I finished unpacking the last box when Dad walked into the room. I put a few framed pictures of the team and me from back home on the computer desk. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and smiled at a picture of the guys.

Dad sat down on the bed and looked around. “Looks great in here, kiddo. You like the new house?”

I nodded and took a small box of crafting supplies out of the desk drawer. I put a few push-pins in the wall above the computer and hung up a string of clear lights. After I plugged them in, I stepped back and put my hands on my hips.

“There, now it feels like home,” I said, admiring my new room.

“What do you say we go eat some pizza? Your mother and I don’t feel like cooking. It’s been a long day of unpacking.”

“Really? Pizza? Are you sick?” I reached up and felt his forehead.

He laughed. “A cheat meal is in order tonight.”

My eyes lit up, and my mouth watered for the greasy goodness. Living in a house of health and fitness nuts was extremely annoying sometimes.

“I’ll go pull up my hair and put on some shoes!”

He stood and kissed the top of my head before walking out of the room.

After getting ready, I left my room and followed my parents out to Mom’s car. I spent the entire car ride trying to get a good feel for Stockbridge, Georgia. The town lacked a beachfront like Gulfport. I missed the salty air already, and the closest beach was more than four hours away. I sat back in the seat and started responding to texts from friends, telling them how crappy this place was so far.

THE PIZZA PLACE was packed. I took the baseball cap that I had buttoned around a belt loop and put it on my head as we walked the plank of newcomers. It was like a mannequin challenge erupted as everyone in the small restaurant watched us follow our waitress to a table.

I looked at the chalkboard menu over the cash registers and cringed when Dad started pitching a fit that they had Pepsi products instead of Coke.

Mom was laughing. “Craig, calm down. And don’t you dare turn this dinner into a sales pitch!” Mom looked at me. “This is why we don’t take him in public.”

“What a great idea!” Dad’s face lit up.

I laughed when Mom face-palmed. “Here we go…”

Dad smiled when the waitress came over. “Hi there, can I speak to your manager?”

“Umm, you sure you want to?” she asked in confusion.

Dad nodded. “Positive. Your restaurant has a serious problem.”

“Alright, but Mr. Shaw isn’t exactly nice.” She walked off and headed toward the back of the restaurant.

Mom waved over another waitress and placed our order so we could at least eat while the shit-show went down.Not long after, a guy wearing a backward ballcap with dark brown hair peeking out of it came over to our table. His black apron was covered in flour, and hot damn, he was the best-looking pizza guy I had ever seen.

“If you don’t like the food here, just leave. I had two waitresses quit, and the cook is home sick.”

Dad reached up with a big smile, and shook the guy’s hand. I saw him eye up the guy’s appearance. He had diamond stud earrings in each ear and a well-trimmed beard. He looked too young and hip to own a pizza place.

“Mr. Shaw, I’m assuming?”

The guy nodded.

Dad kept a smile on his face. “Not here to complain about the food. I just see that you serve Pepsi, and that’s soft drink suicide.”

Mr. Shaw looked at each of us, then returned his irritated gaze to Dad. “Are you shittin’ me right now? I don’t have time for this.”

The waitress set our drinks down, and I took the wrapper off a straw as I watched Dad talk to him about how Coke is better than Pepsi.

“Craig, you’re clearly wasting his time. He just told you he had waitresses quit and the cook is home sick. Schedule another time if he’s even interested,” Mom said and then mouthed sorry to the manager.

I smiled and took a drink.

Mr. Shaw opened his mouth but stopped as his attention gravitated toward the door. We watched a gorgeous redhead walk in, her gaze fixed on Mr. Shaw like she was going to pounce on him right then and there.

“Shiiiiit, not tonight.” Mr. Shaw clenched his jaw.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said with a perky smile and licked her lips.

Mr. Shaw looked at Dad. “I’ll make you a deal. You get rid of her, I’ll switch to Coke,” he said quietly.

Mom and I watched as Dad’s smile grew. “Deal,” he said as he stood.

“And who are you?” Dad asked the woman as she got closer.

“Jamie, Zach’s—” she stopped speaking when Mr. Shaw rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen mumbling something about stupid people.

“His sister?” Dad asked her.

“Girlfriend.” She twirled her red hair with her index finger. “He’s just being stubborn about it right now.”

