Page 45

FRANCESCA

When we pull up in front of Russell Field, he’s waiting at the staff entrance, t-shirt still a wrinkled mess, his jeans slung low on his hips, the autumn wind tousling his hair when he steps out of the stadium’s shadow to meet me.

I thank Vlad and watch him toss Charlie a little salute before he drives away.

“They’re all there,” Charlie says, shoving his hands into his pockets as he falls in beside me, matching my stride with his as security lets us through the entrance. “The entire ownership board and Hannah Vinch. Stew’s up there with them now, trying to find a solution.”

“The solution was not firing me in the first place just because Dan Wilson is a little bitch.”

“That’s the gist of Stew’s pitch.”

“They can’t undo it.”

“No, they can’t,” he agrees, simply.

“So, I listen to what they have to say and we go from there.”

His eyes twinkle at me as we wait for the elevator and, when the doors open, Gregory is there.

Stew’s assistant – turned my assistant – looks me up and down carefully and then nods, like he was afraid I was going to show up as raggedy-looking as Charlie.

Charlie’s hand falls from the small of my back; the comforting weight had been there since I arrived and I hadn’t noticed, but the loss of it, the sudden emptiness, that makes me stop.

“You’re not coming?” I ask, as Gregory holds the elevator. He’s taken a step back from me.

“Nah, they know where I stand and this is your show. Go do your thing. You got this.”

With a final nod, I step into the elevator and Gregory straightens his shoulders before pressing the button for the top floor.

We ride in silence for a few seconds before he spins in place.

He blinks at me and clocks the pinstripes in my outfit, maybe for the first time, and then he grins.

I’m not sure I’ve ever actually seen him smile before.

It’s a nice one, a little hesitant and a little shy, but nice.

“I want you to know,” he says suddenly, “that if you’re going elsewhere, I’d like to come too, if . . . if that’s okay with you.”

“More than okay. You’re my first hire.”

His shoulders relax and the elevator arrives at the intended floor.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I say, stepping out, seeing Stew waiting for me about halfway down the hallway.

“I mean for them,” he mutters, and I just manage to control my sputtering laughter as the elevator doors hide his.

Who knew Gregory had a dry wit?

At least there’ll be one familiar face in the Bronx with me when I get started.

“Stew,” I say, thrilled to see him, and I suddenly have a pang of regret for not making more time to go and visit him in the last couple of weeks. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fit as a fiddle. Got the doc’s clearance to get back to work soon, so there’s that. Rita is thrilled to get me the hell out of the house.”

“That’s great news.”

“Yeah, well, the no red meat, no caffeine and no salt diet she has me on isn’t fun, but it was the only way she’d let me out of her sight.”

“It’s because she loves you.”

“Yeah, she does,” he says, “God knows why.”

“She’s a true saint among women.”

Stew snorts, but doesn’t contradict me. “Where’s the kid? I sent him down to get you.”

“He thought I should do this on my own.”

His forehead crumples in surprise, but then, inclining his head, he considers it. “Yeah, you two will do just fine.”

“Do what?”

“I was born at night, but not last night, young lady. I don’t know who either of you thought you were fooling now or even back then.”

“What?”

“Weren’t you two an item when you were with the Dodgers?”

“Absolutely not. There was nothing going on.”

“I mean I just assumed you broke up at some point there, maybe when you left to come here, but I thought . . . we all thought it was . . .”

“It was what?”

His cheeks stain red and I never thought I’d see Stew blush, not if both of us lived a hundred years. “Foreplay,” he mutters, “all those fights, you know? It does it for some people.”

And now it’s my turn to flush in embarrassment, because that’s not a word I ever thought I’d hear him utter.

“We weren’t,” I clarify.

“But now.”

“Yes, now we are.”

“Good. I don’t know who would put up with either of you for the rest of your lives, stubborn mules, the both of you.”

My brain finally fully catches up to the completely insane conversation we’re having just outside the door of the Brooklyn Eagles board room.

“Wait, so . . . who exactly thought that? About Charlie and me?”

“Everyone,” he says, with casual shrug and a sniff. “Anyone who was around you together, most of the league, probably”

“And this whole time I thought . . .” I trail off.

I’d been worried about ever being perceived as that girl , as someone who shit where she ate and took advantage of being an attractive woman in an industry full of men, sleeping my way to the top and not earning it.

But, apparently, no one cared.

I got promoted with the Dodgers, twice.

