“Okay, yeah. Nice talking to you, too.”
Pause.
“I will. Kay. Bye.” Kim hangs up, puts my phone back down on the table, and turns to smiles and me.
“What the hell just happened, Kim?”
“I can’t believe that I just talked to The Gun. I cannot believe that I am going to meet him! Eek!”
“He’s not seriously coming over, is he?”
“Yeah, he is. And he instructed me to stay put so that way I can make sure that you don’t avoid him.”
“I wouldn’t avoid him.”
“Bullshit. You weren’t going to answer his call. He said you haven’t answered any of his calls.”
“To be fair, I didn’t answer any of yours either, or my mom’s.”
“Wait. Are you breaking up with me, too?” Kim pouts.
Knock! Knock!
“What the!” I look at the door. “Where was he?” My jaw drops.
“Downstairs?” her voice hitches as she shrugs nonchalantly.
“Do you not see me? I look… I look…” I’m frantically motioning to my clothes as Kim walks around the couch and answers the door.
Kim shrieks at Gunnar as she lets him into my place then I hear low murmurs as I’m stuck in my place.
Gunnar steps out of the small hallway and steps forward.
“Hi,” he says nervously.
“Hey.” I offer him a small smile as I’m still frozen on the couch.
SEVEN
GUNNAR
SAWYER IS PERCHED on her couch, as if she’s frozen in place. Her hair is in a tight ponytail, her face makeup-less and her clothing is relaxed. She’s wearing a loose shirt, that hugs her breasts and shows off her cleavage perfectly. I can’t see her pants, but I see they are plaid and they look like pajamas. She looks beautiful.
I’m nervous as all hell, especially since I wasn’t completely sure where we stood when I left last night. I warned her about the possibility of some news happening since Melinda and I were photographed leaving together out of chance. I can only assume that was the reasoning for her not answering my texts and calls today.
“Hi,” I say, my nerves getting the best of me as I put my hands in my pockets.
“Hey,” she says shyly.
“So, I’m going to go and leave you two lovebirds to it. It was nice to meet you Gunnar, big fan, like if things don’t work out here, I’d gladly have some of your babies, just to say that my babies will be beautiful and maybe even have a really nice ass with a killer throwing arm, yeah – that.” her friend says awkwardly from the hallway with two thumbs up and as she exits Sawyer’s apartment, leaving us alone.
“She’s interesting,” I point out.
“Yeah, she’s one of a kind that’s for sure.” Sawyer smiles and then crosses her arms over her chest. “Gunnar, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. And since you weren’t returning calls or messages, here I am. I can’t stay long, but I need to see you. I need to see for myself that you are okay?”
“Gunnar, this stuff hasn’t gone away,” she says quietly while shaking her head.
“I know. I’m working on it. I promise you, but it’s not an overnight thing. I have to talk to the Skipper and see if he can do anything. There’s recon to do here and I’m working on it.” I reply with determination. “I just wanted to see you, see if you were okay.”
“I know what was said wasn’t true. And I’m okay, I really am,” she replies quietly.
“I still needed to see for myself. I’ve got to go. I have a game that I should be warming up for.”
“Play hard.”
“Or not at all.” I smile, and shut the door behind me, hoping that she will let me back in again.
IT WAS the bottom of the ninth, sweat was dripping down my back as I kneel down behind the plate, the blue at my back held steady as Bently’s curveball crashes into my mitt.
“Striiiiiiike!” the blue belts out.
I throw the ball back to Bently and await the next batter, and hopefully the last. This game played quickly, and all I could think about doing now was to make my phone call to speak to the Skipper about our PR and what was happening.
The batter hits a double and the player on deck advances to the batter’s box. He shuffles his feet against the dirt, wraps, and unwraps his gloves several times in his routine as he gets ready and in his batter stance. I signal to Bently and nod that I’m ready, and the fastball is in my mitt before I can blink. The blue calls three strikes, and I’m barreling to the dugout. I’m unsnapping my gear, shoving it all into my duffel bag, and then heading to the clubhouse within minutes. I’m the first in the area, as I drop my bag in front of my cage and then pull a chair over to the Skipper’s office to wait for him to come down. The clubhouse soon fills with chatter from the rest of the team, followed by management. Skipper sees me in front of his door and nods. I open the door and step inside with him on my heels. He rounds his desk, and I sit down in the worn leather chair in front of his heavy wooden desk.
“What can I do for you, Gun?” he asks, leaning forward on his elbows.
“Sir, I wanted to speak with you about our PR matters.”
“Shouldn’t that be discussed with what’s her name?” he asks.
“She’s the one I have issues with, sir.”
“You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” he automatically accuses.
“No, sir.” I say watching him breathe a sigh of relief.
“Then what is it?”
“She has been adding false facts to reports and causing tension in my new relationship. She told me that she has been exaggerating what she has told the press. I mean c’mon Skip; this has nothing to do with the team. Why would she need to report on it, tell them a whole bunch of shit about my personal life, and lies on top of that?”
