by Tara Brent
“Whenever I arrive is precisely on time,” he explained, “but I certainly couldn’t have you be tardy, now could I?”
Emiko pursed her lips. “Do you enjoy these games, Hayden? And I must wonder, do you like playing them with your employees or with your women?”
Hayden thought about it. “Yes.”
“That was an either-or— oh. I get it. Very funny.”
The server returned with the bottles and four glasses. “I wasn’t sure if you were both planning on trying each wine, so I brought you two glasses apiece.”
“That’s just fine, thank you,” said Hayden. “We’re ready to order.”
“Are we now?”
“You just regaled me with your tales of menu-perusing, so I would assume as much. After you!”
She grinned at that. “The roasted rabbit for my appetizer and the Crescent Farms duck as my entree if you please.” She eyed Hayden and murmured “Duck season! Wabbit season!”
Hayden guffawed hard at that. “Oh man, you’re good. Okay. So for me, I’ll have the sea scallop and pork belly as my starter and the Niman Ranch strip steak for my main course.”
The server finished scribbling. “All right! So the sea scallop and pork belly followed by the steak for you, and the Looney Tunes special for the lady?”
Emiko chortled. “Yes indeed.”
“How would you like your entrees cooked?” he asked.
“However the chef recommends,” said Hayden plainly. “Thank you!” The server departed, and Hayden returned his attention to Emiko. “So I’ve known you for most of your life and you’re my sister’s best friend, but come to think of it, I’m not sure if I even know you all that well. So how did you find yourself wrapped up in the world of baseball?”
Emiko thought a moment. “I guess it’s always been a passion for me. I suppose it’s in my blood.”
“America’s pastime is in your blood?”
“Well, sure, my parents were immigrants, but my dad left Sweden when he was quite young. But my grandparents signed him up for little league after moving to the states so that he could make friends quickly and acclimate to American culture. The plan worked better than expected! He picked up the game quite quickly and immersed himself in baseball trivia, which he passed on to his daughter.”
“Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?”
“Not important. Anyway, I also played little league.”
“Baseball little league?”
“Yes! I’ll have you know I surprised everybody. There was no rule explicitly stating that girls weren’t allowed to play, so until I hit my teens, I was always the one girl on my team.”
“Did your dad coach?”
“No, though he helped out sometimes. Why?”
“Well, I was wondering how and where they played you back then.”
“Oh well sure the coaches I did have were quite reluctant to give me a fair chance. They always stuck me in right field and had me batting last.”
“Don’t be hating on right field!” said Hayden. “I always wanted the player with the strongest arm there since the throw from there to me over at third is about the longest in the game. I didn’t want to do any extra work if I could help it.”
“Sure,” said Emiko, “but such nuances don’t really apply to nine-year-olds. Anyway, I was scrappy, so by the time the season ended they had me mixed in like everybody else. Until the next season started and I had a new coach, that is.”
At that moment, their appetizers arrived. “My gosh, this looks utterly divine!” she exclaimed.
“Dig in,” he said, and so they did. After a minute or two of eating and drinking, Hayden said, “So it was in middle school that you started playing softball, right?”
“It was an adjustment,” she said, “but I got the hang of it. Batted leadoff most of my life!”
“I remember that. You had the speed, and my sister had the power.”
“Yup! She batted fourth and played first. Dangerous lefty, Harper was.”
“And you were in the middle infield, right?”
“Yes, second base,” she said, pleased.
“I remember. You were good!”
Emiko blushed. “You came to my games?”
“Of course I did. Harper, remember?”
“Oh… right…”
“Were you hoping I was coming just to see you?”
“No! Maybe. I don’t know. Forget it.”
“You were a lot younger than me back then, don’t forget.”
“Technically I’m still as younger than you,” she pointed out.
He laughed. “You know what I mean. Anyway, enough baseball for now. Anything else worth sharing from the life of Emiko Lindberg? Tales of adventure and romance?”
“Well I think being the first half-Asian female play-by-play announcer ranks pretty high as an adventure,” she pointed out. “But beyond that? Nothing to report, honestly.”
“So that covers adventures, but what of romance?”
“Oh, I dunno, the usual,” she evaded.
“Well, are you seeing anybody?”
“Nothing serious.”
“Anything not-so-serious?”
Emiko squirmed a bit. “I guess not that, either. Not presently. I guess they never really measured up to my lifelong crush.”
“And who might that be?” Hayden asked the suddenly blushing Emiko.
The server came to take their appetizers away. “Still have room for dinner proper?”
