Page 92 of Wild Hit
“So are we. Right, Dad?” Marty looks up at me like I better say yes or else she might test her swing on my car next time.
I just smile at her like,of course. No way I’m skipping out on this woman when she needs help.
When I want to be there for her.
Turning back to Audrey, I answer, “We’re both serious. We want you safe, Audrey. So… will you move in with us?”
CHAPTER 33
AUDREY
The worst part is that after all that, I had to come in to work the next day to help put out the PR fires that I caused.
They’re not so bad, though. We’re not losing any sponsorships—which is a bummer, because I’d really love to shred the contract between us and Henry’s company. We’re also trending on social media as the baseball team of love, which for some fans it’s cute, for others it’s a crime against the players’s focus, and for the haters it’s a great source of fiber for their diets as hatred organisms.
The players? They couldn’t care less. A couple that I ran into this morning greeted me withhey, bossbefore they kept walking toward the gym. And that was it. I don’t believe their focus of getting into the postseason has been impaired.
It has caused more work for everyone in the communications, marketing, and PR teams though. I get that an advanced warning would’ve been nice, but I’m also not in the mood to explain why everything had to be done so hastily.
However, my boss seems to think otherwise.
Knocking on the glass door of the meeting room, I wait until Karen looks up from her phone to acknowledge my existence. There’s no way that this is gonna be a nice little chat, so thelast thing I want to do is start it early by barging in. Sadly, she motions me in.
I drag my feet but there’s only so many seconds one can waste between a meeting room door and a chair. “Hi, Karen,” I greet noncommittally once we’re sitting face to face across a table, without the buffer of anyone else’s presence.
For the last few days we’ve survived pretty well by communication via email or Teams only. She commands in a rude way, I respond with thumbs up emoji, deliver the thing, and don’t hear back from her. It’s been a great deal.
Until now.
Maybe communications posting a family picture from the All-Star game where I’m described both as Miguel Machado’s wifeandthe team owner’s daughter was really too much.
While the players haven’t been interested in the news at all, the staff members have been. If stares could bore holes, I’d be a colander by now.
Karen’s proving my point by studying every one of my features like she has never really looked at me before. “Hmph, I guess you do have some resemblance.” She leans back and folds her arms.
Silence.
I wouldn’t say I’m uncomfortable, but I definitely want to go back to my cubicle covered in cozy little green plants. I regret not bringing over my apple green emotional support water bottle, so I can at least hydrate myself while I waste my time.
Finally, she can’t take the quiet any longer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
This is probably where the myth of blonde women not being smart came from, because I’m going to pretend like I don’t understand her. I just wanna hear her spell it out.
“Sorry, tell you what?” I tilt my head and widen my eyes a little.
Karen bites. “That Charlie Cox was your father. I would’ve never guessed it because you used the last name Winters for so long.”
Look at the point flying well over her head.
But also, since when does she talk to me in this sugary and calm way?
I wish I could find this funny, but it’s one of the smaller reasons why I didn’t want everyone to know. There will be mass amnesia about the fact that I applied to my job, interviewed for it, and was selected by a panel of people who were not yet in Dad’s payroll. I’ll never pretend like my great—and expensive—education didn’t give me an advantage, or that the way I look also buys me a lot more leniency than I deserve. But I also could’ve been just one more rich bum who graduates from an ivy league college without any effort, and then straight up inherits the family’s business.
None of that is gonna matter now, though. I knew it the second Dad swooped in and bought the team. It was just a matter of time before it all came out.
However, the obvious attempt at tact in her comment, and the nosy nature of it, are a great opportunity to get some justice for years of Karen’s corporate bullying. And I’m not above carpeting the diem, like Marty said.
“How would that have changed things, though?” I let that dangle uncomfortably in the air.
