by Meghan Quinn
I press send and then open another email. “‘Dear representative,’” I read out loud while trying not to roll my eyes. “‘We’re in desperate need of assistance and would like to speak with one of your players about a monetary donation. Please advise who would be most giving. Thank you.’”
I’m chuckling to myself when I hear someone ask, “Do you normally read your emails out loud?”
Startled, I look up from my computer to find Roark McCool standing in my doorway.
Tall, dark, handsome, with an Irish accent and a killer look, he no doubt turns heads.
“Roark.” I stand from my desk and meet him halfway. I extend a hand and he takes it, giving me a firm handshake. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
“Had some meetings with clients. Thought I would pop on over and see how you’re doing. Last time we spoke, I was worried about you.”
“I’m doing . . . okay,” I say while leading him to the cozy seating area in my office. I cross my legs at my ankles and direct my body language toward him.
“‘Okay’ doesn’t sound all that great.” He makes sure the door’s shut behind him before he asks, “Have you been bumping into him a lot?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ve been able to avoid him up until a few days ago.”
“And let me guess, it shook you?”
“I mean, it wasn’t great.” I shrug. “But it is what it is.”
“I could tell something was up, because when I spoke with Walker yesterday, he was tense, slightly unfocused. I wondered if something happened between you two.”
“Nothing happened. We just saw each other.”
“Hell”—he shakes his head and laughs—“if that’s what happens when you two are just in the same room, I would hate to see what happens when you have to speak to each other.”
Over the last two months, Roark and I have exchanged emails using my personal account so nothing was tracked through the Bobbies IT system. It’s been nice to talk to him about everything, even though at first, I was apprehensive discussing a personal matter within a professional relationship, but Roark has been pretty cool about it. Not probing too much, just checking in.
“I’ll get over it.”
“Will you, though?” he asks. “It’s been over two months, Kate.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath. “I think once the season is over and I can collect myself, it’ll get better.”
“And what if it doesn’t?”
“Learn to live with pain. It’ll fade. Just might take some time.”
“And what if he’s traded at the end of the season?” Roark presses, causing my breath to escape my lungs.
“Is that a possibility?”
“Trades are always a possibility unless you’re someone like Knox Gentry or Carson Stone, a Bobbie for life. I like to think Walker has the same respect from the fans and front office, but he’s more on the conditional basis. Loved if he’s winning games and performing.”
“Which makes me sad, because he’s such a great guy.”
“He’s one of the best I know, even if he is grumpy at times.”
My heart feels sore just from the thought of our first interactions when he was the biggest grump I’d ever met and how it took a lot to get him to crack the smallest of smiles, or even talk to me, for that matter, but his affection was well-earned, and devastating to lose.
“How is he?” I ask, breaking a promise to myself that I would never inquire about him. But after seeing him, I’m desperate.
“Same as you. Okay. At least, that’s what he tells me. He’s occupied, grinding, and has tunnel vision right now, getting through the playoffs.”
“I figured as much. He seems really focused.”
“He is, but I also think that’s because if he gives himself a second to think, he’s going to think about you.”
“Has he said that?”
Roark shakes his head. “But I know him. I know how he works.”
I give him a soft smile. “Well, I guess this is all a pointless conversation because it’s not like anything will ever come of it.”
Roark shifts in his chair and leans forward while bringing his hands together. “What if I told you something could come of it?”
Swallowing hard, I ask, “Are you saying he could be traded? Because I’m pretty sure long-distance would be just as painful.”
Shaking his head, he says, “What if I told you I have a position open in my agency and I want you to take it?”
“Wh-what?” I ask, stunned. That’s the last thing I thought he’d say to me when he came into my office.
“I’m expanding to have another office here in Chicago since my clientele seems to be growing rapidly in the windy city. And now that I’m married to Sutton and we’re expecting—”
“You’re going to have a baby?”
His smile is pure joy when he says, “Yeah, I’m going to be a dad.”
“Roark, that’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thanks, but with the baby coming along in a few months, I’m not going to want to be traveling out here as much and I need someone to take care of business here. I want that someone to be you.”
My heart starts to beat rapidly in my chest. “But I don’t know anything about being an agent.”
“Don’t worry about the contract stuff and negotiations, I’ll be taking care of that. I need someone here to keep all the guys on track, to represent the agency in meetings, take phone calls, basically be the point person for all clients here. It’ll be a lot of work, but I know if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”
“You’re serious?” I ask, still stunned.
“Dead serious, and the great thing about working for me”—he smirks and leans back—“I don’t have a no fraternizing with the players policy.”
I swallow hard.
My mind whirling with what this means. With what could possibly happen.
With his knuckle, he knocks my knee and says, “You could be with him, Kate. He could be with you. This nonsense of denying the inevitable, what’s meant to be, could be over.”
“I . . . I don’t know,” I say. I’m completely thrown off, not expecting this at all.
