Chapter 39 Reese
Reese
Cloud nine.
I’m not sure I’ve been on it before, but it sure feels like it today.
I probably shouldn’t allow myself to feel so carefree this morning, but I can’t help it. Thoughts of last night have me floating right down the hall to my office.
Being out in public with Emmett, spending time with his family, I wish every day could be like that. If we met under different circumstances, if he wasn’t my employee, it could be.
But it never could have been someone else, could it?
It was always going to be Emmett. We were two people who were lonelier than we realized and only found each other because we had the same hiding place.
It only makes sense that the person I fell for is the manager who spends as much time at the field as I do. Who loves the team the same way I do, even if I didn’t want to admit it initially.
The players are off today, no doubt still recovering from last night’s wedding. But I have too many meetings ahead of me to do the same. The top floor is full. All of the front-office staff is working today. I offer a few smiles and waves as I pass by their office windows, headed for mine.
I’d find the skip in my step to be a bit annoying if I were watching me strut down the hall. But I can’t help it. Life is good.
Stopping by the coffee station, I pour myself a cup before adding a splash of cream.
Then I take a brown sugar cube from the small glass jar and plop it in my mug.
Brown sugar cubes were an addition I found here one morning a few days after my grandfather’s retirement party. No doubt Emmett’s doing.
With my mug in hand, I turn in for my office, coming face-to-face with the empty receptionist desk just outside my door.
The interviews I conducted for a new receptionist were promising. There were some good candidates. Some great ones, even. But I didn’t have it in me to hire someone. I know I should. I know I technically need one, but there’s something about having an open door this season that I’ve enjoyed.
I enjoy that players can come to me if they need something.
I enjoy that the staff can come directly to me with any concerns they may have.
And I enjoy that Emmett can get to me anytime he wants.
I don’t know. Maybe I won’t hire anyone. Maybe the door will remain open for the rest of my time here.
But that notion flies right out of the window when I step into my office and find Scott sitting in a chair opposite my desk, his back to me, looking out my view.
Sure, I have a lineup of meetings today, but none of them are with him.
“Scott?” I ask, rounding my desk and placing my mug on the coaster I leave next to my computer.
“Reese.”
“I don’t have you on my schedule, and I don’t have extra time today.”
“If I were you, I’d make time for this conversation.”
My senses go on high alert, prickling my skin uncomfortably.
“What can I help you with?” I ask.
And why were you in my office without me?
I don’t look at him, firing up my computer and focusing on a few emails I need to reply to. Trying my best to not let his presence throw me off.
Out of my periphery, I watch the smug bastard lean back in the chair, stretching his legs out and crossing his hands over his stomach. “You can help me by involving me in the team as I’ve been requesting all year.”
I roll my eyes, but they’re locked on the computer screen. “We’ve discussed this, Scott. You’re involved with the advisory board, but I’ve taken over the baseball operations for the club. I’m glad you were able to help my grandfather when he needed it, but I do not need that same help.”
The truth is, he didn’t help my grandfather. He made slimy moves that pushed us into debt, knowing my grandfather was too tired to notice. But I don’t have the energy to explain all that today. I don’t owe him an explanation anyway.
Scott, as well as the rest of the advisory board, are compensated well for their advice.
Even the ill-intentioned advice that’s delivered in a disrespectful manner.
I’ve kept them on as a courtesy to my grandfather and because it felt like the right thing to do when I took over this role.
I was new. I wanted to learn. But they haven’t wanted to teach me anything. They’ve wanted me to fail.
Or in this case, they’ve wanted my job.
“You see, about that.” Scott sits forward. “I don’t just want to help. I want the title I deserve after all the years of work I put in with Arthur. I want you to name me President of Baseball Operations.”
I don’t even look in his direction. “No.”
“You’re unqualified, Reese.”
“Just because you want to assume I’m unqualified doesn’t make that true. I have trained for this position for my entire life. This is not up for discussion, Scott.”
“You’ve trained for this your entire life, yet you’re willing to risk it?”
That finally earns my attention, and my eyes tick up to look at him. “What does that mean?”
His smile slowly stretches his mouth. It has a superiority to it, as if he were seconds away from calling checkmate. “Did you have fun last night, Reese?”
What the hell?
