Squeeze Play

by Aven Ellis

  “Change is scary,” Ethan says. “It’s easier to embrace the status quo than take a risk.”

  “Keep picking your spots,” Dad says, reaching for the silver knife and slicing into the lemon tart. “Don’t expect to be rewarded. Not all bosses sing praise. But that doesn’t mean your work isn’t being noticed.”

  Mom hands me a cup of coffee, and I run my finger around the porcelain rim, knowing they are all right, but also knowing it’s going to be hard for me to keep my enthusiasm under wraps at work when there’s so much I can do to help.

  If only people would let me.

  I exhale and reach for the creamer. Okay, plain coffee would be healthier, but if I’m giving up that homemade lemon curd tart with a perfect buttery crumb crust, I’m having cream in my coffee.

  Maybe I need to listen to my parents and Ethan and not offer as many ideas. I should be quiet and helpful, and try to blend in. That is something I know how to do, but I truly thought once I was in the professional world, I wouldn’t have to do that. I thought my ideas would be met with interest and that my proposal would be met with approval and an “atta girl.”

  Ugh. I really need to see if there is a chapter in my book about managing disappointment and being realistic about the workplace.

  “Ethan, are you keeping up with your orders?” Mom asks, shifting the conversation.

  I swirl creamer into my cup. Ethan has found early success as a designer and works for himself building custom pieces for interior designers. That’s how he met Jessica. She was looking for someone to build a dining room table for one of her clients. She found her table—as well as her husband—when she stepped into his workshop.

  As they talk about orders and trends, my mind drifts. Brody would be a good person to talk to about my work troubles. He’s had to work his way up to the majors, so I know he’s dealt with all kinds of people and managers. Plus, there is something about the way Brody looks at life that makes me feel so much better.

  Peaceful, I think. Whenever I talk to Brody and I’m anxious or wound up, he makes me feel peaceful.

  And our date on FaceTime can’t come fast enough.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The second Brody’s smiling face appears on my phone, happiness sweeps over me. I’ve been looking forward to this call all day. My heart skips a beat in response to seeing him.

  “Hey, Cherry Blossom,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “How are you?”

  Bliss fills me every time the words “Cherry Blossom” escape his sensual lips.

  “I’m good now that I get to see you,” I say, resting against the stack of pillows on my bed.

  “Me, too. AJ is my best friend on the team, but I’d much rather have dinner with you,” Brody says.

  Ooh!

  “I can’t wait for our dinner on Monday,” I say. “Where are we going? Do you want poke?”

  “No, I want something special. It’s our first dinner date; this is important.”

  An excited tingle races down my spine. I love that this date means as much to him as it does to me.

  “So what are you thinking?” I ask.

  “Somewhere intimate and dark, with an excellent wine list.”

  I swear, if I’m not half in love with him by the dessert course, it will be a miracle.

  “Are you thinking steak?” I ask hopefully.

  “Do you like steak?” Brody asks, his raspy voice low.

  “That wasn’t the question.”

  A slow, sexy smile spreads across his face.

  “No, it wasn’t, but yes, I am. If you like steak, that is.”

  “I love a filet. That is my favorite cut. It’s like butter when it’s prepared right.”

  “And how should it be prepared to make you happy?”

  “Medium-rare, with a velvety wine sauce to dip it in and a big bold red wine to drink with it. “

  “Sounds luscious,” Brody says, his eyes dropping to my mouth.

  Who knew discussing steak could be hot?

  Focus, Hayley, focus.

  “How about you? Do you like steak?” I ask.

  “I do. I like a bone-in tomahawk ribeye.”

  “That’s a big steak,” I say.

  A sly grin spreads across his face. “I’m a big guy.”

  My face grows warm at the innuendo, but then Brody begins to laugh, which makes me laugh, too.

  “I do like it medium-rare, just like you.”

  “We’re steak compatible.”

  His denim-blue eyes shine back at me. “We are.”

  Half in love with him by the dessert course? I’m delusional. I’ll be half in love with him before the appetizers are brought out, and totally in love with him by dessert at this rate.

  “All right,” Brody says. “I’m thinking the full dining experience, appetizers to dessert, at a nice steak place. Sound good?”

  “It sounds perfect.”

  “Then I’ll make a reservation and give you all the details when it’s set,” he says. “How was dinner at your parents?”

  “It was fun,” I say, thinking of how well Brody would fit in at our family table. “But when we started talking about my job, I don’t know, I felt unsettled.”

  Brody’s expression shifts to one of concern. “Talk to me. Is this about your social media proposal?”

  He really does listen, I think. Somehow, he keeps up with my endless babble and not only listens but remembers what I’ve said.

  “Yes,” I say, nodding.

  “Your boss approved it,” Brody says. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  I feel stupid admitting this next part to him. I mean, admitting your needs to your family who knows you is one thing, but I feel vulnerable admitting these feelings to Brody.

  I nod. “Yes, but I was hoping there would be some recognition of the detail I put in, the initiative I took during my first week, and my willingness to run with it and truly bring our presence up across multiple platforms. All she said was, ‘Okay, you can do it.’”

