Chapter 3
GABE
After the game and a tough loss, the team takes a charter bus to our hotel.
I let the players check in first, making sure they get settled in.
As they get their key cards, I look around.
And wouldn’t you know, a beautiful woman walks through the door, soft-sided leather bag in her hand, wearing a smart business suit with a skirt that shows off her shapely legs and heels.
And instantly, something stirs inside of me, my libido sitting up and taking notice.
I like what I see. Which is saying something, since I haven’t been with anyone since my ex.
Which has been almost a year. Easy there, tiger.
I wonder who she is?
“Next,” the attendant at the front desk calls out.
I don’t know who she is and I probably won’t ever see her again. Too bad. I would have liked to get a chance to get to know her. I check in and accept my room key and head upstairs, the woman pushed to the back of my mind.
We had a day game today, so there’s plenty of time for me to get comfy in my room and check in with my kids.
Deacon is a senior in high school, playing varsity baseball.
Kyra’s a sophomore and will graduate in a couple of years.
The years have flown by, but it hasn’t diminished my love for my children.
Flicking open the screen on my phone, I FaceTime Kyra first.
“Hey, baby girl. How are you?”
“Hi, Dad. I’m good,” she tells me, a smile on her face. “I miss you.” She gives me a small smile. Our conversations pretty much go the same way, every time we talk.
“I miss you, too. Catch me up. How’s school? How’s your mom?”
She lets out an exaggerated sigh. “School is school. I joined the debate team.”
Of course she did. She’ll be great at it. She’s as stubborn as they come. “That’s great! How are your classes?”
“Eh, they’re okay, I guess.”
“Just okay?” I ask. Usually, Kyra loves her classes. But she doesn’t seem all that interested in them at the moment. I wonder why?
“I wish I could take all college classes. High school classes are so boring,” she whines.
“Why don’t you ask your mom about it? I’m sure they can work on that.
” In fact, I know they can, because the high school both her and Deacon attend is a private prep school.
The school pushes all students to achieve high levels of success.
I know, because I pay for it. It’s not cheap, let me tell you.
But it’s worth it. I want my kids to have the best chance at success.
And the school they attend helps with that.
“I will, Dad. Where are you this time?”
“Pittsburgh.”
She looks behind me. Another day, another hotel.
“And your mom?” I remind her.
“Mom’s good. She has a new boyfriend.”
Oh? That’s news. “She does, does she? Do I need to be worried?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow.
Kyra sighs dramatically. “No, He’s really nice. Boring, actually.”
I laugh a little under my breath. Well, then. “You’ll let me know if there’s ever a problem, right?”
“Yes, Dad,” she answers, rolling her eyes. “Hey, I need to go. I’m supposed to be studying.”
Right. Sounds to me she has better things to do than talk to her dear old dad.
That’s fine. I’m glad I got to talk to her.
She seems to be doing okay. But I’ll be having a conversation with her about her classes.
And her personal life. Dollars to donuts, there’s a boy, and she probably won’t tell me about him.
So I’ll ask her mother. She’ll know if she does or not.
And if she does, then I’ll be talking with said boy.
And if said boy hurts her, I’ll break his fingers.
And maybe a leg. Depends on what he does.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll let you go. Tell your mom I said ‘hi.’ I love you.”
“I will. Love you, too, Dad,” she replies, ending the video chat. Aww, to be young again.
Next up, FaceTime with Deacon. And, as luck would have it, he answers. I’m 2 for 2.
“Hey, D! How’s it going?” I ask, excited to talk to both my kids.
“Hey, Dad. I’m good.”
“Tell me what’s new. How is baseball going?” Immediately after I ask, I cringe inwardly. I hate that I’m not there for all his games. I would love to be, but I can’t because of my career.
“Aww, not much new. It’s only practice.”
“How’s your arm?” He’s been having a bit of soreness.
“Better. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
He’s a pitcher. And his coach doesn’t like to let him rest. It’s a small bone of contention between me and his coach.
I try to respect the man’s decisions, but he also needs to remember who is a former MLB player.
I know how these things work. “That’s good to hear. Don’t let coach work you too hard.”
“I won’t.”
“How’s your mom?” I want to see if Deacon will tell me about his mom’s new boyfriend.
