Page 48 of Curveball

“Great, Coach Billie. Arizona caught for me for the first seventeen years that I played, all the way through college. Throwing to her again is like coming home. She spoiled me. I had the best in the business for so long. I’m just happy to have her back.”

Arizona rolls her eyes as she approaches. “I just catch the ball. You’re the one who throws the unhittable pitches.”

Coach Billie slowly nods. “You guys have chemistry, don’t you?”

I nod enthusiastically. “We sure do. You can’t manufacture what we have together.”

Her eyes toggle between us. “I’m not an ego coach, and I’m not a control freak. I know almost all coaches call pitch signals, but I doubt there’s anyone who could call your games better than Arizona.”

I shrug. “Yep. No one knows my game better than her and my mom.”

She smiles. “Right. You’re June St. James’s daughter. I watched your mom play. She was one of the best ever and then she kind of fell off the map after the Olympics. What happened to her?”

“I happened.”

She lets out a laugh. “I suppose pitching and pregnancy don’t mix.”

“Nope. She coached us for a long time and still coaches at our old high school. I learned everything I know from her.”

“I bet.” She turns to Arizona. “I’m going to let you call her games.”

Arizona’s face lights up. Every catcher in the world wantsto call pitches, but few are ever given that vote of confidence by their coaches. You have to have a special mind for the game to be able to do that. It’s the right decision given our history together, but most coaches wouldn’t give up that control.

Arizona pumps her fist. “Thanks, Coach Billie.”

“We’ll see how it goes.”

“I won’t let you down.”

Coach Billie walks away. Arizona and I practically jump up and down in excitement. “Rip, can you believe this?”

Before I can answer, one of the team owners, Reagan Daulton, approaches us. She’s dressed like a fancy businesswoman in a navy-blue pantsuit and expensive shoes, though she doesn’t let it bother her as she walks through the dusty field.

Arizona has already met her, but I haven’t. She smiles at Arizona. “How are practices going?”

Arizona responds, “Great. Have you met Ripley St. James?”

She shakes her head and holds out her hand with a genuine smile on her pretty face. “I’m Reagan Daulton. Welcome to Philly. We’re ecstatic to have you here.”

I hesitate, looking at my dirty hand, but she grabs it anyway. “I’m not prissy. I don’t mind getting my hands a little dirty.” She winks at me.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Daulton—”

“Reagan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Reagan. Thank you for the opportunity.” I’m not only playing with my besties, but she’s paying me double my previous salary.

“It’s me who should thank you. You’re the best pitcher around, and we’re lucky to have you here.” She turns to Arizona. “Can we chat for a minute?”

Arizona nods in my direction. “I know I wasn’t supposedto tell anyone, but Ripley knows about my PR relationship with Layton. She’s been my ride-or-die since we were five years old. You can trust her.”

I make a show of zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

Reagan sighs. “We can’t let this get out. A PR dream can turn into a PR nightmare faster than my ex-boyfriend’s premature ejaculation.”

Arizona and I giggle.

Nodding, I assure her, “I understand. No one will hear it from me. For what it’s worth, I know my best friend. She’s a sister to me. I would have figured it out.”

---