  Brody appears to be considering my words before he answers.

  “You feel as though your work needs to be validated.”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s stupid, isn’t it?”

  “Why is that stupid? In an ideal world, we would all be validated for doing things right.”

  “But look at you. I doubt your managers tell you great game every time you have one.”

  “Actually, I do get that validation with the Soaring Eagles. It’s a positive clubhouse. We have each other’s backs. If we lose, we lose together. Our manager worked hard to build the right attitude when we were in spring training. My experience in Miami wasn’t like that. There were some divisive personalities on that team. There were people who laid blame on others in the media and a manager who didn’t know how to manage those personalities, so I do get what you are saying.”

  “Brody, I wish I didn’t need this feedback, but I do. I want her to be happy with what I’m doing. I want Belinda to find me helpful. My parents told me to be patient and to go back under the radar a bit. They suggested I do the work I’ve given myself with this project but ask for nothing more. Be quiet, do my job. But I’ve done that my whole life. Be quiet and don’t mix things up. I wanted my adult life to be different. I want to change things. I want to talk about ideas and evolving. I want to do so much more, and I don’t feel like I can in this environment. What if Belinda always wants me to follow the same routine that has existed?” I realize my words are getting faster and anxiety is springing up in my chest. “What if I repress who I am and nothing gets better? What if my dream organization will never let me do wh—”

  “Take a deep breath,” Brody says, interrupting me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Take a deep breath,” he says gently.

  I do as I’m told, inhaling deeply and slowly exhaling.

  “Close your eyes,” Brody says.

  I close my eyes.

  “Can you imagine yourself being calm?”

  I take a mo
ment to picture calm. Then Brody continues by asking me what image comes to mind when I think of being settled and peaceful.

  An image of Brody flashes in my head. I see him smiling at me, with the dimple in his cheek out and his pale-blue eyes shining.

  “What do you hear when you feel calm?” he asks quietly.

  Your voice, I think in my head.

  There’s a pause as I continue to visualize his face and hear his voice with my eyes closed.

  “What do you feel?”

  “Calm,” I say.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I open my eyes and exhale slowly. Brody is what brings me to calm. He has the ability to stop my thoughts when they begin to race and bring me to a place where I slow down and breathe.

  He is my calm.

  “How do you do that?” I ask, amazed.

  “Do what?”

  “You made me feel peaceful.”

  “That was a little meditation. Mom and Dad taught us to practice it every day. It used to be another thing I hated while growing up. None of my friends had to meditate or reflect or do what I thought was weird shit, but as with most of their teachings, they did me a favor. I do it all the time and it helps. It brings me back to what is important and helps me focus.”

  “Thank you for making me slow down,” I say quietly. “I’m not always good at that.”

  “Don’t lose sight of who you want to be, Hayley,” Brody urges me. “I know I’m telling you the opposite of what your parents advised you, and shit, what the hell do I know about working in an office, but your energy is contagious. I’d hate to see that bottled up inside, waiting for the right chance to come out. I think you are there for a reason, and that reason might be to shake up how they think and do things. That won’t happen if you aren’t you.”

  I bite my lip. I’m on the verge of tears.

  Brody sees me in a way no other person ever has.

  He sees me as a snow globe, the person who shakes things up and sprinkles down glitter, just like he’s doing for me.

  And in this moment, I know I’m falling in love with him.

  “Thank you for telling me this,” I say, my voice catching. I take a moment to clear my throat. “Nobody has ever seen me this way.”

  I see emotion flickering in Brody’s eyes.

  “I see you,” he says, “and I like what I see, Hayley. I like it a lot.”

  I grow even more emotional. I know he’s speaking from his heart, and I’m about to speak from mine, too.

  “I’m glad you saw me in the coffeehouse, and you still liked what you saw, despite my babbling and my throwing a drink on you. You still saw me, and I saw you, Brody. I found this intelligent man who was quick with his thoughts, and I was absolutely smitten.“

  “Smitten?”

  “An absolute smitten kitten for you.”

  Brody’s whole face lights up upon hearing this admission.

  “I think you might just have a new nickname.”

  We both laugh.

  “Speaking of kittens, where’s Pissy?” Brody asks.

  I smile. I love how much he adores my kitten.

  “Pissy is sleeping in her bed, but she’s already looking forward to you coming home. I know these things.”

  “And how about her gorgeous owner? Is she looking forward to my return from Boston?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  We continue to talk until it’s way late. Once again, this man has made me lose all track of time. Whenever I’m with Brody, there’s never enough of it. I love how our conversations range from heartfelt sentiments to teasing to talking about what happened in our day. They are wide-ranging and revealing, and unlike conversations I’ve ever had with anyone in my life.

  Brody yawns and quickly apologizes.

  “I’m sorry about that, but I should probably go. Early game tomorrow. Even if I’m not catching,” he adds, smiling at me.

  “Okay,” I say, nodding.

  “I’ll text you when I’m up,” Brody says.

  “I’d like that,” I say happily.

  “Goodnight,” Brody says.

  “Goodnight,” I say.

