Chapter 6
“Burgers are on the grill,” Preston says, coming back inside.
After the game this afternoon, Preston and Ivory invited everyone over for the official announcements of the All-Star Team roster for next week’s game in Atlanta.
Preston and Miller already made the team, but it was another excuse for a family cookout.
Days we’re all together are my favorite.
“Thanks, babe.” Ivory loops her arms around Preston’s waist, tilting her head up for a kiss.
“Who made them?” Miller asks skeptically.
“I did,” Ivory beams. She loves cooking now.
She barely knew her way around a kitchen when she first met Preston, but he taught her a few things during their time together in Belize, and even more since they moved in together.
Any chance she gets to try a new recipe or show off her skills, she takes, which is why our family cookouts are normally at their house.
“You didn’t have sex on the counter when you made them this time, right?” Taylor questions, and I spit out my drink.
“We didn’t have sex the first time,” Ivory responds, sticking her tongue out.
“We could have,” Preston mutters under his breath.
“Who knew mashing ground beef together could be so sexy,” Miller chimes in. “Tell me, was it the texture, the temperature, or the boner in your ass that got you going?” Taylor high-fives Miller as they laugh at his joke.
“Definitely the boner,” Ivory and I say at the same time.
Preston and Ivory were locked in a house together for almost a month, combatting their attraction to each other.
One of the first nights he taught her to cook, things got steamy.
I’m surprised neither of them gave in then and instead waited another few weeks before getting together.
“So, are you girls coming to Atlanta?” Preston asks, changing the subject.
“We’ll be there,” Taylor answers him, then pointedly looks at me. “Right, Gabby?”
“Yes, I said I would go this time.” I roll my eyes.
“It’s not our fault you’ve become a workaholic.” Ivory calls me out from across the island where she’s preparing the toppings.
“I’m not a workaholic!” I protest, though I am a workaholic.
“Yes, you are,” they all say in unison.
“Fuck you guys.” I pick up my drink and down in it one gulp. The vodka hits my bloodstream, making me feel light and floaty.
Miller wraps me in a hug from behind. “Ah, it’s okay Gabby-pants. We love you anyway.”
“Don’t you need to go make sure the burgers aren’t burning or something?” I wiggle out of his embrace.
“Come on, man.” Preston opens the door. Miller follows him out as Taylor hands me a fresh drink.
“How are things going?” she asks. Ivory looks up from where she’s chopping a tomato to let me know she wants to know as well.
“Why are you here again? You were just in town.” I deflect, posing the question to Taylor.
“Nope. Not about me right now. It’s your turn. You’ve been avoiding letting us in.” She lowers her voice when Ivory turns around and asks, “Does this have anything to do with that hot new rookie?”
Shit. I need to come clean about my troubles at work.
Ivory still doesn’t know about Chase, and I definitely don’t want to talk about my feelings about him stumbling back into my life a few weeks ago.
So far, he’s respected my request to keep it professional.
It helps that I’ve done everything I can to avoid any interactions with him.
Sighing, I lean back on the barstool and prop my knee against the island. I wish we were having this conversation on the patio. It’s much more comfortable, and Ivory’s backyard is an oasis.
“I’m just so tired of playing the game, ya know?” I lament to my two best friends, knowing they truly get it.
“I do know,” Taylor agrees. She joined a well-known publicity firm right after graduation and has been busting her ass ever since.
Today, she’s her own boss and one of the top agents and publicists in sports.
I’m still in awe of her every day. “There are many games we play, though, so I need you to be more specific.”
There are several games women play by nature—the fitting in game, the self-doubt game, the imposter syndrome game, the dating game—but the career game is the one plaguing me most these days.
“The only female in a male-dominated industry game. It’s exhausting. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have a place in this league and thankful that the front office took a chance on me when the Troubadours were starting…” I trail off, not sure how to articulate my thoughts.
"But the other guys in the office are dicks,” Ivory supplies, causing me to chuckle.
“They are!”
“Who is the dick today?” Taylor asks, taking a sip of her margarita.
