Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
WIL
Today is my last day at Woodlake. The end of an era, although hopefully I’ll be back. Soon.
It’s also the day Abbey interviews with the Boston team, according to Jeremy.
That must be what Felix’s email was about.
I’m even more convinced that deleting it was the right thing to do.
She looks beautiful if a little frazzled and nervous.
She came in this morning wearing two different earrings, which Jimmy was kind enough to point out, and I overheard her asking Crystal if she could borrow a jersey because she forgot hers. Crystal wasn’t happy about it.
After Abbey clocks out, she hovers around customer service, waiting. I’m in the Dugout going over a few last-minute things with Jeremy, who has that glazed-over look in his eyes. How this guy ever passed his merch rotation is beyond me.
“Did you get that?” I ask.
“Settle down. Century can handle this,” he says. Then he notices Abbey beyond the door to the Dugout. He frowns. I pretend to be very interested in what’s on my clipboard.
“I’m going to talk to her,” Jeremy says. “You stay here. She hates your guts right now.”
He leaves the door open. I don’t even pretend to not watch them and listen.
“You sure about this, slugger?” he says.
“Slugger? That’s a new one.”
“Abs, Boston. That’s a big move. A big, high-profile move.”
Her mouth turns down. “Maybe I’m ready for a big move. Boston can’t be any higher profile than Woodlake.” She pauses. “I have to at least try, Jeremy.”
A short Black man sporting a buzz cut, Hometown polo, khakis, and dress code-violating, blindingly white Air Jordans opens the Performance Center door. “You must be Abbey. I’m Pharaoh. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Thanks for meeting with me,” she says.
“This guy had a lot of good things to say about you,” Pharaoh says with a jab of his thumb toward Jeremy. “Said it would be a big blow to lose his best employee to a new market.”
They’d be stupid not to take her.
“When are you going to patch things up with her?” Jeremy asks when he comes back into the Dugout.
“I don’t think that’s in the cards.”
“Goddamn it, after all the hard work I’ve done to fix shit for you, you’re just going to give up?” He turns back to the computer.
Fourteen minutes later, the Performance Center door opens, and Abbey steps out. Fourteen minutes. That’s it.
“I’ll be in touch,” Pharaoh says. “Take care, Abbey. You bring a lot to the ballpark.”
“Talk to her,” Jeremy says. “You won’t see her again.”
I scoff. “I’m going to Ridgehill, not Mars.”
“Talk to her.” Then he’s up on his feet and sprinting over to Abbey. “Hey! How’d it go? Can you step into the Dugout for a minute? I’ll be right there.”
“What—I—” she stammers as he disappears into the computer department. She stops short when she sees me in the Dugout.
“How’d it go?” I slide a few reports into my messenger bag. This is it. I’m packing up. I’ve made it to AGM, and I’m this close to getting my own store and finally, for what it’s worth, showing my dad what I’m made of.
“Great,” she says. Is she—are those—tears? Is she upset about the interview or about me leaving? “Do you need something?”
Yes, I do. I take a step forward before I can even think about what I’m doing, but she holds up a palm in the universal stop gesture.
I can keep this professional. I can keep my hands off you, even though I crave the feel of your skin under my fingertips, the taste of your kiss, the sounds you make when—
I clear my throat. “I wanted to say goodbye and let you know that I’ve lo—I’ve enjoyed working with you. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, here or in Boston or wherever your path takes you.”
I cringe inwardly. That sounds straight off a cheesy greeting card, and not at all what I want to say. I want to thank her for a million things, tell her how much she means to me, but I can’t find the right words.
“Goodbye, Wil,” she says. “Best of luck in your new role.”
She turns to go, but I take hold of her hand and pull her in for a hug. She’s rigid, unforgiving, but I don’t let go, and eventually, she melts into me like I didn’t break her heart.
“Oh, darling,” I whisper. I can’t help myself.
She pulls away and leaves me in the Dugout, but not before I see the tears streaming down her cheeks. I pack up my messenger bag, wave goodbye to Donnie, and am out the door without a backward glance.