15. Gwen
fifteen
Gwen
Present
“You’ve got this. You’re a bad bitch,” I repeat my best friend’s parting words from our daily morning video call into the bathroom mirror.
My anxiety is so high today I can’t stop sweating. Hence the pitstop at the office restroom before my meeting.
Today is the day I am going to march into my father’s office and demand that he hand over the reins of the chief marketing officer position to me while Maryse is on maternity leave.
I have spent the last eight years working my ass off and gaining experience.
I don’t know how much more I can do to prove to my dad that I can do the job. That I belong here.
Since I was a child, it has been my dream to be a part of the Evaders.
My great-grandfather, Archibald Montgomery, founded the Los Angeles Evaders baseball team in 1942, and every member of the Montgomery family has worked here.
I’ve scanned tickets at the gate, sold frozen lemonade while carrying the freezer bag on my chest, swept trash after games, and so much more.
I’ve done it all, and now it’s time for me to move up in the ranks. The front office is calling me, and this is my chance.
Turning side to side, I check myself out in the mirror one last time.
My black suit is lint free and pressed to perfection.
The collar of my baby-pink shirt is crisp and popping.
As are my matching baby-pink stilettos. I push the single tight curl falling from my high ponytail back behind my ear.
While I miss the pastel pink strands I wore in college, today’s goal is for my father to see me as the grown woman I am.
So that means no more pink hair and very professional business attire.
I inhale a deep breath and pull my shoulders back into a power pose.
Boobs out, stomach in, hands on my hips.
The reflection in the mirror is of a determined woman.
Because I am. I just need my father to see me in the same light.
I’m afraid when he looks at me, he still sees an eight-year-old girl with pigtails and a toothless smile.
But I’m a grown woman, and I know what I want.
Since the season started, I have done more than grunt work.
I created all the PR for the philanthropy projects, which were well received by the public.
I’ve helped increase our charity’s monetary donations and player participation.
I have gotten the Evaders’ social media presence into the millions, and fan engagement up. Which I also did for Cam and Nico.
The numbers don’t lie. I’m good at this job.
After a few deep breaths, I leave the safety of the bathroom and make my way down the hall toward my father’s office. The mahogany-stained door stares back at me as I stand toe to toe with it.
Just knock.
“You’ve got this, Gwen,” Sylvie whispers from her desk. Her dark eyes sparkle with motherly affection. She has been the Evaders’ front office manager since before I was born. She’s like a second grandmother to me.
Sylvie was my grandfather’s assistant until he passed away. My father, Ted Montgomery Jr., rightly promoted her, and she has served as his second-in-command ever since. There’s not a thing she misses or doesn’t know around here. Sylvie basically runs this place.
“Thanks, Sylvie. I appreciate the support.”
“Of course, my sweet girl. Now go on and knock. Show him who’s the boss.
” Sylvie shoots me a wink as she reaches for the ringing phone.
Her black and silver bob sways as she cheerfully greets the caller, taking me back in time to the summer days when I would visit the office and answer phones with her while my dad and grandfather did their “baseball” business.
Taking Sylvie’s advice, I knock on my father’s door.
“Come in,” he hollers from the other side.
I pull open the door to find my father standing behind his desk, staring out the large picture window that overlooks all of Los Angeles—from the Evaders’ field below, downtown LA, and the San Gabriel Mountains in the distance. The view from the hill where the Evaders Stadium stands is breathtaking.
The golf-ball–sized lump in my throat prevents me from taking a full breath.
I close the door to his office as my dad turns to face me and grins. “Hello, my Gwenny girl. Get over here and give your old man a hug.”
“Hey, Daddy,” I reply.
Dad holds out his arms for me, and I walk into his warm embrace. His familiar cedar and sage cologne reminds me of my childhood.
I love my father dearly. He’s a great dad. The best. He spoiled us all with his attention, came to whatever game or extracurricular activity we had, tucked us in, and read bedtime stories to us whenever he had a chance.
When we break apart, Dad guides me to the chair in front of his desk and, as he takes a seat, asks, “What brings you to my office today, kiddo?”
