“Hong Kong,” he said, sounding almost as though he’d never heard of the place. “How long have you had this offer?”
“Since Monday.”
“Two days? And you didn’t tell me?” He straightened, shifting his bad hand restlessly. “Wait. International job offers don’t just happen out of the blue, do they? Did you know this was a possibility?”
She wasn’t going to lie to him. She could give him that much. “It’s always been a possibility. It’s why I chose Pullman. I’ve always wanted to travel. I told you that. But there wasn’t any indication that it was going to happen anytime soon. Then, about a week ago I heard rumors of a new big project.”
“A week? You said nothing.”
“It was the divisional series. You had other things to worry about and it was just a rumor. There’ve been rumors before. Nothing ever came of them.”
“Yet two days ago it wasn’t a rumor and you still didn’t say anything. I thought you were quiet because of Finn. But it was because of this?” He was pacing now. Moving. As if movement could ward off bad news or something.
“I—” Her voice caught on the last word. She swallowed hard. Her head was pounding, her mouth dry. It was almost too much, coming after the night at the hospital. But she wasn’t going to cry. Not now. If she cried, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Wouldn’t be able to explain. She needed to explain. “I didn’t say anything because I hadn’t made up my mind.”
He stilled. “And have you now?”
“I don’t know.” She stared at him. “This is my dream, Oliver. The thing I’ve always wanted. You understand going after a dream.”
“What about us?”
She wished there wasn’t a counter between them. It felt like a continent. She wanted to touch him. To see if that would help. Trouble was, if she touched him, she wouldn’t be able to think. “We’re so new,” she said. “Oliver, don’t you see that?”
“You said you loved me. The other night. I heard.”
She lost her breath. He had heard. “You didn’t say it back.”
“You didn’t mention it again.”
“Because it’s crazy,” she said. “This thing between us. It’s crazy. Tell me you don’t think that?”
“It’s been crazy,” he agreed. “Maybe crazy is what we both need. Maybe crazy should tell us something.”
“Does that mean you want me to stay?”
“Of course I want you to stay.” He was practically shouting.
God. She hadn’t expected hearing him say it to hurt so much. To tear at her. She braced herself on the counter, dipped her head. Tried to think through the throbbing headache and the anger at Em and the soul-sucking fear of losing Oliver. Think about what she wanted.
For once.
“I can’t do this based on what you want,” she said. Her voice sounded odd. Distant. She lifted her head. “I have to do this for me. Choose for me. I’ve done what other people have wanted my whole life. Be a good girl. Get good grades. Go to college. Stay between the lines. Because my mom was terrified I was going to screw up and end up like her. I think she encouraged me to get so close to the Castros at first because she felt guilty I didn’t have a dad. And I’ve always been so grateful to them for everything that I’ve tried to pay them back. Been there for Em. Been there for Finn. Been there for everyone. That’s exhausting, Oliver. If I’d done what I’d wanted, I’d be working overseas right now. But I wanted to make sure my mom was taken care of. That everyone is taken care of. And now I’m taking care of you, too. I want to be with you. But I can’t stay for you.” She stared at him. “Can’t you see that? You’ve chased the thing you’ve always wanted your whole life. Would you have given up a slot at the Saints because of a relationship after not even three weeks?”
His expression went stony. “That sounds like you’ve made up your mind to me.”
She knew it was true. Knew it as she’d been saying the words. “It’s not forever,” she said. “People do long distance.”
“Do they? After three weeks? When one of them thinks of the other as just something to be taken care of?” He stepped back, shaking his head. “No. I think better to stop now. Before we really fuck each other up.” He stared at her for a long moment, face twisting. “So I think I should go now. Let you get on with this dream of yours. You’re right. I understand it. And I think you should go for it.” He came to her then, bent down. Kissed her one last time like he was drowning. Then pulled away. Straightened. Moved back. “I hope it works out, Amelia. For you. But I want you to know something.”