“Ricardo,” I huff. He’s not in the office much because he’s one of the team’s scouts, which requires him to be on the road ninety percent of the time. Thank god. “He refuses to call me Gabrielle. It’s either Gabriel, Gabe, or ‘that lawyer girl.’ It’s infuriating.”
Ivory rolls her eyes. “I can’t stand him. He’s such a douche.”
“From what I can tell, no one in the office really cares for him,” Taylor adds. She occasionally stops by the office when she’s in town and consults with our communications team. I haven’t figured out the dynamic yet, but she just says she has time and likes to mentor them.
“How does he still have a job then?” Ivory asks, looking between us.
“He’s really good at what he does, unfortunately. The Troubadours need top talent to keep competing, and he has brought that talent.”
“Still. His behavior is inexcusable. Have you said anything?” Ivory protests.
She stood up to her toxic bosses at the studio when she terminated her contract with them and started Serentia Productions.
It took her a long time to break the mold, but she’s a fierce advocate for women taking back their power now.
It’s admirable. Something I wish I could do myself.
This isn’t a situation where I can be like Ivory, though, so I shake my head sadly and take another sip of my drink.
“That would only make it worse. I’m not going to be a tattletale and prove him right.
” Besides, Mark, my boss and the general counsel of the team, is almost as bad as he is when he bothers to show up.
When he doesn’t, all his work gets pushed onto my schedule, which I honestly prefer if the alternative is dealing with his misogynistic attitude.
“How would you prove him right?” Taylor muses.
“He thinks women don’t belong because they’re too sensitive to be in a man’s sport. Reporting him will just cause more issues that I’m too exhausted to deal with.”
Ivory watches me with understanding eyes before answering, “I get that. I put up with a lot of shit both on set and off. It wasn't until Preston that I realized how much I had let that frame my way of thinking and started standing up for myself. It changed everything. You should try it.”
I envy her and Preston’s relationship. He’s the most supportive and empowering partner. I would be so lucky to find someone like that. My mind immediately jumps to Chase. He’s so much younger than me, but our connection was undeniable. Could that lustful desire turn into something more?
“Well, he can choke on a dick. The future of sport is female. He either needs to get on board or fuck off,” Taylor argues as she types on her phone.
“What are you doing?” I ask at the same time Ivory offers, “Can I chop off his dick instead?”
“Whoa, killer. Whose dick are we chopping off?” Preston comes back inside carrying the tray of burger patties.
“Not mine. I haven’t done anything,” Miller covers his junk
“Ricardo,” I respond.
“Or as I will now refer to him, Dickardo.” Taylor puts down her phone and raises her glass.
“Yeah, that guy is a tool,” Miller agrees.
“Did he say something to you, Gabs?” Preston questions, helping Ivory put the finishing touches on our dinner.
“Not outright.” I love Preston, but if he knew all the things I deal with in the front office when Mark and Ricardo decide to show up to work, he’d go batshit big brother, and that’s the last thing I need right now.
“The vibes are off,” Ivory answers for me. “He treats Gabby like shit.”
“How so?” Miller crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the counter.
“It’s really not a big deal,” I try again to downplay the situation.
“Don’t lie to me,” Miller responds, his tone serious. The girls choose now of all times to busy themselves with making a plate instead of coming to my rescue. Guess I’m not getting out of this one.
“He just always treats me differently because I’m a woman. He doesn’t even use my name when we’re forced to interact.”
“Do I need to have a talk with him?” Miller’s glare turns deadly. Normally, he’s the goofy little brother of the group, but he is also intensely loyal and protective. I think it stems from having sisters.
“No, I was just telling the girls I don’t want to say anything or rock the boat.”
“I’m handling it,” Taylor cuts me off.
“What do you mean you’re handling it?” I ask, giving her my best what the fuck face.
“Exactly what I said.”
“How are you going to handle it?” I don’t need her to handle it.
“You don’t even work there,” Miller adds, sarcastically.
“I have my ways.” Her general avoidance to the ties she has in the office piques my interest.
“Let’s eat. The show is about to start,” Preston interrupts. “Gabs can handle herself.” He shoots me a wink letting me know he’s got my back.