Ignoring the kiddo remark, I square my shoulders and sit tall. “I wanted to speak to you about Maryse’s maternity leave.”
“What about it, sweetheart?”
“When Maryse leaves, I want to take over as CMO.”
“Gwen.”
He attempts to interrupt me, but I push through. I need to say what I came to say before I chicken out.
“Please just listen. For the last five months, I have been working very closely with Maryse. I know I can do the job with my eyes closed. I’ve been shadowing her every day.
I know everything the team and the marketing department have scheduled for the rest of the season.
I’ve already had a hands-on role in planning the philanthropic events for the team.
That idea about changing our team tagline for the season was my idea … ”
Dad raises his voice and cuts me off. “Gwen, stop. You can’t take over.”
“But you always said I would be a part of the Evaders. That I would have a place here in the organization. Were you lying?”
He sighs, and for the first time in my life it seems as if he’s disappointed in something other than me. “I’ve never lied to you. But there are rules.”
“What rules?”
“Rules your grandfather put in place before he passed.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There is a stipulation that doesn’t allow a …” As if he doesn’t want to say the words aloud, he clears his throat before continuing. “The stipulation is for female heirs of the Montgomery family. Unmarried Montgomery women cannot hold executive positions in the company.”
My father might as well have stabbed me in the heart with his letter opener. Unmarried women can’t hold executive positions? That’s the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I am not kidding.” He pulls open the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out a stack of papers and places them in front of me. “This is a copy of your grandfather’s last will and testament. Everything you need to know is in here.”
“But you’re the boss; couldn’t you change the rules?” I ask. Even I can hear desperation in my voice.
He can fix this. Right?
Dad leans back in his chair, places his elbows on the arms, and steeples his fingers under his chin. “I could, but I won’t. This is what your grandfather wanted, and I intend to abide by his wishes.”
Fighting my hammering heart, I manage to speak calmly. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You knew I wanted to work here. It’s all I ever wanted.”
“I knew that’s what you wanted when you were a child. And if I’m being honest, after you left for college, I never thought you would come back.”
“Why would you think that? You’re here. Mom and Juju are here. My brothers. Where else would I want to be?”
“I don’t know. I thought you were happier in New York. You had Jenna, the job at the PR firm, and you were dating that boy, what’s his name?” He snaps his fingers in thought.
“Collin,” I mumble. I dated Collin my freshman year of college, and it lasted all of nine months before I found him making out with another girl at a party.
“Collin. That’s his name. Anyway. I just assumed you would stay there, get married, have kids, and forget all about coming back to Los Angeles and working for the team.”
“You know that sounds incredibly sexist, right? Not all women want to get married and have babies. They want careers too.” My father is determined to break my heart and forever change how I view him. Whatever he says next will change our relationship forever.
“Don’t start that with me. Of course, I know women can do whatever they want. But there is nothing wrong with traditional values.”
He didn’t outright say it, but I know he believes it. Other women can have careers, just not his daughter.
“So, then, that’s it? I can’t be the marketing exec unless I’m married.”
“That’s correct.”
Tears sting my eyes. Not from disappointment, but from anger.
Anger at my father for not having the balls to get rid of a ridiculous, incredibly sexist tradition.
One he could easily change but won’t. I’m also angry at my grandfather for being a misogynist pig and turning my father into his mirror image.
As I stand, I grab the stack of papers, my curiosity piqued at what else my dumbass grandfather wrote into his will. “Okay, then. I’ll just be headed back to my cubicle, where we female Montgomerys belong.”
“Gwenny, don’t be like that,” my father chides.
“How do you want me to be, Dad?” I snap, losing my cool.
“Not upset with me. This was all your grandfather.”
“And yet, you’re the one who hurt me. You’re the one unwilling to change things.”
Disgusted with my father, I exit his office without a backward glance as he calls my name, asking me to come back.
There is no way I can spend another second in his presence without yelling at him. Honestly, I’m not sure if I will ever see my father as anyone other than the man who crushed my dreams.