Page 42 of Embers in the Outfield

The moment he looks behind me, I see him change completely. “And who might this beauty be?” he asks, extending his hand and bringing Kennedy’s knuckles to his lips.

I see her blush immediately as I answer, “This is our friend, Kennedy. She’s actually from New York herself.”

It feels weird in that instant, introducing Kennedy because I don’t know what label we should put on one another. Girlfriend isn’t right, but putting any other name to it seems demeaning. Hopefully, she isn’t mad I didn’t elaborate further than friendship.

“Well, you’re breathtaking, Miss Kennedy.” Scottie pulls out all the charm for her. I roll my eyes and chuckle while Clay just watches the exchange. I can tell my brother wants to say something, but he holds back.

We decide to follow Scottie back in to take a look at the firehouse. I haven’t been here before, never really spending more time down this way than I had to. But as I walk the halls of the station, touching the walls and the lockers, it makes me wonder what my father touched as he walked these same steps. There’s a connection for me when I get to do things my father did. I feel like I’m getting to walk alongside him, even if he hasn’tstepped foot in here since that horrible day. No matter what, I feel like pieces of him are embedded in parts of the fixtures that make this firehouse what it is today.

I feel Kennedy bring her hand into mine and squeeze. I can’t help but squeeze back. I look down at her, and in her gaze, I see kindness and empathy for the feelings that are swirling inside me right now. It feels like a deeper connection than I expected to this woman I’ve been feuding with for a decade. But something about her being here with me feels right, and I’m going to hold on to that for now.

CHAPTER 18

Kennedy

“And you thinkthat nearly shoving his dick up that girl’s skirt on the dance floor looks like a great way to represent the team?” I could literally breathe fire at this point.

I woke up to headlines across every tabloid talking about Brett Henry’s sexual escapades from last night and I’ve been putting out fires all day dealing with his mess.

“He’s a star athlete, on top of the fact he’s good-looking. What do you expect out of him? He’s not the first athlete to act this way, and I promise you he’s not the last,” Jerry, the manager of the team, pipes back.

“Here’s the thing, Jerry, this is going to bite us in the ass someday. Do you not see how this could snowball into something bigger? Indecent exposure, possibly having a woman come forward saying negative things about him, fuck, I don’t know. Add in endorsements going down the drain for him and possibly the franchise if this gets beyond our control. Think of a shitty situation, then multiply it by ten, and that’s how out of hand this guy will get if we don’t nip this in the bud now,” I say, exasperated that I have to have this conversation in such detail.

If I, or any woman for that matter, did something like this while holding a position like Brett, we’d be persecuted. We’d be put out for society to throw every accusatory word our way. I get that this seems simple enough right now, but give it time, and Brett Henry will be in deep shit.

I’ve already heard talks of companies cracking down on players who are not putting their best foot forward when it comes to the media spotlight. They’re trying to endorse players who are not just performing well in the sport they’re in but also someone who people can look up to. This behavior of drunken nights and groping women on a dance floor does not bode well for him, nor does it reflect well on us as an organization.

“Listen, I’ll talk to him.” Jerry sounds exasperated by this conversation. Tough shit, he better start managing, or I’m taking the reins.

“You have a week to show me that Brett Henry can get his shit together. I do not want to wake up with another news story splashed across my desk before I’ve even had my morning coffee. This ends today.” I lean my head back and exhale the breath I feel like I have kept in for the entirety of this call.

“Yes, ma’am.” In typical Jerry fashion, the line goes dead. I swear it’s taking everything in me not to chuck this phone across the room.

“UGH,” I let out, staring at my phone while I try to calm myself down.

“Well, Skip, looks like your day needs to be redirected.” I hear River’s voice behind me, and I swivel my chair to face the door.

I see that easy smile across his face, and he makes his way into my office. I stand and walk a few paces before he swallows me in a hug. He kisses the top of my head, and I pull my gaze up to meet his.

“It’s good to see you,” I say as I breathe in his woodsy scent that instantly calms my nerves. I haven’t seen him in a week. Work has been shit, and each night I have been free, he’s been at the station.

“You’re working late again. I was down the street having a beer with Ashton, and after I got your text, I thought I’d swing by and see if you needed some company.” He pushes a piece of hair back behind my ear, looking deeply into my eyes, and it feels like all my frustrations fall to the wayside the moment he pulls me into his arms.

I’m so entrapped in everything River, I don’t notice he’s got a bag in one hand. The moment he holds it up into view, I see the logo of the restaurant, and I wiggle in excitement.

“I thought a little break and Costello’s Deli would do the trick.” He beams like he’s found a way to solve all my problems in one simple gesture. He might not be able to handle Brett Henry’s party animal ways, but he sure knows the way to my heart. Food and orgasms are always a win.

“Good to know,” he says with a chuckle.

“Shit, did I say that out loud?” I look at him, and I can feel my cheeks heat up.

“You did, and I’ve made a mental note for the future.” He sends a wink my way, and I feel it down to my core.

We make our way to the couch in my office, and I kick my shoes off and sit with the bag of food in my lap. Things with River feel comfortable, which is something I never thought possible. Had someone said a few months ago this would be my interaction with him, I would have laughed in their face. In no way had I predicted this would be the outcome of all those fights over the last decade.

“Tell me what that was all about,” he inquires. I still find myself surprised by this side of River. He shows me this sensitive part of him that I never had a window into before.

I groan, thinking about everything I’ve had to deal with today. “It’s been a bit hellish with the whole thing that came up with Brett this morning in the paper, but it’s looking up.” I smile as I take a bite of my sandwich.

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