Page 86 of All For You
With little argument, she nodded and scooted down the hall. Suddenly, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder. Tom Sung, the general manager and hall-of-famer, stood at the doorway looking pleased.
“Glad to see you making your life a priority, Owen. This game can be a brutal one with long seasons. Family should always come first.”
“Thanks, Mr. Sung.”
“Now, what do you say to a midday drink? After sitting in that meeting for the last two hours, I can’t feel my ass any longer.”
Chuckling, I agreed, as did Coach Hampton. I knew better than to decline the chance to talk ball with a player immortalized in the MLB Hall of Fame. Even if he could sign me away at a moment's notice. I liked to think we had a good relationship. He’s the one who took a chance on me when I was just a little asshole in college.
A few nights later, I was lying in my newly delivered bed watchingJohn Wickfor the umpteenth time. I’d spent the majority of the week purchasing all new furniture for the house. Vanessa had decorated it from top to bottom when she moved in, all in her glamorous style. I didn’t have a need for a pink velvet couch or a fur rug under my bed.
There was also a lingering scent of her perfume that had always made my nose tingle with an incoming sneeze. It was now gone thanks to a diffuser of miracle-working essential oils. I hired an interior designer that Marc knew, and she helped me make my house feel more like a home. Before Vanessa, I filled the space with everything needed for a bachelor pad. Lots of leather and metal. But the new space reminded me of Aspen’s and Rory’s homes. A little mix of mid-century and a bit eclectic. Sure, it probably came off a bit feminine, but it felt like being back in Ashfield.
Beside me, my phone buzzed, and I glanced over to find Aspen calling. We’d made it a routine to speak every night, even when she was exhausted or I was in the middle of training. We both made the time. That had been our agreement.
Pressing the Answer button, I saw her face pop up on the screen. She was on a video chat, so I immediately turned on my camera.
“Hey, cricket.”
“Hey,” she said warmly. Aspen was outside, somewhere among trees. Her backdrop was filled with yellows, greens, and oranges. The fall in Ashfield was one of those things I missed most when I moved away.
“Where are you?” I asked. I couldn’t quite determine the location, but I knew it was somewhere high in the mountains. She panned out the camera and flipped it around. Aspen sat on a rock ledge overlooking the town. It reminded me of those postcards people pick up of picturesque getaways.
“Wow, that’s a view,” I said when she turned the camera and herself so that it showed both her and the view over the ledge.
“It’s my favorite spot. I come here when I need a breathe, you know?”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Not much is happening on the farm today. Mr. Frener is moving his cattle onto the new fields. Andrew is overlooking it.”
“Ah, so you get some time away. That’s good, cricket.”
“Andrew has been helping out more, and we’re looking at hiring some people. I’m just not sure how I feel about it.”
We’d spoken on this a few times since I left. Aspen didn’t think it was right for someone else to run the family farm. I kept trying to convince her she could still oversee Sunny Brook Farms but could hire others to manage the property.
“I know. But I don’t think it’ll hurt to hear him out.”
Off in the distance, I heard a popping sound, and Aspen held up a soda into view as she took a sip.
“What did you get into this morning?” Sometimes I forgot we had a two-hour time difference. It was midafternoon where she was and early lunchtime here.
“I had a call with my agent and Vanessa’s.”
“Oh, really? What about?” Aspen asked eagerly.
“She has agreed to stay away from me and all Coyotes players. Essentially, the general manager enacted a client restraining order of sorts. We wouldn’t use her agency for any models, whether for promotions, advertising, or things like that, so long as she was linked with one of the players.”
“Is that even legal?”
“No idea, but it worked. Last I heard, Venture Models was only keeping her on, because she tends to land exclusive runway shows and editorials.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re rid of her.”
Chuckling, I replied, “I’m sure you are.”
“What happened between her and her best friend?”
