Chapter 11 Luca
LUCA
It’s been three days since our meeting with Peak Properties and the debacle with Miranda, and I’m not sure if it’s intentional, but I feel like Isla’s avoiding me.
Not that we’ve had a reason to meet, but on most days, I run into her at the administrative offices that are finally complete at the stadium at least once or twice. This week? Once. I’ve seen her once in three days, and all I got was a quick smile as she hurried in the opposite direction.
I’m a forty-two-year-old man. I don’t obsess over things often. But the amount of mental energy I’ve expended thinking about Isla and wondering if she’s avoiding me is ridiculous.
And exhausting.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, boss, but are you sleeping okay? You look…tired,” Rafe says as I walk into the coaches’ office just next to the locker room.
I run my fingers through my already rumpled hair and let out a laugh. “Yeah, tired is one word.”
Rafe just chuckles, pushing back from his desk. “For fun reasons, I hope.”
I huff out a laugh of my own at the man who’s becoming a good friend. Good enough that he feels comfortable teasing me like that, even if he has no clue how far off the mark he is. “Yeah, sure.”
Not even slightly fun. More like pure torture, as sleep has eluded me every damn night this week.
I toss and turn, thinking about Isla, worrying about how to handle my growing attraction to her, wondering whether she feels anything for me, and then wanting to kick my own ass for even thinking about that.
“Alright, well, the guys are ready for you. I told ’em to come up with questions or suggestions, but we’ll see what they’ve got.”
“Were you able to get everyone on the existing roster here?” I ask.
“Not quite, but most of them are here.”
“Great. So, before we go in, have you and Levi thought some more on who you want to add to the roster?”
He nods. “Yes. The existing guys are good. Solid. You’ve got a strong starting lineup, although you need more pitchers.
I read up on the league rules, and we don’t have enough guys if we have a stretch of more than four games in a row.
Remember the pitcher I told you about last week, Brady Dixon?
My contact who told me about him tracked down his number, and I gave him a call yesterday.
Turns out, he’s very interested, and he’s considering our offer.
If we can lock him down, that would help. ”
“He’s the one that was about to get called up to the big leagues, right?”
“That’s him. No idea why he walked away, but it’s good news for us.”
“Definitely. Isla can market the hell out of that acquisition, if he’s on board with some publicity. Can we find out why he walked away from the majors, just to make sure there’s no skeletons in any closets that could come back to bite us in the ass?”
“Good plan. I’ll ask some of my contacts in Vancouver if anyone has heard something. The head of media relations for the Tridents is the kind of woman who knows everything. I’ll give Willow a call.”
“Excellent,” I say with a smile. “Let’s make it happen.”
Rafe nods again. “I’ve also been in touch with a couple of universities to let them know to pass on my name if they have any players who don’t want to go to the majors but still want to play ball. They might be younger than some of our guys, but fresh skills never hurt.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agree. “Let’s go talk to the team.”
We head into the locker room where twenty-odd players sit around chatting.
The guys range in age from mid twenties to thirties.
All of them have some experience playing at the college level or on major league farm teams. They share a passion for baseball, but for various reasons, it’s not their primary career, making the independent league a perfect fit.
And best of all, I know from the brief conversations I’ve had with many of them, they want to win. They want to be a team they can be proud of, a team the town is proud of.
I want to make damn sure that happens.
“Gentlemen, you all know Luca, which means you all know he pays your salaries. Which means you better shut up, listen up, and buckle up. He’s got some things to share.”
I chuckle at Rafe’s introduction, but hell if it doesn’t work. The guys all settle down and look at me.
“Thanks, Coach.” I grin before turning back to the players.
“Alright. First, thanks for coming in today. I know it’s the offseason and you’ve probably got a lot of other things going on, but I wanted to make sure we had plenty of opportunities to sit down and chat about where things are headed for the Thunder.
As you know, it’s my goal to bring the Thunder back to its glory days, when everyone knew exactly how awesome the sport of baseball is and felt proud to call this team their home team.
Now, I know, you all play your asses off out on the field.
There’s no doubt in my mind that the struggles the Thunder have been facing are not coming from in here.