She was going to break into pieces. Shatter where she stood if she breathed the wrong way or moved the wrong way or spoke the wrong words. He was leaving. She was getting the thing she wanted. But she was losing Oliver.
“What?” she managed to say. Rasped the word over a throat turned acid.
Oliver’s eyes were fathoms deep. Fathoms cold. Not a pirate anymore. Maybe a shipwreck. Broken and sinking. “I was starting to think you were the thing I’d always wanted,” he said. And then he was gone.
Chapter Eighteen
Somehow she made it into work. Showered, changed, pasted on a nothing’s-wrong face, and arrived before nine. Still late by Pullman standards, but there. She went to her office, turned on her computer, and then sat staring at the screen. Still hearing Oliver’s words in her head. The thing he’d always wanted.
God.
She pressed her hands into her temples, trying to think. It was simple really. Stay and keep Oliver. Maybe. If she could convince him to give her another chance after this morning.
Or go. Keep her dream and leave him behind.
And as much as the thought of not having Oliver was killing her, she knew that if she didn’t go, if she didn’t do this now, then maybe she never would. If she stayed, maybe her world would shrink like her mom’s had. She’d be stuck in the playing-it-safe zone. Everything focused on not making another mistake. On minimizing risk. On avoiding another loss and not upsetting anyone. Amelia had been playing along with that mind-set for too long. She couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t the way the world worked, was it? There would always be pain. So she could have the life she wanted, mess and pain and all, or stay small and get hurt anyway. No. She couldn’t be that person.
If that was the person Oliver wanted then she couldn’t have him, either. She didn’t want to mold and shift herself to suit yet another person.
She was going. She’d stand on her own two feet and leave Em and Finn to stand on theirs. And let Oliver find someone content to follow a baseball player and stand on the sidelines.
She shoved her chair back. Stood. Headed to Daniel’s office before she could change her mind.
Daniel was there, which helped. No chance of changing her mind. He looked up as she breezed past his PA and through his door.
“Amelia,” he said, coming to his feet. “Something I can do for you?”
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t say it, not just yet.
He frowned. “Is everything all right? Your message said you had an emergency? Is it something serious?”
She shook her head, straightened. Found the nerve hiding deep in her gut, under the pain and the loss. “No. Not serious. Taken care of. I just came to tell you that yes, I want to go to Hong Kong. I can leave whenever they need me to. I have a résumé if they need one. So just let me know when you have an answer.”
Daniel smiled. He didn’t do that often enough. When he smiled maybe, just maybe, she could see what Em saw in him. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “It’s a smart move for you.” Pale gray eyes studied her a moment and she thought maybe he was about to ask if there were any obstacles to her going but then he just gave a small nod. “I’ll put your name forward to the project team now. With my strong recommendation. I’ll let you know when they give me an answer. I don’t think it will take long. I know they’ve already appointed a few people to the integration team. You have a passport, I take it?”
“Yes.” She’d got
ten one years ago even though, except for Mexico, she’d never used it.
“All right,” he said. “They’re pulling strings to get visas and all those details organized. I understand the plan is for us to organize accommodations. So all you should have to do is pack. Do you think you can fit your life into two suitcases for six months?”
“Yes,” she said. And just like that, it was done.
* * *
Two weeks later and Amelia was beginning to think that whoever came up with the idea of only two suitcases for extended trips was a sadist. But every time she started to panic, she reminded herself that there were stores in Hong Kong. And tailors. Everything she could possibly want.
Except for Oliver.
No. She wasn’t thinking about him. She hadn’t heard from him since that morning in her apartment. She’d sent him a text to let him know she was actually going to Hong Kong.
She hadn’t had a reply.
So that was that. No matter how many times she had cried about it. Even now her excitement at going to Hong Kong was tempered by the loss of him.
