12
Caleb
I choose a gold Rolex from the rows of watches in my drawer and snap it onto my wrist. Next, I clasp the gold cufflinks my mother purchased for my thirtieth birthday and grab a yellow tie from the rows of folded ones next to my watch drawer.
The blue suit isn’t my usual color, but I’ve been told by my stylist that the black ones are too formal and intimidating and gray is no longer trending.
Brigitte, my sister-in-law, insisted on the stylist when my brother and I started our third corporation together six months ago. Brigitte and the publicist insist that me and my brother Michael be the faces of the brand, at least when we launch the company in a few months. So, now I have an image consultant and a stylist, and they’re both pains in the ass.
But Michael really wanted this company, and he’s the one running the show, so the least I can do is put on a blue suit.
I take the elevator down to the sixth floor where the front office staff all work. I became part owner of the MLB New York Lions two years ago, and rather than commuting from Manhattan to Queens every day, I turned a few of the offices on the tenth floor into my living quarters. For a bachelor, it’s more than enough for me, and I don’t have to deal with traffic.
“Good morning, Trevor,” I say, passing my assistant on the way to my corner office.
He’s wearing a gray suit and tie, and I wonder if Brigitte’s stylist is wrong.
While on the phone, Travis says, “One second, please,” and then turns to me. “Good morning, sir. Before you go in there, you should know there’s a woman in your office who says she has urgent business with you. I told her she needs to make an appointment, but she insisted.”
“It’s fine. I’ll deal with it.”
As soon as I open the office door, a strong waft of perfume hits me, and I cover my mouth to muffle a cough. The woman’s back is turned. She has long brown, wavy hair and for a moment, my heart stops.
Then she turns around. Her big blue eyes are outlined in black liner and her mouth curls into an exaggerated pout.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
She pushes her hair back. Her dress barely covers half of her breasts and the string at her waist falls limply, as though it’s about to unravel .
“Yes, I think you can, Mr. Consuelos.” She walks up to me and, with one quick tug, unties her dress completely. She stands before me in the skimpiest black lace bra and underwear. “I think you can help me very much.”
Ah, fuck.
I turn away from her and walk over to my desk. “I think you’ve been misinformed. It’s best if you leave now.”
She stares at me, but I keep my head down, pretending to log in to my laptop.
“But this is how your best friend fell in love with his wife,” she explains. “You said it was romantic, and that you appreciated the initiative. You said that. I saw it on a TikTok.”
“I did. You’re right. And it worked for my friend, but not for me. I’m sorry you wasted your time coming down here, but you need to leave.”
She yanks her dress shut and ties it aggressively over her waist, covering herself much more conservatively this time. “You’re such a liar and a fake.”
She storms out of the office, and I sit in my leather chair and stare out the window. That blasted viral video won’t go away. Just when I think it’s over, another content creator picks it up and the ambushes start all over again.
I pick up the phone and call Trevor. He answers immediately. “Yes, sir?”
“Trevor, I don’t care what reason, excuse, or explanation they give. No one is to be permitted into my office again without an appointment.”
“I’m sorry, sir. She had a business card and sounded very sincere.”
“I’m sure she’s a talented actress. Many of them are. But this ends today.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“Thank you. Now, have you heard from Arty Cohen, Guerrero’s agent?”
“Yes. He said he’s willing to meet with you this afternoon at Dimitri’s. He said around three.”
“Perfect. That’s great news. Thanks, Trevor.”
I hang up the phone and call Devina, one of the other owners. “D, I think it’s going to happen today.”
Devina’s raspy voice sounds cynical, and I picture her rolling her eyes. “What’s going to happen?”
“Guerrero will sign the contract today. I can feel it.”
“You said that when you booked a vacation to St. Kitts.”
“I know, but as I explained, there was an unfortunate accident then. There are no distractions now.”
“Yes. I recall you mentioning the accident, but I don’t recall why it took you six days to return to New York.”
My lips twitch. “The view was incredible. ”
“The view, huh? I don’t get you, Cal. So secretive, so mysterious. One day, I’ll figure you out.”
“Nothing much to figure out, D. I just don’t talk about my personal life.”
“Too bad for me, as mine is non-existent.”
Devina works as much as I do.
“You might try getting interviewed by some fake reporter and say how it’s romantic that your friend met his wife when she barged into his hotel room.”
“Shit. Did it happen again?”
“Yup.”
“If that ever happens to me, I’ll shoot the fucker. Nobody better drop their pants in front of me unless I’m holding a whip and tell them to.”
I bark with laughter and sign off on the call. “Talk to you later, D.”
“Ciao.”
The next few hours fly by, and I’m consumed by stats and financial figures. Taking on Guerrero will be a huge chunk of our budget, but I think it’ll be worth it. He made the All-Star team last year and won the HomeRun Derby. I believe he’ll be one of the game’s most celebrated players in three to five years, and by then we won’t be able to afford him. If I can convince him to join the Lions now, we’ll have a real run for the championship .
It's been a dream of mine since I played little league. I thought I’d have to give up that dream when I injured myself in college, but thanks to some hedge funds and good connections, I became part owner and now it’s my life ambition to bring the World Series home again.
The first part of my plan is to sign Teoscar Guerrero.