“She’s fine. She’s been seeing this guy.”
“Oh?” I say, acting surprised.
“He’s, um, he’s fine. He treats her well. Takes her out. That kind of stuff.”
He seems to be okay. So far, anyway. “Anything else about him?”
“No,” he answers, shaking his head.
“How’s school?”
“Fine, I guess.”
“Are you still dating that one girl…” I can’t remember her name. He changes girlfriends like the wind changes direction. All the damn time.
“No. She kissed Robert,” he tells me, scrunching up his face. “Like, gross.”
I laugh. Oh, high school angst. There’s nothing like it.
“Looks like you’re on track to make the postseason.”
“Looks that way,” I reply, rubbing my stubble on my chin. I wear a slight beard (more like stubble) year-round. It suits me. “I’ll send tickets, if we make it all the way.”
He looks straight at me. “For the whole team?”
I give him a big smile. “I’ll try.” I don’t want to get his hopes up. But I should be able to swing that.
“Sweet! I gotta go, Dad. Talk later!” he tells me, ending the video chat.
All done, I head to the shower. I need to rinse off, then it’s almost time for the team dinner. After that, the night is all mine.
The team dinner takes almost an hour and a half.
The guys are a bit subdued after their loss earlier today.
As with anything in life, you win some and lose some.
But, unlike life, baseball is make-it-or-break-it.
We need another win to solidify our place in the postseason race.
And we can do that with tomorrow’s game.
After we win, we’re back home for five days to end the season.
Team dinner over, I sit at the hotel bar sipping a top-shelf whiskey as I contemplate life.
I think about what Adam said on the plane.
It’s been over a year since my divorce. I haven’t put myself out there since.
When my divorce was finalized, I was numb.
I threw back a few drinks and moved the fuck on.
I didn’t mourn the end of my marriage. I just moved on with my life.
That’s all I could do. But now that I’ve fallen into a routine of sorts, my life finally in order again, maybe Adam is right.
Maybe I need to open myself back up again.
I’ve been closed off ever since my divorce.
But, what’s the point? I’m still gone all the time because of my career.
And there’s also the fact that I’m not looking for anything more right now.
Wait a minute... I don’t have to hop back into a relationship right away. Or even marriage for that matter. I’m single and free to do whatever I want. Epiphany over, I’m about to finish my drink when the woman I can’t seem to forget sits down at the other end of the bar.
Layla
After my dinner meeting with potential investors, I take a cab back to the hotel.
It’s early yet, not even 9:00 p.m. The dinner meeting went well, but was boring as hell.
Most of these types of meetings are. But, it’s part of the job.
I’m just glad it’s over with. When I left, the investors seemed happy and confident.
I have no doubt they’ll invest in my latest venture. It’s just a matter of time.
My mind is all business. But when I enter the hotel, I notice a man at the bar.
And not just any man. This man is easily in his forties, with dark brown hair that’s graying at the temples.
I normally wouldn’t give him or any other man another thought, but the man was clearly in peak shape.
His lean body spoke to the level of his physical fitness.
My body, crying out for something I haven’t given it in such a long time, sits up and takes notice.
And the clincher? The man’s voice. The low drawl, smooth as silk, went straight to my lady parts.
When he checked in at the front desk, talking with the woman working behind the counter, not only was his voice smooth and sultry, he was polite, too.
That’s another thing about men these days—they don’t know how to be polite.
They also don’t know how to treat a woman.
Especially a woman they feel threatened by.
Which, unfortunately, I’ve done by just being me.
I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am today—a CEO who’s a self-made millionaire.
I’m driven, yet kind. I just happen to have the drive to make something of myself.
I won’t stop until I’m satisfied and it will be many years until I’m satisfied with making new startup companies.
I live for the hard work and the satisfaction of seeing my businesses succeed and then be sold off for millions.
I am who I am, and if men simply can’t handle it, they can take a flying leap.
The hot forty-something man is alone, sipping a drink, watching the television behind the bar. He looks relaxed. Speaking of relaxing, I could use a drink to unwind after the long and successful day.
Heading to the hotel bar, I make it a point to sit down at the opposite end. Slipping into a seat, I order a drink.
“Pinot Noir, please,” I tell the bartender.
The bartender nods and walks off.