“More than enough,” she reassured him, glad to have the topic shifted from her prior dating life.
The entrees were just as spectacular as the appetizers if not more. “This is utterly delectable,” she said. “I don’t have duck all that often so this is an especially nice treat to have it done right”
“I have steak all the time,” he said with a flippant wink.
“I’m sure you do,” she said. “You’re definitely the type.”
“I’m not a half bad cook either,” he said. “Though it took me a while to get the hang of it. When I first started grilling it would always end up black on the outside and raw in the middle. Not much of a natural touch but that’s what hard work’s for, right?”
“That it is,” She said. “Mmm. Damn this is good…”
“Perhaps I can invite you to try my cooking sometime.”
Emiko stiffened. “I would genuinely love that more than anything. But…”
“But what?”
“You know I admire you immensely and I do enjoy spending time with you. But I really need to focus in on my career, and as I’m sure you know, I’ll be dealing with some rough feedback as it is with this job. Last thing I need is a rumor spreading that the only reason I have this job is because, well you know. Ultraviolence track 9, your sister said.”
“Lana Del Rey’s ‘I Fucked My Way Up to the Top.’ Classy, Harper,” he muttered, shaking his head in irritation. “Come on. It won’t be like that.”
“Hayden, you know your reputation, and you know that I’m one of only two women in a very male world with fans not known for reasonable discourse.”
“Can I offer you folks, dessert?”
They stared awkwardly at one another, all but ignoring the server, who was of course, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, Emiko crossed her arms and broke the silence: “I’ll have the Chocolate Brooklyn Bridge.”
“Right,” the server replied slowly, his eyes darting between them. “And for you sir?”
“Goat cheese cheesecake,” he replied.
They continued the rest of their meal quietly, still exchanging pleasantries, but there was a clear shift in tone. From Hayden, there was a frustration, but from Emiko, a distinct sadness. Soon, they were finished.
“Quite the hefty tip on an already hefty bill,” Emiko complimented as they walked outside.
“Just my usual 34 percent,” he said casually.
Emiko rolled her eyes. “Oh you do not.”
Hayden smirked. “I d
o.”
“Your default tip percentage is your jersey number?”
“Seemed like a fun way to go.”
Emiko cracked up. “Oh god, you’re too much. But wait, what if you had been, like number 7?”
“I never would have dared take Mickey Mantle’s number directly. I already stole his swing.”
“Yeah but—wait, what??”
“Yup. He has one of the most level swings in baseball history. Seemed logical to model my swing after it.”
Emiko put one hand on her hip. “So you’re telling me that the best player in modern Dodger history modeled his swing after a famous Yankee?”
“Nobody can ever know,” he replied in a mock-whisper.
“Oh don’t worry, I’ll take it with me to the grave,” she chuckled.
“It gets worse,” he admitted.
“Oh?”
“My number 34? Well, 3+4=7. Sooo…”
Emiko whacked him on the chest. “You did steal his number! You were just low-key about it!”
Hayden put his hands up. “Guilty!”
Emiko giggled and leaned against him, one arm around his mighty torso. “This sucks,” she said.
Hayden didn’t respond immediately. “I think I missed something,” he stated finally.
Emiko groaned. “Harper called me out on having a crush on you forever. And it is suuuuper true. Uh, surprise?”
“Actually kinda,” admitted Hayden.
“Seriously? You didn’t notice?”
“Please don’t take this badly, but I was a lot older and had girls throwing themselves at me my whole life. Since you were I guess slightly more discreet, I guess you fell under the radar.”
Emiko rolled her eyes. “Yeah, no way I’m not gonna take that badly.”
“Oh come on,” said Hayden. “Besides, now? When you came into my office the other day, I nearly had an aneurysm. It’s beyond belief how unspeakably beautiful you’ve become, but beyond your pretty features, you just have a powerful presence. You legitimately took my breath away. That same presence is going to make you great at your new job, I might add.”
“And therein lies the problem,” sighed Emiko. “I want to have my cake and eat it too.”
“Meaning…?”
“My whole life I’ve wanted two things: to work in baseball professionally, and to date your sorry ass. Ugh, this is humiliating… But of course, because of this stupid shitty sexist world, I can’t have both. And I’m sorry Hayden but I have to choose my career.”
Hayden gently took her arms in his hands, making Emiko’s heart flutter, and causing her to drastically reconsider her priorities for at least a brief moment.
