Brandon leads them to our group and I unexpectedly begin to feel nauseous. Why am I so anxious? He’s still the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Nothing has changed. Has it?
Shasta and Betsy stand in front of Rod and Morgan, so I’m pretty well-hidden. Being petite does have its advantages.
I hear Shasta whisper to Betsy, “Is that our coach? He is H-O-T!”
Betsy whispers back, “He’s one of the local Sports guys on one of the News channels. I don’t watch the News much. He is cute.”
“I don’t watch the News, either. Is he single?”
“Oh, I doubt it. He’s not wearing a wedding ring, though.” He’d sooner wear a noose than one of those. “Maybe he’s with the blonde.”
I want to apprise both of them that he’s mine, but I say nothing. I can’t believe the people in my office are so unaware of whom I’ve been dating for the three years I’ve worked there. I don’t exactly hang out with most of my coworkers, aside from Rod and Morgan, and talk to Val, but damn. Are my coworkers in and out of the building that often or do I really not talk to them much? Since we have separate offices, I guess I don’t speak to Brandon, Gloria, Betsy, Amos, Shasta or Rhonda frequently unless it’s by email, phone or the small, kitchen run-ins. I can’t remember Gloria’s husband’s name, how many kids Betsy has or know the names of Shasta’s latest conquests. Is Amos really gay? Is Brandon still married? Is Rhonda dating anyone?
Maybe I’m more like Finn than I thought.
My stomach drops. I’ve been complaining that he keeps me a secret, but here I’ve been basically doing the same thing, albeit inadvertently. I can’t believe I’ve been such a bitch to him. He must hate me.
Brandon announces, “Everyone, this is our coach, Finn Wilder. I’ll let him tell you a little about himself and his assistant coaches.”
Finn claps his hands together while his eyes scour our small crowd, his gaze sliding back and forth, and widening ever so slightly. From between Shasta’s and Betsy’s arms, I notice his smile fade a notch. His eyes land on Rod and Morgan, but they don’t seem to answer his unasked question.
His deep voice sounds undecided. “I’m Finn Wilder. I’ve been asked by my friend Greg Rodwell to be your coach. I don’t know if any of you have seen me before, but I’m a local sportscaster and I have a Sports segment Fridays at six called The Wild Side. I played baseball in high school. I was the first baseman and I loved it. I love most sports, which makes it so easy to love my job.” He licks his bottom lip as he puts a hand on a hip, while mindlessly tapping the clipboard against his other, his eyes still perusing us. “What else can I tell you about myself? I love riding my dirt bike, I eat my steaks medium, I attended the University of Maryland’s Philip Merrill College of Journalism, I love the Yankees, both American and European soccer, and I’ve BASE jumped off of the New River Gorge Bridge more than 20 times during the Bridge Day festivals.” What the fuck? How many? “I’m so excited to have this opportunity to get involved in a community sport and be a part of a team again. I’m eager to meet all of you and to get started.”
Finn continues to skim his gaze over our faces as Ricky lazily grins and looks at all of us. “I’m Ricky Tesco. I’m a police officer for the Richmond Police Department and am a huge, huge Phillies fan. I also love to ride my dirt bike with my cohort.” He nods at Finn, but my boyfriend is staring off into space. “I’m a Capricorn and my blood type is AB neg. I enjoy rifle hunting. I love ketchup and pickles, but can’t stand tomatoes and cucumbers. Football and voting machines confound me, and I hate the smell of vanilla. And despite what Eddie Rabbitt says, I hate a rainy night, especially when I’m working.” He shakes his head and mutters, “That sucks.”
Rod shouts, “Damn, that’s true!” We all stare at him in confusion. Apparently, his secret hobby is prowling the streets after dark.
Cautiously chuckling, Ricky regards Rod with his ever-present, keen law enforcement observation, as if perhaps Rod is some kind of criminal, or more quite possibly, a freak of nature. Ricky offhandedly adds, “I can’t wait to get to know you and play some ball.”
Cara, who is whispering to my boyfriend, suddenly recognizes it’s her turn to talk and turns to us. “I’m Cara Downey. I’m an intern and work with Finn. I hope to be a news anchor someday after I graduate in a couple weeks. For now, I work in a small clothes store at the mall. I played third base in high school softball. I look forward to meeting you all.”
