Page 61 of West Bound

“Wha-what is this? I thought you had some gourmet meal underneath those.”

I take the seat across from her and begin pouring milk into the bowls. “Any man can take you to a fancy–yet generic–dinner of steak and salmon and vegetables with creme brûlée. But only one man is going to spoil you with breakfast treats to your heart’s delight. And what’s better than cereal for breakfast?”

“What?”

“Cereal for dinner.” We wear matching smiles as we sit staring at each other.

Her eyes sparkle and her teeth play with her plump bottom lip. “What’s under the other ones, Casanova?”

“Ah,” I stand and grab two more plates. “I have our favorites here, but I thought we could expand our palettes and try something a bit more sophisticated.”

I pull off the domes to reveal a bowl of Apple Jacks and a bowl of Frosted Flakes. Going to the counter, I move the remaining dishes closer to the edge of the counter so she can see, and pull the domes off. Cheesecake, double chocolate ganache cake, carrot cake and apple pie all greet us.

“In case you’re not a cake kind of gal,” I tell her, eyeing the slice of apple pie.

“And those?” she asks, pointing at the carafes.

“Regular milk before you, chocolate milk, orange juice and water. The water is a palette cleanser.”

She stands, her smile never leaving, and walks over to me and wraps her arms around my waist.

“This is the best dinner date I’ve ever had. Who wants a basic steak when you can have diabetes for dinner?”

“Exactly,” I whisper and lean in for a soft kiss. “Let's get hopped up on sugar then watch movies until we fall into a sugar coma.”

“Sounds perfect.”

We sit and begin taking bites from every bowl until only bits and flavored milk remain. We put off the desserts until our stomachs digest the cereal. When we’ve washed the sweat from the day off–together, of course–I give her a t-shirt of mine and pull on a pair of gray basketball shorts.

While she dries her hair, I order up a bottle of champagne and it’s delivered right as she walks into the living room. I’ve transferred the desserts to the cart that the attendants left and wheeled it to the bedroom along with the champagne, chocolate milk and water.

We settle into bed, four desserts spread out in front of us, and we start sampling each, talking about our favorite movies until we decide on one. I flick through the catalog and luckily find it, hit order, and snuggle under the covers to watch Any Given Sunday.

I hold her close and as the movie draws to an end, I feel her breathing even out and a soft snore spilling from her mouth. Carefully turning off the tv, I roll her so that I’m the big spoon and nuzzle into her hair that smells like my shampoo. Her skin smells like my body wash and her shirt still has my cologne clinging to it.

It’s a glorious smell because she smells like mine. And that sound becomes my new favorite.

The sound that says Vivian is mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY

VIVIAN

“Casual” - Doja Cat

I spent two amazing days off, wrapped up in Phoenix. He spoiled me with lunch for breakfast since apparently–just like breakfast for dinner–it tastes better that way. So the morning after our cereal and champagne dinner, we ate PB & J for breakfast with a side of fruit and bacon. When I asked why the bacon he said, “because it’s bacon. You don’t need any other reason,” and he was quite true.

That afternoon I sent out an email to a few people I know, informing them of Phoenix’s need for a personal assistant and if they knew someone who fit the description, to contact him or I. After that, Phoenix sent out a few follow-up emails of his own, putting more feelers out for a position for Aric. I think it was far too nice of him to do that since he gave Aric the opportunity to move then ample time to find a new position, but he insisted he wanted to help.

That was one thing I was quickly finding out that I was wrong about. Phoenix was a good guy. He was considerate and caring and wanted to help everyone in any way he could. He wanted to find Aric a new employer. The way he spoke of his niece I could tell that he adored her. He cared deeply for his mother and sister and I knew from the look in his eyes that he missed them. Seems he didn’t get to see them as often as he would’ve hoped while living in New York. But now that he was only a five hour drive, and an even shorter plane ride, he could spend more time once the season was over.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to pay for them to fly all over the country to go to his games, and put them up in the fanciest of hotels. The problem was that his schedule didn’t allow him much free time once the season started. And baseball players have a long season. From spring training in March, until the end of the regular season in September, there isn’t much down time between practices and those one hundred and sixty-two games. Add in the postseason if your team makes it into the playoffs, and even longer if you end up in the World Series, and players get to spend a few winter months with their families before they are back to full-time training and preparing to start all over again.

Growing up watching games with my dad, then throwing myself into sports journalism in college and thereafter, I’ve seen the grueling schedule not only the players but their families have to endure during those seven to eight months out of the year. It takes a special kind of person to be understanding and accepting of such a demanding job like an athlete. And to make a relationship work. So many relationships fail in the sports world because of crazy schedules and most of all, because of infidelity.

I’ve seen it. Hell. I was an unwilling participant when that fucktard Kenrick talked me into sleeping with him while hiding the fact that he was married. I was sick to my stomach for weeks over it, but decided I had to forgive myself for something I didn’t know. So many times I wanted to reach out to his wife and tell her, but CeCe warned against it saying it was best if I stayed away from that scumbag and not get any more involved in his personal life. That was not a problem for me since I could barely stand to look at the jerk.

So having Phoenix dote over me for two whole days was quite different than what I expected of him. Listening to him talk about how proud he was of his niece and his sister was endearing. I made a mental note to talk to CeCe and Bishop and see if they could help me get the three women in his life to Houston soon to surprise him at one of his games.

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