Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“Are you going to be okay?” Evie asked the next morning as she stood next to Milo’s car.
“I’m fine. I’ve got an intermediate hike that leaves in an hour and I’ll be gone for at least four hours. I’m just going to avoid the lodge and hope my father can take a hint and leave sooner rather than later.”
She snorted. “Please. That guy would need to be hit over the head with something heavy to take a hint.”
Chuckling, he pulled her in for a hug and then kissed her soundly. “I’ll see you later, and don’t worry about me.”
Being so much shorter than him, he kind of loved when she looked up at him with a smile that was somehow both sweet and sexy. “I can’t help it. I feel a little responsible.”
Slater caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Evie, you’re not responsible for anything.” Leaning in close, he added, “But I loved the way you distracted me all night.”
Her cheeks turned pink as she bit her lip and looked around to make sure no one had heard them. It looked like she was about to say something sexy, but Milo walked over and killed the moment.
“Good morning,” he said with very little fanfare. “Evie, we need to get going. I’ve got a call with Mr. Tanaka in fifteen minutes. With the time difference, it’s fourteen hours later in Japan. He’s making a special effort to talk to me, so…”
“No worries,” she said. “I’m ready.” Giving Slater one last kiss, she climbed into the car and instantly transformed into executive assistant Evie.
He stood back and watched them drive away before contemplating his morning. What he wanted to do was go up to his office and meet with Lexi so they could talk about next week’s schedule face to face. However, he wasn’t prepared for the possibility of running into his father.
Standing in the middle of the parking lot, he glared up at the lodge and then simply said, “Fuck it,” before heading toward it.
But he went in the back entrance that took him through the kitchen and then along a few employees-only hallways. Maybe it was cowardly, but he just wasn’t in the mood. Plus, he refused to completely change his life, his schedule, and his routine because his father decided to show up uninvited.
“I own the damn place,” he murmured. “I can go wherever I want.”
Strong words for a guy practically tiptoeing down a back hallway…
He just wanted to check in with Lexi. There was nothing wrong with that. It was simply something to do besides hide out down in his shed office waiting for his hiking group to arrive. Plus, he enjoyed bouncing ideas off Lexi and getting any feedback she got from the guests.
He heard the voice before he even reached the office door, and yet when he got there and saw it with his own eyes, he still stopped dead.
The great Cal Slater stood on the other side of Lexi’s desk, one hand braced casually against the edge, and his posture relaxed like he owned the place. A snort of disgust escaped before he could stop it because his father behaved as if he owned every place he walked into.
Lexi sat rigidly in her chair, hands folded tight over the curve of her stomach, smile stretched thin and polite in a way Slater had only ever seen when she was deeply and profoundly uncomfortable. Connor would kick his ass if he let this go on for even another minute.
“Leave her alone.” The words came out low and sharp and edged with enough warning to slice through the room.
Cal turned slowly, and for a split second, something like surprise flickered across his face. Then the familiar, public grin slid into place.
“Ah, there you are,” he said, arms held out in welcome as if they were meeting for coffee. “I was just talking with Lexi here about the big event.”
Lexi shot Slater a pleading look. “I was just about to grab some tea,” she said quickly, already pushing back from her chair.
“Doctor’s orders. Hydration.” She grabbed her purse with slightly shaky hands and stood, carefully avoiding Cal as she moved around him.
“It was…nice to meet you, Cal. I’ll be back in a bit, Slater.
” And without another word, she was out the door.
Slater could practically hear her footsteps racing away.
It didn’t take long for the silence to hit them hard.
But he didn’t move farther into the room. He stayed planted just inside the doorway, arms crossed, every muscle in his body locked tight. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
Cal sighed like Slater was being mildly unreasonable instead of openly hostile. “I came to talk to you. I’ve reached out several times, but you’ve been avoiding my calls.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“With what?” Cal gestured vaguely toward the resort. “This?”
Slater’s jaw tightened. “You don’t get to walk into my place of work—a place that I own—and corner a pregnant woman because you couldn’t take the hint.”
“I wasn’t cornering her,” Cal said, affronted. “I was being friendly.”
“She looked like she wanted to crawl under the desk.”
Cal waved a dismissive hand. “People get nervous around me because I’m famous. Comes with the territory.”
