Chapter 10
Grizzly
I read the texts three times before I could put my phone down. Ten seconds later, I picked it back up and read them again, because apparently two in the morning was the right time for me to be doing detective work on a total of three sentences.
I meant what I said. No pressure. I'm around when you're ready.
The thing about Paxton was that he said exactly what he meant.
I’d understood that much from our video call, and it had been further confirmed in person.
There was no reading between the lines because he was so transparent.
He wasn't the type to bury a message in subtext or wrap his intentions in layers that required a degree to decipher.
That should have made it easier. Instead, it made me feel like I was standing at the edge of a diving board too high up when I’m the type of person to always need a life jacket.
I typed back Thank you for the message. I'm sorry about last night before I could overthink it, and then I set my phone face down on the nightstand and stared at the ceiling for a while.
I didn't sleep particularly well after that, but at least I tried.
Cheyenne had orange juice waiting on her desk when I came in the next morning, same as always. She was good about keeping things steady without making a production of it.
I grabbed the bottle and cracked it open before I even said good morning. She had long since stopped being offended by my lack of manners.
Some people needed coffee to function. I needed cold juice and friendly faces.
"You look like you've been up thinking all night," she said.
"Good morning to you too."
She smiled at her computer screen. "Moseley called out today. His grandmother's in from out of town, and she doesn't do well with being left alone. He said he'd make up the hours later this week."
"Tell him not to worry about it. Family comes first."
I settled into the chair beside her desk rather than going straight to my office. I only ever did so when I wanted to talk and wasn't sure how to start. She'd learned to wait me out.
I turned the juice bottle in my hands a few times. "What do you think of Paxton Wells?"
She didn't react the way most people would when asked about a client. There was no careful professional hedge, no well he seems nice enough. She turned in her chair to face me directly and said, "I think he's exactly what you've been needing for a very long time, in more ways than one."
"That's a lot to put on someone you've only met briefly."
"I've got good instincts, and you know it.
" She folded her hands in her lap. "He came in here and his first concern wasn't his career.
It was you. He wanted to know if you were okay, if anyone had checked on you.
He offered to bring soup. He didn't know you at all and his first thought was to take care of you.
You tell me what that says about a person. "
I didn't have an immediate answer. The truth was it said plenty. That was part of the problem.
"He's young," I objected, curious to see if she agreed with me.
"He's twenty-two, not fourteen. And before you say it, yes, the age gap is real, but it doesn't make him wrong for you." She tilted her head. "I think you're looking for reasons to talk yourself out of a scary new thing. If you really thought it through, then you’d see it too."
"You've been waiting to say that, haven't you?"
"Since about the day you got off that video call and put your head on your desk." She was entirely unapologetic about it. "I didn't push because I thought you needed time. But we're past time now. The man is here, in the flesh."
I took a long drink as I contemplated her points.
Working with someone who knew you well meant that they tended to be right a lot of the time.
Cheyenne had seen me through the buildup of this business—from when it was nothing to what it had become.
She had watched me navigate things, and she had never once pushed past what I was willing to share.
That she was pushing now showed the importance of the situation.
"He texted me," I said. "And last night before I went to sleep, I texted him back. He was just checking in."
Her expression shifted, turning warm and happy. "And?"
"And he was kind about it. Which is apparently his factory setting. Kindness." I murmured the last word, still astounded at how well he’d taken my panic.
"Good. That's what you need." She turned back to her computer. "Go do your work. Open that email from Royce. It's been sitting in your inbox long enough."
I stood from the chair. "You're not my mother."
"Somebody has to act like it."
I pointed at her on my way past, which accomplished nothing since she was already looking at her screen again.
Cheyenne was right though. I did need to see what Royce had said about a position for Paxton on the Bellport Blue Jays I’d spiraled shortly after reaching out, which meant it was well past time for me to get my crap together.
My office was quiet when I settled in. I had actual work to get through. There were follow-up emails that needed responses, like the one from Royce, and a call scheduled for the afternoon with one of my hockey guys who had been having a rough stretch.
I had notes to review before that conversation in particular. He needed to know he had options. That this wasn’t the end of the world if he couldn’t play anymore.
The email I needed to address most sat at the top of my inbox. Royce's name in the sender line, the subject reading Re: You’re shitting me.
I chuckled at the sarcastic response since it was definitely not what I’d labeled the first message with. They were always such a smartass. It held true as I read over the email.
Grizzly,
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right? There’s no way you’re asking me if I’m interested in drafting the top player in the college baseball world. That can’t be happening.
Because I’m about to lose my damn mind if so.
Paxton Wells is going to be the next big name in the league. Guy has abilities we haven’t seen in decades (according to Kenneth). Of course we want him.
Are you his rep now? I heard about the explosion with his last agent. I’ve blacklisted him from connecting to any Bellport teams. Bell was more than happy to not have any contact. And Jake just cackled at the joy I was taking in ruining the asshole.
So yeah, I’d like it very much if you could make this happen. Or rather, I’ll make it happen since I get the picks and all.
Tell your guy he’s got a spot here if he wants it.
Don’t say I’ve never been nice.
-R
I sent a quick reply to thank them for being on board with a note that I’d let them know once I had Paxton signed under my agency. It felt weird to confirm that before double-checking with the man of the hour, but I didn’t think waiting would change anything.
