Chapter 42 Emmett
Emmett
Well, I’m going out with a win, so that’s something, I guess.
I wasted as much time as I could. Held off as long as I could as I sat in my office. But now the players are gone, and the advisory board meeting is going to be starting any minute if it hasn’t already.
It’s not that I’m dreading this part. I’m not at all, actually. I know in my bones this is the right thing to do. That my motives are true. But these are my last few moments being the field manager for the Windy City Warriors and I want to soak in every second I can.
So yeah, I’m taking my time.
That time dwindles down as I ride the elevator to the top floor, and I take it all in on the long walk down to the conference room. I give Reese’s office door a long stare as I pass by it.
It’s not as if I’m never going to be back here. Reese will still own this team. Isaiah will still play here. Kai and Kennedy will still be on the staff. But this is the last time I will be.
As I near the floor-to-ceiling windows that make up the conference room walls, I spot Scott already running his mouth about something.
Pompous in the way he leans back in his chair.
Smug in the way he smiles at Reese.
Reese.
Sitting at the head of the table, she’s dressed to the nines per usual, and not showing any signs of weakness as she listens to him.
Blonde hair is styled sharp to hit just below the line of her jaw, and she’s wearing heels that look severe enough that she could puncture Scott’s tiny little dick if she wanted.
Her expression, as she listens to him ramble on, is screaming that she wants to.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her since she showed me the pictures in the dugout yesterday morning. Just seeing her again, even through a glass partition, reenforces my resolve to do what I need to do.
I push open the door to the conference room, just as Scott says, “We’ll take a vote. All in favor of Reese stepping down as President of Baseball Operations, raise your hand.”
Scott’s hand flies up immediately.
“There’s no need for a vote,” I cut in, letting the door close behind me. “It won’t matter. I quit.”
Silence stalls the rest of the group from voting before chaos ensues in the conference room.
“What?”
“No, you’re not!”
“Absolutely not, Monty!” are all blurted out by the advisory board members as they talk over one another.
“You’re not quitting,” Scott states, a bit of panic etched on his face.
“Yes, I am. No way in hell will I work for you.”
“That’s not part of the—”
“Part of the what?” I test. “Were you going to say it’s not part of the deal? Is that what you’re calling it now?”
“What is he talking about?” Phil asks, eyes shooting to Scott.
The room is uneasy. There’s an obvious confusion happening, from both me storming in here to quit my job as well as Scott randomly coming up with a vote to take Reese’s position out from under her.
“Emmett,” Reese says coolly, standing from her seat at the head of the table. “You’re not quitting your job. Take a seat. I’ve got this.”
“Yep. Great.” I do as she says, taking the chair next to Ed.
Ed smiles at me, as if he were welcoming me to a dinner table and not the battleground I just stepped into.
Reese looks absolutely lethal with the way she stands at the head of the table, hands flat on the top of it, blue eyes scorching Scott in his seat.
So fucking hot, I swear.
“We’re not voting on anything here.”
He lifts a testing eyebrow. “You really want to play this game?”
“We don’t vote. That’s not how it works, and you especially don’t get to vote me out of my job. There’s only one opinion that matters, and it’s mine. This is my club. This is my team. Whatever I say goes.
“I’ve let the four of you intimidate me for long enough. You seem to have forgotten who signs your paychecks. You work for me, not the other way around. In this working relationship there’s only one of us that’s irreplaceable. And that’s me. Understand?”
“Reese,” Scott seethes. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Firing you.”
Fuck me, she is so hot.
“I’ll release them.” Scott stands from his seat as well. “Do not test me.”
“Release what?” Phil asks.
“Photos of Emmett and me,” she says simply. “Oh yeah, we’re together. Surprise! And Scott had us followed and photographed so he could blackmail me into giving him my position.”
Phil and the rest of the board, besides Ed, seem utterly shocked. Maybe over the news about her and me. Maybe over the realization of what Scott did.
“Go ahead, Scott. Release them.”
His jaw tics. “They’ll eat you alive, Reese.”
She shrugs so casually. “I can handle it.”
Reese has said that phrase to me so many times before.
I can handle it, or I’ll take care of it.
I’ve always insisted that she shouldn’t have to.