My stomach dips at the mere insinuation.
I keep my eyes glued to him, willing him to explain the rest.
“Not so confident playing the big scary boss now, are you?” He pulls an envelope from behind his back, tossing it on the desk between us. “It looked like you had a great time to me.”
I don’t touch it. I don’t want to play this game.
“Go ahead, Reese. I think you’ll agree. You looked fucking thrilled in those pictures.”
Keeping my eyes locked on him, I hesitantly grab the envelope, opening the flap and finally glancing inside.
The first thing that catches my eye is the bright lilac of the dress I wore last night.
Then Emmett’s dark green suit.
The flashes of bright string lights dotted along the top edges of the photographs matching the same ones that illuminated the dance floor last night.
Anxiety wraps me up, stealing the color from my face as I piece together what exactly I’m looking at.
The first photo is of Emmett and me sitting closely together, my head on his shoulder during the reception.
The next is an image of us dancing together, his hand holding mine to his chest, his smiling lips dangerously close to mine.
In the third you can clearly see his tattooed hand palm the back of my head as he bends to kiss me.
And the last one I’m able to stomach looking at is a photo of me talking to Miller, but that’s not the focus of this image.
The reason Scott included this particular photo is because of Emmett.
As I talk to his daughter, his eyes are locked on me.
Physically, nothing in this photo is incriminating.
But it’s the way he’s looking at me. Adoration lines his features.
He’s watching me as if he were in love with me.
My heart hammers in my chest. My skin chills with panic. Dread twists my gut.
There’s plenty more photos, but I don’t flip through them. I don’t need to see any more.
There’s no use in denying anything. It’s clearly us in these photographs, and I hate that images from a night as special as Emmett’s daughter’s wedding are going to be used against us.
I close the envelope, tossing it onto the desk.
Somehow, I manage to push the words past the lump in my throat to ask, “You had us followed?”
“Found a kid on the catering staff who didn’t sign an NDA. Threw him a few hundred bucks to confirm my suspicions.” He admits it so carelessly, as if this isn’t the most intrusive thing he could’ve done. And of all nights, of all places, he had to do it there?
“And you printed them out? First of all, what year is it? And second, there’s nothing that says that Emmett and I can’t have a relationship.”
“Oh, bullshit, Reese! Legally, maybe not. Apparently, you get to do whatever the hell you want being the sole owner of this club. But morally?” His laugh carries an evil edge.
“You’re his direct supervisor. He’s up for a new contract.
You know how easy this is going to be to spin in the media?
Either you’ll be the owner who coerced her employee into a relationship, or he’ll be the field manager who slept his way into a new contract.
You’re fucked either way, and so is he. He’ll be lucky if he lands himself another coaching job after this one. ”
I push up from my seat, hands on the desk. “Do not threaten him.”
He stands as well. “Then don’t make me.”
We stand off with one another.
I couldn’t care less about my reputation right now, but I am worried about his. If I could do anything in this moment, it’d be to protect Emmett.
“What do you want?” I finally ask.
“You know exactly what I want. Name me president and I won’t say a word.”
“You’re blackmailing me? Seriously?”
“That’s a strong word, Reese. All I’m suggesting is you name me president so those pictures won’t go anywhere.
Monty keeps his job, but you’ll step back.
You’ll still be the owner, of course. No one can take that from you.
” Scott uses his hands to imitate that he was reading off a marquee sign.
“The first female team owner in the league. Geez. What a bad look, Reese. Way to represent women in sports, or whatever the hell you thought you were doing.”
He pushes the envelope toward me. “Go ahead and keep those. I have more.”
I think I’m going to be sick.
“Don’t look so sad about this,” he continues.
“We’ll have an advisory board meeting tomorrow.
We’ll call for a vote. Make it look like an in-house decision for you to step down and for me to take over.
Or . . .” He tilts his head from side to side, as if he were contemplating another option.
“Those photos get leaked to the right people. We both know by now there’s plenty of media sources who aren’t your biggest fan.
They’ll get the word out. Then it’s good luck to you in hopes of ever being taken seriously again. ”
Scott takes a deep breath, a satisfied grin on his mouth as he says, “Do the right thing for the team, Reese. You’re a liability at this point.”
Then he exits my office, leaving me alone with an impossible decision to make.