  I exit our chat and put the phone down beside me. It’s two o’clock in the morning, but I know I won’t sleep anytime soon.

  For the first time in my life, I’m falling in love.

  I know, without a doubt, taking a chance on Brody is the best decision I’ve ever made.

  With that thought in my head, I get up to get ready for bed, knowing when I do finally drift off, there will be one thing in my dreams tonight, and one thing only.

  My dreams will be filled with one very special baseball player.

  And the man who is on the verge of stealing my heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Ultimate Modern Girl’s Guide to Self-Motivation, Zen, and Being the Absolute Best You Now!

  Today’s Question: How does your partner make you feel loved?

  I stare back at my reflection in the full-length mirror, feeling more beautiful than I ever have.

  I run my hands down the bodice of my white and crimson floral fit and flare dress, admiring my appearance. The V-neck is deep, deeper than anything I’ve ever worn, but when I tried it on at the boutique with my mom yesterday, she assured me it was absolutely lovely, both in the fitting room and at the register, when she treated me to the new outfit for my date with Brody.

  Lovely.

  I smile as I gaze at my image. I want to look lovely and surprising for dinner tonight. That’s why, instead of a little black dress, I choose a bright, feminine pattern. The dress is sleeveless and hits above my knee, and when I twirl, it floats around me. The darting on it is sublime. It even has discreet pockets; how adorable is that?

  I clipped up some of my blonde layers with embellished hair pins, which look beautiful when the light hits them. A stack of my grandmother’s pearl bracelets on my left wrist and a pair of nude-colored ankle-strap high heels finish the outfit. Brody promised me dinner would be intimate and posh, and I want to be an elegant lady on his arm tonight.

  I study my makeup. I went a little smokier on the eyes, using some metallic shadows to make my brown-gold eyes pop. For the first time ever, I’m wearing red on my lips, a gorgeous cherry color. And of course, I’ve sprayed the scent that Brody loves, cardamom and mimosa, on my wrists and neck where he’s sure to get a whiff of it.

  I’ve never put this much effort into getting ready for a date before.

  Probably because a date has never mattered to me like this one does.

  This is a formal date, one that will be elegant and fancy and shows how highly Brody thinks of me. The first night he has off from baseball, he wants to spend it creating a memorable evening for us. I know he has to be tired. I know he must have things at home he needs to catch up on.

  Ha-ha, catch. Brody is good at that.

  I take one final look, checking for panty lines but I’m smart enough to do it in private this time. Satisfied there are none, I practically float down the hall on a cloud of happiness, going back to my original thought. I would understand if he simply wanted to grab takeout and spend the night on the couch, but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s putting on a suit and tie and he’s taking me out to an elegant dinner.

  Which says everything about him that I like.

  That I’m beginning to love.

  I enter the living room and see Katie on the couch.

  “Oh, my, Hayley, you look beautiful,” Katie says, her eyes wide.

  “Thank you. Could you help me zip up the back all the way? I couldn’t reach it.”

  “Of course.” Katie puts down her highlighter and textbook and rises.

  I turn, and she works the zipper up and then smooths the material out. “All set.”

  “Thank you,” I say, turning back around to face her. Excitement sweeps over me. “I still can’t believe this is real. An adult date in DC. With Brody.”

  “It’s so real,” Katie says, clasping my hands in hers. “And I’
m so happy for you.”

  “If I can find it, so can you,” I say, squeezing her hands reassuringly. “I know you’ve been looking for that guy, Katie, but my gut tells me as soon as you quit searching, you’ll find him.”

  I see a wistful expression enter Katie’s green eyes. Katie is a hopeless romantic, one who loves love, and has been disappointed and hurt in the past but has never given up on finding someone special.

  “Maybe that’s true. Besides, I need to get through this last semester. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet The One in the coffeehouse while I’m messing up a drink order.”

  I laugh. Katie is going to move to full-time hours as soon as the semester is finished, but she’s a terrible barista. They always have her serving customers and plating pastries, and she’s only allowed to make coffee in a short-handed emergency.

  “No, if you want him to come back, you can’t make his drink,” I tease.

  “Ha-ha. So funny. But true.”

  The intercom buzzes.

  “Brody!” we both squeal at the same time.

  I head over to the intercom and push the button. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Hayley, it’s Brody. May I come up?”

  I grin as I answer. “Yes.”

  I allow him to enter the building, and Katie scoops up her stuff.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I will be in my room,” Katie says, grinning at me.

  As she goes down the hall, I know she’s walked by Pissy because I hear hissing.

  “Oh, you’re so tough, you tiny ball of terror fluff,” Katie teases. Then I hear her bedroom door close.

  I pace anxiously while I wait for Brody. I know he has a nice restaurant planned for dinner, and we talked about watching movies afterward, but late this afternoon, Brody texted me and said we’d save the movie night for later in the week. He told me he had something better in mind but wanted it to be a surprise.

  Ooh, I love being surprised.

  Which Brody has done since the day I met him. He’s continually surprised me with the man he is. His maturity. His relaxed, zen-like attitude. His intelligence, quickness, and thoughtfulness.

  He’s everything my heart wants, wrapped in a package I never expected.