But change is needed. And in order to make that change for the better, I need your help.
We’re recruiting new players, we’ve renovated the stadium, we’re working on a kick-ass marketing plan, but none of that will be possible without each and every one of you being on board as well. ”
I pause and look around the room. There’s a mixture of reactions, from excitement, to pride, and more than a few looks of doubt. I don’t blame them for wondering if I can deliver. They barely know me. I’ll prove them wrong.
“You’re all here because you love baseball and you love Cedar Creek.
I know the last several seasons haven’t been the greatest, and I hope to change that.
My goal is to make this team a part of what makes Cedar Creek a great place to live.
This might not be the big leagues, but I’m confident you can still play a fucking great game.
We just have to get the town to see that.
Which is why I’m hoping I can convince you to give me a little more of your time to do some publicity and be at some community events before spring training, so we can all work together to bring the Thunder out of the shadows and into the light again. ”
“Are we gonna be dancing and doing backflips like that team that’s all over social media?” one of the players pipes up, tossing a ball into the air. “You know, the pineapples or whatever?”
The other guys all chuckle and talk amongst themselves.
I grin and wait until they settle down. “Listen, if you want to bring some trick plays to the diamond, go for it. Just make sure you catch the damn ball. But dancing? Nah, not us. We want to entertain the fans, hell yeah, but with baseball first and foremost.”
I get a few hell yeah’s and lots of murmurs of agreement to that.
“Alright, glad you’re on board. Now, here’s what I need from you today…”
Just under an hour later, I leave the locker room, satisfied I’ve got buy-in from the team. They’re all talking animatedly about potential recruits, the new jerseys we handed out, and yes, trick play ideas.
I’m all for whatever gets everyone energized and excited once the season starts.
As I make my way back up to the executive offices, my mind turns from the meeting I just had to a different kind of meeting I need to have with a certain head of marketing.
I’m still not entirely sure how to handle things with Isla, but the one thing I do know is that I want her.
I don’t have a fucking clue how to make that work, or if we even can, or hell—if she even wants me—but I’m pretty damn sure she does.
Although, that could change when she finds out about my leg.
But none of that matters if I can’t find the damn woman to have a conversation with her in the first place.
Apparently, luck is on my side. Because for once, Isla is in her office when I walk past. I knock on the door frame, and she looks up from her computer, her cheeks flushing as soon as she realizes it’s me.
“Luca. Hi. How can I help you?”
I move into her office. “Just wanted to check-in, see how everything was going. And give you an update on the sponsorship situation.”
“Oh, great. Please, take a seat.”
I sit down in the chair opposite her desk and try to subtly move my prosthetic leg into a natural position.
“We’ve got the gala tomorrow, and I convinced Dom we should donate a few sets of season tickets for the silent auction.
The owner of Devereaux Hotels will also be there and agreed to partner up for a weekend getaway package with a hotel stay, restaurant voucher, and game tickets.
And Peak Properties sent over their signed agreement yesterday. ”
“That’s wonderful. I’ll get to work on the signage designs immediately.”
I nod slowly before leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. Her gaze drops to my forearms, and I mentally thank past me for rolling up my sleeves to my elbows. Good move, Calloway.
“There’s one other thing we should discuss.”
She tilts her head to the side, with an adorable small frown. “What’s that?”
“You kissed me,” I state with an amused smirk.
Her eyes grow wide as she flushes a deeper shade of pink.
“On the cheek. It was a…a favour. You seemed uncomfortable with that woman, so I didn’t think, I acted.
I apologize if it was too much,” she says, clearly sounding flustered by my direct approach.
That’s good, flustered I can handle. Avoidant, I can’t.
“No apology needed.” I lean in slightly. “I wanted to thank you for the favour, Isla. It was appreciated.”
She nods, her green eyes flashing at me. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips and it’s everything I can do not to close the distance and kiss her.
For real this time.
But kissing her at work? Bad fucking idea. So I force myself to back off.
“I’ll be picking you up at six tomorrow evening for the gala.” I stand up straight and put my hands in my pockets. “Having you on my arm will definitely be a rose, not a thorn.” I can’t resist winking before I turn and walk away.