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CHAPTER EIGHT

RACHEL

“This is kind of cool,” my best friend Auden mused as we strode through the Wayne Field main entrance. “I mean, as far as forced company outings go.”

“True,” I said, scanning the space. I’d never been to see the Brooklyn Bats play, but I’d taken Taylor to see the minor league Cyclones play nearby along with some of her softball friends last year. They’d giggled to each other and whispered, pointing at the players as most preteen girls would do, and we’d had a fun day out. Fun was a limited and expensive luxury, but I’d been happy to treat us both.

Maybe if we were all supposed to do PR for the Bats, I’d be able to get tickets at a discount. My disposable income and last book release payout had gone to Taylor’s sports equipment and team dues, plus all the extras that popped up, so I had to choose our free time activities wisely.

I’d never joined anything as a kid because I never had anyone to take me or pick me up. Taylor’s robust schedule was part of me making up for everything our mother didn’t do for us, but it was exhausting me both physically and financially.

“Do you think this is a team-building thing, or are we supposed to do something with the Bats?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my hair away from my eyes as it blew around my face. It was a breezy, early-April day and overcast enough to threaten rain. I’d hoped for box seats with shelter, but the rest of our coworkers were seated right behind home plate.

“I have no idea.” I shrugged as we headed toward two empty seats next to the aisle. “By the time the email came through about a mandatory outing, I was too busy figuring out who would take my sister to her swimming lessons after school to question why.”

I let out a long, frustrated breath. If I’d had the time, I would have searched online for anything about the Brooklyn Bats and if something special was going on that we all had to gather here for right away.

I didn’t follow any local sports teams. Social media would be my clue as to what New York-based sports team had made the play-offs, and I silently supported them like any New Yorker would, but I never had a real interest.

Since they’d settled in Brooklyn, I got a kick out of the team name. It was so Brooklyn to name a baseball team simply the Bats. No beating around the bush as to what they were doing here with a fancy, flowery name. To me, the name said that they weren’t here to compete with any New York baseball dynasties. They just wanted to play. You had to admire ballsy gusto like that.

“When half the office is hybrid, you should give us more notice than twelve hours to find a way to Coney Island,” Auden huffed as she shifted in her seat.

I blew out the same frustrated breath and nodded. I worked as a copywriter for a PR agency and would write articles if the client’s campaign called for it. Occasionally, a client meeting or interview would disrupt my usual hybrid schedule of two days in the office and three days at home, but I’d always had plenty of notice.

I’d handed in my manuscript to my editor last week, or else this unexpected work meeting or outing or whatever this was supposed to be would have sent me into a breakdown spiral if I’d had to sort out my sister and a deadline.

Something had to give soon, but I couldn’t handle trying to decide what.

“Aggravating or not, this is nice,” Auden said to me in a loud whisper as we settled into our seats. We’d been best friends since college, and she’d brought me into the agency after she’d been a designer here for a few years.

While my book royalties would ebb and flow, they didn’t cover the bills on a consistent basis. Plus, if I had only them to depend on, the creative side of my brain would close like a frightened clam. Writing was more for my mental health than my wallet and a treat for me. It was a way to forget my troubles in a fictional world I could create.

I tried not to think about the other treat I’d had last month and ponder silly questions like what he was doing now and where he was working. That treat was something I could only afford to indulge in once, even if the craving was still potent when I’d let my mind drift to all that happened that afternoon and later in his hotel room.

I massaged the tension knot in my neck as I gazed up at the gray sky, drawing on some ice-cold reality to push out the hot fantasies in my brain.

Taylor was doing too much, and I had to sit her down and make her choose rather than let her do whatever activity she had a whim for. But taking that privilege away made me feel like the parenting failure I was exhausting myself not to be.

Although, the one good thing our mother had done was set the bar low. I didn’t have to try that hard to be better than she had been, but it was an uphill battle to make up for all she hadn’t been to us.

I loved my sister to pieces, but being her official guardian was more pressure than I’d ever expected it to be, even if I’d always been the one to take care of her.

