Page 46 of The Show

Decker slapped me on the back. “You’ll will, dude. You will.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

Another huge roar erupted from the crowd; a second home run. I wasn’t sure how I felt about The Dodgers winning. I wasn’t sure how far it would go to influence Jupiter’s decision.

“When are you flying home?”

“Tomorrow. Got another meeting at Casa Reeves, then heading straight to the plane.”

He took a long sip of his beer. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Just you and Lowe.” His head bobbed as he rolled his lip, and I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What, Deck?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her is all, and now you’re spending all this time together… just the two of you…” His raised eyebrows finished the rest of his sentence.

I shot a worried side-eye past him to where Dylan and Lowe were, but they were paying no attention to anything we’d said. Dylan was currently laughing and pointing to Chris Martin, The Dodgers’ pitcher, whose face was displayed larger than life on the Jumbotron. It was no accident that I’d put Dylan and Decker in between Lowe and me. It hadn’t been that long ago that Rafe and Beulah had been caught out on the kiss cam; I wasn’t about to let the same mistake happen here.

“Keep your voice down!” I hissed. “I’m not looking at her like anything. It wasn’t my idea to have her help me, remember! It was everyone else’s…”

He huffed a smug laugh that basically said I was full of shit. “Yeah, okay.”

“Have you said anything to Dylan?” I managed to get out through gritted teeth and narrowed my eyes at him.

He shook his head. “Nope. Nothing to tell, right?”

“Exactly… and I would appreciate if you could keep it like that.”

“Will do, on the condition that I get the film rights to the story of you reviving a failing baseball team.”

I laughed loud and genuinely, even managing to drown out the noisy yapping of the group in front of us. “You are getting way ahead of yourself, my friend, but you have yourself a deal. I get to choose who plays me though.”

“Done.” He held his hand out and I shook it.

Dylan’s head peered round her husband. “What are you two gossiping about?”

“We’re just betting on whether Penn here, will cry when he wins the World Series. I’m saying like a baby.” Decker winked at me and I dropped my head with a shake, but I was thankful he’d kept my secret. Not that I’d admit to it even under the most strenuous of torture. My love for Lowe would live and die with me - plus Rafe and Murray.

“I’ll take that bet! He’ll be bawling so much he won’t be able to lift it!” she cackled. “He’ll crumple under the emotional weight.”

“Hey!” I nudged her, full of indignation. “I am capable of keeping my shit together, but I’m not denying I might leak a few droplets.”

Fuck that. Now Decker had brought it up, I might even put some money on it, too. I would cry like a baby. Even the thought of it now was making my eyes hot and my throat scratchy. The fucking Commissioner’s Trophy… I’d have one made for every room I owned, just so I could see it all the time.

In an uncharacteristic move for Dylan, she shifted past Decker and put her arm around me, squeezing tight. “Dad would be proud of you, Penny.”

The lump in my throat grew until I had to cough it down, finishing with a loud sniff.

“Oh yeah, he’s definitely gonna cry,” she snorted.

“Fuck off, Dyl.” My sisters might still like to tease me, but they always seemed to forget that I was now a lot bigger than them. I pulled her into a headlock and rubbed her head until she squealed loudly enough to burst any eardrums in the vicinity.

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