“You may want to get as far away from him as you can.”

I raised a brow at Dad. Mom covered a smile with her hand.

“And why is that?” she asked looking at Dad oddly.

Dad was a damn good businessman and one of the reasons Coke gave him the management position here in Stockbridge. People respected him. He had this way of delivering his words, whatever they may be, with such conviction that people had faith in what he was saying. I hadn’t met one person my dad encountered that didn’t want to listen to him.

“I’m his lawyer, and you don’t want to be anywhere near him right now. Of course, I can’t share details because of privacy laws, but if you don’t, you might be…

Next.” He said the last word quietly and with a little shudder.

I almost spit out my drink.

The redhead looked like she was thinking hard. “Next to what?” she asked slowly and quietly.

Dad slowly dragged his index finger across his neck.

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “I should go.” She turned on her heels and hurried out of the restaurant.

Dad marched himself to the back with his chest puffed out.

Mom and I burst into laughter.

“I can’t believe she fell for that! She must be super smart,” I said, shaking my head in disappointment. “Wow, I feel like the females of the world were just humiliated.”

Mom laughed and nodded. “What a smarty.”

MOM AND I were finished eating, and Dad was still in the back talking. The place had thinned out, and the waitresses were starting to close the place down. The door to the restaurant opened again, and two men (one favoring Mr. Shaw), a beautiful woman in heels, and a little girl with dark, bouncy curls came in. The waitresses waved to the little girl.

Mr. Shaw came out with Dad, laughing and with the most adorable grin on his face. Even Mom nudged me in appreciation. I laughed.

Dad shook Mr. Shaw’s hand and said, “I’ll be back by in the morning to make the switch official.” Dad put his arm around my shoulders and smiled at everyone. “This is Hailey Grayson, my daughter. She will be going to school at Stockbridge High. And my wife, Julie,” he said, smiling at Mom.

Mr. Shaw ruffled the little girl’s curls when she came to stand next to him. “Nice to meet you. This beautiful monster is my niece, Millie, and her father there,” he pointed to the younger man that looked like his mini-me, “is my younger brother and the art teacher and baseball coach at the high school.”

Oh, shit. I instantly turned red. Here it comes…

Dad eagerly shook the guy’s hand. “Baseball coach?” Dad asked, looking like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Yessir. I’m Elliot Shaw.”

“I’ve heard about you. My wife and I both researched the baseball program before I accepted the job here in Stockbridge.”

Mom smiled and shook Elliot’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

The woman in heels looked around. “You seem to be interested in baseball. Do you have a son we’re missing around here? I’m Quinn, by the way. And yes, this place is named after me. My parents started it when I was born and sold it to Zach, more like I begged him to buy it, but that’s another story.”

My cheeks turned red. No brother... Just me.

Dad was beaming.

Mr. Shaw scoffed. “Begged, pleaded, whined, now I’m stuck with this he—”

Mr. Elliot elbowed him. “Language in front of your niece.”

Mom and Dad laughed.

Mr. Elliot looked at me, and Dad nudged my side with his elbow. “Tell him, kiddo.”

“I play ball.” I smiled a little.

“Not just play, more like smokes all the boys. She got kicked off the softball team when she was twelve because she was too good. They put her on the baseball team, and she’s been a star.”

I glared at Dad. I wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. I hated when he bragged on me to complete strangers. You never knew how people would take seeing a girl pursue a man’s sport.

Quinn laughed. “But she’s so tiny!”

A deep frown formed. I hated when people doubted me.

“So was Sam, but she could hit a ball like no one’s business.” The coach looked at me. “We have tryouts next week.”

I nodded, and a real smile formed. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. We could use some fresh talent.” He held his hand out to the little girl and smiled when she took it. “Now, I should feed my little trouble. See you next week.” He nodded toward me, then looked at my parents. “It was nice meeting you all.”

Mom and Dad shook everyone’s hands again, and we left.

During the entire ride home, Dad gave me a pep talk regarding tryouts. I mostly tuned him out because I knew the fun-loving not-so-uptight Dad was fading away, and he would be going into drill sergeant mode. Baseball wasn’t just my passion; it was war. I had to be the best and nothing short of it. Dad would be sure of it.