Paxton wanted to play in Bellport. He also wanted to be my Daddy. The two were very different, yet I had a feeling he’d excel at both.
There was a knock at my door a half hour later. I looked up to see Moseley, which was strange given he was supposed to be out.
He stood there, glasses slightly askew, looking like he had sprinted to me. "I know I called out. I just wanted to check something and then I'll head back. Grandma is at my place. She'll be fine for an hour." He stepped inside when I didn't object, closing the door behind him. "What happened?"
"I got confirmation from Royce that they’re willing to draft Paxton," I said.
He crossed the room and sat in the chair across from me. "That’s great. But it’s not what I’m asking about. What had you out of the office for so long? Were you truly sick? Should we be worried?”
“Oh.” It took my brain a moment to catch up with what he was saying. “You don’t care about this huge deal?”
“I do care about that. I care about you more.”
Any other quip I had died on my tongue. The hero worship I’d seen from him paled in comparison to how these words made me feel.
“Thank you for caring, Moseley. You’re a good friend.”
He snapped his fingers. “Exactly. Which is why you need to tell me what’s going on.”
The door opened at his words. “Me too. I will not be left out of the updates,” Cheyenne demanded.
“Did you have your ear against the door?” I smirked as the visual came to mind.
She rolled her eyes. “Enough about me. Tell us about you. We want to know. We want to help.”
I gave them the summary. Not the medical language, just the straight version. Gradual decline in vision. Would become legally blind. Needed to prepare.
They listened without interrupting even once. When I finished, it was quiet for a moment. Moseley had his elbows on his knees, looking at the middle of my desk. Cheyenne was biting her lip as her knee bounced.
“While it’s not the best news,” I started. “It’s the reality of my future. I need to know now if you’re on board for this or if we should part ways. I’d hate to lose you both. You’re like family. But I understand not—”
“Shut up.”
I froze at Cheyenne’s cold tone. Moseley was still too, though his eyes were wide enough to show his shock.
“There is not a chance in hell I’m leaving you.
How shitty does a person have to be to leave when someone is struggling?
” She held up her hand. “Don’t answer that.
I’ll just be more pissed. Anyway, my point is that we are here.
We are with you. Whatever change comes, you’ve already got two people at your side ready to figure it out. ”
Moseley bobbed his head quickly. “Everything she said. Absolutely.”
"I'm serious, Grizzly. I know you think you have to handle everything alone because that's what you're used to doing.
But I'm telling you right now that whatever you need, we’re here for it.
If that means learning different software or reading things out loud or reorganizing how we do things or whatever else comes up, then that's what we do.
This agency is doing good work. We're not going to let anything take that from you." Cheyenne’s voice never wavered through her speech. It was illuminating to see her be such a shark to me when she’d always played soft with clients.
The earnestness was almost too much to sit with. They were both so young and looking at me like this was the most obvious thing in the world. Like of course they would do all of that. There was no alternative in their minds.
"This is why I'm keeping you on full-time when your internship ends. You two get me better than anyone else has," I said to Moseley, because if I said anything else, I was going to embarrass myself.
He grinned, making him look all of sixteen. "I know. Cheyenne told me."
“Sure did. He deserved to not panic about this,” she said proudly.
The three of us were quiet together for a minute.
"We've got you," she said simply. "Whatever it looks like going forward. You don't have to figure it all out today."
"I know," I said. Sitting with them, I felt like I wouldn’t have to go through this completely alone.
I stopped and picked up takeout on the way home.
Comfort food that was cooked by someone else, because I had used up everything I had for thinking today.
I ate at the kitchen table without turning any lights on except the one over the stove.
It left everything a little dim and close, which felt right.
Then I did what I always did when the world had been too much.
My playroom was exactly as I had left it.
I changed into my pajamas, the ones with the little moons on them that I'd had for years and couldn't bring myself to replace no matter how worn they got.
Then I gathered Benny, the stuffed bear that had seen me through many a rough day, and I settled into the pile of blankets in the corner.
I didn't try to think about anything in particular. I let the room do what it was designed to do.
Next thing I knew, my phone was in my hand, the thread with Paxton open showing the short messages we’d exchanged. Nothing too personal. Nothing too deep. Anyone reading them wouldn’t have a clue of the tension between us.
Paxton was here. In Bellport. Had been here while I was at work today, probably charming every person he came across without even trying as he wandered through the city. Because that was apparently just what he did.
I turned my phone over and back a few times. Benny got pulled a little tighter to my chest.
Business first, I told myself. That was still the thing that made the most sense.
There was a real professional relationship to build before anything else.
Building it correctly would give both of us a solid ground to stand on regardless of what happened after.
If I led with business, I wasn't leading with my feelings. A safer bet for everyone.
But then again, Paxton had already put his feelings on the table in a room full of people without even blinking. The least I could do was acknowledge them properly.
I typed slowly, reading each word back before I moved to the next.
Can we talk? First about business. Then maybe the other.
I stared at those last three words for a long time. Then maybe the other. It wasn't much. It wasn't a promise or a declaration or anything close to what he’d said to me at the party.
But it was the truest thing I could manage tonight. It was more than I had given to anyone else in a very long time.
I hit send before I could take it back.
Then I put the phone face down on the blanket beside me, tucked my nose against the top of Benny's head, and waited to see what came back.