Page 28 of Fair Trade (New York Monarchs #2)

twenty-four

That little brat.

She has managed to do exactly as I asked, helping craft the perfect team as we head into the playoffs.

She’s also managed to keep me at arm’s length for the past few weeks, which I can respect, since one of us should possess some semblance of self-control.

Time is flying, and we’re only a few games away from qualifying for the World Series. Everything is going according to plan.

And yet, last night, I almost caved.

The whole team, along with their family and friends, were celebrating after we hosted a charity game for hurricane relief in the Caribbean.

I saw all the players pair up with their women, and I somehow found myself holding up two glasses of scotch from my personal stash in my office and was on my way to hand one to Luisa.

I ran into Mateo Martinez, our starting pitcher, on my way to her. I tried to keep up a friendly conversation, but my eyes kept drifting to my Angel, who was ripping up the dance floor with my sister and the rest of their newly formed girl gang.

It was then that Mateo realized who I couldn’t keep my eyes off.

I’ve always kept my cards close to the vest. It’s helped tremendously in building my empire. Steering my competitors in the wrong direction, never allowing them to predict my next power move.

But when it comes to Luisa, those carefully honed skills are long gone.

I ended up giving Mateo the glass intended for her and sequestered myself in my office until I knew the party was over and she was gone.

Now I’m back in my home office, looking over contracts that seem to blur right before my eyes the more I try to read through them.

I need to keep my head on straight.

I am so close to achieving my ultimate goal.

Soon, the team will make it to their first World Series game, and I’ll be off the hook.

I can walk away with my asset and hand off the team to someone who actually knows the sport.

Wipe my hands clean of this mess and focus solely on Stonehaven Media.

Keep true to the plan I formed in my mind the moment my grandfather’s will was read to me over six months ago.

I try to run through the details again, but like every time I do, I get a stabbing pain in my chest at the thought of walking away from the team that has slowly started to feel like family.

An office that has begun to feel like home.

And a woman who, no matter what, will never belong to me yet still feels like mine.

My Angel.

But the clock is ticking, and I’m running out of time.

It’s game night.

The game night.

We’re in the second inning, and it feels like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.

I’ve been on the phone with my attorney all day, making sure he has all the paperwork ready for the transfer of assets. He’s thorough, so he has contracts drawn up for any potential misstep.

Mateo Martinez is playing one hell of a game, ensuring an easy win tonight, so I don’t bother keeping a close eye on the field below me.

Luisa and Daisy walk into my office arm and arm with wide smiles on their faces.

Any other day, I would allow myself to daydream about the possibility of Luisa and me. Together somehow. But in this moment, it’s as clear as ever that that future will never come.

“Hey, big bro. Why the long face? We’re about to make baseball history.”

“Shh!” Luisa elbows Daisy. “Don’t jinx us.”

Daisy rolls her eyes. “What is it with everyone being superstitious today? I’m sure I saw at least five odd rituals happening as I passed by the clubhouse to wish Coach good luck.”

“Trust me, it’s taken some teams decades to dig themselves out of the curses they found themselves under.” Luisa shudders.

“Ladies, while I do appreciate the visit, now is not the best time.”

They both tilt their heads in the same direction, and I can’t help but find it adorable.

“Everything okay, Nick?” my sister asks.

Damn, I feel like shit. Daisy has really seemed to find herself while working for the Monarchs. And soon I’ll have to tell her I’m selling it off. I make a mental note to ensure she maintains her position when I’m gone.

“All’s well. Would prefer some solitude tonight, is all.”

Luisa narrows her eyes. “No such luck, boss. Tonight is a big game. Win or lose, we’re going to need you down there on the field to cheer on the team.”

I fear I won’t be able to look any one of my players in the eye by the end of tonight, but I nod anyway, because I can’t bring myself to say that out loud.

“All right. We’ll go and leave you to brood over your kingdom alone,” Daisy teases as she pulls Luisa closer to the wall of windows behind my desk.

“But first let me take a quick picture of the team from up here. You have the best view of the stadium.” Daisy pulls out her phone and snaps pictures as Luisa stands next to me, her eyes assessing.

“What’s going on, Nick?” she asks low enough for Daisy not to hear.

God, I’m going to miss the sound of my name on her lips.

But Daisy’s loud gasp pulls our attention to the field.

I don’t understand what’s happening.

Why are all the players running onto the field?

“Oh my gosh. They’re fighting!” Daisy yells.

“Did Martinez throw that first punch?” Luisa asks, dazed.

“He definitely threw the second and third one. Oh God, now everyone’s getting in on it!” Daisy shrieks.

“Where is security? How has this gotten out of hand so quickly?” I shout to no one in particular.

“Do you really think security can pull back dozens of amped-up professional athletes? Give it a minute. It’ll die down. In the meantime, I need to get my ass down there and rip Martinez a new one.” She’s gone before I can ask any other stupid questions, with Daisy hot on her heels.

I stare back at the rowdy crowd and unruly baseball players.

What the fuck just happened?

Monarchs lost.

They fucking lost.

I waited down by the dugout, hoping for a miracle. But once that final home run was hit by the opposing team, I stormed off, knocking over one of those huge Gatorade coolers on my way out.

I was on the warpath.

I called my lawyer and told him to look for any loopholes in the will. Figure out if there was any room for negotiations, anything.

I was screaming at the top of my lungs, not caring who heard or saw me.

But it was all in vain.

Because I knew.

It was all over.

And I had lost yet again.