Chapter 35 Reese
Reese
“I don’t know if there was one specific thing that contributed to our win tonight,” Emmett says into the microphone during the postgame press conference.
“Our pitching was phenomenal throughout all nine innings. Our defense was sharp. Our base running was aggressive at the right times. Overall, it was a team win.”
I watch from my spot in the back of the media room. Behind all the reporters, I lean on the doorway that leads out into the hallway.
“You guys are on a five-game win streak,” a reporter says. “Can we contribute any of that to Jones joining the lineup?”
“I think having Milo join the team has been great. He has an eagerness to learn. The vets are enjoying having him around. Overall, I would say the entire organization has a new . . . energy lately.”
Emmett’s eyes flick to mine for the briefest of moments, a smirk tilting one side of his mouth.
He and I definitely have a new energy lately.
“And by the way.” He sits forward to speak into the microphone. “Our current President of Baseball Ops, Reese Remington, is the one who discovered Milo a few years back. Thought I should clear that up for all of you. And if you ask me, he was a hell of a find.”
A few heads turn my way.
He didn’t need to give me that credit, but of course he did so anyway.
Standing in the shadows, I offer a polite lift of my hand to get the attention off me again. I shouldn’t even be in this room, but I have a hard time staying away from the field manager these days.
Once they turn their attention back to the front stage where Emmett sits under the bright lights, I risk another glance his way.
Smug and satisfied, resting back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. So proud of himself for dropping that little anecdote.
The postgame interview continues, winding down the long day, but I should get going. I’ve been on the road for the last two nights and instead of going home this morning when I landed back in Chicago, I headed straight for Emmett’s place.
I decide to stay for one last question, simply because I enjoy Emmett’s point of view on his team, when someone slides into the space next to me.
“Reese.”
Unfortunately, I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
Every muscle in my body goes rigid at the realization of who is next to me. In this building I love so much. This place that holds so many of my favorite memories. I had mentally prepared myself to run into him while I was in New York, but not here.
“Jeremy. What are you doing here?” I ask my ex-husband.
He leans onto the wall next to me. “One of our umpires has been missing some calls. I needed to watch him live. He happened to be calling your game today, so I figured it was the perfect one to come see.”
I hate that he’s here. I hate that we’re in the same industry and it’s his literal job to come to my stadium. I also hate that he tried to take it from me.
And I hate that I wasn’t angrier about it then. I was hurt, yes. But I should’ve been angrier.
Because how dare he?
Now that I’m here and this is all mine, I can’t begin to fathom the idea of losing it. I can’t imagine having it taken away, but even more so, I can’t conceive how someone who I thought loved me would ever try.
A slow fire begins to stir in my bones. I might be a few years late but I’m angry now.
“So, you and Monty, huh?”
I whip in his direction. “What?”
His laugh is dry. “Really, Reese? It’s clear as day. I saw the way you were looking at him up there. I just find it hard to believe that you left me over this job and now you’re risking it by sleeping with your employee.”
Shit.
Fear and anxiety twine around my stomach. Realization steals the color from my face. How did he pick up on that? How did he notice something that he’s never witnessed for himself before?
One thing is for certain, I never looked at Jeremy the way I look at Emmett.
He can’t be the first person I tell. It doesn’t feel right. What’s going on with Emmett is far too special for Jeremy to be involved in it in any way.
My attention shifts to the front of the room to find that Emmett’s previous smile is long gone. The muscle in his jaw tics as he answers reporters. His eyes continue to flash to me and my ex-husband after every couple of words.
“Don’t worry,” Jeremy whispers. “I’m not going to say anything.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do, Reese. Don’t forget that we were married once. I know you.”
Wow. He can go fuck himself with that.
“What’s so wild about that statement, Jeremy, is that, married or not, you’ve never known me. That’s become very clear.”
Not in the way I feel known now.
I risk one more glance in Emmett’s direction, and he looks downright lethal sitting at the front of the room. Tension is clear in his posture, clearly frustrated that he can’t get to me right now. The way he’s angrily focused on Jeremy seems similar to the level of the fury I have brewing inside.
Pushing off the doorway, I turn to leave.
