39. Cameron
thirty-nine
Cameron
I could fucking kill Eli right now. Not only is my chest sore as fuck, but I think I’m bleeding through the bandages.
Turner just put my ass through the ringer for being such a fuck-up lately. He made me do a grueling physical training session, a ten-mile run on the treadmill, and then a half-hour on the mound, throwing balls for batting practice—aka pitching grunt work—as punishment.
If I knew what I was in for, I wouldn’t have agreed to Eli’s grand gesture today. I would have tried to put him off for another day. Don’t get me wrong; his idea was genius, but the timing is unfortunate.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a text from Eli.
Think of the devil.
Eli: Your new assistant is waiting for you in the front office. You can thank me again later.
I roll my eyes at my phone, shoving it back in my pocket. He’s having a little too much fun at my expense.
When I arrive upstairs in the reception area for the general manager, I’m taken back to the day I signed with the Evaders nine years ago. I was just out of college, and Ted Montgomery, Senior, greeted me with a hearty handshake and a huge smile on his face. He said I was the future of the organization and he couldn’t wait to see what I brought to the team.
Ted Senior made this place feel like home. His son, Ted Junior, helped him run this place, and his teenage grandchildren had various jobs during the season. I got a kick out of seeing them in concession uniforms and on grounds keeping crews. I had never witnessed rich kids being so enthusiastic about learning every aspect of their family business. But the Montgomerys were.
It still bums me out that I never got to bring Ted Sr. the trophy, since he passed a year after my signing and Ted Junior took over.
The front office looks different since it was remodeled a few years ago but still retains the same homey charm. The white walls are littered with family pictures and other history-making moments of the organization.
The receptionist greets me when I arrive. “Morning, Mr. Miller. What can I help you with?”
“Yeah, I’m supposed to meet someone here.”
“Cameron Miller. Long time, no see,” Sylvie Tran sings. She’s the Evaders’ office manager and right-hand lady to Ted Junior—and Senior before him. “I hear you find yourself in need of an assistant.”
“I do. Mostly for the off-season. My brother, Eli, is tired of renting out his own assistant.” I lean an elbow on the reception desk. “He doesn’t share well with others.”
Sylvie laughs, her dark brown eyes glittering with mirth. “Yes, I know. Seems like you don’t either. How’s that chin?”
“Hey, that wasn’t my fault.” I’m surprised more people haven’t razzed me over what happened with Nico. Not everyone knows why we fought.
Right? Totally. No one in the dugout heard how you were screwing his sister and fell in love with her.
“Sure, sure. It’s not your fault you fell in love with Mr. Romero’s little sister.”
Wrong. Everyone knows.
I try to hide my embarrassment and laugh it off. “Can’t help what the heart wants.”
“Well, good luck with that. As for the assistant. Mr. Drake called, looking for leads. He didn’t have to go far. We have the perfect person for you.” She smiles widely at me.
For a second, I get nervous. “Great. Thanks. So, uh, who is the poor soul you’ve forced into helping me?”
The elevator dings, and Sylvie claps her hands. She’s way too excited. “Your new assistant just arrived.”
The doors slide open, revealing a young woman wearing a white shirt under a baby blue blazer, ripped jeans, and sneakers. Her long blonde hair is curled away from her face ,and something about her looks familiar, but I can’t figure out why.
“Gwenny, my darling.” Sylvie wraps her in a hug like a proud momma bear.
Gwenny? Why does that sound familiar?
“Cameron, meet your new assistant.” Sylvie gives the blonde another hug before excusing herself to attend another meeting.
The girl rocks onto her heels and waves at me. “Hey, Mr. Miller.”
That voice. I tilt my head to the side. Then it hits me. Standing in front of me is a very grown-up version of Gwendolyn Montgomery, Ted Junior’s daughter.
“Holy shit, little Gwenny Montgomery? Where the hell have you been?” I ask, surprised by this turn of events.
Her cheeks turn pink. “Please call me Gwen. As you can see, I’m not little anymore.”
“Fuck. You’re right. I’m so sorry. It’s just that the last time I saw you, you were working the concession stand and going to your senior prom. ”
Gwen laughs uncomfortably. “Dang, I forgot about that. That was so long ago. I left for Boston soon after that, for college. Needed to get away.” Her eyes glaze over, probably slipping into the past.
I nod like I know what she’s talking about. “Sure. It’s good to have you back.”
“Thanks. Just so you know, I majored in social media marketing and business, so I am fully capable of running your socials and helping with sponsorships, meetings, or anything you need.”