My phone buzzed as I searched for my bosses in the crowd.

Emily: Girl, this is your best book yet .

My eyes grew wide as a happy rush ran through me, pure joy kicking up my heartbeat. I was confident in this book, but that nauseated wave of anxiety when I’d hand in a manuscript never wavered. My editor calling it my best book was the distracting high I’d needed today.

Me: Really? All my tenses were good this time?

I wrote for a living, yet when I told a story, past and present tense would trip me up and piss me off.

Emily: Well, no. But don’t worry about that. Your readers are going to go nuts. The longing drips off the page. It’s been a fight to remember I’m supposed to be editing not reading.

Me: I’m thrilled you’re having that problem.

Emily: Me too. I loved your other books too, but whatever you did while you were writing this one, keep doing it.

I exhaled a slow breath, a nasty twinge of regret killing my high and settling in my stomach like a brick, as I realized exactly what I’d done differently with this book and how I couldn’t do it—or him—again.

I’d channeled all that inspiration and—as Emily had noticed—longing into the story that had led me right to Silas that day. I’d finished the entire book in record time, and as I’d read it over, I’d woven all that extra emotion and those “if only” feelings I hadn’t known what to do with into the pages.

I’d known that Silas would be an endless inspiration well, but I didn’t know how long I could draw from it without feeling dejected and depressed.

“What’s up?” Auden asked, her brows pinched at me when I lifted my head. “You looked super excited, and now you just look sad.”

“Emily is almost finished with my new book, and she says it’s my best yet.”

Emily was Auden’s cousin from Long Island, and I’d run into her at a family party years ago, right before I was about to publish my first book. I’d been researching independent publishing for a long time but had been clueless as all hell about where to begin. She was an experienced editor and patient and kind enough to always give it to me straight.

“That’s great! Please tell me you aren’t already in the ‘I know I won’t do better than this’ phase.” Auden let out a soft groan as her head fell back. “Usually, it’s a couple of months after you publish before we have to deal with that.”

“No, it’s not that. Yet,” I said, lifting the corner of my mouth. “She said the longing drips off the page and whatever I did while I was writing this book, make sure to keep doing it.”

Her brows jumped, realization dawning across her features.

“Ah, I think I see. This book was so good because you had an amazing night full of life-altering sex with a man you resolved to never see again.” She lifted a shoulder. “At least, I’m guessing.”

My eyes widened as I swept my gaze back and forth to see if anyone was paying attention to us or had heard what Auden had said. She’d been the only one I told, right after my cab ride of shame smelling like sex and the spicy cologne permeating the collar of Silas’s sweatshirt.

I’d spilled every dirty detail to a silent Auden, other than a couple of audible gasps in my ear at the really filthy parts. She’d understood my reasons for not taking it any further, even though she hadn’t agreed with any of them.

“No, you’re right.”

I was about to say more when my boss, Gayle, started waving her hands at the front of the aisle.

“Thank you all for coming here on such short notice.”

“Like we had a choice,” Auden whispered to me. I nodded and sat back in the oddly comfortable field seat as we waited for her to continue.

“Today is the start of our new partnership with the Brooklyn Bats—and hopefully the start of a new era for New York baseball. Our team is going to do everything they can to help make that happen.”

“A new era? Dramatic much?”

I started to snicker at Auden’s whisper, but I caught myself, pretending to clear my throat when someone turned their head. I loved Gayle and she was a great boss. She’d always been a big supporter of my work and accommodating of whatever I needed to do with and for my sister. But I knew that feral look in her eyes. I spotted the new big client excitement that would drive us all insane until we launched this campaign.

“I’ll explain more in just a few minutes, but in the meantime, enjoy practice.” She motioned behind her. Players were throwing balls back and forth in the outfield, while someone was pitching to a man at the plate. I didn’t know any of the players by name like my sister did for some, but they were young and cute, especially in those tight white pants.

