Chapter Sixteen
“Explain yourselves.”
Courtney’s tone was ice. For their parts, Summer and Razor both looked sheepish.
Seeing such forlorn expressions, Ashton flashed back to when she first met Razor.
How contrite she’d looked after their first practice, instead of the cocksure first year catcher trying to make an impression.
If she’d met this version of Razor first, Ashton might’ve been tempted to give her a chance.
If she’d met this Razor first, she wouldn’t have had to fight so hard to hide her growing admiration-turned-attraction.
And she would be feeling sympathy for her now instead of frustration over a broken promise.
The tension filled the small office to bursting. Ashton silently begged one of them to say something. Razor looked at each of them one by one, her eyes so remorseful that Ashton fought the urge to reach out and console her.
“The Jaguars made an adjustment, so we made an adjustment as well,” Razor explained.
“Where the hell do you get off making any kind of change without consulting me?” Nancy ground out.
“I’d like to hear that as well, along with why you didn’t consult me,” Courtney said.
“I tried to discuss it with you,” Summer said to Nancy. “So did Razor, but you wouldn’t listen.”
Courtney turned stunned eyes to Nancy. “Is this true?”
“I didn’t see a reason to change,” Nancy argued. “I’m the coach. We go with the plan that I deem appropriate.” Her eyes shifted to Razor, anger fading into hurt. “I trusted you. I gave you a second chance, and this is how you repay me?”
Razor pointed a finger at her chest. “You think this was my idea?”
“You claim you don’t want to coach, but you’ve been doing it ever since you arrived. You think because you’re the pitcher whisperer, you know everything.”
Razor’s eye twitched at the unwelcomed nickname.
“I’ve asked you not to call me that. I hate it.”
“Since when?”
“I’ve never liked it.”
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt your feelings,” Nancy mocked. “Does the star catcher feel she’s better at coaching than me?”
“Stop it!”
Ashton startled at Summer’s bold outburst. Suddenly all eyes were on her.
“Changing the strategy was my idea,” she confessed. “You wouldn’t listen. They kept scoring, and I just couldn’t stomach the thought of losing a game without trying something different.”
Ashton hoped her expression didn’t give away the swell of pride she felt for Summer defending her actions and her teammate.
“If anything, Razor tried to talk me out of it. She didn’t want to go against your orders.
But I wanted to at least try.” Summer looked to Razor and smiled.
“She supported me, albeit reluctantly. And she made me promise if it didn’t work, we’d immediately start following Coach Inglewood’s directions again. ”
Ashton looked around and gauged the room. Courtney fidgeted in her seat. Razor looked relieved.
“How could you do this to me?” Nancy whispered, wounded. Tears moistened her eyes, but they didn’t fall.
“Coach, I respect you. Honest. But you wouldn’t listen. You left me no choice.”
Summer’s plea was ignored as Nancy’s anger took over.
“This is how you repay me after everything I’ve done for you. Both of you are suspended…indefinitely.”
“But that’s not fair,” Summer protested, looking to Razor and Ashton for support.
“You should’ve thought about that before you betrayed me.”
A cacophony of voices took flight as Nancy, Summer, and Razor argued. Each one pleaded their case, trying to compromise, but no one was listening.
“Enough!” Courtney yelled. An eerie silence settled over the room.
“While I appreciate your desire to do what you thought was best for the team, Coach Inglewood is correct. You don’t have the right to be insubordinate when you don’t agree with a course of action.
We are the coaches.” She glanced at Nancy, almost remorseful.
“However, even coaches can be wrong. After all, we’re not the ones on the field, so we rely on our players to tell us if our strategy is working or not.
And if we choose not to listen, then the outcome of the game falls on our shoulders. ”
Ashton was unsure where Courtney was going with her speech. Summer and Razor looked equally confused as to whether they were being reprimanded or being praised.
“For your actions today, I am suspending you…for two games.”
Nancy turned, stunned, ready to fire off again, but Courtney raised a hand and effectively silenced any further argument.
“I believe that’s fair,” Razor said.
Summer nodded. “Yes, very fair. And we are both very sorry and promise we won’t do it again.”
They stood to leave. Ashton sighed, thankful the incident hadn’t become worse. She moved to claim Razor’s vacant seat as she passed and caught the silent apology in Razor’s eyes. She gave a tight smile and a pat on Razor’s shoulder as silent acceptance.
“There’s one more thing,” Courtney said, delaying their departure. “I want you both in film study with the coaching staff on Monday to scout our next opponent.”