Something passes through her eyes, and it has me wondering why the heck she needs this job. She’s a Montgomery, for crying out loud. She can do anything she wants.
“Are you sure you want to work for me? I’m not that cool. My socials are horrible. I’m the worst at remembering my schedule, and sometimes I need help with personal stuff. Like sending gifts and shit. It’s dumb stuff, reall—”
She cuts me off, sounding desperate. “No. Please. I need this. Don’t worry about the personal stuff; it’s no big deal. But I need this job to show my dad I can turn a nonexistent online presence into something huge. That’s what I really want to do.”
“I wouldn’t say nonexistent.” I have a million followers.
“Spare me, Mr. Miller.” She stands tall, ready to explain how I am wrong in every way.
I bite back a smile. I enjoy seeing Gwen all grown up and ready to show these men up here what she’s made of. And if this is what she needs to make it happen, then I’ll be her guinea pig.
“Cam. If we are going to work together, call me Cam.”
“Cam it is. As I was saying, your online presence is atrocious. A four-year-old thirst trap and professional pictures taken by the team photographer are all you’re working with. Any player on the team can have a million plus followers just by being an Evader. Los Angeles is a vast area, and the team has an enormous fan base.”
Oh, she’s good. I have a feeling Gwen is going to be whipping my ass in shape .
“Walk with me to the locker room. I was just heading out for the day, but I would love to hear more about your ideas.”
She doesn’t stop talking the entire trip down the elevator. Her enthusiasm is infectious. She’s got me ready to try out all the different strategies on getting more sponsorships and giving back.
Gwen is so busy talking, her hands flying about—Talia does the same when she’s really into a subject—and misses the steps leading down as we enter the locker room. I grab her around the waist just before she hits the floor. The last thing I need is Ted ripping me a new one for letting his daughter get hurt on the first day of her new job.
Out of nowhere, I’m knocked off balance and I lose my grip on Gwen. I stagger back as Nico hits me in the chest with his fist. My pec burns, and I wince in pain.
“What the fuck, Romero?” I cry out.
“You break up with my sister two weeks ago, and now you’re bringing strange women into the locker room. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He grips my shirt and rears back, ready to punch me again.
Do not hit him.
I close my eyes, ready for the punch.
“Please don’t hit him,” I hear Gwen shout in panic. “I’m his assistant. That’s it.”
Nico releases my shirt, and I open my eyes to find him staring at Gwen like he wants to burn the skin right off her body. This fucking guy.
“Chill, Nico. Gwen is Ted’s daughter. You know, our boss’s boss.”
“Then why the fuck were you holding her?” He turns his glare on me.
I should be pissed at him for hitting me, but I’m not. He’s just being a good brother .
“She almost ate concrete, and I was just trying to make sure she didn’t hit the floor.” I look at Gwen and point at her. “You are a hazard. Please tell me you have medical insurance.”
She nods, and her lips twitch up as she raises her hand. “I do. Self-proclaimed klutz reporting for duty.”
Smart-ass. I bite back my laugh as I turn back to Nico. “Are we good here?”
“Yeah. Uh, sorry for jumping to conclusions.” Romero looks away in shame. He turns to Gwen. “I’m sorry, Ms. Montgomery.”
She squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “You are forgiven, but I’m going to need something from you in return.”
Nico visibly swallows, and I love seeing him sweat. “Okay.”
She crosses her arms and cocks her hip. “I will now be in charge of all your social media platforms, or I am going to tell my father you hit your teammate again. I don’t think you need another fine. Do you?”
Oh, fuck.
Gwendolyn Montgomery has the biggest set of balls on her. She just made Nico her bitch.
Romero’s eyes widen in shock. “Yes, ma’am. Anything you say.”
“Good. I will get your contact information from Sylvie upstairs and will reach out with a time to meet this week. Do not miss it.” Gwen turns to me and wink. “Thanks, Cam. I will email you later, and we can hit the ground running next week.”
“Anything you say, boss lady.” I give her a salute and watch as she spins on her heel with a grin and strides out of the locker room like she owns it.
“Is it just me, or is she kind of scary?” Nico scratches his head.
“Nah, she’s a sweet kid. I’ve known her since she was a teenager. She’s got something to prove, so she’s not going to take anyone’s shit.” At least, that’s the sense I get from her. I turn back to Romero. “So?”
He grunts.
“This is awkward.” I shove my hands in my pocket.
“Again, sorry. ”
“It’s all good. And just so you know, I didn’t break up with Talia. I’m giving her space. When she’s ready, she knows where to find me.”
“You’re even dumber than I am. Go talk to her. She thinks you’re going to break up with her.”
