Chapter Nine #2

though I’ve never brought a girl around, I’ve heard the stories. I told you I

would always set you up for success. So, if there’s anything I know, I want you

to know it, too.” After a very nice kiss, he says, “I don’t think you have

anything to worry about. Everyone’s going to like you, and I hear these

luncheons are a lot of fun. So, go and enjoy yourself. I’ll see you tonight for

dinner.”

I replay those words in my head as I make my way down in the

elevator.

You should be friends with everyone, but close with no

one.

Maybe that’s just him being overly cautious. This is just a

first meeting. No one’s going to do or say anything I need to be worried about.

You should be friends with everyone, but close with no

one.

But what if they do or say something? What should I

say? What should I do?

I don’t have the answers. When the elevator doors open in

the lobby, I put on my most confident smile and make my way to the luncheon.

It’s all very nice and elegant, and held in a smaller

ballroom than we were in last night. We have assigned seating, so it kind of

forces you to get to know those at your table. The centerpiece lists ten

questions we can ask each other, and I realize fairly quickly that I’m sitting

with women who’ve been here before. I’m the new girl, so they’re all primarily

looking at me.

I suddenly have a flashback to the panel interviews I used

to have during my pageant days. My palms are a little sweaty, and my smile

feels forced. Before I can even begin to relax, the questions start.

“When did you and Christian start dating?”

“Christian has never brought a woman to any of the team

events before.”

“Were you a baseball fan before the two of you met?”

“So, did you meet him through someone on the team, or was it

like a random thing?”

“Has Christian warned you about how crazy the fangirls get?”

“You’ll learn. It’s a very different world dating a

ballplayer.”

I’m only halfway through my glass of orange juice, and my

head is already spinning. The questions come at me in rapid-fire succession.

They’re all smiling, but I can already tell that they’re sizing me up and

trying to decide whether or not I’ll fit in.

“And you’re an…actress? It’s going to be really

tough for you to see each other if you’re working.”

I don’t miss the hint of disdain in that question.

My smile never falls, but I’m completely relieved when I’m

done answering their questions and can finally sit back and listen to who they

are. By the time lunch is served, I’m mentally exhausted and just want to go

back to my room and cry. Christian is at practice, so I need to have my mini

meltdown before I see him. There’s no way I’m going to burden him with this.

Maybe I’m being overly sensitive, but I get the feeling that I won’t make any

lifelong friends here.

Even with a ring on my finger.

I know he warned me it could be like this, but I really

thought he was overreacting.

Now that I’ve experienced it firsthand? I don’t know if I’m

good enough of an actress to pretend I’m okay with it.

It’s a completely different world, and I’m utterly out of my

element.

I think I’m totally pulling off the I-had-a-great-day

vibe when Christian and I meet up for dinner, but he takes one look at me and

immediately knows something’s wrong. We don’t even make it to the elevator

before he turns us around and heads back to my room.

“What happened?” he asks gently.

“What do you mean? Everything’s fine,” I lie, but he sees

right through me.

“Ella Rose?” And then he sits down on the corner of the bed

like he’s got all the time in the world to wait.

Ugh…

“Fine. I got the feeling that…” I groan, totally aware of

how this sounds like I’m whining, but I do it anyway. “It felt like I was under

the microscope, and no one really liked what they saw.”

He doesn’t say anything, so I go on.

“I’m used to people asking me all kinds of questions about

myself, and I don’t have a problem with it. But this time, it was like…”

Another groan. “I don’t know, Christian. Maybe I’m wrong, but…” I sigh and sit

beside him, waiting for his response.

His expression is fierce. “Were they mean to you?”

“What? No. No, everyone was very nice. Everything they said,

they said with a smile. I can’t really put my finger on it. It was the way

they asked the questions. I felt like I was on the witness stand and they were

the jury. I could feel their judgment.”

He nods.

Pulling me into his embrace, he holds me. “I’m sorry, Ella

Rose. I was hoping it wouldn’t be that bad.”

“Me, too.” We stay like that for a while, in our little

cocoon, away from the outside world. This is where I want to stay. I’m done

socializing for the day. All I want to do is order some room service, curl up,

and watch TV—just the two of us. That’s our thing, our safe space.

Unfortunately, I know that’s not going to happen. He made

dinner reservations at a fabulous restaurant, and up until a little while ago,

I was really looking forward to it.

Maybe it won’t be so bad to get out.

That’s what I tell myself as I look up and meet his gaze,

kissing him softly on the lips.

