Baseball
Daniel
“Where are you now?”
Leaning forward, I look over the steering wheel through the windshield. Wrigley Field looms ahead, fully lit up. The sounds of a baseball game reach me even through the closed windows. I’m running late getting into the city so missed the start.
The people I’m meeting are already inside, in our corporate box. The game is in the sixth inning, which I know because I have it on the radio.
“Outside the ball field,” I say, turning off the engine.
“Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Daniel.”
“Jennifer,” I pick up the phone and hold it to my ear, the Bluetooth disconnecting when I open the door. “You don’t need to check up on me. I’m a grown man.”
“A grown man whose life blew up.”
“Can we not discuss this? I’m already late as shit. I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary.”
“I’m just worried. It’s a big sister's right to worry about her baby brother, you know.”
“Maybe when I was five. I’m thirty -five.”
Because I’m so late, I’ve had to park further away from the entrance.
“Stop worrying. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Fine. Go schmooze those dinosaurs.”
“Those dinosaurs pay the bills. Goodbye.”
“Love you, Little Man.”
“Go screw yourself, old woman. Love you too.”
I hang up the phone before she can give me shit for calling her old. She isn’t that old, but there are nine years between us. My sister is a pain in the ass, but I love her. Calling me day and night to check on me is getting to be too much now. I’m not the first man to have a cheating wife and getting a divorce.
I’m not falling apart. I don’t have time. Late in the night, when I’m alone in bed in the new house, I force myself to admit I don’t feel the way people expect. Lauren and I fell out of love a long time ago. It took her cheating for us to admit it.
The impending divorce isn’t that much of a concern. Of course I’m upset about the demise of the relationship. Yes, I miss her too. We were friends before we became romantic partners. I’m definitely pissed about her fucking someone else. I’m just not all that cut up about it.
People don’t want to hear that. Especially Jennifer. She never liked Lauren, calling her a gold digger. Why she wants me to be hurt, I don’t know. Maybe so it justifies her giving Lauren shit. Knowing I’m less bothered than I should be makes it harder for her to lash out.
Our family doesn’t hurt for money. The company we own earns millions every year. Being the deputy CEO under my father, I reap those rewards.
Schmoozing the dinosaurs, as Jennifer so politely puts it, is all part of the game I’m good at.
Making my way inside, I head to the boxes overlooking home plate. I’ve been here so many times I don’t need directions. We own this box, and the cost is eye-watering, but it gets the job done. If I can close this multi-million-dollar deal today, it’s well worth it.
Slapping on my business face, I prepare to kiss some dinosaur ass.
After I’ve greeted everyone, listened to them tell me how amazing this is, and the box attendant brings over a beer, I join Reed Faulkner in the seats at the front of the box to watch the game. He’s Derek Faulkner’s son and is closer to my age and easier to work with.
Although that is true, he’s not the kind of guy I would normally associate with. He’s a well-known womanizer who can make reckless choices in his personal life, but in his professional he is business savvy.
The Cubs have been having a great season, so it’s an exciting game to watch, even if I have missed more than half of it. We don’t talk business, even though his partners keep trying to entice us away from the window.
We both know we don’t need their input. This is a perfect union that will make both of our companies a lot of money. It’s an easy decision.
It doesn’t take long to get Reed to metaphorically sign on the dotted line after the last ball is hit and the Cubs emerge the winners.
Internally, I pat myself on the back. Dad has been trying to land Faulkner for a while. If only he knew all it took was a few meetings with the younger Faulkner and a baseball game.
“So where can we party around here?” Reed asks. He’s from Boston and is visiting the city for this one deal.
“Party, how?” I think I know, given his reputation.
“Wherever there are women,” his grin is sleazy.
There is no way I want to hang out with this guy. Business wise, not a problem. Out in a social setting, of a bar no less, I can think of nothing worse.
The deal isn’t quite done, although we’ve shaken and everyone is happy. Until the lawyers get involved and the ink dries on the contract at the office tomorrow, this shit needs to keep going.
Lakeview is known for its nightlife. It’ll be busy once the game lets out and is my idea of hell. I tell him I’ll check out some places and leave to go talk to the box attendant. He’s mid-twenties and knows the area better than I do.
Back in college I came down this way, but it’s been a long time since I did anything other than come to the stadium.
“If you’re looking for girls, there is a club on North Clark.” The attendant dips his chin after I tell him what we’re looking for. “A gentleman’s club. It’s not like the joints you’re used to.”
A strip club. I know it. It’s not a gentleman’s club by any stretch of the imagination. Reed would love it but, I’m not going there.
“You know anywhere else?”
“Sure. There’s Blue’s Hideaway. It’s a decent place, good craft beer. And the atmosphere is laid back. A lot of women go there. They have dance nights unofficially. I went once, girls were up dancing on the bar, not for money or anything, just for enjoyment. It gets super busy and there’s no preferential treatment,” he eyes the men in suits.
He’s thinking these old dudes won’t want to go, but it’s just me and Reed.
Sounds better than a strip joint. I thank him, slip him a couple of twenties, and head back to let Reed know we’re going for a more authentic experience after we eat and have a few more drinks in the box.
Fortunately, he agrees.