Page 223 of Vegas Heat

Nope.

That’s when Holden Thatcher, one of our pitchers signed during free agency, steps forward. “I’ve got this, man. I’ll keep an eye on things here while you’re gone.”

I look to him gratefully, and I realize he may be the only guy here aside from me who didn’t make a fool out of himself during that parade. “Thank you.”

I hop in my truck and take off for the jail where AJ is being processed wishing this day would just fucking come to an end already.

CHAPTER 11: GABBY

“Hey,” I answer after I see Cooper calling me. “Where are you?”

“On my way to bail out AJ Winters.” His tone is filled with disgust.

“What?” I screech. “Why?” From my float, everything seemed to go off great. We were five or six floats in front of the team bus, and I couldn’t see them from where I was. “What happened?”

“It was a disaster, Gabby,” he says. “I’m so sorry these assholes ruined your parade.”

“They ruined it?” I ask.

“Fucking Brewer and Ross were tossing alcohol out to the crowd and getting women to flash them. Somehow guys on the first floor of our bus were pulling women out of the crowd, and I guess AJ pulled the wrong woman because he was making out with her and some beast of a guy didn’t like it and stormed the bus to give him a piece of his mind. AJ threw the first punch and the cops hauled them both off when we got back to the parking lot.”

“Oh my God, Cooper! I didn’t know any of that!” I realize there’s loud panic in my voice, but this was not what I was expecting.

I thought everything went fine.

Instead…I’m going to have to figure out how the hell to explain this to my father, who most certainly will see any news there is to see from his hospital bed where he’s supposed to be recovering.

I’m on Joanie’s computer, and I pull open a browser and type in a search. “Shit,” I mutter when I see results alreadypopulating. I force my brain to focus. How the hell can we fix this? “I think I have an idea to mitigate the damage. When will you be back?”

“However long this takes. Hopefully before the dinner,” he says. “Holden said he’d keep an eye on the boys.”

“I’ll take care of things here. Don’t worry, okay?”

“Thanks, Gabby,” he says, and his voice is filled with relief.

“I love you,” I say softly, and he says it back before he cuts the call.

I grab Justin and race down to the clubhouse without thinking twice—without allowing myself to get nervous for what I’m about to do. I find a whole bunch of hot baseball players laughing or talking or playing poker or video games. Others are just sitting around scrolling their phones, but in general it’s low-key in here. Not everyone is here since some are getting their player photos taken and others are filling out paperwork, but there are enough in here for me to get the message across.

I put my fingers between my lips and blow a loud-ass whistle the way my dad taught me when I first moved to Vegas.

The room fades into quiet slowly as the attention turns to me, and with a shaky voice, I begin a speech I haven’t planned. “Hi everyone. We met upstairs, but in case you forgot, I’m Gabby…uh, I’m Troy Bodine’s daughter. I have to tell you, he’d be pretty disappointed with your behavior at today’s parade if he was here, and I’m going to need you to figure out how to fix what you’ve done.”

The room remains silent.

“I think a good first step might be allowing me to film you explaining why you’re excited to be here playing for the Heat. A good second step would be selecting a leader who can put something together for my father to let him know you’re here thinking about him and wishing he was here as part of the welcome committee. And finally, I’ll be putting together a listof community outreach events. You can swing by the marketing department to sign-up, or once you’ve all been set up on the Heat email system, you can sign up from there. Any questions?”

The room remains silent.

“I’m going into the weight room. There’s a backdrop there where you can tell me why you’re happy to be here with the Vegas Heat. I’ll set up shop in there for the next hour, and then I’ll be working to splice together a video to try to mitigate some of the damage you’ve done.” I shake my head and purse my lips as I walk out of the room, and it’s silent as I leave.

Still, just before the door closes behind me, I swear I hear, “Damn, that girl got some sass for such a fine little package.”

I can’t help a huge grin at Justin, who high-fives me.

“They aren’t wrong,” he says with a laugh. “You are pretty damn sassy.”

“Don’t forget damn fine in this little package.” I toss my hair haughtily over my shoulder and head over to the weight room to set up my phone to grab some footage.

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