I supposed there were worse ways to pass a workday. Maybe I could get inspired to write a sports romance and get that stupid night of a lifetime out of my head.

“I wonder what plans they have that Gayle thinks we’re going to start an ‘era,’” I said to Auden.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s got plenty.” She turned to me, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I wonder what your man will say when he reads your new book.”

“He’s not my man, and he’s not reading my books.”

“But he asked for your pen name. That’s cute. Super romantic.”

“And if he wanted to use it to look me up, he would have already. We’ve been over this. It was a nice walk on the wild side, and now I’m back to real life.”

“I bet you could, like, leave messages in your books for him in case he is reading.”

I narrowed my eyes at Auden. “Messages?”

“Yeah, like code or something. To meet you somewhere. It could be like a Sleepless in Seattle thing, keep mentioning the Empire State Building on Valentine’s Day and then he’ll just show up as you’re getting on the elevator to leave?—”

“Listen,” I said, holding up a hand. “That’s a nice…idea. A little weird, but nice. He wasn’t looking for anything either. It was a wonderful, one-time connection. And maybe it will end up helping me sell some books.”

I focused on the field in front of us, ignoring Auden’s glare in my periphery.

“I hate that you do this to yourself, but we can rehash that later on.”

She pointed to Gayle, clustered with a few guys now on the field.

“I’d like you all to meet the Brooklyn Bats organization,” Gayle said into a microphone as she stretched her arm toward the men behind her. “Barrett Wayne, team owner.”

The only man in a suit waved to us behind Gayle. I’d seen articles about him, a lifelong New York businessman who decided to create a ball club in his sixties. I guessed it was more fun than the investments he was known for, as he flashed us what seemed to be a genuine and excited smile.

“This is Kent Shapiro, general manager.” Gayle nodded to her side, where a man with glasses in a polo shirt nodded at us with a little too much enthusiasm.

“And brand-new team manager and head coach, Silas Jones.” Gayle beamed as she held out her arm. “You may remember him from his many championship appearances when he played shortstop for Washington.”

The man to the far right, wearing a baseball uniform and jacket, lifted his hand in a small wave. I knew those broad shoulders and wide chest, straining against his shirt as he shifted back and forth on his feet.

When he smiled, my vision blurred, most likely from my heart seizing in my chest right before it bottomed out into my stomach.

I blinked, praying my mind was playing tricks on me. Maybe Emily’s text and Auden’s usual nagging about my love life were making me see things that weren’t there. When he pinched the back of his neck, an almost shy smile curved that perfect mouth that I could still feel on mine, and the full-body panic it triggered was all the confirmation I needed.

This city was full of ghosts and memories that could accost you at any moment. I’d run into a mean girl from high school at the supermarket checkout line one afternoon and had muttered an awkward hello to a college hookup on the subway one morning.

The thought of running into Silas one day hadn’t filled me with that same dread, even if it would be bittersweet as we’d never be more than a passing wave of hello. But now, if in an indirect way, he was a client.

Thanks to an employee’s affair with a client’s married CEO that had brought the agency awful press for a few months, fraternization with clients was now cause for automatic termination.

I pressed a hand to my chest and took in slow breaths as my heart hammered against my palm. My stomach rolled, both from how that one perfect night was not only now ruined, but that it could possibly cost me my job.

It was a stretch, but our management was very sensitive about professional relationships with clients. We’d had sex before he was a client—or before I’d known he was. Would that still count?

Holy shit, I was going to throw up on my seat.

“Rachel, hey,” Auden whispered, concern pinching her brow as she studied me. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to throw up.”

“That’s him,” I told her in a raspy whisper, not enough air in my lungs to give much sound to my words.

“Who is him—” Auden let out a gasp as her hand flew to her mouth. “That’s your Silas?”

I nodded, even though it was almost laughable to think of him as my Silas when I’d only learned his last name thirty seconds ago.

Auden fell back on the seat, blowing out a long breath.

“That is…” She trailed off, her eyes still wide when I turned my head.

“Fucked?” I coughed out a humorless laugh. “Pretty much.”