She’d forget when she got there, she decided. There’d be no reminders of him. Even with the season over, New York was a hard town to forget about baseball in. In Hong Kong she’d have a new apartment. New furniture. Nothing she could picture Oliver lounging or lying on.
She just had to hold on until then and remember she was making the right decision.
Because she was.
She hadn’t spoken to Finn yet, either. Em had called her when he had been released from the hospital. He was getting better but was still resting and limited in what he was allowed to do. The doctors weren’t taking any more chances with his concussion. That conversation had been awkward and stilted. Em had apologized for her outburst in the hospital but Amelia wasn’t sure she forgave her yet. They would patch it up eventually. But it might never be the same friendship it had been before.
She’d seen the story about Finn and the fight in the news of course. Lots of speculation about what the Saints were going to do to the players involved. Breathed a sigh of relief when it seemed no charges were being pressed.
And then Maggie Winters had called to ask if she would come to Deacon Field to talk about Finn.
So tempting to say no. But Maggie and the others had been nothing but kind to her. So she could do this last thing for them and for Finn before she left.
Which was why she was climbing out of a cab on a Saturday morning to stare up at the ugly concrete walls of Deacon Field one last time.
She kept her eyes averted from the larger-than-life banners of Saints players currently decorating the walls. One of them was Oliver. She didn’t want to see him. Not even in a picture.
Maggie met her at the entry gate they’d agreed on. Gave her a quick hug, which Amelia returned. To Amelia’s relief, she didn’t mention anything about Oliver and Amelia, just chatted about safe topics—which Amelia interpreted as yes, she knew that Amelia and Oliver were over, but no she wasn’t going to mention it unless Amelia did—until they got inside the office tower and reached Alex’s office.
Where Lucas and Alex and Mal were all waiting. Along with Dan Ellis.
“I’m staying here, too,” Maggie said in a low voice. Then she frowned at the men. “You should all sit and stop looming. You’ll make Amelia think she’s on trial or something.”
They all rolled their eyes at Maggie but smiled and sat. Maggie asked Amelia if she wanted anything to drink but she refused, keeping her attention on the men. She might not be on trial in this room but it was pretty clear that Finn’s future was.
“Amelia, we wanted to talk to someone close to Finn,” Alex said when they were all seated. “Lucas said that in the hospital, you said you didn’t think Finn would do drugs?”
She nodded. She’d told herself she would tell the truth here. That was the biggest favor she could do for Finn, regardless of how he might feel about her afterward. “Yes. That’s right. I’ve never known him to take drugs.”
“That’s what he says, too,” Alex said. “Do you think we should believe him?”
“Yes. About the drugs. I just can’t see it.” Maybe she was naive to think it, but she had to go with her gut.
“Do you think he’s happy?” Lucas said suddenly.
“He was upset about losing,” she said. She hesitated. Truth. “But I think that was just the culmination of a lot of things. He’s been putting a lot of pressure on himself since he got to New York. So, no, I’m not sure happy is the word I’d use.”
“Does he drink when he’s not happy?” Lucas said.
“Are you asking me if I think he has a drinking problem?”
“Yes,” Alex said bluntly.
She sighed. “He’s never been one to turn down a party. But he’s also never let it interfere with his game. He’s not eighteen anymore. I don’t see how he could drink enough for it to be a habit and still play well.”
“You might be surprised,” Lucas muttered.
Amelia nodded. “He drinks, yes. I don’t know how much or how regularly. I don’t think more than I’ve known him to in the past but it’s not like we live in each other’s pockets.” She hesitated. “Are you going to release him?”
Lucas shrugged. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. How best to solve this problem. Because there’s obviously something going on with him.”
“What about the other players who were in the fight?”
“None of them has gotten into this sort of trouble before,” Mal said. “But that’s not the case with Finn. We knew that when we took him on from the Cubs. Even there he hadn’t screwed up this badly.”
“If someone put something in his drink—” she started.
