Bossed

by Sloane Howell

  Chapter 23

  Jenny Jackson

  It’d been about two weeks and I’d stayed home with Dad every day. Everything about it was perfect, to be honest. We’d talked about baseball and pretty much everything else but Ethan. I ordered takeout and talked Dad’s ear off. Dad was a quiet guy, a listener. Unless it was baseball related. Maybe he wasn’t that way until he had to raise a snarky daughter on his own, and then the snark doubled once Kelsey came into the picture.

  Dad didn’t ask about Ethan and I didn’t know what I would’ve told him anyway. If he knew some of the things Ethan had done, he’d probably try to hunt him with a shotgun. I wouldn’t have blamed him. I tapped my chin. Maybe I should tell him.

  “You ever going back to work?” Dad leaned over to look at me.

  “Don’t start. The game is on.”

  “Fine. You see where Salvatore got a hundred and ten million?”

  I sighed. I’m sure Dad knew Ethan worked on that deal. It was all over SportsCenter. Dad must’ve thought he was clever, using baseball to get me to talk about my job.

  “Yep.”

  “The house is too quiet. You need to talk?”

  The doorbell rang, thank God. I stood up and kissed Daddy on the forehead. “I’m fine. Stop worrying.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Just zip it. I said I’m fine.” I walked down the hall and through the living room to the door.

  A deliveryman stood there in a green polo shirt holding the most gorgeous arrangement of flowers I’d ever seen, red and white roses and calla lilies.

  “Are you Jenny Jackson?”

  “Yes.”

  “These are for you.” He held them out.

  I snagged the card from them and left him holding the vase.

  Jenny,

  I’m sorry. Can we please talk?

  Ethan

  I stuck the card back on the little stick holder that held it up. “I was mistaken. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “Now, Jenny, you know that isn’t true.”

  My gaze shot toward the driveway. Matt Stallworth was walking up.

  Oh, what the hell was this?

  “What are you doing here?”

  He walked up and took the flowers from the delivery guy. “I’m here to see your dad.” Matt walked right past me into the house and set the flowers on the table. “Oh, these are pretty.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

  “Jenny, who is it?” Dad called from the other room.

  This was a disaster. If Matt made it to the room Dad probably would never let him leave the house. I was on his heels in a matter of seconds.

  Fucking Ethan. How cool was it that Stallworth was in my house, and how uncool was it that I had to be pissed off about it?

  “You can’t go in there. He needs his rest.”

  Matt grinned at me like he saw right through my little plan. “I’m sure he can spare a couple minutes.” He patted me on the head like I was a child. “I hear he’s a big fan.”

  “I know you’re here for him.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said. I’m here to see your dad.”

  “Grr.” I stomped behind him.

  He was a few feet from the room when he stopped and turned around. “Will you just talk to the guy?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Why? Why should I, Matt? Do you know what happened?”

  “Yeah, you’ve got me there. I probably wouldn’t talk to him either. But I’m not as nice as you.” He waggled his eyebrows again like it was a big game.

  It was kind of cute in a way. I liked Matt, I really did. He seemed like a genuine, nice guy who cared about his friend. And yeah, maybe his friend had a lot of shit going on in his life and was dealing with stuff. But he should know better than anyone else that there are still repercussions for treating people the way he treated me. It was no excuse.

  “Please. It’s just better this way. For both of us.”

  Matt leaned down a little because he was a good foot taller than me. “Look, you don’t have to talk to him. But at least let him do something nice so he can at least say he tried to make it right.”

  “Jenny! Who is it?” Dad hollered.

  “I’ll be there—”

  “It’s Matt Stallworth, sir.” Matt chuckled at me.

  I frogged him on the arm.

  “Ow!” He rubbed his shoulder. “I have to play tonight. Shit. You punch like a man. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Ha! That’s rich. Jenny, tell that guy we don’t joke about shit like that around here.”

  I pointed a finger in Matt’s face. “You owe me for this.”

  He held up his hands. “Fine. Just don’t punch me again. Jesus.”

  “I’m serious. Your ass better go four for four with a home run and at least five RBIs.” I glared.

  “Good God, this fucking game again? I’m not Babe Ruth hitting home runs for a sick child.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Fine. I will try.” He walked through the door to Dad’s room before I could say anything else.

  “Well I’ll be goddamned,” Dad said.

  I followed Matt into the room, and it was impossible not to smile. Dad hit a button on his bed and started to move upright. He winced.

  Before I could react, Matt was at the side of the bed propping a pillow under Dad’s back.

  “What game you watching?” Matt asked.

  “The fucking Yankees.”

  I snort-laughed and covered my mouth. It was impossible to not get emotional the way Dad’s face lit up around Matt.

  “They’re a bunch of assholes. It’s true, sir.” Matt didn’t miss a beat.

  “Don’t you boys have a game soon? Why aren’t you on your way to the field?”

  “Well…” Matt turned to me and then back to Dad. “It’s kind of why I came by. I was going to see if you guys wanted to go to the game.”

  “Matt, there’s no way—”

  He cut me off. “Don’t worry, it’s all arranged. If you guys want to go, you’re there.”

