Page 43 of Truth or More Truth (Throwback RomComs #3)

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 down there. “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 issue stands.

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?”

“Yeah, this is Kelli—Kelli Jacobs.”

Nausea builds in my throat. “Is your dad OK? Your mom? What’s wrong?”

She huffs out a laugh. “No, sorry, nothing’s wrong. Well, not the kind of wrong you’re thinking. Dad and Mom are both OK.”

I close my eyes and let out a slow breath as I drop onto the couch, still bundled up in my winter gear. “Good. That’s good.” But why is she calling? “Does your dad know you’re calling me?”

“Um, no? But please don’t hang up! I really need to talk to you. Promise you won’t hang up?”

I sigh. I don’t think Bobby will love that I talked to his daughter without talking to him about it first, but I can’t just hang up on her.

She sounds desperate. “OK, you can talk to me. But you have to tell your dad you called me. You don’t have to tell him everything we talk about, as long as you’re not planning to tell me you’re doing something illegal or harmful, which I don’t think you are, but you need to tell him we talked. That’s the promise I need from you.”

I’m starting to sweat under all my layers, so I unzip my coat and ski pants and do my best to take them off while holding the phone to my ear.

“I promise,” Kelli says, “even though he’s not going to like it. But I can deal with him. And it’s not about anything bad. It’s … maybe it’s good? I think so, at least.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I want us to move to Chicago, but my dad won’t listen to me.”

I freeze with my pants halfway to the floor and my coat dangling off one arm. “What?”

“I want us to move to Chicago,” Kelli repeats, “because that’s where Uncle Diego and you and Randall and Ash are, and it’s where all Dad’s clients are gonna be, and I think it’s where he really wants to be.

But he thinks we need to stay here for me and Mom, and we don’t agree.

Sure, I’ll miss Whitley and my other friends and my team, but I’ll make new friends.

Plus, Whitley’s parents are loaded so she can come visit.

And if Dad’s around all the time, he can even coach my new soccer team.

Mom says she can find new doctors, and I told her she can be friends with you and Wendy and Leslie, and she can make more friends.

My dad needs this. He’s never had friends before, except for Uncle Diego, and he’s never ever had a girlfriend.

And all of you are in Chicago. You gotta help me convince him, Melissa. You just have to!”

I fall back down onto the couch and yank off my pants but leave the coat halfway on.

“You’re really sure you’d want to move?” What teenage girl actually wants to move to a new state?

Usually they resist moves with the force of a freight train.

They think leaving their friends will be the end of the world .

“Yes. Would I randomly choose to move to Chicago? No. It gets totally frigid there. It bet it’s like zero degrees right now. But I can deal with that if living there makes my dad happy. And I think it will.”

“But he doesn’t agree?” I finally pull my coat the rest of the way off.

“He just shuts me down when I try to talk to him about it. He won’t listen to me or to Mom. But I think maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Somehow I doubt that. There’s a reason Bobby won’t consider moving and hasn’t talked to me about it. And I’m not sure I want to know that reason, because I’m pretty sure I won’t like it. But I need to know.

“Kelli, your dad and I have only been dating for a couple months.” And I thought we cared enough about each other to talk about stuff like this, but apparently not. “I don’t know that we’re at the point where I can ask him to consider moving his family to Chicago for me.”

“But he asked if you’d be willing to move to California before you even started dating! It’s not fair that he thinks you should move, but he won’t do it, even though Mom and I are fine with it. And it’s not just for you—it’s for everybody. No offense.”

As much as I want to keep asking Kelli questions, I know I shouldn’t. I need to end this conversation and then decide what I want to do about it.

“None taken. I appreciate you telling me all this. I’ll think about what I want to do, but you and I don’t need to talk about this again, all right?

I don’t want your dad to think we’re conspiring behind his back.

And as much as I want to talk to you more and get to know you, we can’t talk again unless your dad says it’s OK. ”

Kelli sighs. “I hate this. I hate that he doesn’t want us to talk or to meet yet. And I hate that he won’t listen to me about moving. He’s so stubborn!”

She’s not wrong, but it’s probably best that I don’t say it.

“Stubborn or not, he’s your dad, and even if you don’t agree with him on this, I hope you don’t let that change anything about your relationship. He’s a great dad, and I don’t want you to forget that.”

“I won’t,” she says softly. “OK, bye, Melissa. Thanks for listening to me.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

I hang up with a sigh, pull an afghan over me, and curl up on my side.

Why didn’t Bobby talk to me about this? And if he’s not willing to even consider the possibility of moving, then is he as invested in this relationship as I am?

I love him. I haven’t said it yet, but I’ve been feeling it for awhile.

I’m just not sure his feelings are as strong as mine are.

He has been more open with me about his feelings than I thought he might be, but I can tell he’s still holding back.

I’ve been willing to sacrifice being close to my friends and family in order to be with him.

But if he’s not willing to sacrifice … I don’t even know what he’d be sacrificing, actually, if he moved here.

He’d be bringing his daughter and her mother with him, and he’d be in the same city as everyone else he cares about as well as all his clients.

I don’t see the problem with that. I need to talk to him, though I wish we could have this conversation in person.

But I’m not waiting until I can see him again, because who knows when that will be?

This long-distance thing is much harder than I thought it would be.