Alex held up a hand. “We’re taking that into account. That possibility. But that doesn’t change the fact that Finn doesn’t appear to be handling major-league baseball well. So the question becomes whether he can change that or not. Whether he wants to.”
“He’s wanted to play baseball his whole life,” she said. “He loves the game. It’s like the thing he’s meant to do. I know that much.”
Alex nodded. “Yes. Well. Sometimes dreams have to change.” He looked at her a moment. “Now I think we’ve taken up enough of your time.” He stood. Smiled. Which was dazzling. When Alex Winters focused on you and smiled, it was easy to see why Maggie had snapped the man up. “I know quite a few people in Hong Kong. Yell if you ever need anything.”
Well, that answered the question of whether they knew about her and Oliver breaking up. He’d obviously told them that she was leaving. “Thank you,” she said. “Finn’s a good guy,” she added. “Underneath it all. He’s always been a good guy. So if you think you can give him a chance, I don’t think he’ll let you down again.”
* * *
Maggie showed her out and they started back toward the elevator. “So, Hong Kong,” Maggie said. “Are you excited?”
“Yes,” Amelia said. “Excited and terrified.”
“I get that,” Maggie said. Then she stopped walking. Bit her lip. “Okay, I’m just going to say this. Tell me to go soak my head if you want but Oliver is kind of my Finn, so I have to ask. Are you sure you’re doing the right thing here? He’s crazy about you. I know that. He’s been like a bear with a sore head for the last two weeks.”
“I’m sorry,” Amelia said. “I’m sorry I hurt him. But I have to do this. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“No way for you guys to work it out?”
“I raised the possibility of long distance,” Amelia said. “It seems dumb. We only dated a few weeks. But Oliver said no.”
Maggie frowned. “Men are stupid sometimes. Give him another chance.”
“He’s made his feeling pretty clear,” Amelia said, shaking her head. “And as much as I lo—I mean, care about him,” she amended. God, how had she let that slip out? She didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him. “I can’t give this up for him. It’s kind of like, well, to use a baseball ana
logy, it’s like my shot at the big leagues. So I can either step up to the plate or stay on the sidelines. And even if the sidelines means I get to keep Oliver, I think that in order to be able to live with myself, I need to step up to the plate. I’d rather have the regrets that come with a swing and a miss than the regrets from never getting into the game. Does that make sense?”
The brunette smiled at her, something sad in the expression. “Yes. It does. And I understand. I just wish you could have both.”
“Well, if you figure out how to have your cake and eat it, too, let me know,” Amelia said. “Now I need a taxi. I have to finish packing. I’m leaving on Wednesday.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah. Big rush.”
“I’ve never been to Hong Kong,” Maggie said. “Maybe I can convince Alex we need a trip now that it’s the off-season. We can come look you up.”
“I’d like that,” Amelia said, meaning it. “I wanted to say thank you. You’ve been so nice to me.”
“You’re easy to be nice to,” Maggie said. Behind her, the elevator dinged and her eyes went wide. “Crap.” She grabbed Amelia’s arm. “Okay, I’m sorry for what’s about to happen. I thought I had the timing right.”
“What?” Amelia said, confused. Then Oliver stepped out of the elevator and she froze.
He looked good. No stick. And no splint on his hand. Just a bandage. That had to be a good thing. He wore dark jeans and a dark-green shirt and she’d never wanted so badly to be able to touch someone in her life.
“You’re early,” Maggie said, breaking the silence. Oliver kept looking at Amelia. Her face started to heat. And her heart started to break all over again.
“I have to go,” she said. “It was nice to see you,” she blurted at him and then rushed past him and into the elevator, hitting the CLOSE button and letting it carry her down to safety before she lost it completely.
* * *
“You’re early,” Maggie repeated, sounding exasperated. Oliver shook himself. Amelia. Had been here. And he’d said nothing. Fuck. She’d been standing right there, gorgeous in jeans and boots and a sludgy green sweater, red blond hair falling around her face. And he’d said nothing.
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