There it was, that effortless assumption that the world revolved around him.
Finally, Slater took a slow step farther into the office, closing the door behind him. “You’re not here to catch up,” he said flatly. “So let’s skip the performance. What do you want?”
Cal’s smile faltered just a fraction. “Like I said, I’ve been reaching out because the league is doing something special,” he said. “They’re calling it Cal Slater Day. You know, they’re retiring my jersey and there’s going to be a big ceremony on the field.”
“I’m aware,” Slater said. “You’ve only mentioned it in every voicemail.”
“Okay, well…I figured you might want to see it.”
“See what?”
“Well…all of it. Me. It’s a big deal.” He grinned. “I’m a big deal.”
“I’ll pass,” he replied dryly.
“But I want you there.”
The words landed harder than Slater expected, but he shoved the reaction down instantly. “Please. You don’t need me there. You’ve got teammates,” he said. “Former players. Coaches. Half the league worships you. I’m sure you won’t be lonely.”
There was a pause; Cal hesitated just long enough for a wave of unease to wash over him. “What?” he demanded.
Cal exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare, almost sheepish gesture that would’ve meant more if Slater didn’t know him so well.
“The publicists,” he began slowly. “They think it’ll look better if family’s there.
You know, make it more… personal. There’s going to be a parade on the field.
You’d get your own classic car driving you around.
It’ll be pretty cool. Your grandparents are going to be there. ”
For a moment, all he could do was blink.
“You’re kidding me.”
“They just think it tells a better story,” Cal said quickly. “Shows the world that I’m a well-rounded guy. Legendary career, supportive family, legacy…”
“Legacy,” Slater repeated, a humorless laugh escaping him. “That’s what this is about? Optics?”
Cal’s brows drew together. “Don’t twist this. I do want you there. I thought maybe this could be a good way for us to reconnect and…you know, we could be closer. A fresh start and all that.”
Something inside Slater snapped.
“A fresh start?” he echoed, incredulous.
“Do you have any idea how many times you've floated that idea around over the years? It’s all bullshit, man. Like when I was ten and you missed my championship game because you were in Miami with some reporter? Or when I was twelve and the entire soccer team asked me why my dad was on the cover of a magazine with a woman who wasn’t my mother? ”
Cal stiffened. “That was a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” Slater shot back, his heart racing. “It was my entire childhood. Hell, it’s been my entire life!”
Silence rang between them for only a moment.
“I hated it,” he continued, his voice low but shaking with years of suppressed resentment. “I hated walking into school and hearing your name. I hated coaches assuming I was going to be just like you. I hated baseball because it felt like you’d already taken all the oxygen out of the damn sport.”
Cal’s expression hardened defensively. “You never told me that.”
“What difference would it have made? Besides, you were never around long enough to hear it.”
That one landed. Cal’s mouth opened, then closed again. “I was building a career,” he said finally, stubbornly. “I was providing for the family.”
“You were chasing every woman who smiled at you,” Slater snapped. “And every time Mom cried, you told her it came with the territory.”
Cal’s jaw flexed. “Your mother and I had our issues. That was between us.”
“No,” Slater said, stepping closer now, anger bleeding through the calm. “It was between all of us. You think I don’t remember the fights? The slammed doors? The nights she sat at the kitchen table pretending she wasn’t waiting for you to come home?”
Cal looked away for the first time. “I made some mistakes, okay? I know I’m not perfect,” he muttered.
“No,” Slater agreed quietly. “You’re not.”
“And your mother…”
“Is gone,” Slater said flatly. “You destroyed her life, and now you want to be celebrated. How twisted is that?”
A long pause stretched between them. There were thousands of things he wanted to say—points he wanted to make—but some of the fight just went out of him. Nothing he said was going to change the past, and his father wasn’t someone he wanted in his future.
Then Cal straightened, the familiar confidence sliding back over his features like armor. “Look, I get that you’re holding onto old grudges. But this is important. It’s my career, my legacy. I’m going to be part of major league history. I’d like my son to be there. That’s not unreasonable.”
Slater stared at him. “You still don’t get it,” he said softly.
“Get what?”
“I never wanted to be part of your legacy. I was just a kid who would have liked to have his dad around.” Another mirthless laugh. “And I’ll never want to be a prop to help you perpetuate an image you don’t deserve.”