Strikeout (LA Suns #1)

1. Are We Being Punk’d?

ONE

ARE WE BEING PUNK’D?

ISABELLA

This is my worst nightmare.

I’m sure that sounds like an exaggeration, but it’s not. This is truly my worst nightmare.

“Ms. Rossi, are you listening?” A voice pulls me from my internal spiral.

“Um… yes?” I say, although it comes out as more of a question as I return my attention to Mr. Boseman.

My boss.

The head of Boseman Production Security.

The one who threw this meeting for a “quick chat” on my calendar first thing this morning with no context, throwing my brain into an immediate nosedive spiral.

The one who’s just told me they’re pulling me out of my comfort zone to head up a new team due to “staffing shortages.”

Sports security.

I clear my throat and refocus on the conversation at hand.

“Sir, I completely understand the increased demand and lack of available staff to do this, but I have to ask… why me? I know nothing about sports. And everything about film production.” It’s been my safe space for the entirety of my tenure with this company.

The only thing I’ve ever known. And I love it.

I don’t want to do anything else. This is what I was meant to do.

He nods along while I speak, as if acknowledging my concerns are valid.

“Yes, yes Ms. Rossi, I get that. But you’re one of our most skilled department heads.

I need someone I can trust to get the sports team back in line and ensure these productions are going according to the standards we have in place.

You’re the first person I could think of that I trust so inherently to get this done quickly and efficiently. ”

I want to scream. While I appreciate he’s noticed the value I add to the company I’ve devoted nearly a decade of my life to, I still can’t believe he’s doing this.

As if he can see the war raging in my head, he tacks on, “It would only be a temporary transfer.”

Temporary? I could do temporary…

“There’s no set timeframe of course. It would all be dependent on how quickly you can get the team up to speed and appoint a suitable replacement.

But once that’s all finished, you can move back to the television and film department.

” He folds his hands together and leans forward, all indications he’s about to drop the bomb of all bombs on me.

“If this all goes well Ms. Rossi, I’m sure we can sit down and have some discussions about your future with this company and a possible promotion. ”

My pulse spikes at the words. A promotion?

I haven’t had a promotion since I was bumped up to senior manager.

The next step up from there would be… director.

And would come with a major pay increase.

That would be… wow. I could really use that.

I could get my car fixed, find a better apartment for Jordan and me, maybe even take a vacation. Ugh, I could really use a vacation.

Throwing back my shoulders in an attempt to convey a confidence I’m not entirely sure I feel, I give him my answer. “When do you want me to start?”

“Wait, I’m sorry. Say that again? I don’t think I heard you correctly the first time because surely you didn’t say you were transferring to sports.

” The disgust drips from Jordan’s voice and her nose wrinkles when she says the word ‘sports.’ I mean, she’s not entirely wrong.

I am not a sporty person. Plus, the athletes?

They always look so sweaty and smelly and… no.

I drop my head into my hands and sigh. “I did say sports.”

Jordan’s hazel eyes are wide, light brown brows lifted to her hairline, mirroring my own horror at the announcement.

“Isa. SPORTS? He’s gotta be kidding. Right?

This is some sort of belated April Fool’s?

You know nothing about sports!” God, I love Jordan.

She gets me. My current roommate and best friend since college.

We were in all the same gen-ed courses together, and we clicked.

From then on, we made sure we were in every elective course together until graduation.

We lived together for a good part of our college days and now that we’re both living in Los Angeles, it only made sense to live together again.

She’s so strong-willed and opinionated that she sticks up for her friends at every turn.

Hence her absolute outrage on my behalf about the transfer.

“I told him that,” I point out.

“And yet, he’s still transferring you to sports?

Are you sure you’re not being Punk’d? Liz, is Ashton Kutcher hiding around here somewhere?

” Jordan looks to our other friend that finishes off this trio before looking around our living room as if Kutcher might actually be sequestered somewhere in our two-bedroom apartment.

Liz—better known by the rest of the world as Elizabeth Harding—is a child star turned big-name Hollywood actress.

But to me, she’s one of my best friends.

We met when she was cast on one of the productions I was assigned to early on in my career, and as one of only a few women on the set, we bonded.

Until now, I was working on any production she was cast on, at her request—one of the few times she’s pulled out any kind of diva-like request.

But now, I guess I’ll be on sports. I mentally gag at the thought.

Liz laughs, shaking her head and sending the messy blonde bun on the top of her head flopping back and forth. “As far as I’m aware, he’s not around. But I wouldn’t be opposed.” She lifts one shoulder with a wink at Jordan, her dark blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Careful, Liz. Jackson doesn’t like to share.” I give her a playful smirk.

She rolls her eyes. “Please, he would be on his knees for Kutcher in a second.”

I cough out a surprised laugh. “You know, I’d believe it.”

“We’re getting off topic!” Jordan claps her hands. “Sports, Isa. What will you even be doing?”

“Well, a lot it seems. I have to completely rebuild the security team from the ground up. Everyone is new so the whole team needs training on top of writing up a whole slew of policies and procedures because my predecessor didn’t document anything.

But first, I need to figure out how we’re currently working with the production crews we’re contracted with before I can even start the trainings and create the policies.