My phone alarm beeps, and I put away my papers and leave for my meeting with Arty. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Trevor.”
“See you later.”
The taxi is parked outside. I barely shut the backseat door when my phone rings.
“Hey Brigitte, how’s it going?”
“Good, Cal. How are you? Are you busy?”
“A little. What can I do for you?”
I rub my hand over my blue pants. I shouldn’t have worn wool today. It’s warmer than usual outside, especially with the sun shining into the backseat.
“I’d like you to come up to the summer house this weekend.”
“But it’s only March. I’ve got three months before I need to make excuses again.”
“Ha, so you admit you’re avoiding it.”
“You know it’s not my thing. It’s a lot of tiny sandwiches and large egos. While I’m used to the egos, probably because I have one myself, I prefer to steer clear on the weekends. ”
“Come on, Cal. It’ll be fun. I’ve invited Trudy Hazan up this weekend. Her family owns that vodka company. They could be a great partner for the new business, and she keeps asking me about you. I told her you’re single.”
“Bridge, I really need you and everyone on the internet to stay out of my love life.”
“It’ll look better for the company if you were engaged instead of a bachelor.”
“It’s a fragrance company. No one cares about that stuff,” I say.
“Research shows that people do.”
“Look, send my regards to Trudy, but I won’t be making her acquaintance this weekend.”
“Next week?”
“No.”
“Cal?”
“I’m sorry, Brigitte, but you’ll have to use your matchmaking skills on someone else. I’ve got to go. Tell Michael that I’ll see him later.”
The car pulls up to the restaurant and I hop out, straightening my jacket and tie before walking inside.
The restaurant is dark, but I spot Arty sitting at the bar near the back.
“Can I help you, sir?” asks the hostess.
“I found whom I’m looking for. I’ll just see myself there. Thanks. ”
Arty’s wearing a wrinkled suit, which I assume was black several years ago. Despite his appearance, he’s the sharpest sports agent in the industry right now. “Arty, good to see you.”
He stands and shakes my hand. “Cal, good to see you, too.”
“Did my assistant get the time wrong? I thought you said three, but it’s only a quarter to right now.”
“No, no. I just had another meeting earlier and came straight from there.”
“Another meeting?”
“Yeah.”
“With who?”
“You know I can’t tell you that. There are several teams interested in Guerrero.”
I suspected, but having Arty confirm it unsettles me. Guerrero’s current contract isn’t up for another six months. I thought I was ahead of the game.
“What are you drinking? I’ll get you another.”
“Scotch on the rocks.”
I order two, except mine is neat. “I have a table for us by the window. The server will bring our drinks there.”
“I thought Guerrero would be at this meeting. Is he coming later?”
“No,” he runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “He’ll come when he’s made his final decision. ”
I clasp my hands. “How will he decide if I can’t speak with him?”
“I heard you had the opportunity in St. Kitts. That was quite the coincidence.” Arty takes a sip of his drink, watching me over the rim.
I keep my face serene. “It was. Perhaps it’s fate.”
Arty nods. “Maybe. He said you were there with a woman. Nice touch to make it less suspicious.”
“I met her there. We didn’t go together.”
“Really? I hear you two were quite cozy.”
“Yeah, well, it’s over now.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Mmm. You seem upset about that.”
“I think we’re getting sidetracked.” And yes, I don’t like talking about Charlotte. Whenever I think about her, I feel this pain in my chest and despite the lengths I went through to find her, it’s impossible. There are a million small towns in America, and millions of Charlottes in them. Just as many teachers, too. For a while, I considered hiring a PI, but my life is way too busy to get embroiled in a relationship right now. It was fun while it lasted, but I realized that time in St. Kitts won’t be more than an incredible memory.
I lean in toward him. “Let’s talk about this contract, Arty. What will it take to get Teo to sign with us? I’m willing to pull out all the stops for him.”
“Like what? ”
“He’ll be the highest paid outfielder in the league, a house in the Hamptons, whatever car he wants, you name it.”
“He’s not interested in those things.”
“Then what’s he interested in?”
Arty shrugs. “It’s hard to explain, but when someone figures it out, Teo will be very loyal.”
“Why are you being coy? Just tell me what it is.”
Arty throws back the rest of his drink and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “This is the way he wants it. And frankly, it’s fun watching you bigwigs jump hoops trying to figure it out. Don’t worry, Cal. You’re on the right track. At least you were in St. Kitts. You’ll just have to bring on more of that.”
He stands up and throws a twenty on the table, but I hand it back to him. “I’ve got this.”
“See you around, Cal.”
“Wait, Arty. What did I do in St. Kitts that he liked? You’ve got to tell me.”
“Can’t. But I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
Arty salutes me with the side of his hand, and I narrow my eyes at his smile. He’s enjoying this cat-and-mouse game way too much.
Am I a fucking mind reader? How am I supposed to know what Teo liked about me on that trip? Did it have something to do with Charlotte? Is he a family man? I shake my head and sip my drink. Nah, I don’t get that feeling from him. Did he like how aggressive I was by showing up in St. Kitts? Does he like the chase? Maybe. He’s playing games right now, but I hate games. Rather, I hate losing, and that won’t happen with Guerrero.
I already lost her, and I’m obviously still salty about that.