Page 4 of Pitcher Us
As Adam’s hands leave my shoulders, I roll them back, standing a little straighter. “I got this,” I whisper. “Wait, what’s his name again?”
“Olsson. Jim Olsson.” Adam laughs before clapping my back, which causes me to take an involuntary step forward. “Text me when you’re done. I’m going to go explore my new office until then.”
That makes me laugh a little bit. “Isn’t this whole place your office?”
“Yeah, isn’t that fucking cool?”
I shake my head as I take another deep breath.
I can do hard things…I’ve done harder.
Okay, I’m…kind of ready. Twisting the knob to the office door, I step in, and at first all I can see is the field. Windows from the ceiling to the floor make up the wall that overlooks the entire stadium. It’s gorgeous and beyond massive. The stadium in Seattle was nice, but this one is incredible.
“Wow,” I mumble.
“Pretty cool, right?” A female voice says off to the side.
Swallowing my startled yelp, I try to come off as poised as the girl my parents tried to force me to be. Adam might have told me to throw all those thoughts out the window, but old habits aren’t that easy to kick.
Turning toward the voice, I find a woman, probably early thirties, who has to be the complete opposite of me—beautiful sleek black hair and porcelain skin. She looks so refined in her pencil skirt and silk blouse.
“It’s quite the view. I imagine it makes the workday a little less dull.” I smile as I hold out my hand. “I’m Callie Reyer. I’m here to interview for the photographer opening.”
I get a quick glance from head to toe that I’m not really sure how to interpret. If my father saw me even thinking about an interview in jeans and a white button up, he’d have an aneurysm. My first instinct is to apologize, but this was not my plan. I didn’t anticipate an interview for today—surely they can understand that.
Finally giving me a half smile, she says, “I’m Shannon, Mr. Olsson’s secretary. He’s been waiting for you. Follow me.” She clicks her heels as she turns and I begin to feel I’ve lost beforeI’ve even started but letting her undermine my confidence won’t help me.
I can do hard things…I've done harder.
Following behind Shannon, I repeat my mantra with deep breaths.
“Well, you must be Callie Reyer.” A man stands from behind his desk as we walk in. His smile is wide, and a little weight falls off my shoulders when I realize Mr. Olsson is wearing jeans and a Blues t-shirt. “I told Adam not to force you out here today, but he was insistent that he had the right person for this job.”
Ah, freaking Adam. Smiling through my internal curse to my brother, I laugh. “Yes, patience isn’t exactly his virtue, but everyone needs a pusher in their life, don’t ya think?”
“That they do.” Stretching out his hand for a shake, he says, “Jim Olsson.”
“Callie,” I say as I return his hand but then shake my head. “We established that already.” A nervous laughter escapes me.
“I assumed. You were just confirming.” Mr. Olsson sits back in his chair and motions for me to take a seat. “I imagine your brother filled you in on the current situation, so there’s no need to get into those details. Adam said you were the perfect fit for the job, let’s focus on that.”
Perfect fit.Damn, Adam, pressure much?
I might not have a ton of sports pictures ready, but if I’m feeling bold, I’ve got some incredible shots that can back my brother up.
“Well, I could sit here and tell you all the reasons why I think I would be great at this job, but nothing quite shows that I’m capable as actual proof.”
Chapter 3
Will
One benefit of this trade happening in the off season is now we have time—time to settle in and regroup before the season starts.
The negative—I got traded with fucking Adam ‘no chill’ Reyer. The pounding on my hotel door at seven in the morning was both unwelcomed and poorly received. I don’t really mind early mornings, but would it kill the guy to just take a beat?
Adam and his sister dragged me out to walk to this apartment complex that Olsson’s secretary mentioned. Apparently, he called around and this one happened to be four blocks down from our hotel. But by block two I was beyond annoyed.
Callie’s teeth chatter as she wraps her arms around herself, clearly cold. Who cares if it is only four blocks away? I know how much we get paid, an Uber is practically pocket change.