I can’t stop staring at her. She’s firm and…perky. Even more disturbing, she’s the woman who knocked at Finn’s door the other night. Did she make a move on him? She’s so pretty and so young. I glance at Finn, who is looking at us like he’s trying to solve an algebra equation without a calculator.
After Cara finishes talking, Finn snaps his attention away from his visual fixation. “We’d like to get to know all of you. Also, Brandon mentioned that he told you all about me wanting to tape practices and games throughout the season for my show and you all have agreed. I didn’t bring the crew today since I wanted to meet all of you first and get a feel for what positions everyone will play. At some point, I want to interview everyone on camera, have you introduce yourselves to the viewers; tell them a little about yourselves. We’ll have fun with it.” He’d interview me and really want me to introduce myself? How will that play out? “Okay, so I want to meet everyone. Let’s start over here. Tell me your name and something about yourself.”
Oh, no. What’s he doing?
Amos gruffly tells us about his motorcycle—really no surprise there—restoration hobby, his love for big game fishing, his collection of license plates, tattoos, and pocket knives, and confesses to an addiction to EBay and chocolate. What? No mention of Juan?
Rod must’ve also noticed because I hear him scoff in disbelief.
Gloria, who is a few years older than Val, has short, dark brown curly hair and wears large glasses, divulges her fear of dogs and butterflies; her love for horses, Twinkies, her homemade Afghan blankets and her 10 grandchildren. I’m not sure if that’s in any particular order.
Rhonda, who is 29, looks rather nervous to participate. She’s a receptionist. Isn’t she supposed to be a natural people person? I imagine some of her apprehension is probably due to Rod, since she keeps glancing in his direction. She admits her favorite show is Days of Our Lives. She loves country music, her favorite book is Little Women, favorite movie is Hope Floats, she’s deathly afraid of spiders, and she’d do anything to meet Sandra Bullock.
Val announces she also loves country music, but prefers the older music, not the newer-sounding pop country. She loves the outdoors, spending time with her family and friends, likes to read trashy novels, and shop for antique furniture with her husband, Paul.
Betsy, in her early 50’s with a blonde bob, reveals she’s a major bookworm, is allergic to paprika, is a hardcore classic rock fan, loves to garden, make candles, hates folding clothes and people who try to sneak too many things through the express lane. She also enjoys looking for yard sales while walking her three schnauzers, Jimmy, Peter and Stevie Ray.
Sylvie states that she loves baking, exercising, football, but hates cleaning up her messes, yoga, and golf. She doesn’t watch much TV, except for The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. She also says she married her best friend, Johnny, three months ago after dating for a year.
From my hiding place, I angle my head so I can see Finn. His sunglasses are once more shrouding his eyes above a small, polite smile. Though it appears he’s looking at Sylvie as she talks, I can’t really discern where his gaze actually is. Is he looking for me or does he hope I’m not here?
Grant discloses his mom is deaf, but she refuses to let that hold her back in life. She endlessly volunteers for numerous charities and mentors hearing-impaired kids. His dad is a retired police officer, which makes Ricky brightly grin as he leans against the chain link with his arms crossed. Grant claims to have seen every one of Al Pachino’s movies a hundred times each, loves all kinds of
music, but has a special place in his heart for the 80’s. He also loves to read Stephen King books.
All eyes fall to Crick and he precipitously turns red. He nervously informs us that he’s new to Virginia, having moved here from Tennessee recently. He’s into sci-fi books, movies and TV shows. He competed on Jeopardy during a College Week and lasted four days. To relax, he enjoys doing crossword puzzles, brainteasers and Sudoku. He’s probably one of those people who like to balance his checkbook or do his taxes for kicks.
Finn patiently waits for the next person to introduce their self, yet I still can’t see where he’s looking. Shasta straightens in front of me and confesses that she loves gymnastics and has been doing it since she was a little girl. She currently teaches a class for young girls twice a week. Is she serious? Finn’s paltry smile crooks up slightly and I see Shasta faintly bounce in front of me. She thinks he’s encouraging her? She imparts that she also loves all sports and gushes about how she is a huge fan of his. Huh? She just asked Betsy who he was! What a bitch! I want to inform her that I’m his biggest and favorite Finnatic. Regardless, how can I compete with her? I already have Cara to contend with. Finn’s going to drop me faster than he can take his pants off.
