Page 35 of Pitcher Us
“Hmm, well, thank you for the reminder.” I put on my best fake smile for both her and my sake. I knew image was a big deal to Olsson, but I didn’t really think about this being an issue. It wasn’t ever brought up during my onboarding, but I could have zoned out during that part. I guess I should be grateful that it gives me a reason to shut the door on the idea of a relationshipwith Will. But why does it also feel like my heart is in my stomach?
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Mr. Anderson and I were just talking about today’s agenda. I have no interest in fraternizing with the players.”
…Kind of.
“Great!” Her nose and eyebrows crinkle for a moment at my dramatic response. Maybe I'm in the wrong here, but it wouldn’t have killed her to choose her wording differently. A simple, “Hey, as employees we’re not allowed to date the baseball players on this team. Just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page since this is your first day.” But no, this is precisely what I mean. Condescending.
“Should we go in now?” I ask.
Blinking away her snarky facial expression, she smiles politely. “Yes, I’m glad we cleared the air.”
“Me too!” I say at an usually high pitch. We’re off to a great start.
Letting Shannon go in front of me, I take a deep breath to mentally prepare myself for this day one last time.
I can do this. I can do hard things.
We walk into the massive space with black turf flooring. In the back, large nets are pulled out to form batting cages. Off to the side there is an area that mimics a bullpen, then there’s this big open space that has lines and bases—as if this were a real field—where all of the players are warming up now.
Finding Will out of the twenty-six players is easy. Not because I’m looking for him, but because he’s warming up a good ten feet away from everyone else. Okay, I might have been looking for him. A little. His gaze connects with mine, so I turn away quickly, looking for a good place to set my stuff.
Up first on today’s agenda is getting some good behind-the-scenes content for our social media and photos for ourwebsite. I’ve spent the past two weeks deep-diving fun ideas and researching ways to make the fans feel more connected to this new team.
“Hey, look who’s here.” Beck’s chipper voice comes from behind me.
“It’s almost like they pay me to be here.” I chuckle. The cocky first baseman appears to be a flirt, but really I think it’s just his M.O. to be personable and happy. Plus, there’s no real attraction there between us. With his red hair, he looks more like my brother than Adam does.
“It’s about damn time we hired someone decent for this position. We needed another redhead on the team.”
Playfully rolling my eyes, I sit down on the turf and pull my bag in front of me. “Especially one without your ego.”
“You wound me. Here I was thinking this special connection would get me extra publicity time.”
“If anyone’s getting extra time, it’s me,” Adam says as he comes up, plopping down in front of me.
“I’m pretty sure that would be grounds for nepotism.” Tripp comes to the other side of Beck and now all three are sitting across from me.
I start pulling out all of my stuff to get organized. “Okay, you guys know I’m not the team’s publicist, right?”
My brother cocks an eyebrow. “Aren’t you, though? You’ve been researching ways to make our online presence more appealing. I’ve barely gotten you to look up from your computer for three weeks.”
Okay, that’s fair. “My job is technically just to take photos of you guys. The website and social media are part of that, but it stops there. You guys can talk to Shannon about any extra media time.”
“But talking to you is way more appealing,” one of the team’s new rookies says as he sits next to Adam.
Adam smacks his shoulder. “Um, hello, she’s my sister.”
I want to say the rookie’s name is Charlie—left fielder, maybe. This is his first season in the major leagues if I’m placing him correctly. I’ve tried to remember the roster, and I think I have the “starting nine” nailed down but some of the guys I still get confused.
“It was a compliment!” possibly-Charlie responds.
“Does this mean we can’t talk to your sister, Reyer?” another player says walking up. “Can’t you separate work from personal life?”
“Doesn’t matter. You guys are all wasting your time. Cals and I have this connection. I’m going to be getting the most camera time.” Beck smirks and gives me a wink.
I fear my eyes might roll out of my head today—fucking men. Looking around, I see I’m surrounded by them. More than half the team is now circled around me—sitting and standing, and all talking about me.
“Callie knows what the people want. Let her decide who’s best for the fans.”
