January
Willow
"Sources: Ronan Sinclair traded to Vancouver Tridents, details still pending.”
My heart stops beating for several seconds as I stare at my newsfeed.
This isn’t happening. How is this happening?
For the last several months, I’ve watched the trade headlines. I’ve kept my eyes and ears open for anything about my team. And at no point whatsoever did I hear even the faintest whiff of a rumour that we were looking for a starting first baseman.
Let alone the one I had sex with countless times over one night in Hawaii last fall.
Thankfully, my office door is closed, so no one bears witness to my freak-out as I drop my head into my hands and start to mutter. “No, no, no, no, no.” My pulse is racing, and I feel sweaty. Is this a panic attack? I think it might be.
Maybe it’s not true. I push away from my desk and stand up on shaky legs. Taking several deep breaths, I run my hands down the front of my cream-coloured sweater. I can’t let Lydia see me like this, and she’s the person to confirm whether or not my nightmare is true.
When I pull open my desk drawer to get out the small mirror I keep there, of course my gaze lands on a folded piece of paper that I tucked way in the back after I returned from Hawaii. It might not have been the smartest move, bringing a note with Ronan’s phone number on it in to work, but I told myself it was to serve as a reminder to never give into temptation like that again. Because it never ends well.
Little did I know…
Ignoring the note, I grab the mirror and check to make sure I don’t look as freaked-out as I feel. Exhaling once more, I put away the mirror, close the drawer, and stand up, brushing invisible lint off my pants.
I can do this. Everything’s fine. Nobody is going to know I slept with our new player… Or that it was the best sex of my freaking life. No big deal. No. Big. Deal.
I let out a silent scream, then take a few calming breaths before going to get the confirmation I really don’t want to hear.
Opening my office door, I walk the short distance down the hall to Lydia’s office, knock twice, and wait for her response.
“Come in.” Her nasally voice reaches me, and I open her door. “Oh good, it’s you,” she says, her gaze returning to her computer screen. Guaranteed she’s playing solitaire on there, not working. I’m no idiot, I know Lydia’s checked out and perfectly content to let me do her job.
“Hi, Lydia.” I clear my throat. “I, um, just saw a news headline I wanted to check with you, something about a player from Toronto being traded here?” My voice squeaks a little, but Lydia doesn’t seem to notice.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. That one. I saw the leak.”
I nod slowly, willing my heart to stop pounding out of my chest. “Right. So is it true?”
“It’s just sources. Nothing’s finalized.”
I blink slowly at that non-answer. “But are the sources telling the truth?”
Finally, Lydia glances up. “Well, yeah. Of course, they are. That’s why I wanted to see you, because I need you to get everything set up for when the player arrives next week to sign contracts. We’ll need the usual. Local media, socials, all of it. You can handle that, right?”
Can I handle the job? Yes. Can I handle the fact that Ronan Sinclair is going to be here in a week?
Not so sure about that.
“Of course. That will be fine.” I force the words out, even though, no, everything will not be fine. She waves her hand at me and I know I’ve been dismissed.
Good thing, because if I don’t get somewhere private before I lose it, this could get messy. Thankfully, I make it back to my office undisturbed. Closing the door behind me, I lean against the wood and sink down to the ground.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
For all that Ronan and I joked about fate, this feels more like karma coming to bite me in the ass. Fine, we didn’t date. But we did do a hell of a lot of other things that night. I thought I could justify it, knowing he would be on the other side of the country, far away from me when it was over.
And now? Now he’s going to be much, much closer.
I manage to make it through the rest of my day, fortunately without needing to interact with too many people. I might have one hell of a poker face normally, but today, that skill has abandoned me. Possibly due to the number of times I clicked over to my news feed to see that damn leak and then over to the Wolverines roster to stare at his photo.