  “Fuck yes, let’s go!” Dad moved a little and winced again.

  “Daddy, I’m sorry, but you can’t go to a baseball game.”

  Mat turned to me. “Sure he can. We have transportation, a place for you guys to watch in an air-conditioned suite. Medical staff. Food. Everything.”

  “It’s incredibly sweet, Matt. It really is, but—”

  “Well, I’m going.” Dad glanced over to me. “This is my last chance to go to a game, sweetie. Grab that bag of pain meds and let’s hit the fucking road.” He nodded up to his IV drip, then turned to Matt. “Let’s do it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Matt started toward the door.

  “And make sure you go zero for four with four strikeouts. You’re on her team.”

  “This fucking family takes fantasy baseball way too seriously,” Matt mumbled as he walked past me.

  I returned Dad’s smile. We sure did.

  —

  A medical van took us to the stadium and we rode a freight elevator up to the suite. Dad never left his hospital bed. Matt took his truck and left before us because he had to get ready for the game. They wheeled Dad through some double doors and over in front of some windows where he could see the field. I opened the door to the outside seats in front of us so that we could hear as well.

  “Matt Stallworth was in my house, Jenny.” He gripped my hand. “Best fucking player since Mickey Mantle. I’m telling you.”

  “Yeah, you’ve told me once or twice.” I grinned.

  We watched both teams warm up, and all the pregame stuff. It was almost time for the national anthem when the announcer started talking over the loudspeaker.

  We would like to honor a special fan this evening. He’s been a fan since the early seventies and was a thirty-year season ticket holder. Please help us pay tribute to Brian Jackson. Thank you for all the years of dedication to our boys, Brian.

  All of the air in my lungs left my body. When I saw the pure ela
tion on Dad’s face, and a tear rolling down his cheek as the stadium roared with cheers, I thought my heart might explode. He reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. I’d never seen him cry, ever.

  “D-did they just say my name? T-tell me this isn’t a dream, Jenny. T-tell me I’m still alive and you’re still here with me.”

  I covered my mouth and tried to fight back the tears. I’d never heard my father stutter. Not once in my entire life. He always knew what he was going to say before he said it.

  “Yeah, Dad. They sure did.”

  I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

  Fucking Ethan. He was playing dirty. I shook my head and couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Only one day in my life, Jenny. Just one tops this.” He leaned his head over and looked at me.

  I returned his stare. “What was it?”

  “The day I saw you for the first time.”

  The men in my life were relentless, both determined to turn me into a giant puddle on the ground.

  I wiped the corner of my eye.

  Chapter 24

  Ethan Mason

  It was the fifth inning and I couldn’t have told anyone the score. I sat there and watched Jenny and her father in the window from three suites over. They cheered and laughed and hugged.

  On two occasions I rose to walk over there and stopped along the way, only to return to where I currently sat. Something told me I’d ruin their day. Matt would’ve told me to stop being a pussy if he weren’t down on the field playing.

  The smell of stale beer and hot dogs, the cheers from the crowd, the crack when someone hit the ball—I loved the ballpark. Matt was already two for two with a home run and looked laser-focused on the field.

  After the fifth I stood, determined to make it over and talk to Jenny this time. I headed out into the hallway, a long corridor with doors to the suites all on the side that faced the field. It curved with the stadium as I strode three doors down from the one I’d been sitting in. It was a spare suite used for bringing prospects and negotiating at the games.

  I rested my forehead on one of the two doors and my hand moved to one of the handles. Nerves flooded my system. When I eased it open Jenny and her father appeared in my line of vision. She sat next to her dad’s hospital bed in front of the window. Her arm was propped up at an awkward angle, holding his hand. An empty chair was next to hers, practically inviting me to go sit down.

  I crept through the room and eased into the seat. Her eyes darted to me and then back to the game. Nothing in my life had ever made me as nervous as Jenny Jackson. I leaned over to whisper something. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but I’m sure it would’ve been something along the lines of an apology.

  Her hand slid over the top of my thigh—not in a sexy way, but in a way that gave me comfort. “Not right now,” she whispered, still looking straight ahead at the field.

  I’d seen her father glance down at me. I had to assume she hadn’t told him half of what I’d done or he’d be fighting his way out of the hospital bed trying to strangle me.

  The analyst in me deduced that she must’ve been protecting me. If she’d given up on whatever we were, she would’ve told him everything. I knew they were super close.

  We sat there for a few minutes, nothing but silence, and watched the game unfold before us. It was pretty damn perfect. The way baseball was sometimes meant to be. They announced Matt’s name and we watched him come to the plate.

  “Never seen him so focused.”

  Jenny’s dad was a keen observer, as was she. I could see a lot of her in him, even through his frail condition. Sizing people up at first glance was my forte, and Brian Jackson’s voice told me he was a tough bastard.

  “Better hope he gets me my points, Ethan. For both your sakes.” She looked straight ahead but a grin was trying to form at her words.

  “What the hell? Did you bribe him at the house?” Brian laughed.

  “What do you guys mean?” I was lost.

  “Ol’ J.J. there has Matt on her fantasy team. What did you do to that boy, Jenny?”

