Page 9 of Crew
The lobby bar was dim and quiet, matching our mood. We found a table tucked away in a corner and ordered a round of beers.
Once we had our drinks, the conversation quickly turned to the game and how we had played.
“If we don’t get out of this slump soon, the team might want to make some changes to the roster,” Stratton mused, lifting the bottle to his lips.
“No shit, and I’m out of options,” Payne explained. “I’ll be fucking pissed if I get designated for assignment.”
Hearing a veteran player worry about his future served as another reminder of how temporary everything in baseballwas.
Davenport nodded. “Schmitt’s ass is probably on the line too. The last three seasons haven’t been great.”
“He’s the best manager I’ve played for,” Latham added. “If we’re not going to get our shit together for ourselves, we at least owe it to him.”
We continued chatting, tossing around ideas about what we could do to get things going our way again. At least, that’s what we did until Payne glanced over at the bar.
“I think I found a way to forget all about this crappy night.” Payne smirked, elbowing Latham.
We turned to see what caught his attention and saw three women drinking cosmos and smiling at us.
Latham pushed away from the table. “I like the sound of that.”
Davenport, Stratton, and I watched them approach the group. The ladies laughed at something one of them said, but another kept her focus on our table. Or, more specifically, on Stratton.
But he didn’t acknowledge her, and his lack of interest surprised me. From the little bit of media coverage I’d seen, I was pretty sure Stratton was straight, and I’d seen photos of him at a couple of events with a date.
She must have gotten the hint because she whispered something to her friends before grabbing her purse and walking away, her shoulders slumped in disappointment.
A few minutes later, Payne and Latham called out their goodbyes to us and then led the two remaining women to the elevators.
“Looks like those two are about to get lucky.” Davenport lifted his phone from the table. “Meanwhile, I’ll be doing the same, except mine will be through a video call.”
I snorted. “That’s romantic.”
“My lady doesn’t complain.” He smirked before standing. “Later, boys.”
He took off, leaving just me and Stratton at the table.
Suddenly, sitting alone with one of my new teammates felt a little awkward. Maybe it was because I was across from the guy I’d beenchecking out an hour earlier and couldn’t think of anything to say. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have the same problem.
“Leave it to Payne and Latham to ditch a serious conversation about baseball for an easy hook up.” He chuckled.
“No kidding. They saw an opportunity and jumped at it.”
He picked at the label on his bottle. “You ever do that?”
“What? Approach someone I’m interested in?” His question caught me off guard. “Yeah. All the time. Don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Not very often.”
I wrinkled my brow in confusion, a little surprised by that. “Seriously?”
He glanced around the bar, which had emptied out except for the bartender cleaning a table on the other side of the room. “No one asks questions when a guy like me goes after awoman.”
He paused, looking at me like he expected me to put the pieces of an unknown puzzle together, but then it clicked.
“And when it’s not a woman?”
“It’s not really a thing during the season,” he admitted. “Offseason is another story, but around the team?” He sighed. “I keep that to myself.”
