“Dude!” Davenport says when I reach him.
“What?” I ask, feigning indifference, but on the inside I’m busting with excitement. What I’m feeling isn’t foreign. I’ve liked women before, even dated a few in college, but never did I have the physical urge to stare at someone, to memorize them before they faded away. Something must be wrong with me.
“You were eye-fucking her like there’s no tomorrow.”
My brows furrow at his comment, and he looks at me oddly.
“Are you a bat boy?” he asks, whispering in my ear.
“What?” I choke out. “You know I play center field.”
He shakes his head. “You know,” Davenport says, waggling his eyebrows and pointing down to his crotch. Did he really ask if I was a bat boy?
I shake my head. “No, man, that ship sailed back in high school.”
Davenport wipes his forehead and lets out an exaggerated “phew” before glancing over in the direction where Ms. Ainsley Burke is standing. She’s talking to some other woman, a teacher maybe, and when she looks in my direction, she smiles.
“Well, I think she wants your juice packer.” A hand is slammed down on my shoulder as Kidd steps next to me. Davenport starts laughing while I try to contain myself.
“What did you say?”
Kidd shrugs and continues to look at Ainsley. “You know, your cooch lover. She wants to ride the jerk boner. Just don’t do her in the cheap seats,” he says, patting me on the shoulder before whistling at someone to get their attention.
“What the hell did he just say?”
Ethan shakes his head. “The one thing you need to learn about Travis is that he has this whole array of slang words for everything sexual. Cheap seats means having sex on the floor.”
“Ah,” I say, pretending to understand. “And bat boy?”
“Virgin, man. And if you are, don’t you dare let Kidd find out. You’ll never live it down, and you’ll become his new favorite hobby.”
Before I can respond, the kids start filing in. I’m sure they were told not to run, but you can see them speed-walking to get to their player. Davenport and I are with three girls and two boys who all seem very excited to be here. I was excited, until we had to leave and I could no longer openly gawk at Ainsley.
Chapter 4
Ainsley
The sound of loud cheering has me peering out my window. The charter bus carrying the Boston Renegades has pulled to a stop and the players are stepping off, much to the delight of the children waiting to meet them. Looking back into the mirror, my eyes roam over my ragged look, and I try to bring some life to my cheeks by pinching them. With my blond hair in a ponytail and a very light dusting of makeup, this is as good as it’s going to get for me today.
And today, of all days, is media day with the Renegades. I knew this at two in the morning when I raced back to work to watch a miracle unfold. I couldn’t leave, though, not once I caught sight of the calf. Even though I enjoy my job now as the zoo’s event and staff coordinator, I miss working with the giraffes every day, and watching the birth of our newest member really hit home. However, I have no doubt in my mind that this event today will be just as joyous. I can only imagine how fun it’s going to be, watching the children’s faces when they meet their favorite athlete. Probably much like mine when Jambo gave birth in the early hours of the morning.
When I contacted the Renegades general manager, Ryan Stone, with my idea, I thought he would hang up on me. Instead, he loved it and promised that the team would be at the zoo. He went on to say that it’s important for the team not only to give back to the community at home, but also the community they call home for their preseason. I couldn’t agree more.
Peeking out my window again, I watch the players move down the line, stopping and shaking hands with each and every kid, likely making this a dream come true for some of them.
I grab my radio, exit my office, and step out into the blazing sun. It’s unseasonably warm for March, making me hope this isn’t a sign of things to come. I’d rather not experience a scorching summer this year.
“This was a great idea, Ainsley,” Bruce says through a yawn.
“You should’ve gone home. I could’ve found someone to fill in for you.”
“Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “I want to be there when they see the calf through the window.”
Me too.
“It’s good that they agreed to this. I know it was a risk asking, but the Renegades are so popular I thought everyone involved could benefit from this event.”
“Did you think they would tell you no?”
I shrug, not really knowing the ins and outs of what professional teams or athletes normally do. Sure, I read things on the Web about money being donated or an athlete paying special attention to a child who is battling an illness, but to take a day off from training to spend at the zoo is probably, at least in my opinion, unheard of. In what research I could do, I didn’t find any reports or documentation that this sort of event had been done before. Golf games, bowling, and the like are done all the time, and I honestly didn’t think my idea stood a chance. Thankfully, the Renegades had no qualms about proving me wrong.
“Most of the players come from nothing, so they’re making sure the communities who support them are taken care of. They want to make sure that kids have the same opportunities to succeed,” Bruce says, opening my eyes to a different side of athletes.
“That makes sense,” I say as I stand next to him, watching the players interact with the kids. Autographs are signed, and teachers are taking pictures, and even a few of the players are snapping their own shots. It’s nice that they’re not on a time limit, but I’m antsy and want to get this event started. The nerves are starting to set in, and I want to make sure everything is perfect.
A few of the players make their way into the zoo, shaking hands with the staff as they pass by. I hear my name in the distance and turn to find an older gentleman walking toward me.
“Are you Ainsley Burke?”
“I am. Are you Cal Diamond? Mr. Stone said you’d be my point of contact today,” I reply as we shake hands.