Ashton looked at Nancy, who just shrugged. Summer and Razor traded confused expressions.
“Absolutely, but may I ask why?” Razor asked.
Courtney sighed and looked to Nancy again, mouthing the words I’m sorry.
“I want to try an experiment. See how well you do when your…independence is sanctioned.”
Summer’s lips twitched into a smile. “What are you saying, Coach?”
“I’m saying, when you come off your suspension, I want you to call your pitches.”
“That’s awesome,” Summer exclaimed and jumped into Razor’s arms.
“Don’t get too excited,” Courtney interjected.
“You’re about to find out just how much work goes into prepping for a game.
So, this is your one shot. If you don’t pass muster, then Coach Inglewood will continue with pitch calling.
I don’t care if she makes you throw changeups all game.
You’ll listen to her without argument. Understand? ”
“We totally understand. Thank you so much,” Summer exclaimed.
“Yeah…thanks,” Razor added, less exuberant.
“Good. Now get out of here. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Summer bounced out the door while a more subdued Razor followed. As soon as the door clicked shut, Nancy rounded on Courtney and unleashed her anger.
“What the hell was that?”
Ashton moved to comfort her, but Nancy shook her off.
“I did what I thought was best for the team,” Courtney replied calmly.
“By rewarding them for insubordination?”
“I suspended them for two games.”
“Then what was that crap about having them call their own game?”
Courtney shrugged. “I can’t ignore the fact that their actions garnered positive results.”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “We lost the game. How is that positive?”
“We lost the game because we didn’t score enough runs. Their actions kept the deficit from growing.”
“They got lucky is all.”
“Really?” Courtney turned to Ashton. “Coach Sharpe, what is your opinion on the matter?”
Ashton looked between them. She saw the plea in Nancy’s eyes to side with her. But she couldn’t, in good conscience, ignore the results.
“There was a definite shift around the fourth inning where the Jaguars’ offense became stagnant. If that’s when they made the switch…then the experiment does warrant a chance.”
“I don’t believe this,” Nancy grumbled.
“What I don’t understand is why you disregarded Summer’s concerns when she brought them to you. Or Razor’s,” Courtney said.
“They came to me between the second and third innings. The game hadn’t had time to settle in yet.”
“How much more time was necessary? When they were up by eleven? When the game ended in the fifth with a run-rule enforcement?”
Nancy didn’t respond. All she did was fold her arms and glare at the door. Courtney stood and leaned against her desk.
“When you came on my staff, I was grateful to have you and your expertise. I told you that I wanted this team to be a true team. Not just coaches and players. I wanted a cohesive group where we collaborated as one unit, strategized together. You told me you wanted that as well. What happened?”
“Razor Mitchell,” Nancy growled. “That’s what happened.”
Ashton gaped as Nancy banged the door off the wall and stormed out of the office. She looked back at Courtney, then rushed out the door after Nancy and caught up with her as she entered her office, nearly getting a door in the face for her efforts.
“This is bullshit.” Nancy kicked her filing cabinet for good measure.
“You’re overreacting.”
“I’m overreacting? Razor waltzes in, and suddenly I’m inconsequential.”
“No, you’re not. You’re still the assistant coach. You don’t know how this will play out. They could do terribly, and you’ll be back calling pitches.”
“You’re more naive than I thought,” Nancy scoffed.
“Excuse me?”
“This was obviously Razor’s plan all along. I never bought that whole I don’t want to coach bit. She was just biding her time when it would humiliate me the most.”
“You heard Summer. The whole thing was her idea.”
“That’s what she wants us to believe.”
Nancy paced back and forth, her eyes wild, scaring Ashton.
“Why would Summer lie?”
“Because Razor told her to.”
“But Summer is loyal to you.”
“Was loyal to me,” Nancy corrected. “Ever since Memphis, she’s changed, and I knew it was because of Razor. It’s obvious she’s grooming Summer to do her bidding. And she won’t stop until she has the entire team on her side.”
Ashton’s brain was muddled. “You are all over the map right now, Nancy. I can’t follow your thinking. One day Razor wants to steal your job. The next she manipulates players to do her bidding all to embarrass you. Which is it?”
Nancy swallowed, and for the first time since leaving Courtney’s office, she looked deflated.
“I don’t know. Maybe both. Maybe she’s getting back at me for San Diego.
Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should’ve been more active in protecting her.
I was a coward. I can admit that. I was more worried about my job than Razor, and now she’s getting her revenge. ”
Ashton sat in the chair in front of Nancy’s desk, stunned to hear such an admission of guilt.