“Tell me this. Do you still love him?”
I nod slowly.
“And do you love the work you’re doing here?” He motions to my computer. “Staying here late and reading begging emails out loud to yourself?”
“It’s not particularly appealing at the moment.”
He chuckles. “With me, you could do the fun things, like pick and choose what the guys do, go to their photo shoots with sponsored partners, be there during interviews and commercial shoots. This is next level, Kate, and I want you to do it. No one else. And if you happen to patch things up with Walker, well, that’s a bonus for everyone.”
“Wow, this is . . .” I blow out a long breath. “This is a lot to take in.”
“And I’ll pay you five times as much as what you make here.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my sockets. “F-five times?”
He chuckles. “Yes, Kate. Five times. The agency is growing fast and I want you to be a part of it.”
“So, this is real . . . like really real?”
He chuckles again. “It’s real, Kate. So, the only question is, will you take the deal?”
Chapter Sixty-Four
WALKER
“How was it?” Ryot asks as I get into the elevator of my apartment.
“It was great,” I answer, punching my number and then leaning against the wall.
“Really? Dude, look at you, you’re dating.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not dating.”
“Then what would you call tonight?”
“I would call tonight a mutual understanding between two people who are in love with other people.”
“What?” The sound of disappointment and then— “Wait . . . WHAT? You’re in love?”
I lean my head against the elevator wall as I travel up through my sky-rise building. “Yeah, I a
m, and I’m not about to talk about it with you, so don’t ask a goddamn question about her.”
“But . . . when . . . how? I’m so . . . why have you been holding out on me? Wait, is this with the girl you can’t have?”
“Yup.” I sigh.
“So why did you go on the date?”
“Because Jason begged me. The first thing I told her was that I was interested in someone else, and so was she. Jason thinks he’s a matchmaker, but he’s far from it, unless he wants to be a professional at matching people who are already in love with other individuals.”
“When you said it was great, were you being sarcastic?”
The elevator dings and I walk toward my apartment. “No, it was good. We helped each other see what we wanted. It was nice talking to someone who was going through the same thing. It was a good date,” I say, coming to an abrupt stop.
Sitting at the foot of my door, legs crossed, eyes wide, is Kate. She scrambles to her feet as I say into the phone, “Call you back.” And then I hang up and put my phone in my pocket.
“Kate, what are you doing here?”
“Sorry, this was—” She shakes her head. “This was stupid. I wasn’t thinking. I should go.”
“Wait.” I step in front of her path to exit. “Why are you here? Is everything okay?”
Her eyes search mine and she twists her hands together. “Everything is fine. I just . . . um, I think I was having a weak moment. It was stupid. Clearly, you’re occupied with other things.”
Are those tears welling in her eyes?
She slips past me and I call after her, “Kate, wait.”
She waves over her shoulder. “Sorry. Forget this happened. Have a good night.”
Because I just got off the elevator, it’s waiting for her when she presses the button.
“Kate.”
She gets on and the doors close before I can figure out what the hell just happened.
“What happened last night?” Ryot says, coming up to me in the weight room. “You never called me back. You know, it’s shit like that, that drives me crazy. Follow through, man.”
Still confused from last night, I lean back on my bench and grip the barbell above me. “Forgot.”
“Clearly,” Ryot says while spotting me.
I count out my reps and then rack the weight before sitting up and resting my hands between my legs. I take a breath, but I can feel the questions on Ryot’s tongue. I can feel his eyes searing me in my back.
“Who is she?” he finally asks.
“Not saying,” I answer just as Audrey walks into the weight room with Dempsey’s wife at her side.
“Hey, guys.” She waves. “Thought I would catch more of you in here, but it seems as if you’re the only two committed to bigger muscles.” We both chuckle, even though my laugh comes out flat. “You both know Amy Dempsey, right?”
“Yeah. Hey, Amy,” Ryot says.
“Well, she’s taking over for Kate and is ready to hit the ground running.”
“What?” I ask. “Kate’s no longer working here?”
Audrey shakes her head. “Unfortunately, no. We will miss her, though. But thankfully, she hooked us up with Amy and there will be a smooth transition, so no need to worry. I’ll be sure to email you all of her information, but since I was giving her a quick tour, I thought I’d introduce you. And don’t you worry, she understands the no fraternizing policy with the company, which means, things are strictly professional when she’s at work, so make sure you keep Dempsey on track.” Audrey winks.
“What about all the events we don’t want to do? Can we pass those off onto Dempsey? I mean, he can’t complain, you’re his wife,” Ryot says.
“I got your back.” Amy winks as I sit there, stunned.
Is that why Kate came over last night? To tell me that she was no longer working for the Bobbies? Was she fired? Did they find out about us? Did Penn fucking say something?
Fuck, so many unanswered questions and nothing I can ask Audrey.
“If you don’t have any other questions, I’m going to keep showing her around the facilities. Look out for my email.” They both wave and leave the locker room.