“She’s in PR, son, she must have a good reason for it.”
“She told the press that my girlfriend is playing me and that she’s not just dating me but also some other guy. That has nothing to do with the team that is an attack on my girl. In turn, creating a shit storm of hell for her professionally and personally.”
“To be honest, I don’t read anything in the paper unless it’s about the team in the sports section. I will take a look and then from there, I will speak to her superiors.”
“Can I ask when? I need some sort of assurance for my girl.”
“I’ll look at it today. I’m sorry your girlfriend is getting the short end of the stick. By the way, I’m glad to hear that you are finally settling down. I didn’t think that you would ever have an actual girlfriend.” He winks at me and laughs as I stand up.
The next morning, Skipper calls me to tell me that Melinda has been suspended and will be reassigned to a different division within the media team. In other words, she’s on desk duty. There was going to be a retraction to several of the news stories that have gone out, along with a public apology letter. I fist pump the air as I listen to the Skipper tell me about his conversation with the PR Company. Melinda told them that she believed it would be in the best interest of me as a player to get played and to make up lies about someone whose only involvement with the team was that she was dating me.
When I hang up, I drive straight to Sawyer’s work. I knew that going to her place of employment was probably stupid, but it’s the middle of that day and I’m desperate. I park in the parking lot and then shake my head.
If I am barging into her work, I need to show up prepared. I restart and pull the Jeep out of the parking spot and drive to the closest grocery store. I head to the deli and order sandwiches, hoping that she did not bring lunch today. Then I walk over to the floral section and pick out a colorful flower arrangement. Once I am satisfied with my pickings, I head back to her office. The Jeep is parked, and I’m rubbing my hands against the tops of my thighs, wiping the perspiration and taking a few deep calming breaths. There’s no use just sitting in the car freaking out, so I get out and make my way to the front doors.
I open the glass entrance door and smile at the receptionist who smiles back and then blinks hard when she recognizes me. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. I saunter up to her desk and ask for Sawyer. The receptionist stands and leads me along a maze of cubicles and glass walls until we reach our destination. Sawyer has her back to us and is on the phone. The receptionist leaves me to it, pats me on the shoulder and smiles.
When Sawyer hangs up the phone, I hear her take a deep breath. I clear my throat and tap on the side of her cubicle. I see a small jolt of surprise at the intrusion and then she swivels in her chair to face me.
“These are for you,” I say holding out the flowers. Then with my other hand, I hold up the bag of sandwiches. “And these are for us. I was hoping that we could eat lunch together.”
She smiles and removes the purse sitting on the chair against the wall of the cubicle.
“It depends, what did you bring for lunch?” she smiles and tilts her head.
“Sandwiches and an abundance of apologies.”
She motions for me to take a seat and I gladly do. I put everything on her desk, scoot the chair closer to her and grab her hands in mine.
“I need to start out with I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for that shit to be said about you and the papers attacking your character. It was uncalled for and very unprofessional of our team’s PR person to do so. She’s since been removed and no longer a factor.”
“I don’t want her to lose her job!” she says sweetly.
“Babe. She publicly shamed you, brought up drama in your job, your personal life and between us. I don’t care if she gets fired, she could have ruined our relationship and no one should do that.”
“Our relationship?”
“This thing between you and I… yeah our relationship,” I start. “Please take me back. I’m not above begging. I will get down on my hands and knees in front of everyone here.”
“Please don’t,” she shakes her head.
“So, will you give me another chance?”
“No,” she says without a skip. “There’s no reason for another chance when you were blindsided with this as well. What I should have done was not try to tune you out, but I should have taken this whole thing on with you. I shouldn’t have let you go to bat for me when it involved me just as much.”
“Have you ever heard of a clutch?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a bunch of them in my closet.”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, it’s a baseball term. It’s a term for performance under pressure, when that performance really matters. This thing with you and me really matters to me. Once I found out the details behind those news reports, I went to bat for you, for me and for us. For this.” I hold my hand out to her.
“Is everything always going to resort to baseball terms with you?”
“That’s what happens when you date a baseball player!”
“Great. I guess I better get more invested into the game.”
“As long as you’re wearing my number, I’ll be happy.”
EIGHT
DEAR FANS of the San Diego Hornets, fans of Gunnar “The Gun” Reynolds, friends, acquaintances, and family of Sawyer Rotham,
This is an apology that comes from the bottom of my heart; I will keep it short but meaningful.
First, I want to say that I never intended any harsh thoughts or ill intent on the lies that I exaggerated to news sources. I simply thought that I was doing right by my job, yet I brought it into the personal realm instead of focusing on the team itself. I made it gossip, and for that I apologize wholeheartedly.
Second, I apologize to the friends, acquaintances, and family of Sawyer. I should never have dragged her name through the flames as I did. It was morally wrong of me to do so. It was not fair and none of which was reported was in any way true.
Next, I apologize to the San Diego Hornets, the players, management and fans. I created lies, thinking that they would earn more news. I was supposed to be bringing positive light to the organization, and instead I did nothing for the team and only for the type of news that belongs in the magazines at supermarket checkouts. I used my position for all the wrong reasons.
