Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Olivia
I step into my cousin Trey’s loft and freeze.
I saw this place when he first bought it a year ago. Back then it was one big space with exposed brick walls and overhead wooden beams.
When he came over to my apartment one Saturday afternoon during the off-season, I forced him to watch a marathon of home improvement and design shows with me in hopes that he’d get inspired and transform his empty loft into a home.
He did.
The loft now has defined areas, including a massive chef’s kitchen, a living room with a gas fireplace and what I presume to be a large primary suite down a wide hallway.
It’s decorated tastefully in earthy masculine tones, unlike the eclectic mix of antique and thrift store finds that I’ve furnished my apartment with.
“You’re here.” Trey shuts the door behind me. “How’s my favorite cousin?”
I sigh when he pulls me into a tight embrace.
He’s always been more like a brother to me than a cousin. Our mothers are sisters and we grew up spending every vacation together.
I pull back and look up into his dark eyes. “I’m good. What about you? You’re the one who is balancing the hopes of an entire city on your shoulders.”
“I play the best game I can every time. With any luck, we win some.” He laughs as he motions toward the kitchen. “I’ll grab you a can of that soda you like.”
I’m touched that he remembers. “I didn’t take you away from anything important, did I?”
He glances back at me as he pours the soda into a tall glass. “I had practice this morning. I’m going over a few things with my agent this afternoon, but he’s in the office on a call.”
He points toward the hallway.
I glance in that direction as I curl my hand around the glass. “I hope you know that I wouldn’t have asked for you to sign a jersey for just anyone, but as I said on the phone last night, it’s for a ten-year-old boy.”
I called Trey before Kate left my apartment.
I explained that I briefly met someone who had one of his autographed jerseys, but it had been stolen. Before I could get another word out, Trey told me to stop by this afternoon to pick up a replacement.
“I’m happy to help out, Olivia.” He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans to tug out his cell phone. “My mom sent me a picture this morning.”
I smile when he turns the phone around. It’s a picture of our moms on a beach in Hawaii. They bought a timeshare on Maui a few years ago and they take advantage of it as often as they can in the fall and winter.
The rest of their time is spent in a condo in Boston.
Both of our moms are widowed and their shared grief forged a close bond between the two of them.
I don’t remember my dad since he died before my fifth birthday, but Trey’s dad was a driving force in my life until he passed ten years ago.
“Look how tanned they are.” I laugh. “They’re living their best lives right now.”
“As they should.” He leans his forearms on the kitchen island. “Are you living your best life?”
I pull on the arm of my off-the-shoulder gray sweater. I slid it on after my yoga class ended thirty minutes ago.
I thought about going home to shower and change into something more presentable than the fraying sweater and gray yoga pants I’m wearing, but Trey has seen me at my absolute worst. I knew he wouldn’t care what I look like.
“Hale.” A man’s voice calls from behind me. “You didn’t tell me that we were expecting company.”
I turn to the sight of a gray-haired man dressed in navy blue slacks and a light blue V-neck sweater. Silver rimmed eyeglasses sit on his nose.
“This is my cousin.” Trey drops a hand on my shoulder. “Olivia, this is my agent.”
“Buck Remsen.” The man pushes a hand at me. “I finally get to meet the Olivia Hull.”
I take his hand for a quick shake before I gaze back at Trey. “The Olivia Hull?”
My cousin rakes a hand through his hair. It’s the same shade as mine. “I talk about you from time-to-time. All good things, Livi.”
I smile at the nickname his dad gave me with when we were kids.
“From what I’ve heard, you’re the one who coached him to be the player that he is today,” Buck says with a gleam in his eye.
I toss my head back in laughter.
“Don’t laugh, Olivia.” Trey chuckles. “You were the only person who would stand at home plate so I could practice pitching.”
“You were seven and I was five.” I hold up my hand, wiggling my fingers. “To be clear, Trey, I’d never do it now.”
“Neither would I.” Buck opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of water. “I want to see my next birthday, so I’m never getting in front of one of your curve balls.”
“Olivia is here to pick up the jersey I signed earlier.” Trey rounds the island I’m standing next to.
“For the kid?” Buck takes a swallow of water. “I was on the phone just now arranging club seats for game one of the series for him and a guest. We’ll have a gift pack waiting there for him.”
“A gift pack?” I ask, looking at Buck.
“The autographed jersey and a ball signed by the team.” Buck smiles, tugging a phone from the pocket of his jacket. “We’ll throw in a cap and a varsity jacket. This kid is going to have a birthday he’ll never forget.”
This goes above and beyond what I requested. “I don’t know what to say.”
“What’s the boy’s name?” Buck’s gaze drops to his phone. “We’ll give him a Hale jersey, but we’ll personalize the jacket for him.”
“I don’t know his name,” I confess softly. “I know his uncle’s name. He’s the one who had his autographed jersey stolen.”
“What’s the uncle’s name?” Trey asks.
“Alexander Donato,” I answer quickly.
Buck’s head pops up, his brown eyes searching my face. “The conductor? It’s his nephew?”
I nod.
“Who?” Trey’s brow furrows. “I’ve never heard the name before.”
“Learn it quick.” Buck’s mouth slides into a wide smile. “You’re going to do a meet and greet with Donato and his nephew before the big game and with any luck, a video capture of that will go viral.”
Shit. My well-intentioned gesture is turning into a publicity stunt.
“When you talk to Alexander about this, can you give him my number?” Buck holds up his phone. “Trey will text it to you.”
Trey’s fingers tap out something on his phone before mine buzzes.
I look down at it and the New York based number my cousin just texted me.
Sucking in a deep breath, I lower myself onto one of the stools next to the island. “I’d prefer if Alexander didn’t know I was involved in any of this. Is there a way we can do that?”
“She’s humble.” Trey looks back and forth between Buck and me. “Olivia has never been one to shine a spotlight on herself.”
It’s a welcomed compliment, but it has nothing to do with my desire to stay out of this. I don’t want Alexander Donato to know that I went to any trouble for him. He strikes me as the type of man who would misinterpret a helping hand for something more.
I don’t need him to jump to any conclusions about my good intentions or me.
All I wanted was an autographed jersey to replace the one his one-night stand ran off with.
I was going to shove it in a plain envelope, address it to him in care of the Philharmonic, and mail it to their administrative office.
That was before it turned into a baseball lover’s dream gift.
Buck stares at me. “I’ll have my assistant take care of all of it. She’ll never bring your name into it.”
“Thank you.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you both for everything.”