Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Decker
I shut my door and jog down the last steps of the concrete staircase on the side of the condo building.
The security gate creaks as I push it open and let it shut after me.
I glance over my shoulder to see another cardboard sign posted on the security gate.
The Dugout is written in girly script, and a bunch of small notes are stuck on it with whatever the diamond girls have handy. Gum, mostly.
I don’t bother taking it down and throwing it in the trash can. If I do, a new one will be in its place tomorrow.
I stopped counting the notes after the third week. They’re just women trying to get through the one door that keeps them out. Meanwhile, Penelope Ripley hasn’t needed a door in years.
It’s odd to me that the diamond girls put so much effort into contacting us.
We’re just like any other guy they’d meet at a bar.
Sure, we play professional baseball, but I’m pretty sure they don’t understand the life nor schedule we live.
Then again, I remind myself they’re probably not looking for a boyfriend, more like a one-night hookup.
I never thought I’d be that guy. For a long time, I was the other Davis twin—the one nobody was watching, the one no scout or coach was driving twelve hours to mold into something. The one who had to figure it out alone.
From the stories they tell, Hayes and Easton were stars of their high school and college teams. They knew they’d go pro from a young age.
My dad had Foster down south to make damn sure he’d go pro, leaving me in the dust to play rec ball.
The comparison between us twins carved something out of me back then.
Foster beat me in everything, and I let it mean more than it should have.
But his words from the dugout the other day ring true. I’ve been awarded four Gold Gloves in my career. I’ve proved my worth, so why am I having the yips now—when it actually matters?
It’s no surprise Jagger called me to a meeting.
Agents want to meet with their players when they’re messing up during a contract year.
The press says Foster coming back has changed me, but that’s not it.
I love my brother and couldn’t be happier that we’re mending our fences after being torn apart most of our lives.
Hell, I’m not even going after the one woman I’ll always love in an effort to preserve my relationship with my brother.
If that doesn’t say something about who I’m choosing, I don’t know what does.
The pancake restaurant Jagger is known to meet all his clients at isn’t very busy since it’s midday during a work week.
There’s still a guy behind the glass making pancakes into the shapes requested by the guests though.
One of the waitresses must recognize me because she points toward the far-right corner of the restaurant where Jagger sits in a booth for two.
His tie is thrown over his shoulder, his reading glasses on, his thumbs moving over his phone screen with the focus of a man brokering a million-dollar deal. He glances at his watch when I approach.
“I’m on time.”
He smiles. “Early actually. Which is why I love you, Decker.” He turns off his phone and sets it on the table face down.
I slide into the other side of the booth and wait.
He laughs and shakes his head. “It always amazes me.”
I nod, annoyance coiling around me like a snake.
The laugh. The way I walked in. Something about Foster and me being nothing alike.
I’ve heard it a hundred times. I’m done with everyone comparing me to my brother.
Sure, I have the favorable reputation, and maybe that’s why I hate it.
Foster isn’t a bad guy. He made the most of who brought him up, and if anything, I’d say we’re swapping personalities more every day.
Jagger stares at me long and hard, but I don’t stir or fidget. “I wish I had better news.”
A sigh escapes me. “I figured.”
“They’re not budging.”
The waitress comes by, and I’m thankful I can take the time to tamp down my anger at a team I thought I’d proved my worth to long ago.
“Hey, Heidi. The usual please, and I’ve been told to request a lily this time. If it’s not too much for Eric.”
The smiling blonde shakes her head. “He’s done them before.”
Jagger nods and smiles. “Thanks. She’s into a flower theme lately. Begging Quinn to redo her room.”
Jagger and the waitress talk a little more about his daughter, who always gives him the pancake shape she wants him to ask for.
“You’re up.” Jagger pulls me from my thoughts about what city I might end up in next year.
“Egg whites, peppers, mushrooms, and avocado. Side of sourdough toast. Thank you.” I hand Heidi the menu.
She leaves, and Jagger leans back in the booth.
“I get this isn’t the news we were hoping for.
I had hoped they’d make some promises or at least give me a little more assurance that you’re their guy.
But payroll is high. The DICs all went into arbitration this year, and the Colts granted them higher salaries.
Thankfully they can’t go free agent, but…
Harkins isn’t going to cost them what you do. ”
I shake my head.
“You’re a smart guy, Deck. You get the way the game is played.”
“The DICs are outfielders. And I’m not asking for more, just some security to stay with the team.”
He sips his coffee and sets his mug down.
“They’re good players. We knew Drew was a big name when he was drafted.
They aren’t even the real problem. Harkins is.
So far, Ripley doesn’t want to play him.
I know he has a soft spot for you.” He eyes me over his mug again, bringing up the past I share with both the Ripleys—father and daughter.
“Keep Harkins off the field, and I’m sure you’ll get the contract you want at the end of the year, but it’s my job to prepare you—and I want you to go free agent next year if the Colts don’t take you. ”
“Free agency is like a bachelor auction, no thank you.”
“Free agency is where the money is, and you’re going to be in demand. Actually, Graham Sutter called me this morning, asked a few questions about you. They have a hole at third right now and think you’re the guy to fill it.”
“New York?”
Jagger nods with dollar signs in his eyes. It’s probably giving him a hard-on thinking about the contract. They have the money to pay well for free agency.
“Yeah, but I’m not looking for money. I want stability. I like Chicago. I like my teammates, and I like—”
“Penelope Ripley?”
I shake my head, but my jaw is tight, and Jagger sees it. He always sees it. That’s the thing about having an agent who’s known you since you were twenty-two—there’s no poker face left.
“We’re not anything,” I say.
“That’s good, because if you pursue her, you can kiss not only Chicago goodbye but your relationship with your brother as well.”
“I know that.” There’s a bite to my tone.
Heidi brings over our meals, and I welcome the distraction again.
“I’m not sure you do. I get that you two had something, and believe me, Quinn would kill me if I love-blocked any of my players, so you do you on what you think is best, but I’m warning you—you pick the girl, and there will be consequences.
All that to say, I’ll channel my wife for a moment—love is a hard thing to shove in a box and hope the lid stays closed.
You’re talking to a guy who let the one slip away and luckily won her heart again.
It’s my job to let you know what you’re in danger of jeopardizing is all. ”
I unwrap my silverware from the paper napkin, set the napkin in my lap, and fork my eggs. “I know. I’ve been sitting on that box for three years, but lately, the lid’s been slipping.”
He does the same with his silverware and points his fork at me before he dives into his own meal. “That’s why I love you—you’re smart, you’re conscientious, and you have your eye on the prize.”
I drop my gaze to the plate so he can’t see what his words did—because for the first time today, something cracked. Not anger. Not frustration. Just the plain, quiet truth that I’m tired of pretending this is manageable.
My longing for Penelope is the one thing I struggle to control, and the more she infiltrates my group and my team, the harder it is to act as if we’re just friends. Maybe New York is where I should be.
“I don’t even have to give you a set of rules like I did Foster and Hayes. You probably already have your own.”
I do, but I don’t list them.
“Just stick to the grind. Put the work in, and the results will come. Then you’ll have options for next year, and since I’m your agent, we’ll make sure whoever wants you will have to pay handsomely for you.” He shoots me a toothy smile and digs into his meal.
As I put butter and jelly on my bread, I hope he’s right, because I’m sacrificing a lot. Penelope has been mine in every way that mattered since before I knew what that meant, and I’m doing everything in my power to keep her out of the wreckage of a life I’m still trying to hold together.