Page 21 of Sliding into Love
I'll get to enjoy baseball again.
“If that’s the case, then we’ve got a secret weapon, and things aren’t as helpless as they first seemed. Do you think we can convince Bardot it’s time for him to show his true skill?” Royce’s voice tears me from those tough memories.
Finn nods excitedly. “If anyone can do it, it’ll probably be Kenneth.”
“Me?! Why in the world do you think I’m the one who can help him?” I sit forward, my hands moving to the top of the meeting table.
While I’m honored he thinks I have this level of connection to the team, I’m not sure I have the ability to do what he’s asking. Being close to the guys doesn’t mean I can make them do things they don’t want to do.
“First off, you’re the one who mentioned you suspect Bardot is holding back,” Bellamy says, jumping in to help his husband. “Second, you're the closest to the team. Third, you’re charming.”
I cough out a laugh. “Charming? Me?”
Bellamy nods, his lips tipping up to one side in a casual smirk. “Yeah, you. I didn’t remember you being that way in the past, but you’ve learned how to charm people in the years since. Bardot might actually listen to what you say because of that.”
Charming.
Me.
Kenneth Meyer.
I’m a bit shocked at the assessment, especially from someone of Bellamy Bellport’s caliber. The man is practically a model. While his status as the eldest in the family definitely gets the media’s attention, his looks and kind disposition give him a rabid fanbase.
For him to say I’m charming is like Prince telling an artist they’re one of the best performers he’s ever met.
“I agree.” Royce says after the room is silent for a bit. My guess is everyone’s thinking through this plan to see if they can get on board with Bardot stepping up to the plate.
“You agree?”
At my question, they raise a brow. “I do. You very clearly have good rapport with everyone here. The fact that you noticed the potential there, and can likely convince him it will benefit everyone if he comes through for us, makes it obvious you’re the best fit.”
“Huh,” I mutter. Their words are somewhat flattering, but I don’t think he likes admitting it. If I were to guess, I’d say Royce still holds a grudge against me for the foolish things I did in the past. They have every right to. I don’t expect blanket forgiveness.
But that also means I’m going to continue to struggle with their words. Do they truly mean what they're saying or am I being set up to fail?
Although… it doesn’t matter all that much in the long run. I’m stepping down from my spot as manager of the team. Any and all things that happen once I’m gone won’t be my responsibility.
With that idea firmly planted, I nod sharply. “Then I’ll speak with him once he’s in for today’s practice. Maybe he'll even be eager to step into place.”
There are murmurs around the room. No one wants to bet money on that happening just yet.
While Bardot is a fantastic player, he is not the friendliest in general. He’s a loner. A man who shows up, plays the sport he loves, and heads home. He has no wife or kids. No pets.
Honestly, he and I are the same in that respect. Whereas I’ve been holding out for a certain someone all these years, I’m not sure why Bardot hasn't committed to anything.
“Next on the agenda is marketing and PR. Jexas, our guru in all things social media, will take the floor,” Royce says, waving their hand out to give Jexas the floor.
My mind wanders from there, only half listening. I know Royce will have it covered. I’ll ask them to catch me up later.
For now, I need to focus on all things Bardot.
Two mind-numbing hours later, I’m leaning against the wall outside the locker room to wait for Bardot’s arrival. Royce offered to come down with me to wait, but I turned them down.
Partially because I didn’t want them to see me sweat. Also because I didn’t want to intimidate Bardot with two authority figures.
As I go over my plan one more time, the man of the hour turns the corner at the end of the hall, bringing him into view. He startles for a second upon seeing me. Once he picks up his stride, a sort of determination takes over his posture.
“Kenny,” he greets.
