Page 25 of Fair Ball

And it feels like I won the jackpot.

At the field, he takes time to introduce me to people—security, some of the other players hanging around in the hall, and one or two of the front office people, including Wendy, the one who will be “taking care of all my needs.”

But I don’t have needs.

I am Austin’s assistant.

I take care of his needs.

Except he shoos me out of the office and stays with her a moment, saying what I think I hear as “Whatever she wants…”

I spend a few hours becoming familiar with the stadium, making friends with the sanitation workers and ticket takers. They arrive early and leave late and probably don’t receive much appreciation, so I am sure to thank them all after I purchase a new T-shirt to change into then buy a hot dog before taking my seat behind the third base line and the Thunder’s dugout to watch warm-ups.

For being the middle of a workday, I’m surprised at the number of people here, even for a team with a losing record. I always carry earplugs with me and stick a pair in my ears to block some of the sounds of fans shouting around me. But their excitement does eventually rub off on me, and I jump up to cheer when the team takes the field.

Austin’s uniform fits him like a glove, and even though his eyes are hidden beneath the brim of his baseball cap, I imagine they are zeroed in on the catcher, a silent communication passing between them as he strikes out the first batter.

And then the second.

And the third.

As the Thunder players jog off the field, I stand and cheer right along with everyone else, waving wildly in case Austin can see me, and just as he’s about to duck into the dugout, he stops, tips his head up, and points his finger right at me.

Someone behind me taps me on the shoulder. “You know him?”

“I’m his assistant.”

“More like his good luck charm. You better come back to every game. Maybe we’ll win some this season.”

I blow out a breath. Because the last thing I bring around is good luck.

The Thunder lose 7-5.

CHAPTER 8

AUSTIN

It’s our last game in Chicago. After playing in Washington, we headed to the Windy City, where I pitched yesterday for a win. Now, the team’s getting ready for the last game, and since I’m not under pressure, I take my time dressing. Even check my cell phone.

I’ve never cared before to have it close to me in the locker room, but with Millie’s text updates, I’ve become attached, a habit forming that I know will be impossible to break. With my elbows on my knees and my head bent over, I press play on the latest video she sent.

Her face fills the screen, dimple winking as she gives me her usual greeting. “Hey, boss. I know I messaged you earlier about your game yesterday, but Noah wanted me to let you know that he was excited about your win. I let him stay up to watch. He’s probably exhausted, and I’m a terrible mom…”

I shake my head at the assertion. She is as far from a terrible mom as a person could get. But she obviously doesn’t see herself as clearly as I do.

“He told me to tell you he’s been working on his two-seam. I know that’s a type of pitch, but… It sounds kind of dirty, doesn’t it? I read this Jurassic Park fan fiction about dinosaur shifters, and their anatomy is—No.”

I rub the side of my fist over my mouth as she waves her hands, cheeks blushing furiously.

“No, no, never mind. That’s weird. You’re my boss. I’m your assistant. We don’t talk about the erotica I’m reading. I mean…” She sighs and places her hands on either side of her face and closes her eyes for a few moments, shoulders hunched like she’s given up whatever imaginary fight she thought she’d be having with me.

When, actually, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Ever heard.

With another breath, she opens her brown eyes and lifts her hands in a What can you do? gesture. “I read Jurassic Park erotica, but that doesn’t diminish who I am. Reading about a dinosaur shifter finding his human mate and the dirty sex they have doesn’t take away from my intelligence. In fact, I think it makes me smarter. More empathetic.”

And it makes me imagine wildly inappropriate ideas about her as she goes on and on about the positive effects of reading erotica.

Again, I’m not arguing. Wouldn’t dare dream of it.