“Oh,” I add before I go. “And I didn’t leave you because of a job.
I left you because you tried to take something from me that wasn’t yours to have.
Maybe if you had helped me protect it instead of attempting to steal it, I would’ve been inclined to share.
But I’m glad you didn’t.” I point down the hall.
“So, I’m going to go. To my office. Which is on the top floor of the stadium I own. Have a good trip home, Jeremy.”
Once I’m out of that room, the fire doesn’t tamp down in the slightest. Every step I take away from him seems to stoke it. It’s as if the hurt and anger I should’ve already worked through is all coming to head at this very moment.
And it hits me like a brick wall as to why it’s happening now.
The reason it’s sinking in all these years later is because I’ve met someone who would never dream of doing what my ex-husband did. In contrast, Emmett wants this so much for me that he’d do anything to protect it. He’d risk his own career for the sake of mine.
And that makes me angry.
Because for years, Jeremy let me believe that the only way I’d be loved was for what I could offer. I’m angry at myself for believing that.
I’m angry that he fucked me up so badly I thought being alone was my only option. I’m angry that he broke something inside of me.
Emmett came around and healed something that wasn’t his to fix, and I’m angry that he had to.
I hesitate when I reach the elevator, tempted to go hide in the dugout and clear my head the way I so often do. But I don’t want any part of that safe place to be tainted by my anger toward someone who tried to steal this from me.
Instead, I go to my office, exactly as I said I would.
Passing the empty receptionist desk, I slam my office door closed.
Fuck him for coming here without giving me a heads-up. I could’ve prepared myself. He knew what he was doing, catching me off guard.
Rounding my desk, I push my chair out of the way and stand over it. Palms flat on the top, head hung low.
I was in survival mode when I took over this role. Desperate to prove myself. Equally desperate to prove my ex-husband wrong. I don’t want to go back to that place mentally, but I can feel the anxiousness stirring inside. I’m worked up. I need an outlet.
I need . . . I don’t know what I need. I just need to forget I was ever his.
My door flies open.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Emmett booms, charging in like he owns the place.
It’s no wonder everyone thinks there’s something going on between us. Throwing open my door like he has every right to.
“You can’t just barge into my office!”
“Then hire a fucking receptionist to keep me out!”
Something stirs in me from hearing the anger in his voice.
Maybe this is what I need. Maybe I need a fight. I never used to fight with Jeremy because there was nothing to fight for. But with Emmett, it feels safe to fight with him because I know we’re fighting for the same thing.
Emmett’s tone drops to a menacing level. “What the hell is he doing here, Reese?”
“He’s working. What do you want me to do about that?”
“Kick him out. I don’t want him in your stadium.”
Your stadium.
We so often banter about who has the right to what. The dugout. The clubhouse. The team. But with the conversation involving my ex-husband, the way Emmett gives me full ownership doesn’t go unnoticed.
Emmett is still worked up the way I am as he takes slow steps toward my desk.
“In case there’s any miscommunication here, let me clear a few things up for you.
” He dips his head, eyes piercing mine under his heavy brow.
“You are mine. That night we finally got together, when you said you wanted to make me yours, that goes both ways. You are mine, Reese, and if I need to go make sure he fucking realizes that, I will. Or is it you who needs reminding?”
This. This is what I need.
I need to feel like his.
I need him to remind me that I am.
I need him to erase any memories of a time that I wasn’t.
Lifting my chin defiantly, I look him square in the eye. “Prove it.”
He stops in his tracks, brows lifting. “What did you just say to me?”
“Prove it. Prove that I’m yours.”
He exhales an ominous laugh, turning to pace his same path. “Don’t say something like that to me unless you want me to follow through. You don’t want to play this game with me, Reese. I’m too fired up to be smart right now.”
I don’t care that we’re in my office. I don’t care that this is a terrible idea. At this point, I’m too worked up to even pretend to care.
“Prove. It.”
Those two words settle into the space between us.
He slowly nods, tongue running over his teeth. “Just remember that you asked for this.” Tension lines the room as he flips the lock on my office door. “You know that I respect you, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes. Of course I do.”
“Good. Remember that. Because it’s about to seem like I don’t.”
“What does that me—”