“Man, Penn is going to be upset,” Ryot says. “I think he was growing attached to Kate, and it seemed as if she was helping him straighten out.”
Ryot really is in the dark and I’m not about to tell him anything.
Taking a deep breath, I lie back on the bench and grip the bar, my hands slightly shaking from the news.
What the fuck am I going to do about it?
As I rep out, I know there’s only one thing to do . . . nothing.
Chapter Sixty-Five
KATE
“Kate, open up.”
I blow my runny nose and stand from my couch. My holey sweats hang off my hips and my oversized shirt has a large ice cream stain on it from when I dropped a spoonful about ten minutes ago as I was devouring a pint in record time.
My hair is a damn mess and I know yesterday’s mascara is streaked down my cheeks, but that doesn’t stop me from stumbling to the door. I open it and return to the couch, lying face down on the cushions.
Penn closes the door behind him and I hear the sound of a crinkling bag. Whatever he brought, I know I’ll eat it, because I’m at the point of eating my feelings. I’m eating them so hard right now.
“It smells in here,” Penn says while rolling me over and pushing my legs up. “And you look like shit. Is that ice cream on your shirt?”
“Cookie dough, to be exact,” I say.
On the coffee table, he places a takeout bag that smells a lot like a bakery item.
“Congrats on the win,” I say. “One more and you’re going to the World Series.”
“It was a good pitching day,” he says. “Felt like I found my rhythm for a second, and that’s all that matters. Helped that Walker hit a three-run shot.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “That helped a lot.” I can still see his face rounding third. Not a smirk, not even a hint of excitement. Instead, he stoically ran around the bases, head tilted down, and offered a simple fist bump to his teammates. His strong stature captured my attention, his dark eyes held me captive, and then when he took off his helmet and his forearms flexed as he removed his batting gloves, I buried my face in a pint of ice cream.
“So, care to inform me why you didn’t respond to my text?”
“Was percolating my response,” I answer.
“I asked how you were doing.”
“Yes, and I’m still trying to figure that out.”
He nudges my leg. “What’s going on? I thought you were excited to start working with Roark. And didn’t we talk about you going to see Walker? What happened to that?”
“I did go to see him.”
Penn frowns. “Did he turn you away?”
I shake my head as tears well up in my eyes again. God, when will this sorrow stop? When will this gut-wrenching pain end? I’m not sure I can take much more of it. “He wasn’t home when I got there, so I waited, only to see him return from a date.”
“A date?” Penn’s frown deepens. “Walker doesn’t date. Are you sure?”
“Yes. I heard him talking about it on his phone. And he was dressed up . . .” He looked so good. Handsome, rugged . . . sexy, especially with his hair styled. His cologne was divine too. God, he did that for another woman? Just the thought of it feels like a knife stabbed through my heart, but, then again, I have no right to feel that way. What’s he supposed to do? Wait around for something that’s never going to happen? Well, at least that he thought was never going to happen.
“What did you say to him?”
“Not much. I panicked and told him I was stupid for even showing up at his place. He tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t face him, not like that, not after he got home from a date. It was too humiliating.”
“So, you didn’t tell him?”
“No, of course not.” I shake my head. “What’s the point? He’s moved on.”
“Kate, you know I’m not a huge fan of the guy, but he told me, to my face, he loves you. You just don’t get over love like that.” He opens up the bag and pulls out a giant piece of cake.
I eye it. “Where did you get that?”
“Uh, some diner. I think it was called Eleven. I heard the guys talking about it.”
More tears form, and before they can fall, I bury my head in a throw pillow and let it all out.
“Good morning,” I say as Roark pops up on my computer.
“Mornin’,” he says, his Irish accent always heavier in the early hours. “How’s the new office?”
I glance around the empty space Roark rented in a bustling high-rise. “Uh, pretty desolate.”
He chuckles. “Furniture will be coming shortly. At least you have a computer and a desk. Did you get all the applications for your assistant position?”
“I did. I leafed through them and a few people really stood out. I’ll be making calls today for them to come in for interviews. Would you like to be a part of those?”
Roark shakes his head. “No, I trust you. I’ll have HR send over the benefits information in case anyone asks.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Did the company credit card come in?”
“Yes. Got it in the mail yesterday.”
“Perfect. Feel free to buy whatever you need for the office, and don’t skimp; that office represents the agency, so make sure it’s fully stocked with drinks, snacks, and looks presentable. Spend the money. Do you understand?”
“You know me too well. You know I wouldn’t spend anything.”
“I know you wouldn’t. That’s why I’m giving you three days to set things up and then you’ll walk me around the office and I’ll approve it or not.”
“Three days?” I say, my stress level gearing up.
“Yup, don’t worry. I have a truck full of memorabilia coming your way as well as signs to hang. You just need to make sure it looks good. That’s all for now.”
“Okay.” I write down a few notes.
“And then, of course, make up with Walker.”