and text it to my sister. She immediately replies with a half dozen heart-eyed emojis before video calling me. Amelia looks like she’s sandwiched between two overflowing bookcases.
“Where are you?”
“In the archive abyss, pulling records from the nineties. The upside is, because I’m buried in here, I’ve got a second to chat.”
I launch into the backstory of my snuggly friend while strolling toward the ballpark. It’s only after I’ve hung up and I’m smiling at the picture I sent Amelia that Tenny’s murmured words click into my consciousness.
My head shakes, dismissing the thought, before I show security my press badge.
But as I climb the concrete stairs, Tenny’s husky, “I love your laugh,” is the only thing filling my mind.
Chapter 14
Alex
Daphne’s voice spilling into the hallway makes me slow my steps. Not for the first time, I’m glad I’m wearing soft-soled shoes.
“It’s just not what I signed up for. I’ve been doing this job for fifteen years. It’s always been baseball focused. We’d collect game previews, recaps, and quotes from players, but always in a respectful manner. If someone was in a slump, it would be noted. Same if defensive adjustments were made or if the lineup was transitioning, but other than casually reporting a marriage or birth of a child, we left the players’ personal lives out of it.”
“Now it’s different?” Mags asks.
“This new producer…” Daphne makes an irritated sound in her throat. “He comes from one of those gossip shows. You know the kind. They stalk celebrities and try to get unflattering pictures, always trying to dig up dirt.” She scoffs. “That might be okay for Hollywood, but it’s not the kind of journalism I want to be a part of.”
A cold weight settles in my stomach because I agree with Daphne. I’ve started pushing back against my producer Cecil’s suggestions because I want to have a successful career reporting on baseballwithoutresorting to cheap tactics.
Sliding my shoulder back, I clear my throat loudly before striding through the open door. “They just told me that the manager’s media session has been moved up an hour.”
