It was for the best.
I’d told myself that a thousand times in the past twenty-four hours. It was bullshit and I knew it. Sitting at my desk, I went back through our email exchange. I hadn’t talked to Jenny in a day and those emails and some text messages were really all I had left of her.
She was stubborn and proud, and I knew she would leave the conference room and never come back. Now, I could focus on my business without any distractions. I’d purposely sabotaged myself, so it seemed.
I clicked on the file with all of Jenny’s emails and they started appearing down the screen. The one with her assignment popped up near the top. I opened it. For what reason, I had no idea.
There it was right in the middle of it all. Nausea crept through me and I thought I might vomit. For someone who was supposed to have all this self-control, a disciplined manager, I sure seemed to let my emotions get the best of me.
I’d given her bad information. I was the one who put the injury information in with Salvatore’s file. I beat my fist on my desk just to feel the pain radiate up my arm. It was late and everyone had gone home so nobody heard it.
“Fuck!”
I scrubbed both hands up and down the sides of my face. This must’ve been what she was trying to explain in the conference room. But no, I kept cutting her off, because I was angry and pissed and scared, convinced the feelings and the sex and the time we were spending together were distracting me and making me vulnerable.
What the hell are you going to do, Ethan?
I needed to apologize to her face-to-face, even if she never wanted to see me again after that. I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to either.
I snagged my phone. 8:17 p.m. It was early enough to call, but there was no way she would answer. If I sent her a text I knew she’d read it, and I’d be able to tell if she did, thanks to technology these days.
I need to see you, Jenny. Is that okay?
There was so much more that I wanted to type—that I wanted to say. I knew that I’d made her cry. Could I repair this damage? I knew who might be able to help me out, because I was pretty certain I wasn’t going to get a text from Jenny. Definitely not for a while anyway.
Me: Can you meet for drinks? Sweeney’s?
Matt: Sure. See you in fifteen.
I was a few minutes late when I walked into Sweeney’s. It was our favorite dive bar to hang out at because it was seldom packed. I often wondered if it was some money-laundering operation since it had been in business since I could remember yet I rarely saw anyone there.
It was perfect for Matt though. Anywhere else in town and he’d be mauled by fans asking for autographs. Matt never turned anyone away either, even if he knew the shit was going to be on eBay the next day. He still stuck around, smiled, and signed whatever they put in front of him.
The bar was just that, a bar. No tables, just a long stretch of countertop that ran along the back wall; one bartender, Sweeney; a beer tap; and some bottles of liquor and glasses. When I opened the door Matt turned around and tapped his nonexistent watch.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“You’re late for anything that isn’t a business meeting. Seriously.”
I sat on the stool next to him and ordered a bottle of beer.
“You’ve been needing to talk a lot lately.” He grinned. “I’m not really Dr. Phil, you know? I am single and stuff.” He laughed.
“Yeah, well. I’m kind of in uncharted territory and you’re the only person I really trust.”
“I’m flattered. So what’d you do to fuck up?”
I told him everything, all the way down to it being my fault and the email.
He sat there for a bit, occasionally taking a sip of his beer. “The Salvatore deal was a good deal, right?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“But what? Everyone was happy about it. You were happy about it until you found some math problem with it, right?”
I hemmed and hawed and stuttered for a second.
“Pussy,” Matt muttered under his breath.
“Huh?”
“Oh, just that you’re still taking the safe, chicken-shit route.” He turned and smirked at me. Not in a fun way, but more like he was disappointed. “What happened to you, man?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? We’ve been through this about my business, my personal life. Why I am the way I am.”
He shook his head. “You were never like this on the ballfield. I don’t even buy the whole ‘mommy’ excuse anymore, bro. You’ve been sabotaging yourself ever since that injury. Are you happy?”
“Well, not at the moment, obviously. But sure, I have nice things, a good life.”
“I didn’t ask what your fucking net worth was. Have you been happy since your baseball career ended?”
It was a tough question, and far more complicated than a yes or no. There were a million variables at play. That’s what I kept saying to myself over and over. Matt knew the answer before he asked, because he knew me better than anyone. Lying to him would be an insult.
“Not like I was before. Well, except for the past few months.”
“Oh, I wonder why that is?”
“Point taken, dickhead. You don’t have to pile it on.”
Sweeney chuckled at the end of the bar. I wasn’t too worried about him overhearing things. I’m sure he had plenty of more important secrets to keep, considering I thought his bar might’ve been run by the Mob.
“I kinda do, Ethan.” Matt laughed harder this time and shook me by the shoulder. “You’re kind of a know-it-all who doesn’t listen to anyone.”
“Okay.” I turned so that I was facing Matt. “So what now? I mean, I seriously doubt she’s going to return my text.”
“Well…” He looked me up and down, almost sarcastically. “She does seem to like you quite a bit, for whatever reason.”
I half laughed under my breath. “Such a dick.”
“I happen to be her favorite player, you know? So you might want to be nice to me. And I also watch a lot of romantic comedies.”
“Now who’s the pussy?” I mumbled.
At the end of the bar Sweeney laughed, and it turned into a fit of wheezing.
“You okay down there, Sweeney?” Matt hollered.
Sweeney lost some of his hearing when he fought in Vietnam. “Oh sure. You fellas just always remind me of me and my old buddies giving each other shit. Don’t mind me.”
“Anyway, Ethan. You need one of those big romantic gestures. That shit always works in the movies when the guy fucks up really bad.”
“I can’t believe between the two of us the best plan we can come up with is copying a movie plot.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “This is ridiculous.”
Matt’s eyes lit up like he didn’t even hear me. “You’re perfect for this too. Because you’re an asshole and nobody likes you. It’s always more meaningful when it comes from the asshole.”
“I’m sitting right here. Jesus.” I couldn’t help but laugh. When Matt got an idea in his head he didn’t stop until it happened. It looked like I might be living out a Sandra Bullock movie soon.
He snapped his fingers like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Her dad is a huge fan of the team, right?”
I didn’t know where he was going with this. “Yeah, as far as I know from what she’s told me. Why?”
“You really are clueless, aren’t you? Look, the fastest way to earn forgiveness is to do something special for the person. To do that, you need to know what they love. What does Jenny love more than anything in the world?”
“Eating. Definitely eating. She fucking packs the carbs away.”
Matt glared.
“Okay, asshole. I see what you’re getting at. She loves her dad.”
“So how do we use that to our advantage?” He waited for me to catch on.
I pointed at him. “Yes! Okay, let’s do it.”
Sweeney must’ve thought he let a couple of teenage girls into his bar. This was just outrageous enough to probably work.
I looked up and then glanced at Matt once more. “You’re a genius.”