LASTLY, I would like to apologize to Gunnar Reynolds. You did nothing to deserve the hateful words that were said, all of which were fabricated out of jealousy and the need for fame. I thank you for the time of friendship that you bestowed upon me when I first started with the team, and I am remorseful for my actions and loss of friendships. I sincerely hope that Sawyer and your relationship can shine brighter than any star; I have no doubt that it will.
IN SINCERE REGARDS,
Melinda Pittman
Hornet’s Media Relations
PART TWO
4 YEARS LATER
ONE
SAWYER
LIFE HAS BEEN nice to me in the past few years. I have an amazing career, an unconventional network of friends, and an incredible man in my life.
It has been four years since I met Gunnar Reynolds and truly became his biggest fan. I’ve been living the life of the girlfriend of a player - a baseball player - and my days are never boring.
Baseball season was starting up again, and Gunnar is getting ready for a month-long busy schedule to prepare for the upcoming season. Half of that time, I would be in Scottsdale with the Hornets, following their practices, and getting one on one interviews with the prospects for the up-coming year. The other half of the time, I would be back here in San Diego - working my day-to-day, filling the time with lunches with the wives and girlfriends of other players and missing Gunnar.
My years are not calendar-by-calendar, but season to season - and all the craziness was just about to begin.
“It’s going to be nuts being away from you for so long.” Gunnar says placing his away bag onto the bed.
“I mean, it sucks - but I’ll be in Arizona soon enough and then it won’t be so bad.” I shrug, trying to convince not only him, but myself as well.
“Yeah, but I’ll be so freaking tired by the time I come to the room, that I will be of no use to you.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever been out of use, Gun,” I tease him.
He looks at me for a moment and then a slow smile forms to his lips.
“Okay, you’re right. But still,” he replies with a playful pout as he stuffs clothes into his bag.
“We do this every year; it’s not our first rodeo.” I remind him. “I’ll see you in a few weeks and it will be as if time never got away from us.”
He pushes his away bag to the side of him and pulls me close. He pushes my honey brown hair off of my shoulder, wraps the length around his palm. He angles my head and takes my mouth with his with full heat.
Our tongues twist together. His hand releases my hair and moves to hold my hips. He pulls me flush against him and grinds his hips against mine as he groans into my mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You see, I need this every day. I can’t abstain from you for that long without going completely crazy,” he says with his lips moving against mine.
“It’s the time of year when you just have to make sure your iPad and your phone are fully charged by the time you get back to the house. That way, until we’re back together - we can… you know.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Argh. I hate this,” he says in frustration as he pulls my shirt over my head. “Can’t I just put you in my luggage?”
“We have the house rental all set, right?” I ask, confirming that when I arrive that we will have our room all to ourselves.
“I made the arrangements myself, with the help of course from a few of the guys, who own homes in the area.”
Gunnar used to bunk with one of the other guys who rented a house during spring training, but since we’ve been together – it’s been nice to have our own space. We do the same sometimes for away games too. While I don’t travel exclusively with the team, I’m at as many games as I can be at during the season. Luckily, with my number one client, being the team – I
can always be using the excuse to be working if I must be at a game. After the first year, the team’s coaches nicknamed me Chainsaw to add an edge to my name. Apparently, calling me Saw wasn’t something that he like and since I’ve become a part of the Hornets Family, and most of everyone that I came across in the franchise had a nickname, I stopped fighting it. Chainsaw was kind of bad ass, anyways.
“Enough with the talking. I want to get my full fill up on my lady before I have to do anything else.”
He unhooks my bra and his hands replace the fabric as he pinches my nipples and pulls on them slightly. My back arches and I moan into the nearly silent room.
His mouth travels down the column of my neck with nips from his teeth and light sucking as he leaves open mouth kisses in his wake. He lowers himself to his knees and begins to pull the button of my shorts through the grommet hole. He tugs at the waistband and pulls my panties down as well. He leans in and inhales at the crest of my pubic bone.
“Fuck. You smell divine.” He groans as his tongue peeks out and lashes against my center.
His big hands are placed on the back of my thighs as he eats at me. The sensations overtaking my body and making me want more as I grab him by the jaw and pull him up before my knees completely buckle and I can no longer stand.
“Want you.” I say directing his face to mine.
Gunnar’s hands roam across my back, adding pressure and pulling me tightly against him as our mouths make love to one another, while I step out of my shorts and fumble with getting a grip on his sweatpants waistband.
“Need you.” I say into our kiss.
I’M STANDING at the trunk of my car as Gunnar pulls out his personal equipment bag. He places it beside him and reaches back into the trunk to grab his bag. The majority of equipment and uniforms that he will need are already on the bus, he just brings what he needs and a few lucky items that he cannot part with. While he may not see as much action as the rookies do during Spring Training, he will still be as heavily involved as he normally is during the actual season.
Clutch Endgame Page 6
