Page 30 of Soft
"He texted me," I said. "And last night before I went to sleep, I texted him back. He was just checking in."
Her expression shifted, turning warm and happy. "And?"
"And he was kind about it. Which is apparently his factory setting. Kindness." I murmured the last word, still astounded at how well he’d taken my panic.
"Good. That's what you need." She turned back to her computer. "Go do your work. Open that email from Royce. It's been sitting in your inbox long enough."
I stood from the chair. "You're not my mother."
"Somebody has to act like it."
I pointed at her on my way past, which accomplished nothing since she was already looking at her screen again.
Cheyenne was right though. I did need to see what Royce had said about a position for Paxton on the Bellport Blue Jays I’d spiraled shortly after reaching out, which meant it was well past time for me to get my crap together.
My office was quiet when I settled in. I had actual work to get through. There were follow-up emails that needed responses, like the one from Royce, and a call scheduled for the afternoon with one of my hockey guys who had been having a rough stretch.
I had notes to review before that conversation in particular. He needed to know he had options. That this wasn’t the end of the world if he couldn’t play anymore.
The email I needed to address most sat at the top of my inbox. Royce's name in the sender line, the subject readingRe: You’re shitting me.
I chuckled at the sarcastic response since it was definitely not what I’d labeled the first message with. They were always such a smartass. It held true as I read over the email.
Grizzly,
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right? There’s no way you’re asking me if I’m interested in drafting the top player in the college baseball world. That can’t be happening.
Because I’m about to lose my damn mind if so.
Paxton Wells is going to be the next big name in the league. Guy has abilities we haven’t seen in decades (according to Kenneth). Of course we want him.
Are you his rep now? I heard about the explosion with his last agent. I’ve blacklisted him from connecting to any Bellport teams. Bell was more than happy to not have any contact. And Jake just cackled at the joy I was taking in ruining the asshole.
So yeah, I’d like it very much if you could make this happen. Or rather, I’ll make it happen since I get the picks and all.
Tell your guy he’s got a spot here if he wants it.
Don’t say I’ve never been nice.
-R
I sent a quick reply to thank them for being on board with a note that I’d let them know once I had Paxton signed under my agency. It felt weird to confirm that before double-checking with the man of the hour, but I didn’t think waiting would change anything.
Paxton wanted to play in Bellport. He also wanted to be my Daddy. The two were very different, yet I had a feeling he’d excel at both.
There was a knock at my door a half hour later. I looked up to see Moseley, which was strange given he was supposed to be out.
He stood there, glasses slightly askew, looking like he had sprinted to me. "I know I called out. I just wanted to check something and then I'll head back. Grandma is at my place. She'll be fine for an hour." He stepped inside when I didn't object, closing the door behind him. "What happened?"
"I got confirmation from Royce that they’re willing to draft Paxton," I said.
He crossed the room and sat in the chair across from me. "That’s great. But it’s not what I’m asking about. What had you out of the office for so long? Were you truly sick? Should we be worried?”
“Oh.” It took my brain a moment to catch up with what he was saying. “You don’t care about this huge deal?”
“I do care about that. I care about you more.”
Any other quip I had died on my tongue. The hero worship I’d seen from him paled in comparison to how these words made me feel.
