Page 85 of Wild Hit
The behind the scenes of an All-Star game is even more of a circus than a normal one, and sometimes even more than a World Series, depending on the egos and the grudges that get intermingled here. Williams isn’t the only guy who wishes for me to trip on my shoelaces. One of the guys I’ll duke it out against in the home run derby later is giving me some lip as we pass him by. Most of the players are respectful of each other but some—like this dude, who is actually older than me—have the mentality of an elementary school bully.
What’s funny, though, is that in front of the cameras they look like the picture of wholesomeness. But since I ignore them, they like to circulate rumors that I’m the bad apple. That I’m rude and cocky.
And yeah, I kinda am. I don’t clock people who have no say in my life. Let’s see if Charlie Cox is gonna learn that lesson today.
This show of course also includes executives, managers, and some of the owners from the teams that are represented. Just as I’d like to be able to join Marty and Audrey in the stands, or to still be meeting the future players and fans in line, I’m forced to be a professional and follow the staff guy to the area with the powers that be, where the cheapest snack is caviar.
Which by the way, is incredibly gross and I’ll take no questions about it.
Of course the owners are hanging out by themselves behind closed doors. Many of them stop and stare at my arrival, and the kid guiding me through the maze visibly grows smaller. My betis that this is why he’s so nervous, because dealing with the ultra rich isn’t for the faint of heart.
Of course, Charlie Cox isn’t even mingling among them. He’s in an even more private room, drinking from a glass, staring out at the stadium as it continues to fill up before the game, and brushing his twirly mustache like the villain of a cartoon from the 1940s.
“There you are,” he says in what frankly is an ominous voice. He looks at the young staffer and waves him off, like this is happening in a movie. Once we’re alone in the private balcony, he says, “We need to talk.”
I wish I could ignore him too. Alas.
Folding my arms, I offer no further sign of interest in what he has to say.
I don’t know him very well, and I don’t need to. What he’s done and also attempted to do to his own daughter already put him in a specific category for me. The no bueno kind.
He sets the glass down on the bar by the window with the great view, leaning against it to face me. “This conversation has been long overdue. However, I’ve been occupied with other matters, so I will get to the point.”
I stare. Does he realize that that was quite a long preamble already?
“What you did to my daughter raises suspicions.”
Luckily for the both of us, I’m pretty good at not giving away what I’m really thinking or feeling. It’s a job hazard of being a baseball player. I do itch to grab onto the crucifix and the married ring at my neck, though.
“So, tell me the truth. Even if I don’t like it, I will prefer it than discovering you lied. And trust me, I’m not above suspending you the rest of the season for it.”
The threat is there, clear as the bright sky of A-Town where this All-Star game is happening. I would not enjoy having tolawyer up to fight an unjust suspension. But no one who has developed the skill of hitting a hard ball flying at your face at a hundred miles per hour, and making it fly off even faster, is ever a coward.
Since I give him nothing, he finally gets to the point, “Did you marry my daughter for her inheritance?”
I fully crack with a “huh?”
The old man’s forehead wrinkles in something that is either anger, or confusion, or a child of the two. “You and I know that Audrey’s getting the team in her trust fund, and I would have never—and let’s make that very clear—everchosen you to manage it for her. That honor was to be for Henry Vos, who is a true and tried businessman. Not to someone who only knows how to swing a big stick and already has a child from another woman.”
Consider my hackles raised now.
“First of all, no. I had no idea.” I wrinkle my face in disgust. “Second, why would you think Audrey’s fortune should be managed by a guy?”
Silence.
Pure, complete silence that I break with a snort.
“I suppose since you’re one and you’ve been managing her inheritance until now, you may think that’s the way of the world and that she has no say in it. But trust me, she’s more than capable—my daughter’s now good at division because of Audrey. And guess what too?”
Charlie Cox frowns. “What?”
“Audrey would be way better focused to manage her assets brilliantly if you treating her like a puppet didn’t take up so much room in her brain.”
I loosen up and take one step closer that makes him visibly uncomfortable. I guess it’s also because I’m a head taller and a few pounds of muscle bigger.
“I’m speaking as a girl dad to another girl dad.” I jab him in the chest moderately, but he stiffens in a way you’d think I almost punched him. “Unless you don’t want them to become their best selves, you don’t raise them by manipulating them.”
That makes him inhale a sharp breath. Like maybe I just hit a nerve. Like maybe this is the first time someone has presented this concept to this rich, powerful, and selfish man.