“I’ve never worried about what people have thought of me,” said Hayden. “I’ve always just done what I wanted, how I wanted it, when I wanted it, with whomever I wanted to do it with. And that goes for everything in life.” He pulled her closer and Emiko allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace. “You shouldn’t be deprived of such freedom.” He leaned in.
Oh screw it, thought Emiko, and she kissed him hard and ferociously. Decades of pent-up romantic tension released all at once on that street corner. Despite herself, Emiko hopped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, continuing to kiss him relentlessly, breaking from his lips only to shower the rest of his face and neck with kisses as well.
Up to that point, it was the most beautiful fifteen seconds of her life.
But then she pushed him away, landing back on her feet.
“I CAN’T! I can’t… I’m so sorry.” With that, she ran off into the night. Behind her, she heard a loud crash. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Hayden had thrown a garbage can against a wall and was beginning to kick it relentlessly. I won’t cry, she told herself. I will not cry.
Chapter 4
Hayden sat stewing at home after his “date” with Emiko. He’d dealt with rejection before. While there were countless women out there who threw themselves at him, there was also a strong contingency of women who wanted to be able to brag about having rejected him. Yeah, Hayden Moreau made a move on me, but I shut him down, they loved to brag. Hayden didn’t mind; if they wanted their shining moment to be making the courageous choice to not sleep with a famous playboy, then it was no skin off his back.
This was different.
He kicked a chair, sending it flying into the wall; a leg broke off. Damn it he thought to himself. Frustrated, he went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. Jesus, what’s the big deal? He scolded himself. She has a good point, and it’s not like you have any shortage of women who want you.
But women were becoming increasingly less satisfying. He had never wanted to be pinned down, sure, but it was more than that. The few times he did try and make a relationship work, his dedication to his team and to the game itself always took precedent. Whenever he entered a relationship, it was great during the off-season, but once the season proper started, complete with a rigorous travel schedule across the country? The feasibility started to slip.
Sure, his teammates managed just fine. Many of them had whole families.
So why couldn’t I ever make it work?
Enough was enough. He needed a distraction.
He flipped through his phone in search of some “regulars” of his, searching for some who were open to more exotic entanglements. Nothing distracts quite like a ménage a trois, he thought to himself, smirking.
Within the hour, the two women arrived: One was Akari Tanaka, the other Greta Anderson. For some reason, they just felt right.
And so they commenced. But as amazing as it should have been, Hayden’s mind kept wandering, and he simply went through the motions. Eventually, he passed out.
It wasn’t until the next morning that he realized that his subconscious had been messing with him: he had deliberately picked one Japanese girl and one Swedish girl. Even in his sordid attempt to distract himself from Emiko, he landed right back there.
***
“You need to talk to Emiko for me.”
“That’s a hard no bro.”
“Jesus sis why do you have to ruin everything?”
“I most certainly do not,” Harper said, and then took a disturbingly large bite out of her bun. “Oh god, who would have thought that pork jowls would be so amazing? BunSmith seriously has the best buns in Brooklyn bar none. Maybe even in the state!”
“I’ve been all over and they’re the best I’ve ever had,” agreed Hayden, “but that’s not really the point here, is it?”
“Nah the point is you think I’m going to pimp out my best friend to you, which is hilarious and depressing all at once.” Hayden groaned and put his face in his hands. Harper cocked an eyebrow. “Are you pining, big brother? Never thought I’d see the day. Except after Rita Speller dumped you in the 10th grade. You were sobbing all night. You sounded like a hippo giving birth to a tractor-trailer.”
“Could you not?”
“I can’t not. Annoying you gives my life its sparkle.”
“Okay listen,” he said, fists clenched. “I’m not going to do anything to ruin her career. I just like her. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve actually liked somebody?”
“Hmm,” she said, “I feel like the last time you were truly smitten was with Kelsey Chavez, back during your rookie year. Sorry about that, by the way.”
“I still haven’t forgiven you for that,” he muttered.
“It ain’t my fault she preferred all of this!” teased Harper, dragging her fingers along her own curves. “Besides, remember my prom date? Raymond was fit, handsome, caring, well-dressed, the perfect date. He comes over for pictures and all he could do is stare at your ugly mug.”
“If you couldn’t tell Raymond was gay, that’s definitely not my fault.”
“Just like how you not realizing that Kelsey was a lesbian wasn’t my fault.”
“But I didn’t sleep with Raymond!”
“You’re not gay!”
“Neither
were you!”
“I was exploring my bi side!”
“Yeah, with a girl I was into!”
“Who wouldn’t touch your or any other man’s schlong with a ten-foot pole!”