“Thank you for having us.”
“It’s my pleasure.” We step off to the side and go over the plan of action for the day; he reiterates what I agreed to with Stone.
“I want to make sure the focus is on the children and not the end result with the media,” I tell Cal, who nods in agreement.
“Of course, that is why we’re here. Honestly, the guys could care less about the media today. They’re excited to be here and away from training.”
“That’s good to hear. We’re excited to be hosting them and especially for the children. They seemed very excited out in the parking lot.”
We exchange cell phone numbers, in case either of us needs to get in touch with the other, and I remind him that I always have my radio with me, and any one of the staff members can get in touch with me if I’m needed.
Today is going to be different from any other day. For one, the zoo is closed to the public. Two, everything is free, including one souvenir of each child’s choice. Three, we’re going to make sure the animals are outside for the children’s arrival so they can have optimum viewing pleasure. Hearing their laughter, seeing their faces light up when an animal, particular a giraffe, comes near, is worth the extra work we’re putting in today.
I stand at the entrance of the zoo, looking over the courtyard where everyone is gathering. The players are mingling with a few of the staff, taking pictures and chatting about who knows what. A sense of pride washes over me as I see so many happy faces. It’s important to me that today goes off without any issues and that it’s a success. I radio the different exhibits to make sure they’re ready, and all are eager to let the kids in.
The Boston Renegades will be the kids’ tour guides. The best way to handle this was to leave the responsibility up to the teachers about who their students went with. It’s honestly something I wouldn’t have be
en able to do, considering I don’t know any of the players. Well, except for one.
There was one that caught my eye when I was perusing the roster that was sent over by the organization. It was the way he looked at the camera for his photo, not cocky but self-assured. I found myself looking him up online, trying to figure out what my attraction was, and found very little. If he has a girlfriend, there’s no mention of her. If he’s been in trouble with the law, it’s not been stated. He seems to be a squeaky clean rookie, who was, by all accounts, a superstar in the minor leagues.
And while my interest is piqued, I remind myself that I don’t date athletes. I tried that once, and the failure was so epic that it’s something I’ll never forget.
“Bailey!”
His name is yelled, and it makes it easy to follow him. Our eyes meet, and even though I pretend I’m looking elsewhere now, he somehow knows I’m still staring at him. And if he didn’t, then he does now, because my cheeks are on fire and the only thing I can do to quell my embarrassment is run my hand over my ponytail in hopes that my arm is shielding me from him, but that doesn’t work because I smile automatically at the thought that he is watching me.
As much as I want to turn away, I don’t. I take in the way he interacts with his teammates, the laughing and carrying on, and wonder what it’s like to be so free. I haven’t laughed in months, not since my mother first got sick, and the most joy I have felt in a long time happened this morning.
I give the signal, and the gates open. The kids move in an orderly fashion, but even I can see they’re trying to get to their assigned player. Their chatter is refreshing as they tell their friends how excited they are, and the teachers seem relieved that they’re getting a break, more or less.
“Excuse me?”
I feel a small tug on arm and look to find a little girl smiling back at me.
“Hi, what can do for you?” I ask, bending down so I’m at her eye level.
“Do you know if Jambo had her baby yet?”
I can’t help but smile and nod my head excitedly. “She did, earlier this morning. And Zookeeper Bruce is so excited to for you all to see, but remember, don’t tap or bang on the glass because you’ll scare Jambo and the baby.”
“I won’t,” she says, running off to meet with her group.
Standing back up, the groups gather and are ready to start their day. With one quick look around at all the smiles, I remind myself that I did this. I brought these groups together.
“Remember to use your maps today, and don’t forget to refill your water bottles along the pathway. Be mindful of the critters that you’ll meet during your journey, and pay special attention to any of the staff you see standing around; they might have someone special with them. And please make sure to visit the giraffes. Not only will you be able to feed them, but you’ll see Jambo’s new baby,” I proudly tell them. The last part is met with a loud cheer, and not only from the children. “The gates are officially open. Have fun!”
The groups start to move away slowly, and I once again find myself watching for one in particular. When he looks over his shoulder, I pretend I’m paying attention to everyone and not just him, but I think he sees right through me. From afar, I can gawk, maybe even fantasize when I’m feeling up to it, but the reality is that nothing will ever come of this. He’s not my type. And he already has two strikes against him—forgive the pun, but it’s true. He’s a baseball player, and they’re nothing but trouble.
Chapter 5
Cooper
I am likely going to hell when I die. I don’t know how long it’s been since Davenport and I took our small group away from the entrance, the place where I fell under the spell of Ainsley Burke, but every few minutes I’m looking over my shoulder to see if she’s checking up on us.
And the reason I’m going to hell is because I’m secretly hoping one of our students hurts themselves and I have to rush them to the office for first aid. These thoughts make me a shitty human being.
Or our small group could easily become a band of misfits and troublemakers, giving her an excuse to come check on us and to make sure we don’t need anything. Forget the fact that my group is pretty awesome and the kids seem to be excited, so it’s not like we’re drawing attention to ourselves. At this rate, I’ll be lucky to see her at all.
