Page 122 of Wild Catch
Ipace like a caged lioness who wants to fight for her lion. If said lion was a delusional man who can’t seem to understand that his place is next to her.
But at least I’ve now done everything I could, or almost. I’m in the operations area with my boss, his boss, the whole broadcasting team, PR, and the head manager. The game is finally over—which we won,ha!—and we can all finally leave our posts behind to gather together.
“In theory, it doesn’t matter if we try to clear Logan’s name or not,” says the head of operations, showing how out of touch with reality he is. “He’s going to be in the injured list and can serve his suspension during that timeframe.”
“It’s about the principle,” I spit back through gritted teeth. “Logan was provoked, so the incident wouldn’t have happened otherwise. And also—” My voice grows harder than flint. “Are we going to dismiss the slander that jerk threw my way just because I’m not a player?”
“Of course not,” Tom, my boss’s boss, responds right away. “There are rules about sportsmanship conduct and this falls squarely into that.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Thank you.”
“Also,” he smiles at me in amusement, and then turns his focus on the head of operations. “What kind of spineless cowards would we look like if we don’t do anything? All of marketing’s hard work will go down the drain.”
Murmurs arise around the meeting room but the one who snuffs them is Beau, the team manager. “Tactically speaking, we need to force a suspension on Ben Williams for our own benefit. The Riders would be out of superstars, giving us a series win.”
To my surprise, Audrey speaks then, “And depending on how long the suspension is, it may affect their season and make them slide down in the rankings even further.”
“Correct.” Beau bobs his head. “So I agree with Miss Mena here. We must submit the recording to the league and request an immediate suspension for unsportsmanlike conduct.”
“Would you be okay with that?” Dave asks me, turning all the attention our way. “Because one thing is everybody here present knowing what Williams said. You know we have your back. But once we submit the evidence to the league, everyone and their mom will find out.”
“Who cares?” I shrug, twisting my lip. “Everybody already knows that I date players. No one can talk even more crap about me than they already have. I don’t care, as long as this clears Logan and the team from culpability.”
“What a team player,” Julien Chen, director of broadcasting, says with a nod my way.
I press my lips tight. This guy’s recognition is all I’ve ever dreamed of, and I had no idea I’d get it in such weird terms.
But no one’s treating me like a floozy. In fact, it seems like they read Ben’s words as a big fat lie to provoke Logan, and it worked on him but not on them. Like maybe they respect me too well to read into it.
And it’s not like Logan doesn’t respect me and believed the horrid things that came out of Ben’s mouth. Instead, he was outraged on my behalf.
Like I am right now, after the cable from the league came with a fat fine and suspension for Logan.
He tried to defend me and now I’m doing the same. Because we’re in love with each other, damn it. Why can’t he realize it?
“Very well.” The head of operations relaxes in his chair. “Do I have everyone’s approval here to make this claim to the league?”
I lift my chin and am the first to answer. “Yes.”
“Aye,” Audrey says, representing PR since her boss is on vacation.
“Please,” Beau says, and one by one the rest of the department heads agree and the meeting is adjourned.
I sidle up with Audrey, waiting for the meeting room to clear out and whisper toward her, “I need a roommates meeting at home. With booze.”
“You got it.” She reaches for her phone in her back pocket and taps at it at the speed of light. “Hope’s already on the way home. I just gave her a heads up to get us prepped.”
*
And prep she did. By the time Audrey and I walk into our shared townhouse, Hope has set up a margarita pitcher on the coffee table with an assortment of snacks that aren’t precisely healthy for one in the morning. It’s exactly what I need.
“Be right back, I’m going to get comfortable,” I say to them, seeing that Hope is already in her baggiest, rattiest T-shirt and shorts. Audrey and I join her sans makeup, manes in messy buns, and equally unflattering attires.
Hope greets us with full cups and well into a bag of snacks from Trader Joe’s. “Cheers—to men being hopeless buffoons,” she says, lifting her cup.
“Cheers!” I exclaim with the same feigned enthusiasm I had to adopt on stage in beauty pageants. Taking a hearty sip, I join her on the corner of my couch and Audrey takes her armchair. “I’m starting to question why I even bother with them.” I reach for a bag of dried cheese bites.
“I would tell you to be like me and swear off men, but I think you’re already too invested in a certain catcher.” Audrey looks at me over the rim of her cup.