“Yes, I can. I was just saying that. I don’t know why no one listens to me.
” Getting off the barstool, I round the island and make my plate before taking it outside to their outdoor dining table.
There’s a big screen mounted on the wall above an outdoor fireplace.
Surround sound is wired into hidden speakers around the backyard.
Plush couches sit immediately in front of the fireplace and the large dining table sits off to the side still in view of the TV.
Preston has the sports channel already pulled up with the selection show just starting.
Conversation flows easily as we all take our seats and begin to eat with the announcements playing in the background.
When it comes time for the official announcement of the National League All-Star team, Miller turns up the volume and says, “Shut up. I want to hear what they say about me.”
We all roll our eyes, and Preston pretends he’s the announcer. “And despite his weak old knees and below average bat, the fans have chosen Ryan Miller as the catcher once again this year.”
“Hey!” Miller shouts.
Taylor picks up where Preston left off, “It must be the hair and the way his ass looks in those baseball pants.”
“You checking out my ass, Tay? You know you can have this anytime you want. But I don’t know if you can handle my particular brand of pleasure.” Miller winks and Taylor pretends to gag.
“Ew, gross. Can we not hear about what you like to do in the bedroom?” I toss in, shuddering at the thought of Miller in bed.
“Doesn’t always have to be the bedroom.” Miller smirks but lets it go.
“Who is coaching this year?” Ivory asks between bites. I shoot her a look of thanks for directing the conversation away from Miller’s bedroom prowess.
Preston reaches over to rub her shoulder. “I’m thinking it’ll be your old man.” She smiles at him.
The sportscaster confirms our guess when he says, “Coach Mike Crenshaw will lead the National League team this year. He’s doing great things in Nashville for the Troubadours, so this honor shouldn’t be surprising to anyone.”
“Yay, Daddy Mike,” Taylor cheers, drawing a glare from Ivory and making us all laugh.
“It’s just too easy, Hollywood.” Preston drops a kiss to her head when he walks inside to get a fresh round of drinks.
“Did I hear my name?” Mike walks around the side of the house to the back where we are sitting.
“Daddy Mike,” Miller and I shout this time with Taylor.
Mike just shakes his head and points at Miller. “Don’t you fucking start that in the locker room.”
“I don’t know, I think it’d be fun. You are our daddy after all.” This time it’s Ivory who laughs when Mike slaps Miller on the back of the head.
“Hey, Bug.” Mike wraps Ivory in a bear hug and kisses her on the cheek. “Ya’ll celebrating?”
“Just enjoying the official announcements. Preston is inside. Make yourself a plate. We have plenty.”
“Hey, Coach, help yourself,” Preston leaves the door open as he rejoins us on the porch. He carries a tray of drinks in one hand and shakes Mike’s hand with the other.
“I see they’ve got you trained, son,” Mike says with a chuckle as Preston hands out our cocktails.
“Anything for my girls,” Preston smiles.
“Suck up,” Miller coughs into his hand, making us all laugh again.
Preston flips Miller off and says, “Grab a drink, Coach. We have to do our toast.”
Mike pops inside to grab a beer and quickly makes a burger while we wait for him.
“To our All Stars,” I say, starting the toast.
“And our favorite Coach and Daddy,” Taylor adds.
“To our ladies supporting us in the stands,” Miller says.
“To the best friends in the world,” Preston holds up his drink.
“To family and baseball,” Mike ends the toast. We all clink glasses in the center of the table and then again individually.
This group. This family, as Mike called it, is everything to me.
I’ve been no contact with my blood family for so long that I didn’t realize what I had been missing out on while I was living here in Nashville by myself.
When Ivory moved here, the boys got traded, and Taylor started visiting regularly, it was as if all the puzzle pieces came together and filled my life with a beautiful image.
If only it didn’t feel like a piece was still missing.
Again, my mind wanders to Chase. Or better yet, the man I met on vacation who I knew as Matt. Was the fantasy better than the reality? Or is my missing piece shaped like a overconfident baseball player ten years younger than me who is most definitely off limits?