Morgan looks around and sees that the three of us are left. “I’m Morgan Yates, soon-to-be-Kammer. I’m getting married June 18th and I’m pregnant, so I won’t be playing, but I can supply water, Gatorade, cyanide, or keep score like a bitch on wheels. I love singing, shopping, walking on the beach, eating peanut butter and vanilla ice cream out of the carton, and my favorite shows are Castle, Parks and Recreation, Golden Girls, House Hunters, and American Idol. I could smell carnations all day long, and I met both my best friend and my arch nemesis at the firm.”
Finn appears to be stoically listening to Morgan as if she’s reciting stock options for a failing company. When she’s finished, he looks down at his clipboard, seemingly checking off names of the people on his roster. Didn’t he even like Morgan’s last comment?
Maybe he doesn’t like her BFF anymore.
In front of me Rod complains, “Jesus, Morbid. I thought you’d never shut the hell up.” Betsy and Shasta laugh while Morgan frowns and flips off Rod, which he returns with his own middle finger, causing Val to clear her throat. Crossing his arms, Rod petulantly announces, “I’m Greg, but Cara and Ricky, you, too, might as well call me Rod since everyone else here unfortunately does. I love all kinds of music and have over 2,000 songs on my iPod, so if anyone here needs music, I’m your man.” Morgan spits out a loud laugh, which makes me giggle against the back of my hand, trying not to get carried away. He continues, “I love so many things in life, but some of my favorites are people watching, dancing in clubs, making those I care about laugh, and spending time with my closest friends, even if it’s shopping. Also, I wholeheartedly love the feel of crisp, new bed sheets.” I huffily shake my head when he glances over his shoulder and down at me with a dippy grin.
Everyone looks from Rod to Finn, who suddenly stands straighter and consults his clipboard as if he really doesn’t know only I’m left. What about Brandon? Doesn’t Finn want to hear that Brandon enjoys sleeping with his decades-younger paralegal?
Ricky swiftly glances around, dodging his head and I duck, like I have a prayer of actually avoiding this situation. Morgan and Rod don’t say anything and I’m grateful for the moment to pointlessly gather what I’m going to say.
“All we have left is Ms. Beckett,” Finn broadcasts to his clipboard, trying to sound indifferent and neutral, but his voice subtly cracks on my last name. I flinch since Shane, too, refers to me as Ms. Beckett. Is Finn not going to call me Becks? He won’t even call me Hadley? Shit. Maybe that’s not a good thing for him to do, either.
My coworkers mumble and look around for me as Finn slides his head left to right, scanning us.
Betsy laughs. “She’s right here! I think she’s hiding.” She steps aside and pulls me through Rod and Morgan to stand in front of her, and I’m suddenly a small child being dragged out of a toy store. I first peer at Ricky, his dimples prominently showcasing his familiar, warm smile and his panty-dropping stare. I’m not blind. He shifts his weight and glances over at Finn, but I don’t look his way. I do fleetingly look to Cara, who doesn’t seem to realize who I am and for some reason, she doesn’t seem to be the type to care what our names are anyway. I think she’s only here for one reason: Finn Wilder. She has to know that he does have a girlfriend since his tattoo dare. Did Finn even tell her that he’s coaching his girlfriend’s team?
Hearing movement behind me, I look to see Rod. I just might need backup.
I return my gaze to our coaches and hesitantly look to Finn. His lips are sliding against each other and he’s anxiously flicking his fingers of his free hand. What is he thinking? Does he want me to leave? Does he want to leave? Does he want us to leave together?
What do I say? Everybody here knows me, except for Cara. Do I really have to do this?
