Chapter Two #2
Ashton’s cheeks heated, and her arms tingled with little sparks racing up and down.
She felt her heart pick up its pace, all of which was brought on by the simple proximity of Razor walking beside her.
“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” she replied.
And Razor definitely looked good. Gone was the cherub-faced eighteen-year-old.
In her place was a sinewy woman with muscle tone hidden under cargo shorts riding low on her hips and a T-shirt that was obviously one size too big.
“I must say,” Ashton continued, desperate for a distraction, “you’ve done very well. This place is amazing.”
“Did you ever think that cocky-ass kid would be this successful?” Razor teased.
“No,” she replied. “I mean…I always thought you’d be successful—I’m just surprised it happened so fast. Look at this place.
You’ve got state-of-the-art equipment, real turf, everything looks brand new.
” She turned and noted all the cages were full.
“And you’re busting at the seams with customers.
Makes me almost want to learn how to play offense. ”
Razor’s cheeks turned pink, and a shy smile graced her lips. “It’s never too late to learn. I hold hitting clinics on the weekends.”
Ashton snorted. “Yeah right. I’m sure a woman in her late twenties wouldn’t look at all weird with a bunch of T-ballers.”
“We could always do a private lesson.”
Ashton almost laughed out loud, but when she saw Razor’s serious expression, she held it back. “Do you normally offer private lessons?”
Razor smiled. “Only for special people.”
Those butterflies took flight again in Ashton’s stomach, and she took a deep breath before saying, “Can I think about it?”
“Absolutely,” Razor replied. “Consider it an open invitation.”
Ashton tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as Razor opened the door, and Courtney and Nancy walked ahead. As Ashton was about to walk through, Razor leaned in close and whispered, “Can you give me a heads-up on what this is about?”
Ashton opened her mouth, remembering the real reason why they were there, then closed it and shook her head.
“It’s best if you hear it from Courtney,” she said, then continued ahead.
Once they were in private quarters, Razor immediately left to fetch an extra chair from the supply closet.
Ashton noticed how bare and sterile the room was.
Strange, since she knew Razor had accumulated numerous awards at San Diego State.
But none of the hardware was here, just a couple photos.
One was of an older woman she assumed was Razor’s mom.
And the other was a duplicate of the one in Ashton’s house, taken right after the team had won their first ever Women’s College World Series championship and the one time she’d allowed herself to get close to Razor physically, and embrace her fully.
The door bumped Ashton from behind as Razor returned and maneuvered a third chair into the tiny space, then took her own chair behind her desk.
“Now, what’s going on?”
Courtney sighed. “How much have you kept up with WU’s softball team?”
Razor pulled out a piece of paper and leaned her elbows on her desk.
“Let’s see. You got ravaged by the transfer portal after your hiring was announced.
Most of your starters stayed. You had a first year pitcher keep her commitment to Western University even though you weren’t the one who recruited her. ”
“Summer Storm,” Courtney confirmed.
“What else can you tell us about her?” Nancy said.
Razor cleared her throat and continued, looking at the sheet of paper the entire time.
“She’s a spitfire from what I’ve read. Right-handed pitcher with a nasty drop ball and changeup, but she’s introduced a curve ball to her repertoire in the fall.
I’m assuming she has you to thank for that.
” Razor winked at Ashton, and she sat up straighter.
“You remember my curveball?”
“I remember great pitches.” Razor smiled, and Ashton felt the heat on her neck.
“In the fall,” Razor continued, “she had a 2.45 ERA and recorded four wins and two losses. Pretty good for a first year.”
Nancy guffawed and drew everyone’s attention. “Damn, girl. You’ve done your homework. It’s like you knew we were coming.”
Razor’s smile dimmed. “It’s good for business to know the teams and players in the area. Summer is a local kid with lots of talent, so I know a lot about her. But you’re not here to get my assessment of her. So I ask again. What’s happened?”
She threw the paper on her desk and leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed.
“Our junior catcher was expelled for drug possession today,” Courtney said.
Razor winced. “That sucks. But you have another catcher, right?”
“That transfer portal ravaging you mentioned? All our backup catchers left,” Ashton chimed in.
“And teaching one of our utility players the position is going to happen, but it’s not going to happen in time for the season to start. So that’s not what we need to solve our problem,” Courtney added.
“And what is it that you need?” Razor asked. No one said a word. Razor stared intently, then her features changed, her eyes wide. “You gotta be kidding me.”
Courtney smiled. “You still have one year of eligibility left.”
Razor shook her head. “No. No, I can’t do that.”
“Come on, Razor,” Nancy goaded. “We need you. We need the pitcher whisperer.”
“I hate that name,” Razor murmured as her hands pushed through her hair. “It’s so silly.”
“Yes, the name is silly, but it’s also accurate,” Courtney said.
“Nancy is right. While Summer is an amazing talent, when she’s frustrated, she starts pressing and makes mistakes.
And let’s face it, you’re great at calming pitchers, refocusing their energy.
Lord knows you did it for me hundreds of times. ”
Ashton smiled weakly and realized she’d missed out on a golden opportunity to experience Razor’s ability.
If only she hadn’t been so focused on herself, they could’ve been an unstoppable force on the field.
Sure, Razor was younger, but not by a lot.
There were only four years separating them.
Today, it wouldn’t be a big deal if they dated.
Why had it been such a big deal to Ashton back then?
“Look, I’m honored you thought of me.” Razor’s voice brought Ashton back. “But I honestly don’t think it would work out. You can’t guarantee Summer and I will gel on the field, much less be friendly. Plus, I’m running a business, taking a class—”
“Great! You’re already a student,” Nancy broke in.
Razor ground her teeth and continued, “It’s too much to gamble on a maybe. I’m thinking about you, as well as myself.”
Courtney looked at Ashton and Nancy and sighed, defeated. “I understand, and I respect your decision.”
She crossed the room, and Razor stood to shake her hand. “Thank you, though, for thinking of me. I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship.”
Courtney scoffed and waved her off. “You kidding? I’m expecting free cage time for my boys until the end of time.”
Razor laughed, but there was no mirth. She moved toward the door, but Courtney held up her hand. “We’ll show ourselves out.”
Ashton stood, stunned. That was it? Really?
She looked back one last time, puzzled by what she saw.
Instead of turning back to her desk, which Ashton expected from someone who had no qualms about turning down such an offer, Razor watched them, sadness in her eyes, until the door clicked shut, separating them.
Why would Razor look so forlorn? She sounded so resolute that she couldn’t do it. So why the look of longing?
The walk back to the car was a haze. Ashton heard snippets of conversation, mostly from Nancy.
“You didn’t tell me you asked Razor to be on the coaching staff,” Nancy said.
Courtney shrugged. “She said no. I didn’t feel it was relevant to mention.”
“Did you ask her before me?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters to me,” Nancy said, anger in her voice.
Suddenly, there were raised voices, but Ashton tuned them out.
Her brain was still in Razor’s office, trying to understand why Razor didn’t jump at the chance to be on the field again.
Then it hit her. The sad smile. The clouded brown eyes.
The excuse of being busy with Slugfest and school.
Razor gave every reason why she couldn’t do it.
But she didn’t give the reason why she wouldn’t do it. Because there wasn’t one.
Ashton stopped suddenly, kicking up gravel.
“Ashton, you okay?” Courtney asked.