“Do you feel better now?” he asks.

I nod, even though I’m not really sure.

Christian stands and gently pulls me to my feet. “Come on.

Let’s go and have a nice dinner. It’ll be fun.”

It isn’t until we’re in the lobby that he mentions we’re not

going alone.

“Sorry, I was going to say something sooner, but I could

tell you were upset. Now, I hope I’m not making things worse.”

I want to be annoyed, but this is part of his job, and I

know I have to get used to us socializing with his teammates and their wives.

Smiling, I ask, “Who’s joining us?”

“Matt Taylor and his wife, Jessica. I can personally vouch

for Jess. She’s very nice, super genuine.” Then he pauses, frowning. “I hope

she wasn’t one of the girls at your table today.”

Relief washes over me like a wave. “I don’t remember meeting

a Jess, so I think we’re good.”

And we are.

Dinner is a lot of fun, and I can already tell that Jess is

a good person. She doesn’t have that tone, her questions about my life seem

sincere, and over the course of the evening, she gives me a few tips on how to

survive a baseball season.

“Never take it personally when Christian’s a little

distant,” she says. “Players just completely immerse themselves in training,

playing, wins, losses…just all things baseball. It’s hard for them to think

about anything else. I’m sure it’s a lot like when you’re preparing for a role

in a movie, right? You need to get into the character’s head, and any

distractions can really mess with you.”

She’s not wrong.

“A lot of WAGs see everyone as competition.”

“Um…WAGs?”

She nods. “Wives and girlfriends. Even though it’s a team

sport, everyone is only concerned with how their man plays, and they take it

very personally. Do not talk or comment about how another player is doing

because you never know if their wife, girlfriend, or family member is sitting

right next to you. Obviously, one person cannot carry the weight of the entire

team. Each one is only a small part of the whole, you know? But you’ll figure

out pretty quickly which ones think they’re higher on the chain.” She laughs

softly. “And there will be times you’ll have to bite your tongue, but don’t let

anything they say get you down.”

I nod, but that wasn’t exactly the vibe I got today. She

must sense it because what she says next hits home.

“Then there are the ones who’ve been around the longest and

make everything feel like we’re back in high school. The more seniority your

man has, the more popular you are as a WAG. There are cliques. I’m sure you

must have noticed that already. Unfortunately, they’re everywhere. Every team

has them. You can either accept it or not, but it isn’t going to change.” She

laughs softly. “I was really looking forward to making adult friends as an

adult, but some people never got the memo that we’re not in high school

anymore.”

“Today was a little eye-opening. I felt like I was being

interrogated.” I try to say it lightly, but my nervous laugh gives me away.

“It’s like that when you’re the new girl. Everyone wants to

know all the details and gossip. Many players have women chasing them and have

a new girl with them at every game. It’s kind of funny. But I think everyone’s

interest in you today was more because you’re the first girl Christian has ever

brought to an event. Now that they’ve met you, know who you are and a little

about your relationship, they should be fine.”

I sigh with relief. “Okay. Good. Thanks.”

“And don’t take it personally if they don’t all cozy up to

you. Until you’ve got a ring on your finger, they don’t know if you’re going to

stay, so they don’t truly engage.”

“Christian basically said the same thing, but I figured he

couldn’t really know since he’s not hanging out with the…well…the WAGs.”

She smiles, and it truly puts my mind at ease. “The players

talk, too. If anything, they’re just as gossipy as the girls. But if there’s

anything you need to know, you can always ask me. Here, let me give you my

number.”

We exchange information, and the conversation turns to the

training schedule, how often Jess visits, and how often I’ll be here. Luckily,

there are some dates when we’ll be here at the same time, and I already know

I’ll be a bit more relaxed on those weekends.

But moving forward, I stick to Christian’s advice and don’t

sway from it. I was friendly with everyone, but I wasn’t close with anyone.

Except Jess.

It felt good to have at least one friend in my corner.

As spring goes on, I start rehearsals for Workin’ for Laughs in Atlanta. When I

accepted the role, I knew it wouldn’t be filmed in Hollywood, but I still kept

my apartment in LA. Filming a season would only take two to three months, and I

had recurring roles on other shows that filmed in Hollywood, so it just made

sense. But during it all, Christian and I tried to see each other every two

weeks. Especially while I was filming. It was a lot of traveling for me, and

the lifestyle wasn’t ideal, but we knew it was temporary.

At least, that’s what I thought.

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