Rod radically sighs, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I’ll do it! This chick loves to paint her nails pretty, dark colors because that’s the only way she feels she can express herself that won’t draw too much attention. She likes wearing her hair in a ponytail due to the fact she thinks she looks gross with it down. She eats strawberry yogurt nearly every day at lunch, and she loves collecting shells on the beach. She went to college to become a crime scene investigator, but it didn’t work out, so now she’s gracing us with her presence. Her favorite color is royal blue, favorite food is pepperoni and cheese pizza, and she loves to get her freak on dancing. The only jewelry she wears on a daily basis is her key necklace and her bluish ring here.” He lifts my hand and drops it. “Her favorite children’s book is ‘Butterball’ because her dad used to read it to her, and she’s only been in love once.” I blink in astonishment at everything Rod just revealed about me. I didn’t realize I’m an open book. Damn, Rod!
Anxiously playing with my ring, I tentatively glide my eyes to Finn, but again, he’s not revealing his soul from behind his sunglasses. No wonder he put them back on. Nevertheless, his Adam’s apple is bobbing and his mouth is slightly agape. Is he mad?
Leaving a hand on my shoulder, Rod shifts to my side. “Yep. She’s totally in love with me and will be carrying my baby as soon as she lets me kiss her.” I jerk away from him as he crazily giggles. Automatically looking to Finn, I see his teeth are clamped tight from the way his jaw is surging underneath his light beard. I hope he doesn’t think I told anyone about what we did last weekend. I only told Rod about Finn wanting me to go on the Pill. I didn’t tell him any more than that. Finn will be the first to know if I’m pregnant, but the last one to ever be happy about it.
Betsy gasps and points to Rod and me. “Wait. Are you two really a couple? I didn’t know that!”
Rod puts his arm back around me and roughly pulls me to him, laughing incredulously at Betsy’s own doubt. “What? We don’t look great together? We’re like two balls in a sack.” While Betsy replies to Rod’s ridiculousness, I look from the corner of my eye to see Finn staring hard at us, evidently waiting for an actual confirmation from me that Rod and I are a couple.
Evading Rod, I wriggle out of his hold again. I don’t need Finn hating me even more. “Rod,” I warn with a glare.
“I’m kidding!” Rod laughs, as do most of our coworkers. “We don’t have to kiss first!”
I cross my arms and stare at the ground, not knowing what to do. Should I tell everyone who my real boyfriend is since he’s standing 20 feet from me, or do I keep my mouth shut and pine for him from a distance? I desperately want to wrap my arm around his and lean my head on his bicep. I need to hold his hand, give him a kiss on the cheek or put my arms around his waist from behind him, feeling his muscles beneath his T-shirt while resting my cheek against his back, inhaling his scent.
I can’t do this anymore. I miss him so much.
Before I forfeit and walk over to him, Finn clears his throat, switching his focus
. “Okay. I’m going to pass out softballs. Since there is an even number of you playing, I want you to pair off and try tossing a ball for 15 minutes. Ricky, Cara and I will be assessing how you each throw and catch to determine what position might fit you best. After that, I’ll have you each try your skills at bat. We only have three weeks until our first game, so we’ll need to practice for a couple hours on Saturdays and Sundays. Got it?” Heads bob in agreement and he turns to drag the bag closer so the balls can be passed out. Morgan follows our coworkers, refusing to be left out of anything at the risk of making her look stupid in front of Rod.
As our coworkers gather around Finn, Rod bumps my arm. “I guess we’re partners. Let’s go grab one of Wilder’s balls.” He titters and I pivot, shoving my hand against his chest.
“I told you not to egg him on!”
He steps away from me and puts his hands out. “Shit! I know! I’m sorry! When I mentioned that you’ve only been in love once, it looked like that bothered him and he was going to say something. I wasn’t sure if you wanted him to, so I—”
I cut him off with a shake of my head and glance back to the small crowd. “I need to talk to him.”
As I turn, Rod reaches for my arm and stops me. Lowering his voice, he says, “No, Hadders. You’ll only make it worse.”
“I want to say hi to him.”
“You know it won’t stop there. Next thing, you’ll want to give him a hug, then just a little kiss. After that, you won’t get your time to ‘reprioritize’ because you’ll fall right into bed with him. Later after the great sex, you’ll be mad you didn’t get the time from him you asked for. So, you’ll again tell him you need it and that’ll inevitably hurt him. You can’t keep doing that to Wilder, Hadley. He’ll assume you’re jerking him around and that’s not good, given that he’s been drinking to drown his sorrows.”
Igniting the Wild Sparks Page 2