Page 40 of Wild Catch
“Uh, only because you’re the best damn catcher in the league right now?”
“If so, why did I only get offers from the wrong locations?”
“The—What?” He does a double take. “These are the three best teams in the country right now.”
“Oh, great.” I lean back on my chair, now fully annoyed because with that hint I know which California team the offer is from. “The Eagles, the Riders, and the stinking San Francisco Goldens are the very last teams I want to play for.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so before I started negotiations?” He throws his hands in the air.
“Fried rice,” the chef announces, placing a bowl in front of Kaplan.
“Thank you,” my agent and I say in unison, with equal amounts of annoyance.
“You didn’t ask,” I fire back sounding like a five-year-old.
“Fine, I will ask now. What do you have against those teams?” Kaplan scrunches up his face, also like a five-year-old.
Placing my elbows on the table, I drop my face in my hands and sigh. “Because.”
“Just because?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m your business partner, Logan. I’m gonna need more than just ‘cause.”
“Here’s why…” I lift my head and pin him with a glare. “I refuse to go back.”
“Let’s say that rules out the Eagles, but not the other two.”
“Oh, but it does.” I frown even more. “I refuse to form a battery with that prick Williams again, and I refuse—categorically, I might add—to go back to my hometown.”
Kaplan doesn’t know the full extent of my family drama, only that I’m not in the best terms with any of them. But I can see him put two and two in real time. “Ah.”
“Yeah,ah.”
“Sautéed vegetables.” The chef puts a hefty bowl of broccoli, carrots, onions, mushrooms, baby corn, and water chestnut in front of me. As annoyed as I’ve been, I hadn’t noticed my hunger until this moment. My stomach gives out a great roar and I grab my chopsticks to start working on the bowl.
Kaplan also turns to his rice. “This will set back the timeline. We may not make it in time for the deadline.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“I thought the idea was to trade ASAP?”
“Not to the wrong, teams, no.”
He grunts. I grunt right back. We tuck into our food with surprising gusto for a business meeting that has gone so sour.
“Any other teams you absolutely cannot consider?” he asks after a while.
“No, literally those three.”
It’s not a lie. It’s kind of funny how those teams are even interested. The Riders and Goldens don’t really surprise me, but the Eagles? I distinctly remember the manager spitting on the ground after I left the premises for the last time. It almost smells like Lewis is the one trying to pull strings behind the scenes. He’d love nothing more than to have me in his hands again, especially now that I could make him the best damn pitcher in the league.
I’d rather eat my sweaty jockstrap. Or even keep playing with Cade Starr.
At least the food is decent, but it doesn’t compensate for how much of a waste this meeting has been. I make sure to tip both the flirty waitress and the chef exceedingly for putting up with my shit all night.
Unfortunately, the other flirty woman and her party are leaving the restaurant at the same time as Kaplan and I.