So, for now I’ll be stepping in as a close protection agent supporting the productions on the ground so I can get a feel for how they operate and identify areas for improvement.

And then I have to figure out the rest from there.

” In theory, it sounds simple enough when compared with the logistics coordination I’m used to handling for the film productions.

But I’m well aware this will be a massive workload to manage.

“So, like, what sports are you doing?” Jordan asks.

“I don’t know all of them, but I know the production team works on all the major sporting leagues. NFL, NHL, MLB, NBA,” I say, ticking them off on my fingers. “Not sure what else there is. But their seasons are all so different, most of them run from fall through early summer.”

“First off, that’s a whole lot of acronyms I don’t understand. Second, it’s April. What counts as early summer? Are they all finished now, and you have to push papers around until next season?” Liz asks, head tilted and brows furrowed.

I bark out a laugh. “I wish! Hockey and basketball—NHL and NBA—are heading into their playoffs in the next month or so. Football won’t start pre-season until August.” I sigh, knowing I only have one option.

“That leaves me with baseball. They started their season last month, so Mr. Boseman thinks that will be the best place to start while it’s still early and I can get the ‘full experience.’ They’re playing some away games the rest of this week, so I’ll start with their next set of home games next weekend.

” I flop backwards, lying so I’m sprawled across our sectional with my arm flung over my eyes.

“Why did it have to be the most boring sport to exist?” I whine.

The question was rhetorical, and yet Jordan still feels obligated to answer.

“I thought golf was the most boring sport? They’re always so silent and you just watch some middle-aged men smack a ball around a course for eighteen holes.

At least baseball has a bit more action and some competitiveness behind it.

” I remove my arm and tilt my head in her direction with a look on my face that says really? She only offers a shrug in exchange.

“Okay, but like, I wouldn’t say baseball is the worst thing. Look at these guys!” Liz flips her phone around to face us, and suddenly all I see are men with wide smiles in tight baseball pants that really emphasize their rear ends. I mean, I guess some of them are cute.

Wait… no.

“Liz, I’m not allowed to ‘fraternize’”—I throw air quotes around the word—“with anyone. The production crew or the team. You should very well know the rule. I could get fired.”

She sighs and drops her sad eyes back to the collection of baseball hotties she was looking at. “Yeah, I know,” she drags out the words, dejected. “I still wish you would let me set you up with one of Jackson’s friends. You haven’t dated anyone since Anthony.” She gives me the puppy dog eyes then.

She’s been trying to set me up with some of their friends ever since Anthony and I broke up.

I thought he was the one. We dated all throughout college after meeting freshman year.

We were together for another two years after we graduated.

But right after graduation, I started working for Boseman Production Security.

I was traveling frequently for work which was putting a strain on the relationship.

We grew apart without even realizing it.

Then, one day, Anthony sat me down between jobs to tell me he “couldn’t do this anymore.

” And that was that. A five-year relationship flushed down the drain like a dead goldfish.

Along with my heart. It’s been two years, give or take, since we split, and I haven’t had a serious relationship since.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ve gone on the occasional date here and there, had a few casual hookups.

But I never felt that same spark with any of them, so I never made an effort to pursue anything further.

I’m perfectly content being single. And who really needs a man for an orgasm.

There are these magical electronic inventions that do it just as good, if not better, than most men.

I let out a resigned sigh. “Liz, you know I don’t date actors.

For so many reasons. Number one, they’re dramatic.

Like, all the time.” Liz shoots me a scathing glare, and I throw my hands up in a gesture of innocence.

“Sorry babe, but they are! You’re really going to tell me Jackson isn’t dramatic?

Please. That man swore he was dying when the two of you broke up for a hot minute. ” I give her a knowing look.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, he’s pretty dramatic.” While her words are anything but loving, the warmth and affection in her tone changes their entire meaning. She’s so in love with that man, it’s disgusting. And also hilarious, knowing how much she despised him at first. I’m happy for her. Really.

That sounded convincing, right?

“Number two,” I say, returning to my list, “if they ever end up on a production I’m working, I’ll get pulled off.

I don’t want a relationship to interfere with my career.

Number three, I travel as much as they do.

That’s asking to be a nightmare. Anthony couldn’t even handle my schedule, and he was always around.

Imagine how stressful it would be to maintain a relationship when we’re both traveling all the time?

We’d be like ships passing in the night.

I couldn’t do that. I’m not strong enough for it,” I finish quietly.

“Oh honey, you’re plenty strong!” Jordan jumps on top of my prone body, squeezing all the air from my lungs, strands of her mousey brown hair finding its way into my mouth.

“Don’t let what happened with Anthony deter you from finding your true love.

And don’t count anyone out because of their career. ”

I wheeze a laugh. “Whatever you say, Jord, so long as you get off me so I can breathe.”

“Oops, sorry.” She offers a sheepish smile as she lifts off my body.

“So, Liz, what are you and Jackson planning for your anniversary?” I ask, trying to shift the conversation.

With the way Liz’s face brightens, it was the right call of topics because now Jordan and Liz start to ramble on about private villas and Greek isles.

I couldn’t be happier to no longer have the topic of my love life as the main attraction in this discussion.

Or lack thereof. But at the same time, I have this pit in my stomach at the thought.