Page 38 of Wild Catch
Somehow I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I respond with my real idea: launching him into the moon.
“Honestly, none yet,” I admit with a sigh. “I spent the whole night reading comments on that video and my brain got fried.”
“Understandable.” And he does get it, he’s probably one of the few people who would. “Take it easy today while the big bosses agree on whether this is a go or not. But if they do, I expect you to bring your A-game.”
“In that case…” I narrow my eyes but decide to go for it. “Can I go take a nap in my car?” I motion at my head. “I’m gonna need this pretty thing to be in working condition if that’s what’s gonna happen.”
“Hmm.” He shrugs. “Well, the team shouldn’t be doing anything too exciting right now, so go ahead. I’ll give you two hours to freshen up.”
I rush forward and grab both of his hands, offering him bloodshot puppy eyes. “Thank you. You’re the bestest boss ever.”
Dave grins. “And don’t you forget it. Now go before anyone else figures out what’s up.”
The only detour I take is to grab my car keys from my cubicle, and hide them inside the waistband of my leggings. But I don’t feel bad about the fact that I’m going to get paid for napping. I’m sure that the higher ups will find a way to turn this into a campaign, and I’m just about to be busier than I’ve ever been.
CHAPTER14
LOGAN
Chief among the things I don’t wish to do on a rest day before an away series… is leaving my house.
That is, however, what I’m forced to do tonight because Kaplan is in town, and apparently he has news.
“Spill, man,” I grouch when we’ve been sitting at this hibachi restaurant on the east side of town for what feels like hours. In reality, he’s only been perusing the menu for ten minutes, but we both know he’s going to order the same thing he eats every time. This is one of his favorite joints in town, after all, for reasons that escape me.
“Hmm, someone’s impatient—Oh, they have cocktails now.” He smiles at the menu.
Clearly I chose the wrong damn agent. I should’ve gone for someone like me—direct and efficient, respectful of other people’s times and desire not to engage in small talk.
At least Kaplan always has the decency of booking a whole table for the two of us. The last thing I want is strangers hearing about sensitive trade business, especially because I’ve already pinpointed two different groups of people who seem to know me. Or of me. I don’t know if they keep glancing my way because they’re baseball fans or if it’s because I’ve gone viral on social media.
Judging by the way a blonde two tables to the right looks at me, I take it it’s the latter. I double check to make sure that I am, in fact, wearing clothes and am not accidentally spilling some goods somewhere. With the way she stares, you’d think I’m naked.
By my calculations, I’ll have to put up with this for an hour to an hour and a half before the dinner is done. But hopefully she and her party will be done sooner.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” a waitress materializes next to me and offers us a red lipstick smile. “Do you know what you would like to order or do you need a few more minutes?” To this, she looks at me like she’s expecting something.
I’m normally quick on the uptake but it takes me a second to understand that this woman, who is about as old as my mother, has that little glint of interest in her eye, complete with the heightened cheek color and all.
So… another social media fan, I guess.
“We’re ready,” I respond firmly, before my agent can keep playing his waiting game. “He’s gonna get the chicken teriyaki grill, and I’m getting the mixed grill, no rice, extra egg, double the meat portion, please.”
Her eyebrows quirk like I just dropped a double entendre on purpose.
Unlike a lot of players—hell,men—I’ve learned the lesson of not looking for what I haven’t lost. Between my weird family and a string of bad relationships, I’m officially done. My life has zero room for more drama—I’m closed for the business of dating.
But the problem with that is that the best deterrent would be to already have a girlfriend or wife. Chicken or the egg, I guess.
“Any drinks?” she asks after a second.
“Water for me, please,” I kind of mumble, wanting to be done with this whole night already.
“And a beer for me,” Kaplan chimes in from behind me.
“Excellent, I’ll be right back with those drinks.” After a moment of drinking me in like I’m the tall glass of water, she finally goes.
I swivel on my agent. “You better tell me before dessert or else I’m gonna fry your face on that grill up there.”
