Page 93 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
ChapterTwenty-Nine
SOPHIE
November 6, 2022
“Are you ready?” Mom asks as we start walking toward the door that leads out into Miami’s stadium. “We can still sit up in the suite.”
“I’m so ready,” I say, smiling. “Everyone was cool in L.A. for the last game. I think Seb’s tweets helped a little bit.”
“Well,” she says slowly. “Not everyone.”
I shrug. “It was a lot better, though. No one was yelling stuff at me at least. I’m done hiding. I’m going to sit in the box seats and watch my husband play baseball. The haters can bring it. I don’t even care anymore.”
As we walk to the seats, the fans in our section start stirring. I glance to the left. Everyone seems to be smiling at me or ignoring me. It’s a start. I look to the right to see an entire section of familiar faces.
“Oh, look,” Maisie says, “you’re not wearing your Unabomber costume. I can see your entire face.”
Maisie, Ryan, and the entire Blitzen crew are sitting about twenty rows behind my seats.
“Did Seb get these tickets for you?” I point at Butch and Mason. “I told him I didn’t want bodyguards.”
Butch nods his head back to Sam who’s sitting in the row behind him. “Seb didn’t get these seats for us. Sam’s girlfriend did.”
“Really?” I raise my eyebrows. “Sam, do you have a girlfriend now?”
Millie puts her arm around him and lays her head on his shoulder. “He has so many girlfriends.”
“Yes, he does.” Elle mimics her action from the other side of him.
Sam puts his arms around Millie and Elle—his sweet face beaming with joy. “I have enough love to go around. Sophie, do you want to sit with us?”
“I would love to sit with you, but I promised our parents I would sit with them. I better get down there,” I say, pointing to where Dad’s waving at me. I point at Mason and Butch. “No interfering if someone tries to get to me. I have to learn to fend for myself.”
“Okay, killer. Do your thing,” Butch says. “There’s no pool here, though. Maybe you can tackle them onto the field. Just make sure you land on top of them so they take the brunt of the fall.”
“Noted. Thanks for the tip,” I say. “Enjoy the game. Party at our house after if we win tonight.”
As I keep walking down the stairs to my seat, people are taking pictures of me, but no one’s saying anything. I think I’m in the clear when a burly, bald man stands up and points at me.
“Hey, Sophie,” he says, a thick Brooklyn accent pouring out of his mouth. “I saw Seb’s Twitter stuff the other day. It pissed me off. I have a wife and three daughters. If anyone came after them, I’d feel the same way he does. If you have any trouble tonight, just yell out my name and I’ll take care of them. I’m Bob, by the way.”
“Thanks, Bob,” I say, stopping to give him a fist bump. “I appreciate the backup.”
“My pleasure. Seb’s my second favorite player ever.”
“Oh yeah?” I smile at him. “What does he have to do to move into that number one spot?”
Bob laughs. “Die and come back as Derek Jeter.”
“Fair enough. I’ll let him know.”
“Hey, Sophie.” Another guy stands up. He looks at Bob. “My name’s Tariq. I’m not quite as big as Bob, but I’m a middle-school teacher. If I can deal with those little assholes all day, I can take care of anyone who tries to get at you. Just let me know what you need. Not all of us are idiots. Most of us just want to watch the game.”
“Thanks, Tariq,” I say, nodding. “That means a lot to me.”
A woman stands up in front of him and holds up her hand to show me her manicure. “I’m Bonnie. I’m old and weak, but I have daggers for nails. If Tariq and Bob get them down, I’ll absolutely claw their eyes out.”
“Nice. Now I’m kind of hoping someone attacks me so I can witness that.”