And it’s true again this time. She shouldn’t have to deal with the shit the press is going to say about her, but that’s not the point here. The point is, Reese can handle it.
Of course she can.
Here I was, thinking I was going to come in and save her, but she’s too busy saving herself.
Scott retakes his seat, but she stays standing, looming over the table.
There’s an eerie calm about her. She’s got so much fire in her, but it’s controlled and wielded perfectly to get her exactly what she wants.
I fucking love it.
She makes her next words perfectly clear, careful to enunciate each one slowly.
“Do not dare threaten me or what’s mine, ever again.” She points my way without looking in my direction. “And that includes him.”
I smack Ed in the arm before pointing to Reese. “That’s my girl.”
A grin twitches on Reese’s lips, but she doesn’t break her ruinous stare from the other four men.
“Reese . . .” Phil cuts in with a nervous chuckle. “We had no idea that he was—”
“I do not care if you didn’t know about this or if you weren’t involved with what Scott was attempting to do.
You four”—she gestures to everyone but Ed—“have disrespected me all season long. You have undermined me, attempted to set me up for failure. But this is my building. This is my team. I gave you months to remember that, but time is up.” She retakes her seat, leaning back in her chair.
“You four are fired effective immediately.”
“You can’t do that!” one of them argues.
“Actually, the crazy thing about me being the sole owner of this club is that I can! And the beautiful piece of all of this—honestly, it worked out so lovely for me—is that your salaries will help relieve some of the pressure on the budget and give room for Emmett’s well-deserved raise next season.
Isn’t that just great? Remember, Scott, when you wanted me to focus on the budget? Look at me. I found a solution!”
Scott stands from his seat, frantically trying to find a shred of hope for his plan. “You cannot be his boss! No one would think that was appropriate.”
I wave him off. “Oh, sit down and shut the fuck up, Scott.”
“It’s okay, Em,” Reese cuts in. “He’s right. I can’t be.”
My attention shoots to her. What the hell does that mean?
“But what you didn’t know, Scott, is that for the past week and a half, I’ve been meeting with our legal team as well as human resources, working on a solution so that I wouldn’t be Emmett’s direct supervisor. So I could still keep him on my staff.”
The last week and a half? We only found out about Scott’s threats yesterday.
“I know you thought I wouldn’t have had time to find a solution, seeing as you only gave me one day’s notice of this meeting, so lucky me, things were already in motion.”
She turns toward Ed. “Ed here will now serve as Vice President of Baseball Ops. He’ll be handling the coaching staff of not only our major league team, but also our minor league system.
All coaching hires, promotions, and salary negotiations will go directly through him, while I’ll continue to do the same for the players.
The new title comes with a nice raise too. So, congrats, Ed! Good on ya.”
He smiles knowingly at her. “Thank you, Reese. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“Well . . .” She exhales a long breath, a self-satisfied smile on her lips as she looks around.
Four speechless and stunned men stare back at her.
“That should about do it. Oh, one more thing.” She reaches into her bag, pulling out three packets and sliding them across the table to three of the four freshly fired board members.
“Your severance. Not that you deserve it, but I’ve got to keep things above board around here.
Clearly, you broke your contract, Scott, with that little threat of yours, so nothing for you. ”
She stands, hands on her hips, and nods as she looks around the room, really playing up the whole thing.
“Okay, yeah. That’s all I had. Great meeting. Thanks for calling everyone together, Scott.” She grabs her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “Security will escort you four to your cars.”
On her way to the exit, she runs her hand over my shoulder, giving me a squeeze before she goes. And as she walks out the door, her head is held high, as it should be.
This woman is truly in her own league in every sense of the phrase.
I’m sat here utterly speechless, and so fucking in love with her.
What the hell just happened?
I spent the past twenty-four hours mentally detaching myself from this job and coming to terms with losing it. But here I am, still employed, sitting in the field manager’s seat in the dugout, and trying to wrap my head around that.
Trying to wrap my head around everything.
It seems too good to be true. I’m still here. Reese is still here. We’re good. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to quite trust it yet. That doesn’t want to get my hopes up that things will be okay.
But it’s hard not to feel hopeful after watching Reese handle business the way she just did. Anyone who ever doubted she has what it takes to run this place should be eating their words right about now.
“I thought I might find you here.”