I got this job.

The Yankees want me to be their next General Manger and, all this time, I was worried, for nothing.

Second-Place Sullivan to the core, I didn’t even realize that I’d already won.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not,” Stew admits. “You’re just so damn good at your job no one cares who the hell you’re sleeping with, kiddo.”

“Every girl’s dream,” I say, wryly, and then with a deep breath and a sharp exhale, I look to him. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Stew chuckles. “That’s the spirit.”

Nancy, the woman who I met a couple of weeks ago, is there to open the door and she gives me a firm nod of acknowledgment and waits for me to respond. I do, smiling to let her know I appreciate it and straighten my suit jacket before another nod signals to her to open the door.

Hannah Vinch is there at the head of the table, already standing and moving around it to shake my hand, two rows of men, mostly white and aging, line both sides of the long mahogany boardroom table, shined to a glossy finish. None of them look happy to be here.

I can relate.

“Francesca, I’m so glad you were able to join us today,” Hannah says, reaching out a hand for me to shake and I do.

“It’s the least I could do for the organization that gave me such an incredible opportunity to build my career for the past two years,” I say, neutrally.

A tight smile is her only response and she gestures toward the chair at the foot of the table, directly across from hers.

“Can I get you anything?” Nancy asks from behind me.

When I turn to face her, I whisper “Vodka” under my breath, and she winks before I say “Just water, thank you.”

I take my seat, water glass placed in front of me, and Nancy closes the door after Stew moves into the room and sits in the empty chair beside Mrs Vinch.

“I’m sure you know why we’ve called this meeting,” she begins, and I have to immediately interrupt her.

“I’m sorry, but no, I don’t.”

There’s a ripple of disgruntled murmuring from the men.

“Didn’t Stew tell you?” Hannah says, looking to her left with a questioning brow.

“It wasn’t my place,” Stew says, simply, sitting back in his chair and crossing his hands over his protruding belly. “I’m technically still on leave.”

“Ah,” Hannah pivots smoothly, though I know her voice well enough now to know she’s ruffled. “Then, I suppose the honor falls to me.”

“Honor?” I ask.

“We held a board meeting last night and this body has determined it’s within the organization’s best interest, both in the short and long term, to offer you your job back.”

Exactly what I expected. “Like I said earlier, Mrs Vinch, while I’m truly grateful for the opportunity Stew gave me when he brought me on,” – I’m not about to give her any credit in this moment – “at this time, I have to respectfully decline.”

“I told you she wouldn’t take it,” Stew says, leaning fully back into his chair. I half expect him to prop his feet up on the boardroom table.

“Can I ask why not?” Hannah says.

“I’ve been offered another job,” I say, simply, but make sure to pluck at the wrists of my suit jacket. Pinstripes.

Another wave of discontent flows through the men between us.

“Another job?” she prompts me.

“Yes.”

She’s no fool. She didn’t get to where she is now through anything other than sheer grit and determination. Just like I did. She knows exactly who has offered me a job. “We’d very much like a chance to counter that offer, if you’d be so inclined.”

“You can certainly try.”

“Stew?” She says, with an elegant gesture of her hand, giving him the floor.

He straightens in his seat and grins at me, wide and proud. “What do you say to Vice President and General Manager of the Brooklyn Eagles?”

I didn’t see that one coming. Not in a million years.

“I’m sorry, isn’t that . . . that’s your job,” I sputter, and I’m half annoyed at him, because throwing me off my game has made Hannah Vinch smile.

“The doctor cleared me for work today, but I had a long talk with Rita and we decided it was time for me to take it easier, slow down a little, but, you know me, I couldn’t retire completely.

I’ll be around as a senior advisor, for whatever you need, but let’s be honest with each other, Frankie, this has been your team since you got here.

We’ll just be making it official. Whatever those bastards uptown offered you, we’ll beat by a year and at least ten percent. ”

I’m not sure I’ve ever been more stunned in my life and, given the last few weeks, that’s saying something.

“I have a question, if you don’t mind?” I ask, directing my words to Hannah. She nods. “When, exactly , did you rethink firing me?”

It’s a test and I wonder if she knows it. Will she be honest?

“When Kai Nakamura called and was effusive in his praise of your pitch. And then when he expressed his desire to sign here was no longer guaranteed if you weren’t at the helm.”

Honesty. Excellent.

“So, all of this was at the whim of a twenty-five-year-old kid with a lightning bolt for an arm.”