Page 18 of The Game Changer
He barks out a laugh and nods at me before taking his stance.
This time, my bat connects with a lot more force and the ball goes sailing into left field. “How ’bout that?” I crow, swinging my bataround.
“Yeah, yeah, fine. Bankrupt the organization with foam fingers and jerseys,” Dom gripes, shaking his head.
“Forget fingers, I’m thinking giant foam lightning bolts.”
“That would work if we were the Cedar Creek Lightning,” he fires back, and I shrug with a smirk.
“Whatever. I get to do what I want. I hit the ball.”
We go for a few more pitches before switching places. Except the slope to the pitching mound presents me with a challenge. After the first few shitty pitches, I throw my glove down in frustration.
“Fuck.”
Dom jogs over. “Hey, everything okay?”
“Yeah. Fine,” I bite out, bending down and massaging my quad. “Just can’t get a good stance on the slope.”
He frowns down at my leg. “Doesn’t your fancy microchip thing help with that?”
I swear to God, this guy. He’s known what GaitSync is for almost a decade and he still gets it wrong. “That’s not what it—” I stop when I see him grinning. “Fuck you, Dom.”
“Hey. It worked, didn’t it? Got you to stop beating yourself up and get annoyed with me instead.”
I shake my head as we move over to the dugout. I’m moving slower than normal, my leg starting to ache from the twisting motions that were unavoidable when I was batting. It’s the same struggle I had when I was younger. I could play ball, but only for short stints. Thank fuck I had coaches willing to work with me, to adapt so I couldplay—even if it meant changing lineups on the fly when things would go wrong with my prosthetic.
GaitSync was meant to make all of that easier. To allow people like me to adjust their prosthesis in real time, without always having to go to their prosthetist for it. And most of the time, it works as intended. But I’ve been putting my leg through a lot lately, pushing myself in the gym and playing ball tonight. I could lie and say it’s just to deal with the ongoing stress of the renovations and revitalization of the team, but it’s not only that.
I sink down to the bench, and accept the water bottle Dom passes me, drinking from it deeply.
“So. Isla. How’sthatworking out?”
I toss my now empty water bottle at him. “It’s fine. She’s doing good work.”
Dom makes a sound, and my brows narrow into a hard stare. “What’s your problem with her? Don’t tell me you think she’s not good at her job.”
“I don’t have a problem with her work. I have a problem with the way you look at her when you think no one’s watching. She’s your fucking employee, Luca, not some random woman you can pursue without thinking of the potential consequences.”
My head falls back with a slight thud against the wall. “Trust me, I know. Nothing is gonna happen.”
“Good.” Dom slaps my shoulder. “Because we need her. A solid marketing plan is a huge element to our success. There’s a hell of a lot at stake if you chase her off.”
“Fuck off, Dom, I know.” My voice is harsh. He’s not saying anything I haven’t already told myself. “But Ican’t just stop being attracted to her. I can’t turn it off like a fucking light switch. She’s beautiful, and funny, and smart. And so damn off-limits.” I exhale slowly, letting my annoyance at my friend fade. “Besides, even if I wasn’t her boss, there’s no saying she’d be interested in a guy missing his fucking leg.”
Dom snorts. “Are you serious? Look, I had my reservations when you hired her. I still do. After all, she was the only damn candidate you interviewed. But she’s proving she can do the job. Even I can admit she’s a good person. And while I definitely don’t think you should be thinking about dating her, she doesn’t strike me as the kinda woman who would care about shit like that.”
I think back to what I’ve seen from Isla over the last few weeks. She’s worked hard, every minute of every hour she’s here. But she’s also kind, and generous, and sweet. I’ve watched her take the time to learn almost everyone’s name, from the players to the admin to the janitors. She brought in cookies the other day, including a special plate of nut-free ones for the outfielder who has a nut allergy. She always checks with everyone before going on a coffee or lunch run, and most often brings back an extra treat for whoever she’s picking up a drink for. She’s already made connections in the town, and they’re all positive. Just last week, I received a call from the Cedar Creek Chamber of Commerce, complimenting me on my initiative to have our team sponsor a Little League team.
I didn’t even know we were doing that. But it made my fucking heart swell to hear it.
Isla Forrester is a good person, through and through.
“It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, she’s here to do a job for us. And I’m not gonna jeopardize that just because I’m attracted to her.”
“I agree, Isla is off-limits. But what about dating someone else? I’m sure Coral could find someone to set you up with?” Dom asks before chugging the rest of his water.
“Your wife is a saint to put up with you, and a stellar woman. But I’m not letting her set me up,” I scoff. “Besides, even if I was interested, I don’t have time to date.”
