Page 119 of The Show

I smiled. “You’re a physicist. You work in velocity, science, objects flying through the air… I want you to come to The New York Lions as Head of Baseball Science.”

She turned her nose up at me in derision.

“Or we can work on that title. Pick one you’re happy with… I want you to come and look at my players; look at how they hit the ball, how they throw the ball. I want you to make them better at both. I’ll pay you a million dollars for the first year, with a million bonus if you get us in the top five of the National League. A five mil bonus if you get us to the World Series in two years. And another five if we win.”

“That’s a lot of faith in science, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Aren’t you a rocket scientist? If you can get a rocket into space, you can surely help me with what a baseball does,” I shot back.

“Touché.” She relaxed for the first time since she’d walked in, which I could only take as a good sign.

“Do you know anything about baseball?”

The soft skin under her eye twitched faintly. “No, it’s been a long time since I had anything to do with baseball.”

“Oh, really?” I raised my eyebrow, wondering if I was about to get a story about Jupiter. “Anything you want to share?”

She stiffened. “Not with you.”

“Fair enough.” I sat back, trying to relax. “Marnie, I want you to come to The Lions. I want you to build a team with me. It might not be as exciting as space, but I can promise you it won’t be boring. Baseball is the best thing in the entire world. Come for a year. If you don’t like it then you can leave, no hard feelings. But again, I promise you won’t want to.”

She picked up the sugar jar from the table and started pouring it out. I looked around making sure no one could see us, or a barista wasn’t about to call us out for making a mess.

“Do you know what it’s like to study the physics of the universe, Mr. Shepherd?” She was separating out the individual grains of sugar as she spoke; I didn’t reply because it seemed rhetorical. And I was also certain she knew I didn’t. “It’s vast. Vaster than vast. We will never know the true size of it in our lifetime, and ninety-nine percent of people will only ever experience it by looking up at a star-filled night sky. All that space, all those billions of people, all that probability…” she trailed off.

I waited. I wasn’t sure if she was done or not. But when her eyes shot up to mine, there was something I understood behind those thick black frames.

Regret. Hurt. Sadness.

“Do you believe in true love?”

My mind automatically flicked to Lowe, not that she’d traveled far from my mind since I’d left New York. Or since I’d left her office. Or since I’d met her for the first time. She was always on my mind.

Always.

“Yes. I do.” I replied honestly. Lowe was my true love, whether I was hers or not. She was mine, and always would be.

“I don’t mean being in love. I mean that one person who owns your soul.”

“No, I understand. I believe in it.”

I didn’t know if she realized my connection to Jupiter or if she was always this cryptic, but I assumed that he was exactly who was on her mind as she stared blanky at the piles of sugar she’d made.

She took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she did, then stood. “Okay. I’ll come to New York. I have a project to tie up here and I have some personal matters to finalize. I will be available in four to five months.”

I wasn’t sure what I’d expected to come of today, but I definitely hadn’t thought I’d be in Houston talking to Marnie Matthews. I’d rather she was starting next week, but four to five months would take us up to Spring Training, which I could certainly work with.

I stood up and held my hand out. “You have a deal. My lawyers will be in touch with a formal job offer detailing what we’ve talked about. I will also include relocation expenses.”

“Thank you.”

“No, Marnie, thank you. You’ve no idea.” I grinned.

I followed her out. The night sky was now in full force, the glow from the Johnson Space Centre creating a golden halo in the distance.

My driver was waiting where he’d dropped me. “Can I offer you a ride to wherever you need it?”

“No, I have my car, but thank you.” She stared at me then reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a tiny pair of binoculars and unfolded them. She pointed to the sky, to the left of where we were standing. “Look up there. See that bright dot? The brightest one to the left of the moon?”

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