Gayle spoke about the new partnership and what our plans were, but I’d mostly tuned her out as my focus went to Silas, all the clues about who he was crystallizing in my mind. Why his old job made him train so hard, why he was nervous about a career change, the Washington sweatshirt he’d given me before he’d put me into a cab.

I couldn’t help feeling a little violated, even though it wasn’t his fault. He’d stayed vague about his personal life, and at the time, I’d preferred it that way. I didn’t know what my part in the promotions for the Bats would be or if they’d even involve direct contact with Silas, but I’d see his face everywhere now. I could no longer romanticize the idea of him or what he could’ve been doing after I’d driven away from him that Friday morning.

Not only would I be unable to fight the temptation to look him up, I’d probably have to for work at some point.

When I’d expected regrets after leaving Silas’s hotel room, I’d thought they’d be the more emotional ones. I’d wax sentimental with the what-ifs and think of us as a star-crossed couple brought together by fate, even if I’d known at the time that we were simply two people insecure enough in our daily lives to use each other for an escape.

It had felt real enough, though, and wonderful.

If I had known then what I knew now, other than the threat of having to finance utilities and my sister’s social life with unemployment on light royalty months, I still didn’t regret what had happened between Silas and me.

I just dreaded what would happen next.

After Gayle shared more details I didn’t pay attention to, we all rose from our seats and headed into the interior of the stadium. I followed Auden, hoping she’d heard enough of what Gayle had said to be able to fill me in later.

The adrenaline was beginning to dissipate, and I was thankful to keep in step beside her without my legs shaking.

“Some of the concession stands look open.” Auden pointed to a pretzel and hot dog stand where a bunch of our team had already congregated. “Want to eat your feelings a little?”

“No, because they’ll just come back up,” I scoffed. “If I didn’t know Gayle would freak out, I’d fake a migraine and get out of here.”

“There she is!”

I clenched my eyes shut at the excited tone of Gayle’s voice behind me.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” she said, grasping my arm. “Come with me.”

I forced a smile and nodded, shooting Auden a look over my shoulder as Gayle weaved our way through the small crowd. Auden’s cringe as she watched me go didn’t help the churn of my stomach.

I’d hoped for some time to acclimate to this idea of working with Silas and his team or how to react when I saw him again. There was no time to prepare for any of this, and I could only pray I’d wing it enough to keep my job.

“We’ll talk more about this in the morning, but there is one thing I wanted you to get started on right away.” Gayle pulled me to the side. “And I realize I’m throwing this at you, but you’re my best writer.”

“Gayle, that’s very nice, but?—”

“You are, and the only one I can trust to write a good article in a short amount of time. This is going to be a series, which we’ll talk more about, but I wanted you to get going on this one so we may be able to get it out around opening day or right after it next week.”

Gayle trusted me, and I’d always appreciated that. I wanted to give her my best, and I wouldn’t be able to give her anything if I hid away. I was a professional and an adult, and I had a kid to provide for. I’d dig deep enough to find a way through this.

“Okay, where do you want me to start?”

“Right here,” she said, jerking her chin toward two figures over her shoulder. “I want you to start a piece on their new manager. Kent, Silas, this is Rachel, our best writer, who is going to start right away.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kent said, stepping in front of Gayle to give me a firm if clammy handshake.

I nodded, muttering a nice to meet you when my gaze drifted over his shoulder, meeting the same hazel eyes that had bored into mine when he’d told me to come on his fingers, widening as recognition spread over his perfect face.

I couldn’t run or even step away, only wish the rest of my body wouldn’t melt along with my liquefied knees and splatter onto the floor.

“Hi, Rachel.” Silas extended his hand to me after Kent stepped aside. “I’m happy to work with you” he said, that zing up my arm from where his palm grazed against mine not at all helping my weak equilibrium.

“Me too,” I managed to get out, pushing the widest smile I could muster as I gripped his hand.

This was why I preferred to write my own fictional endings. When it came to real life, it always went to shit.