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I snort in disbelief. “You don’t like her anyway.”
“I hated how she was treating you, which is completely different.” The server comes back with our coffees. If she notices the tension, she doesn’t let on. He waits for her to leave before adding, “But now you’re dating, right? No issue.”
“If there’s no issue, why haven’t you apologized?”
“It’s not that I haven’t—”
“Boys,” Richard says warningly.
He stands, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand. “Andy. Nice to meet you in person.”
The man who must be Andy gives it a shake. He’s tall and broad—an ex-athlete himself, I’d bet anything—and looks like the kind of guy who would be an agent, down to the slick black suit paired with pristine basketball sneakers. There’s an AirPod in his ear, but he slips it out as he smiles at us. I don’t know much about how agenting works, but I would guess it involves a lot of smooth talking. Cooper and I get out of the booth too, shaking his hand in turn.
“Of course,” he says. “I’m thrilled to make time for you. I think I’ve seen every available piece of film, Sebastian. Your swing is classic. Beautiful. An imprint of your father’s.”
I swallow down a little spike of anxiety and smile. “Thank you.”
“You must be getting excited,” he says as he sits next to Richard. “July is going to be here before you know it.”
“I’m just focusing on getting through the rest of this season.”
“It’s been a tough stretch,” he says. “There’s still a chance you’ll make the playoffs, though, right?”
“That’s what we’re aiming for, always,” I say. Privately, I’m not sure we’ve done enough to earn that spot, but there’s still time for the rankings to shake out.
Cooper surprises me by adding, “I think they’ll make it. Sebastian is one of the leaders of the team. He knows how to rally.”
I wish it was a direct apology, but I hear some of it in his words. My heart clenches. I’m thrilled that Mia finally agreed to give us a shot, but I don’t want it to come at the cost of my relationship with my brother and best friend.
“I’m not the biggest hockey expert,” Andy says, “but I know talent when I see it in any sport. Congratulations on the Frozen Four win, man.”
Cooper dips his chin. “Thank you.”
Andy shakes his head, huffing out a little laugh.
“This family,” he says. “Manning-level talent and charisma. Richard, you’ll have to gather your sons together for endorsements once they’re in the pros. Sebastian, too.”
I feel Cooper tense next to me. My heart skips a beat. Andy isn’t the first person to insinuate that I’m not part of my family because I don’t share their blood, and he won’t be the last, but that doesn’t mean it feels good to hear.
Richard and Sandra tried, from the very beginning, to bring me completely into the Callahan family fold, but it wasn’t seamless. I had my own life in Cincinnati, my friends, my baseball team, and of course my mom and dad, and when the accident ripped that away all at once, I felt unmoored.
They were patient; they put me into a new baseball program right away, they made sure I had access to grief counseling, they treated me the same as their other children. Still, I got into way too many fights. My grades were shit, and so was my play on the field. I didn’t feel like I belonged until nearly a year in, when the worst of the heartbreak faded. Still, people acted like I was just some kid that Richard and Sandra were babysitting instead of their child, so I changed the name on the back of my uniform to match the rest of my family.
My adoptive parents worked hard from day one to make sure I belonged, and the least I can do is repay them by fulfilling my father’s dream for me.
“Sebastian is my son,” Richard says. His tone is mild, but I don’t miss the way his eyes flash. “I have three sons.”
“He wears our name on the back of his jersey,” Cooper adds.
“Of course,” Andy says, seemingly unfazed by the rebuke. He gives us a grin. “Even better. Think about the advertising potential.”
“I’ve heard plenty about it, over the years,” Richard says. He keeps his voice light, but I know him well enough to say with confidence that he won’t want me signing with Andy when it comes time to work with an agent. “Sandra and I didn’t want to subject the boys to that sort of publicity. But once it’s professional, that’ll be a different story.”
“I know that Jessica’s been working on some monster possibilities for James.” He thanks the server when she brings him a cup of coffee, taking a quick sip before setting it back down. “Anyway, I brought along some projections, so we can discuss the baseball particulars. I’d say that the current line of thought is accurate. Top ten for sure, but the slot depends upon last minute trades and if some teams decide to chase the high school prospects. Of course, I can’t communicate with any clubs on your behalf, but I’ve been listening to the chatter, and the reception is excellent.”
He takes out a tablet and pulls up a spreadsheet. Seeing my slash line—batting average, on-base percentage, and slugging—written out in black and white is strange. I’m aware of the numbers when I play, but they’re not the focus. When it comes to scouts for major league clubs, however, it’s the language they speak. That’s what the Rangers and the Marlins and the Reds are considering, all of them, as they decide how they’re going to make a play for me and everyone else that’s eligible.
“These are the most recent numbers?” Richard asks. “Sebastian?”
