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He’d shown up early, mostly because he was antsy in his apartment all alone and wanted somewhere to go. What used to be a haven for him from the world, a private place for him to relax, unwind, no one peering into the windows of his life, was now a hollow shell of an apartment.
He’d never recognized until he got back a mere few hours ago how sterile it all was. He’d had Monica rent furniture for him but any art on the walls was something Monica had asked the furniture place to put up that matched the décor. It wasn’t personal. It was a place to sleep, eat, and shower when he needed. That was it.
Not like Baylee’s place with Casey’s drawings on the refrigerator or framed photos of Baylee with her mom and sister. No tennis shoes by the front door, waiting to be put on to go outside and play. No signs of life. The past month he’d been saying to everyone– Kate, Baylee, his mom– that he had to go back to his life, but what life? His life was baseball. There was nothing past that.
“You think any harder and your head might explode.” Monica returned with their coffee, his a simple cup of black and hers a tall iced something with eight words in the name that women always liked to order. He could never remember.
“So, talk.”
Until that moment, he’d never seen the similarities between Kate and Monica, but those two words gave him the sense he was sitting at a table with his sister again instead of his assistant.
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Sorry.” He shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “I’m back. What else is there to say?”
“Oh, there’s more.”
“Okay. I leave the day after tomorrow for Florida, which you already known since you booked everything for me. Tyler says I’m ready. I feel good. I think I have a shot at my spot.”
“Nice try, but no.”
Drew took a deep breath and let it out. “Fine. We left with things… uncertain.”
“Uncertain?” Monica drew a big sip of her drink from the straw the length of her arm.
“Yeah. Baylee’s unsure of how this can work. All the long distance. The attention. The noise, as you call it.”
Monica shook her head. “I don’t blame her. Man. I put up with a lot of crap working for you guys. Thank God my husband trusts me one hundred percent and knows there’s no funny business. Ever. But the piranhas sure know how to tweak a story.”
Drew wasn’t Monica’s only client. She worked with a few other ball players, all from his team, but she did know as well as he did what it was like.
“Do you want this?”
Her question stopped his coffee mug as he guided it to his mouth. “Do I want what?”
“You and Baylee? Do you want it?”
“Yes.” The word came without hesitation.
He’d been gone from Baylee and Casey for not even twenty-four hours and he ached to see them again. Hold her close.
Monica gave him a hard nod of her head. “Then it will happen.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“You didn’t become one of the best pitchers in baseball by sitting back and letting things go by that you wanted in life. If you want it to happen, it will happen. And from what you’ve told me of this ‘baking bombshell’ of yours, then you’ll do just fine. You tell her I can make that nickname work for her, too. I’m not one to compliment the press, but it’s a good one.” She took another sip of her iced coffee. “Besides, I want some of these cookies you’re always telling me about.”
Drew laughed. Monica was a fireball, for sure. Damn good at her job, too. He appreciated the spark of hope she lit in his mind. He just prayed to God she was right.
