“You sure do know an awful lot about someone you’re not friends with,” I tease.
“Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles.
“I’m more and more glad that you dragged me out now,” I say with a smile—probably one of the first real ones in weeks—as I drain my drink.
THIRTY-FOUR
CRYING AT BASEBALL
ISABELLA
My phone buzzeson the coffee table, pulling my attention away from the game on the TV.
It’s game one of the World Series.
The Suns played like hell through their playoff matchups and made it to the World fucking Series. I’m so proud of them, and it makes me so happy knowing how much they all want this. Especially Ryan.
Fucking Ryan.
He switched his walk-up song again.
He’s been using “I Miss You” by blink-182 since their first division playoff game against San Francisco.
What a terrible hype song. But I know he’s not using it to be a hype song. He’s using it for me.
I cry every time he’s up at bat. Needless to say, I’ve looked a hot mess for the last three weeks.
It feels wrong to not be there. Either working or just attending to support him. It’s practically around the corner. After tomorrow’s game, they’ll head to New York for three games where it could either end if someone wins four games, or theycome back here for the last two games. It’s best of seven, and as much as I want them to make quick work of the series against New York, I secretly hope they come back to win it at home.
Thankfully, he’s not up at bat right now, so I’m more composed than I would have been had my phone rang three batters later.
The area code is local, but it’s not a number I recognize. I’ve sent out what feels like a million job applications in the last few weeks so anytime my phone rings, the adrenaline pumps through my body and my heart starts to race in anticipation. I know it’s likelynota company calling me back at this hour, but someone needs to get my nervous system that same message.
I snatch it off the table and swipe to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hi there! Is this Ms. Rossi?” a chipper feminine voice asks.
“Yes, this is she. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. How rude of me. It’s Julie in admin for the Suns Organization.” I have a vague recollection of a stunning pint-sized blonde.
“Oh, right. We’ve met before, yeah? You were in that incredible emerald gown at the gala, right?” I have the briefest memory of a fleeting introduction with her during the silent auction.
“Yes! Wow, I’m impressed you remember me.” I’m almost positive that if she were sitting in front of me right now she’d be blushing.
I shrug, even though she can’t see me. “It’s my job to pay attention.” Well.Wasmy job.
“That’s actually why I’m calling. You see, with the regular season wrapped up, we’ve been finalizing our broadcast contracts for next season and we’re not giving exclusive rights to any network, like we did this year with Sports24.”
“Oh, wow. I’m sure they’re not too pleased about that decision.”
She snorts. “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it. Anyway, due to that, we’ll be seeing a revolving door of networks and their crews coming in and out for every home series which the big bosses think may pose some security issues.”
I think on it for a moment, and I come to a similar conclusion. I’m surprised they already realized this is going to be an issue this early out. Gives them plenty of time to get ahead of it. This is often something that isn’t recognized until well into the season. And then you’re trying to plug the leaks in a boat while you’re sailing, instead of reinforcing the boat before you put it out on the water. “They’re absolutely right. With new crews every few days, you’ll get those who don’t know what they’re allowed to do and where they’re allowed to go with each series, and that’s just the start of it.”
“Exactly! So, with that in mind, the bosses are looking to bring in a security professional that will essentially be the go-between for the organization and the broadcasters.”
