Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Well, dickhead, if you’d give it longer than five minutes before you check again…
I suck it up and write to Maddox anyway.
Zane: Hey! Any news? Just checking.
There. That’s not too pushy or too eager. I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the funk that’s been outrunning me the last few days. My series with Phoenix sucked. I was up in my head too much, and I hate that seeing my brother did that to me.
I shouldn’t fixate on Gage’s injury and what it did to his career. I should focus on the joy baseball brings me, my good fortune to be able to play a game for a living.
I click over to the text thread with my brother. Gage sent me a pic of Eliza scoring a run in her game last night. I already responded, but I write back again. BTW, I’ll be at her game next weekend. I’m off on Sunday.
He replies with, Awesome. Hope you have a great series in Miami. And stop swinging at bad pitches. That’s from Coach Eliza.
Laughing, I scroll back to the photo one more time.
I look up from my phone as Gunnar stops at my row. “Excuse me, sir, is this seat available for the best player on the team?” He gestures to the spot next to me.
I unbuckle the belt and make a show of taking the seat.
Gunnar laughs, then when I move back to the window position, I pat the cushion. “Here you go.” He flops down. “It’s for average players,” I retort.
“We better switch then,” he says.
Then my phone beeps. When Maddox’s name pops up, I click so fast.
Maddox: Didn’t mean to keep you waiting. The meeting was pushed back till tomorrow. I just found out an hour ago and was about to let you know. Priyam had to take his granddaughter to a rehearsal for her school play.
Whew. That’s good to know. I tap out a reply and shed a little more of my annoyance.
Zane: That’s adorable. Almost as cute as this…
I attach the pic of my niece, then add, My brother’s kid.
Maddox: That is the cutest!
Zane: Anyway, thanks for the update. I was, I admit, about to lose my mind.
Maddox: Shoot. I’m sorry, Zane. I should have messaged you sooner. It’s been crazy here, but that’s no excuse. I never want to worry you or leave you hanging.
Zane: Nah, it’s me. You’re all good, man.
Maddox: You sure? Is there anything I can do?
Damn, he’s sweet. The guy loves to solve problems. But there’s nothing to do. The problem is me.
Zane: Nope. Sometimes I’m an impatient, demanding fucker. Case in point—I was impatient last night in my last at-bat. Lot of good that did.
Maddox: I saw some of the game. You didn’t seem like yourself. Try your best to leave that behind—it starts all over tomorrow. Best thing about baseball is all the chances it gives you.
I smile since I was just thinking the same thing. We’re on the same wavelength.
Zane: You’re a baseball philosopher.
Maddox: Don’t tell my other clients, but baseball is my favorite.
Zane: It’ll be our little secret.
Maddox: That works for me. And listen, Zane? Try not to worry about Bespoke either. I’ve got this handled. I’ve done my research. I’ve reviewed his proposal. I’ve made a great pitch. I don’t like to make false promises, but I feel damn good.
I breathe a little easier. Actually, a lot easier.
Zane: Like I told my niece, you’re a rock star.
Maddox: I’m blushing.
Mmm. Bet he looks good blushing. But I don’t say that. And I don’t send another selfie. The safe zone’s not a bad place to be, since I like shooting the breeze with him. Flirting is fuck-all awesome, but so is talking to him. Well, texting.
Zane: Did the change screw with your schedule? I hope you have plenty to do there. I’m sure you’ve been up since five-thirty to run ten miles and draft a fifty-page contract before noon. Then, go to your meeting with the Queen to seal a new branding deal for…rubies or something.
Maddox: Please, the deal was for diamonds.
Zane: But five-thirty and the other stuff was right?
Maddox: I like to exercise every morning. I bet you do too. Pot, kettle.
Zane: Love exercise. All forms of it.
Okay, fine. That was a little flirty. But I’m no saint. Especially with him.
Maddox: No doubt you do. Same here.
Ah, and he’s a little flirty too. I tap out a reply.
Zane: It’s fun imagining the things you do. I especially like being right and then needling you about it.
Maddox: Glad you like giving me a hard time. It seems to be another favorite sport of yours.
Oh, you have no idea, Maddox. But before I can write back with something flirty and dirty, my phone buzzes with another text from him.
Maddox: Are you on your way to Miami soon?
That’s a one eighty. Maybe it’s a sign not to flirt—to just talk shop. Fair enough.