  “Just gave him a little motivation to play better.”

  Brian laughed. “Devil.”

  The pitcher went into his windup and released the ball. Matt crushed it. Jenny and I both sprang to our feet and Brian shook his head, grinning. The ball sailed a good twenty rows up in the left-field seats.

  “Holy shit, that had to have been four hundred fifty feet.” I watched a boy run and grab the ball, then shoot his hand up in the air holding it.

  “It was a good rip. I told J.J. that Matt is the best in the game since Mantle.”

  Jenny turned to me and shrugged. “We’re kind of Matt Stallworth fanboys.”

  “I see that.”

  “Oh, Dad, this is Ethan. I’m sorry, I forgot you two haven’t met.”

  I reached over and shook his hand. I knew it had to be painful for him, but he didn’t show it. “Jenny, can you get us something to drink?”

  “Sure, Daddy.” She leaned over to my ear and whispered, “He doesn’t know anything. And you’re not forgiven, yet.”

  Her words ran through me like a blade, reminding me of all the bullshit I’d put her through recently. But she’d added the “yet” on the end. That had to mean something, right? She hadn’t written me off completely.

  Once Jenny was out of the room, Brian turned his gaze back toward the field. “I know you hurt my daughter.”

  My head whipped around, but he didn’t look at me. I dropped my gaze to the ground. “She said you didn’t know.”

  He scoffed. “A parent always knows when their kid is in pain, son.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  He held up a hand and cut me off—where his strength came from I had no idea.

  “She doesn’t let many people in. She’s tough as nails. Part of that is my fault. I didn’t know what I was doing when her mother left. I know she can handle whatever life throws at her. But I want her happy. It’s all that matters to me, and I’m not going to be around much longer.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Beyond her tough exterior, she’s still my little girl.”

  “I may have screwed it up beyond repair.” I ran my hand through my hair.

  “If you’d fucked up that bad, she would’ve kicked your ass when you walked through the door. Trust me. It’s not her I’m worried about in that department.” He wheezed and laughed at the same time.

  He finally looked over at me. “Don’t hurt her again and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Jenny walked back in with a tray of drinks. I stood to help her. “Hey, Dad, I got something for you. Thought you might want a beer since we’re at the ballpark.”

  I took the tray and she went to help her dad take a drink from the plastic cup of beer. “This.” He looked out at the field. “This is perfect right here.”

  Watching someone do something they love for probably the last time puts a lot of things in perspective. I stared at Jenny next to her father, in her flip-flops and shorts and T-shirt. Did I want to spend the rest of my life feeling the way I did when I looked at her? I knew the answer before I asked myself the question.

  —

  I sat across the table from Jenny at Starbucks. We’d dropped Brian off at home with Kelsey a little while ago. Kelsey had glared at me when we did. I took it in stride; there wasn’t much else I could do.

  “I’m sorry, Jenny.”

  The smell of roasting coffee beans and the sounds of the espresso machine roaring and steaming had my senses on high alert.

  “The way you looked at me, spoke to me. I’m not gonna lie, Ethan. It did more than hurt.” She looked over at a couple of teenagers holding hands in the corner. “It killed me.”

  What could I say to her? Words couldn’t make up for what I did. “I know.”

  She bit her lip, not in the fun and sexy way either. “I can’t handle things like that right now. I ju
st—I have too much going on that needs my attention.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  She grinned sarcastically and shook her head. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “I fucked up, okay? I know that. And I went through the emails and it wasn’t your fault. I gave you the bad information.”

  “I should’ve asked you about it too. It’s not the fact that someone fucked up. You should have just asked me about it after. But you didn’t.” Her face tensed up, and her stare bore into me. “You left me standing at the airport. Do you know what that was like?”

  “I—”

  “I had to drive, by myself, over to my dying dad’s house and take care of him after that. I had to fight back tears. I couldn’t tell him about it because I didn’t want him to hate you, because he could be gone any minute and that would be the last thing he remembered about you.”

  I kept my stare trained on her face. As much as I wanted to look away, I deserved to be punished by every one of her words, and she deserved to get it all out.

  “You come into the office the next day and it’s the old you. The guy everyone is afraid of. The cocky asshole who does no wrong and berates everyone and everything. Would it have been so hard just to talk to me about it?”

  “No. It wouldn’t have.”

  She froze as if that wasn’t the answer she expected. “Why not talk to me then?”

  I shrugged. “Fear.”

  “Of what? Or are we not allowed to talk about that either?” She broke eye contact with me again.

  “My mom left when I was young. My dad had spent years building up his business. She wouldn’t agree to terms in the divorce that would allow him to keep the business. Wanted a payout and to be done with us. Start her life over or something. He sold it to a competitor to pay her off. They liquidated it and my dad worked in a cubicle and other odd jobs to support me, and to pay for everything I needed for my baseball career.”

  “That’s awful.” She covered her mouth. “The part about your mom. I’m sorry.”

  I sighed. “It is what it is.”

  “What does that have to do with your business though? You’re not him. Did you think I was your mother or something?”

  “God no. That wasn’t it.” I reached over and squeezed lightly on her forearm. “I was like that before you ever came to work there, remember?”