“Why the fuck would I do that? I love her.”
He holds up his hands. “Don’t punch the messenger. I’m just telling you what she told me at dinner when we talked.”
“Funny. Is everything okay between you two?” I ask.
This is the longest me and Talia have gone without speaking. A few texts here and there don’t count.
“Yeah. We talked. Listen, I didn’t want to say anything personal in front of Anson, but I wanted to say sorry. What happened before is on me. I was holding onto a grudge that has more to do with me and some personal shit than it does you. I just took it out on you because you were an easy target.” Nico adjusts his chain. That must have been excruciating for him to admit.
“All’s forgiven. As long as you forgive me too. I don’t like knowing I hurt you. I’ve been trying to figure out who I was with for weeks. It’s kind of driving me crazy, actually. Anyway, I’m sorry, Nico. If I had known who she was, I never would have laid a hand on her.”
Romero clears his throat and tugs at his shirt collar. “Thanks, man. I appreciate you saying that. She was the one who got away back in college. Saw you with her the night we were celebrating our championship. We had that big beach party blowout at the baseball house.”
I think back to our college days and the hundreds of parties we threw. I remember that one. There was this girl crying in the kitchen when I walked in to grab a case of beer.
Everything comes back to me in a snap.
“I didn’t sleep with her.” I blurt out.
Nico narrows his eyes at me .
“I swear. It just clicked. I know who you’re talking about. She had red streaks in her hair, right?”
He nods.
“She was crying in the kitchen. Said the guy she was seeing had another girl in his lap and was making out with her. Her makeup was all smeared. I felt bad for her, so I let her use my bathroom. We ended up talking for a while. Then I walked her to her car.”
“But she said…” A whole slew of emotions cross his face. He closes his eyes as if in pain and mumbles under his breath as understanding dawns on him. “Fuck. She said it to hurt me, and I deserved it.”
“Are you okay?” I ask.
His eyes snap open, and he shakes his head. “No. But that’s on me.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to get between you and Talia. I know you make her happy, so just… Don’t give up on her, all right?”
“Never. I won’t be another man in her life who walks away. She’s too special. I should have talked to you about my feelings for her. Man to man.” I grip the collar of my shirt and pull it off.
“What the fuck, Miller? Keep your clothes on.” His eyes widen at the bloody bandage on my chest.
“It’s fine,” I assure him. I peel back the tape and show him my tattoo. “This is how much she means to me.”
Second pass as Nico stares at his sister’s name permanently written on my skin. “Damn. That’s fresh. When did you get that?”
“This morning. I’m just waiting for her to come home so I can show her how serious I am. I’m going to ask her to move in. Then, I’m going to marry her.”
He scowls and crosses his arms. “Are you asking or telling?”
“Asking because she respects you and you raised her. Telling because I’m going to marry her, whether you approve or not.”
He smirks. “I hope so since you have her name tattooed over your heart. That’s some bold shit right there.”
“It was my brother’s idea. ”
Nico nods in approval. “Respect.”
“Thanks.” I hold out my hand, and for the first time in over a decade, Nico shakes it.
A booming round of applause, complete with catcalls and whistles, goes off in the locker room. Nico and I look around to find the team hiding near the bathroom, watching us.
“Aw, fuck,” Nico grumbles.
“Fucking finally.” Lance jumps onto the benches and starts doing a dance. “I see a trophy in our future.”
I can’t help myself. I grab Romero under his ass and lift him up. Reed and Lance jog over and help me hold Romero over our heads. We send him crowd surfing around the locker room at the hands of all our teammates.
“Put me down, you fuckers!”
“We will,” I shout over the hoots and hollers. “But when you joined the team, you were a grumpy dick, and we didn’t get the chance to initiate you to the team.”
“That’s right.” Lance rubs his hand together. He hops off the bench and grabs Nico. “Time to rectify the situation.”
Reed covers his mouth and shouts, “To the shower, boys.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Nico yells, trying to wiggle free. But he’s no match for a group of overly enthusiastic ball players on a mission.
We drop Romero’s ass in the freezing cold shower and run out laughing. He comes out charging for us, soaking wet and laughing, snapping at us with a rolled-up towel.
Someone turns up some music, and Reed dances like he’s Magic Mike, making us all crack up. The mood in the room is vibing. As I look around the room at the smiling faces of my team, I can’t help thinking Reed’s right. Maybe this is our year.
Nico catches my line of sight, and he taps his chest.
I place my hand over my heart and nod at him. He doesn’t have to worry. I’ll get Talia to come home somehow. Then I’m never letting her go again.