I’m throwing my glove and cap into my bag, vigorously rubbing a towel through my sweat-drenched hair to dry it off before I hit the showers.
“Fletcher!” Coach Miller’s voice booms through the dugout.
I swear my heart stops for a moment, thinking I’m about to be scolded. “Yeah, Coach?”
“Sports24 wants you for an interview and then you can head out.” He tilts his head out toward the field where their crew is set up for post-game coverage.
Yes!This couldn’t be more perfect.
I offer him a nod that I hope doesn’t come across as too enthusiastic. I’m always happy to chat with the press—it’s part of the job—but I’m neverthishappy.
I quickly shove the rest of my gear into my bag, zipping it up so it’s ready to go when I’m finished, and jog out of the dugout and back onto the field where the Sports24 team is filming.
“Sup Jamie?” I ask as I bump fists with the floor manager who has covered all the Suns games for the last few years. He’s always reminded me a bit of Santa Claus with the beer belly and bushy white beard he’s rocking.
“Doing good, Fletch. Team’s looking great this year,” he says with a nod toward the dugout where some of the team still linger.
“Goal is the World Series, same as always!” I say with a smile. We have yet to win one in the six years since I was called up from the minors. But we’ve come close a couple times. This is our year though, I feel it.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He winks at me, eyes crinkling around the edges with his smile. “You’ll be on after this next ad break they’re about to go into.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be over here,” I say, thumbing over my shoulder. “Let me know when you’re ready for me.”
“Will do, Fletch.” Jamie walks back over to stand with the monitor the presenters use to see themselves in the shot and watch back replays.
I let my eyes scan the gathered crew, looking for my target, snagging onto her near the edge of the group. She’s taken her jacket off, instead wearing a white tank top with the purple dress slacks, the blazer thrown over her crossed arms. She’s still watching the stands, but this time as the crowd is filing out. I can hear some of the fans that have hung back, shouting at me. They always want autographs or game balls. Sometimes they even askfor my jersey which is honestly kind of gross after I’ve sweat in it for nine innings.Iwouldn’t even want to take this thing home with me, and I’m grateful I don’t have to.
I make it all of a single step in her direction before Jamie calls out for me. I let out a sigh, heading to the table to get mic’d up by a sound tech weighed down with microphones in every pocket of his cargo shorts.
I banter back and forth with the two presenters for a few minutes, and we discuss some plays I made during the game that helped us secure the win. Before I know it, we’ve wrapped on my section and I’m free to go home. But I have one other thing I want to do first.
After dropping the spare microphone off with the sound techs, I walk over to where she’s standing. I make sure to keep behind her, so she doesn’t spot me coming and try to make a run for it.
“What are we looking at?” I ask over her shoulder. She starts, a hand flying over her heart.
“Jesus Christ, you can’t just sneak up on someone like that!” she scolds as she turns to see who it is. Her eyes widen when they catch on me, brows disappearing behind those bangs.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” I say with an innocent smile. “I’m curious what we’re watching for.” It takes everything in me, but I manage to draw my eyes away from her face, instead letting them flick over the crowd.
“I’m security,” she says simply, as if that answers my questions. I tilt my head in a signal for her to explain further. She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Basically, I’m making sure there aren’t any crazed fans trying to make it onto the field where the team is working. Making sure they’re safe and can do their job without an interruption.”
“Doesn’t the stadium have people for that though?” My head tilts in confusion.
“Yes, but I’m essentially their second line of defense. Focused only on my Sports24 crew, instead of the whole venue.”
I nod in understanding. “Got it. That’s some pretty intense work.”
She gives a small shrug. “I mean, yeah. It can be. From what I’ve noticed, sports fans are a beast of their own really. Something I’m still not quite used to yet.”
“Ah, so you’re new to my world. I was wondering why I’d never seen you around.” She snorts a laugh. “What’s so funny?” I’ve somehow missed out on the joke.
“I bet that line works on all the ladies.” She recrosses her arms and I can see her walls come up, closing herself off from me.
My brows furrow in genuine confusion. “What line?”
“The whole ‘oh, I would’ve recognized a woman as beautiful as you’ line that all conceited men use,” she says with a terrible impression of a male voice.
My brows climb as my eyes go wide. “I can honestly say, I’ve never used that line on a woman before, including right now. But I can also honestly say, you are beautiful. It wasn’t a line.”