Page 97 of Truth or More Truth
thirty-nine
. . .
“I’m doing it—I’m releasing all my clients except the four in Chicago,” Bobby says over the phone the night after we talked about the possibility.
“Really?” I sit up straight on the couch, where I’ve been lying down watching Johnny Carson on TV. “You’re sure this is what you want?”
“I’m positive this is what I want, and it’s what’s best for me and my family and friendships and my relationship with you.”
The two of us haven’t talked frankly about our finances, but I feel like I need to bring it up now. “I don’t need to know your full financial situation, but will your new income be enough?”
He chuckles. “Thanks for worrying about me, but yes, it will. My house and cars are paid off, and I’ve made some great investments. To be completely open about this, I can survive comfortably for the rest of my life without any more income at all.”
I shouldn’t be surprised by his admission, as I have many friends who make enormous amounts of money. But some of them still somehow live paycheck to paycheck. I was hoping that wasn’t the case with Bobby, but knowing he’s debt-free and set for life is a little unexpected. I sometimes forget he’s quite a bit older than me, though. Not many people my age would be in his position without having a trust fund, which Bobby most certainly doesn’t have.
Bobby continues, “But I can’t just sit around and do nothing. I need to work.”
“I get that.” I kick my socked feet up onto my glass-topped coffee table. “So how do you go about releasing your clients? Do you find them a new agent or leave that up to them?”
“I can’t control who they go to next, but there are a handful of agents I trust and will recommend to them. I’ll also talk to those agents once I let my clients know and fill them in on the situation. I’m not worried about any of my guys not being taken care of. While there are some bad apples in this profession, as well as a lot of mediocre agents, there are also a few I’d trust with my own career if I were a professional athlete. I’ll do my best to make sure my clients get the best new agent for their needs.”
“Of course you will. What’s next, then, now that you’ve decided? You call your guys and let them know?” I get up to make some hot chocolate. We’ve been dealing with frigid temperatures for days, and my radiator is having trouble keeping up.
“It’s not something that can be done overnight. Each league has rules about how players can change agents. I’ll be required to give written notice to each of them, but I also plan to meet with them in person.” He then explains how everything works with terminating contracts and such. “It could be months—potentially even years—before I can get out of some of the contracts if a player doesn’t want to break ties with me. I’m just hoping they’ll be understanding about it.”
“I know the baseball players are starting to report to spring training. So that means you’ll be heading back down to Florida and to Arizona?” I take a sip of my freshly made drink and my body relaxes as the warmth makes its way down my throat.
“I will. You think you can convince your boss to let you go to Arizona for a few days while I’m there? Maybe meet with the customer relations team at the stadium to swap ideas or something?”
“Let me know the dates, and I’ll see what I can do.” Some of the front office staff go to Arizona for a couple months during spring training, but my position isn’t one that’s needed downthere. “If they say no, maybe I could take a quick weekend trip. Some sunshine and warm weather would be nice.”
“As well as the company of your favorite guy?”
“Oh, yeah, Diego will be there, won’t he?” I tease.
His responding growl makes me giggle.
I add, “He really is the most attentive man.”
I shiver against the cold as I trudge the few blocks home from my office to my apartment after working a few hours later than usual to make up for being out of the office on Thursday and Friday. I resorted to wearing ski pants last week before I left for Arizona, as I couldn’t take the cold on my legs anymore, even with the thickest pantyhose I could find. My skirt is tucked into a tote bag slung on my shoulder, along with my heels, since I’d look pretty ridiculous wearing heels with these pants. They also do absolutely nothing to keep my feet warm.
The four days I just spent in Arizona spoiled me with the warm weather. My boss agreed to send me down to spring training for two days, after I explained I wouldn’t need housing, a rental car, or a food stipend, so the costs would be limited to my plane ticket. Rumors have been flying around the office about Bobby and me, so I think my boss knows the primary reason I wanted to go down there and why almost everything was paid for, but he didn’t say anything to that effect.
Since I was working Thursday and Friday, I stayed in Arizona for the weekend to spend even more time with my boyfriend. We hadn’t seen each other in more than a month, so our time together was long overdue.
It’s also been more than a month since Diego talked to me about how Bobby might have the freedom to move to Chicago, but Bobby hasn’t mentioned anything along those lines. I wonder if that’s because Diego didn’t talk to Kelli, or Kelli or Nanette don’t want to move, or Kelli didn’t talk to her dad, or—worst of all—because Bobby outright vetoed the idea. I know I said I didn’t want to get involved, but I’d really like to know where that issuestands. I almost brought it up in Arizona, but I want him to take the initiative on it.
While I’m still open to moving to California if this relationship continues to progress, I’d like to at least be able to have a conversation with my boyfriend about the possibility of him moving to Chicago. I know it would be a complicated move, but since he’s already made the decision to limit his clients to the ones who currently play in Chicago, it makes more sense for him and his family to move here than for me to go there. And frankly, it makes sense even if you take me out of the equation. I don’t like the idea of him not even considering it, so I hope that’s not the case.
He also hasn’t explicitly invited me to go to California to meet Kelli and Nanette, which is frustrating. I know Kelli is dying to meet me, because I’ve heard her wheedling him in the background of a few of our calls. I’m also excited to meet Kelli, because I’m certain I will absolutely love her. And I’m also anxious to meet Nanette and assess how she interacts with Bobby. If everything seems as platonic as Bobby claims it to be, then from what I’ve heard about her from both Bobby and Diego, I think we could become friends.
My phone is ringing as I unlock my apartment door, and I dash across the living room to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Is this Melissa?” a young woman’s voice asks. It sounds suspiciously like what I remember Kelli’s voice sounding like.
“It is. Can I help you?”
