Even the Score(40)
Did I just hit on my boss?
“Sorry . . .” I stammered awkwardly. “I didn’t mean for that to sound the way it sounded. I just meant . . . never mind.”
He let out a loud laugh as I sighed and stood, making my way quickly to the door. I closed it behind me without another word.
As I stalked across the office, past Ellie’s desk, she lifted her head and looked at me. “What happened? Why is your face all red?”
“Shut up,” I said playfully without stopping.
Within a couple of minutes, there was a quiet knock at my door. Praying it wasn’t Andy coming to tease me again, I hollered, “Come in!”
Ellie popped her head in and handed me a large white FedEx envelope. “This just came for you.”
“Thanks.” I stared down at the envelope as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.
“And you owe me an explanation, by the way.”
“For what?”
“You went into his office a normal person; you came out a love-struck sixteen-year-old.”
“Oh, stop it.” I waved her off. “You’re imagining things.”
“Mm-hmm.” She eyed me skeptically, raising one eyebrow. “We’ll see.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the envelope. Ripping the pull tab open, I was surprised to find just one piece of paper inside.
As I pulled it out and stared down at it, my mouth went dry and my hands started trembling.
CHAPTER 15
Andy
“Can we go now, pleeeeeeeeeease?” Logan whined as he jumped up and down on my bed.
“I’m coming.” I laughed. “You all ready to go?”
“Dad.” He stopped jumping and stared at me with a deadpan expression on his face. “I’ve been ready to go since I woke up this morning.”
Being a sports agent definitely had its perks—like scoring tickets to sought-after games, being able to stand on the sidelines at certain things, locker room exclusives, things like that. It just so happened to be All-Star Weekend in major league baseball, and Target Field was lucky enough to be the host this year. I’d known for months that I would get passes to all of the events, but I hadn’t told Logan that we were for sure going to the Home Run Derby until that morning. And I was so glad I hadn’t. I swear he’d asked me every two minutes if it was time to leave yet.
But finally . . . it was time to go.
“All right you goofball, let’s go say good-bye to Becca before we leave.”
“Do we have to?” he whined again.
I reached out and smacked the bill of his Twins hat. “Be nice.”
An hour later we were at Target Field but had yet to actually make it inside the ball park. Logan was too busy dragging me to the statues of Kirby Puckett and Rod Carew so he could take fake action shots with them.
“Okay, can we be done playing paparazzi and go inside please?” I teased him as he lifted the arm of his T-shirt and flexed his puny bicep muscle next to the Harmon Killebrew statue.
“I’m done, I’m done.” He grinned toward the ground shyly. “I can’t wait to get inside, Dad. We seriously get to go down on the field?”
“Not only do you get to go out on the field, I didn’t tell you one thing.”
His blue eyes grew wide as could be and shot to mine. “What?”
“Remember how you argued with me when I told you to bring your glove?”
He nodded excitedly.
“Well, you get to go stand in the outfield and shag fly balls during the Home Run Derby.” I watched for his reaction out of the corner of my eye. His face went pale, and his mouth hung open in shock. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Unless you don’t want to?”
He nodded his head up and down as fast as it would go. “I definitely want to.”
We walked toward the aisle that led down to the field and past a security guard who held a hand up, stopping us. Logan proudly lifted the plastic tag hanging from the red, white, and blue All-Star lanyard around his neck. The man took a close look, then smiled down at Logan and waved us through.
It was a hot July night, and the air was thick and muggy. I wasn’t sure how many balls were going to be leaving the park with that humidity, but I don’t think there was a thing that could’ve dampened Logan’s spirits. His eyes gleamed as they bounced all over, looking from the Jumbotron to the dugout to the All-Star logo painted on the grass.
“Pretty cool, huh?” I wanted to take in everything like he was, but I was too busy staring down at the look on his face, which was a thousand times better than any Christmas morning we’d ever had.
“So cool, Dad!” Quickly he lifted his arm and pointed. “Look! There’s Justin!”