“Stop looking for her,” Davenport says.
I shake my head, scoffing at him. “I’m checking out the surroundings. I’ve never been here before. What if there’s a flying monkey or something waiting to attack?”
The kids laugh, and one little girl steps a bit closer to me and smiles. Her toothless grin and big brown eyes remind me of why I’m here, to make sure these kids have a good time. I shouldn’t be worrying about whether Ms. Burke is going to come check on us or even seek me out. If she’s someone I want to know, I’m going to have to be the one to make the move.
I fall in step behind the little girl as we move to the next exhibit. Walking at the zoo is a massive workout for these kids and their little legs. The terrain is such that you’re always climbing or descending a hill, giving your legs ample exercise. Renegades management is smart, having us do this. Today may be our day off from conditioning, but we’re still getting some cardio training in.
When we reach the monkeys, Davenport yells about something overhead, and I go scrambling. The kids laugh, making fun of me as I take cover under a tree. I laugh, letting them know that I’m only joking and chase after a few of them as I act like one of those beasts from The Wizard of Oz.
By the time lunch rolls around, I’m exhausted, as most of the guys are. We’re dragging our tails into the cafeteria to sit on hard plastic chairs and eat fried foods. The teacher for our group comes around, asking if any of the kids would like to switch players. The boys raise their hands, and I don’t blame them. There are better, more seasoned players than Ethan and me, but the girls stay. My little friend from earlier hasn’t left my side, and has kept pace with me since she smiled at me.
She taps me on the arm and points. I follow her direction to find Ainsley talking to one of the teachers. She makes quick eye contact and smiles before continuing her conversation.
“That’s great, you have one of our charges being a lookout for you.”
I throw one of my fries at Ethan, only to hear the words “food fight” being muttered by a few of the boys at our table.
“No food fight,” I tell them, trying to calm them down. “Davenport wanted some of my fries is all.”
The young boys look at me like I’m crazy. I am. The last thing I want to do is start a food fight on a field trip. Somehow I don’t think our GM would be appreciative of my actions.
“My dad says you’ll never start over Bainbridge,” the lad next to me says as he stuffs his mouth. I glance down at him and realize I could take him if push came to shove.
“Who does your dad play for?”
The boy pauses mid-food shove and shakes his head. “He doesn’t play baseball. He works in an office.”
“I see. And you believe him?”
He shrugs. “Sure, why not?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking. What do you think? Have you seen me play before?”
He shakes his head.
“Has your father?”
He shakes his head again.
“So you and your father haven’t seen me play, but both feel like I’m not good enough to start over Bainbridge?”
Davenport kicks me under the table, and I glare at him. I’m not pissed at the kid, but at the father for saying crap like this. How does the father know I can’t start over Bainbridge if he’s never seen me play? Clearly, if you’re looking at my stats from last year, I’m far better on paper than Bainbridge.
“Don’t forget you’re allowed to make up your own mind. Maybe you can come to a spring training game and watch. Then you can form your own opinion.”
“Yeah, maybe. I’ll ask, but my parents usually say no.”
It dawns on me that a
lot of these kids aren’t from middle-class families. Most receive state aid and supplemental income.
“Tell you what, if you want to come to a game, you give me a call, and Steve and I will set some tickets aside for you.”
His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning, and he wraps his arms around my midsection, pinning my arms to my side.
“Thanks. I’ll tell him.”
I hand the boy a card with my agent’s number on it. “Just call this number if you want to go. He’ll be expecting your call.”
As soon as lunch is over, we’re back to walking. The last half of the zoo seems to go a bit faster than the first, and the kids are all dragging behind by the time we reach the entrance again. They’re going to sleep the whole way back to their school, that’s for sure.
My new friend, also known as my lookout, gives me a hug and thanks me for being her walking partner. As she heads toward her teacher, I realize I should’ve thanked her for being my eyes today. We could’ve been partners in crime if we’d had more time together.
When the kids line up with each of their schools, it’s time for a photo op. The media is escorted into the zoo, and the cameras start going off. The sound is annoying, but one I’ll have to get used to. We assemble around the kids and take an array of photos with each class. Afterward, the staff gets their chance.
“You should stand by her, put your arm on her shoulder,” Davenport whispers into my ear as he motions toward Ainsley. I like his idea and maneuver my way toward her. She sees me, and from where I’m standing, I think she smiles. There’s a soft glow to her skin, and I find myself wanting to reach out and touch her cheek. It’s dimpled and leaves me wondering how I can make her smile just so I can see it. Her nose is small, yet it’s perfect for her face. I like that she’s not covered in eye makeup, and I can see the fine lines that come with laughing too much. Standing this close to her, my heart starts beating faster, and my palms are sweating—of course it’s eighty degrees out—but it’s the thickness of my tongue that has me speechless and swallowing hard when she runs her hand over her reddish blond ponytail, moving her hair to the side as if she’s giving me a clearer view of her. She hasn’t stopped smiling since I’ve been standing here, and while she could be getting ready for the photo, part of me is also hoping it’s because I’m next to her, and that’s what I’m going with because it makes me feel good about myself.
Home Run Page 3