“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
And I do know that. Women who sleep with men in this industry are shunned.
She’s worked too hard and too long.
Doesn’t stop me from wishing it was different, though.
I watch her leave and, once the door clicks shut behind her, I spin in place and head straight for the kitchen to grab another beer. I don’t look at the counter, just march into the bedroom and shut the door behind me.
I need to sleep this off. Sleep her off, praying to any higher power out there that might exist that I don’t dream about her.
But first a shower.
A cold one.
Ice cold.
The first thing I see when I get out of the shower, towel wrapped around my waist, is a missed call lighting up my phone screen from my nightstand. I nearly trip over my discarded clothes trying to get to it, but when I sit on the edge of my bed it’s not the name I hoped for on the notification.
Ethan Quicke.
Taking a long slug from the beer I got from the fridge, I call him back.
“Charlie!” he says, like he’s greeting an old friend, “how’s it going?”
“Really?” I shoot back. “How’s it going? Shitty, it’s going fucking shitty.”
“Oh, I guess you heard,” he says. “I wanted to talk to you before it leaked.”
“Yeah, I heard. What the fuck are you doing? We shook hands. That means something where I come from. I thought it did where you come from too.”
“You know how it is. Dan was upset that I shook on a deal that he didn’t approve, so I let him go to other teams with the chance to counteroffer. I didn’t expect anyone to top what we agreed to, but the Dodgers did and I need to do what’s best for me and my family.”
“And that extra couple of million will really make a difference.”
It sounds insane – millions of dollars do matter, but at a certain point, how much is too much? When does it become Monopoly money?
He scoffs. “Like you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”
“Newsflash, asshole, I didn’t do the same thing. You think that contract I signed with the Dodgers was the most money I could get? I wanted to play there. I wanted to win a championship with the only organization I ever played for. That’s what you said you wanted too. And it was all bullshit.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault you were a weak negotiator then and naive about that shit now. This is a business and I don’t owe the Eagles any fucking thing, especially when they want to replace me with some import who’s never thrown a goddamn pitch in the major leagues.”
“You know what? Fuck you. I’ll see you in October, motherfucker.”
“Yeah, you wish, asshole.”
The line goes dead.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t have done that, even if it felt good.
But I realize I meant every word. And it’s because of her. Frankie. She has me believing, really believing in this absolutely batshit plan of hers.
I toss myself back onto the mattress, trying not to think about the plans I had for it less than an hour ago, yanking the sheets up over my body and flicking off the lights.
Sleep.
