“Oh hush! You’re absolutely stunning, Pres.” Up until recently, Presley didn’t know an ugly day even if it bit her on the butt.
“I feel like a beached whale.” I roll my eyes. Oh please, you waddle around with twins and then you can talk to me about feeling like a whale.
“It’s only gonna get worse.” I don’t see the point in sugar coating.
“Thanks for the positive outlook.”
Robert chuckles at our witty banter.
“Just being honest. Besides, no one is going to be looking at you. Tonight is all about the players. You’re just supposed to be arm candy.” Now Robert rolls his eyes. That’s so not true. Tonight is all about you. Please don’t kill me.
“And what kind of candy am I supposed to be exactly, because currently I feel like a big, fat, gumball.”
I giggle then mumble under my breath, “Well you act more like a warhead.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Are you dressed yet? Let me see you.”
She turns the corner, stepping out from her bathroom in a flowing royal blue gown, a single strap covering one shoulder. Her hair is done up with gold chandelier earrings framing her face.
“Wow.” Robert’s response to her appearance is all that needs to be said. She blushes as he makes his way over to her and I can tell she feels better than she has in weeks. “Tonight, I’m the luckiest guy there, sorry Liv, Trey is a close second.”
“None taken.” After all, this night is meant to be all about her.
She shifts under our gaze, looking everywhere except at us. “Okay, let’s go, the sooner we show our faces the sooner we can leave.”
“Calm yourself, the car will be here shortly.”
Robert places a hand low on her back in an attempt to settle her nerves. “You sure you’re up for this?” I want to slap him. Why on earth is he giving her an opportunity to back out? God, men can be so dense.
“Do I have a choice?”
I know if Robert says anything, Presley will be back in her pajamas in no time flat. “No. You do not have a choice. You need to get out of this house, P. It’s just for a few hours. Give that little girl a taste of the finer things in life.”
She rolls her eyes at me and Robert kisses her cheek.
“Car’s here.” Trey calls from the foyer. Presley hesitates for a moment, causing all our breaths to hitch, but then moves towards the door.
The forty-five-minute drive to the stadium is kept light, Trey and Robert talking about his deal with the White Sox and what the franchise honestly expects of him. Presley seems interested as always. So far everything is going according to plan, Presley doesn’t suspect a thing, and even the abnormally crowded parking lot doesn’t catch her attention.
The driver opens the door and Robert is the first out, extending his hand to help Pres while Trey and I follow behind. We take the elevator up to the club level where tonight’s festivities are being held and as the doors open we are greeted by a wave of applause. Presley is up front and center in the elevator with Robert standing just behind her while Trey and I stand on either side of the elevator holding the doors open.
“I…I don’t understand.” Her eyes glance to each of us before Robert whispers to her.
“Congratulations, babe. Tonight is all about you and the wonder that is Donovan West.”
* * *
We did it. Presley is stunned and the turn-out is better than Liv led me to believe. As soon as we step off the elevator, she has people coming up to hug and congratulate her on her success. My bewildered princess moves hesitantly through the crowd as I usher her into the dining room.
Seated at our table are of course Liv and Trey, Marcus and Liz, who have recently started dating, Coach and Dr. Ward, I knew having him here would put Presley at ease, and Rick and Laura.
Presley looks around the hall, taking everything in. “Liv? Did you have me plan my own party?” The girls at the table all seem to laugh.
“I just wanted it to be perfect for you.”
Presley shakes her head at the absurdity of it.
As I pull out her chair and push her in, I fold over her shoulder to kiss her cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” My breath lingers, goosebumps appearing down her arm as my finger-tips brush across her exposed back and over her shoulders.
“You planned this?” She almost seems shocked at the lengths I would go to surprise her.
“I’d do anything for you. And as you can see, so would the people in this room. You’re an amazing woman, Presley, and you deserved to be reminded of that. You’ve touched each of these people in one way or another, you’ve given them something special. You’ve given me something special. This was the only way I could think of to say thank you.”
She leans over, her lips brushing against mine as she conveys her gratitude.
Dinner is served, and soon the speeches begin. The first is a gentleman in his mid-forties, clean shaven, professional looking, but slightly disheveled. “Well, I guess I’ll go ahead and get the night started. I’m Scott Neilson, and the first recruiter to get the privilege of working with Donovan.
“The day the Donovan West Agency was created I was looking at a college player, Bruce Allen, to bring up to the minors. I was talking with another scout, when this pretty girl with blonde hair interrupted us, claiming she could get this unknown player where he needed to be in a month’s time, and she would even do it for free! Now, I understand her prices have gone up substantially since then.”
There are several chuckles around the room, and I scoot my chair close to Pres, draping my arm across the back as she snuggles into me while we continue to listen.
“I was definitely skeptical, but I was desperate, and she sounded like she knew what she was talking about, so I gave her a chance. One month later and countless hours of field time, my recruit had four different offers.”
I glance at Presley who seems to be recalling the events being described.
“Donovan, without you I would not be where I am today. Bruce would not be where he is today. None of us would be where we are today, if it wasn’t for you.
“So from the bottom of my heart, and with all due sincerity, thank you for interrupting that day. You have changed more players, teams, and people than you probably realize.”
The room erupts in applause and a standing ovation as a tear slides down her cheek, a truly humbling experience to be able to share this moment with her. The room eventually quiets, and another person takes the stage.
He’s a player I recognize from the Colorado Rockies.
“Hi Everyone.” He offers a nervous wave. “Donovan.” He looks directly at her and she waves back. “I’m Bruce Allen, the first player that Donovan ever worked with, I guess you could say I was her guinea pig.
“When I met her that first day, my immediate thought was how is this girl supposed to help me. But those of you that have gotten the privilege of working with Donovan, know what a mistake I made, probably because you made the same mistake. Come on now, raise your hand if you screwed up in the first five seconds of meeting her.”
Hands fly into the air and once again the room erupts in laughter. She looks over at me and gives me that look. “Both your hands need to be up.” She laughs along with our table, Rick undoubtably is the loudest, and somehow I feel like I did the day she came to save my life.
“But in all seriousness, I knew within minutes of working with her, that not only would she improve my game, she would change me as a person, I just had to trust her. Throughout our time together, I could tell she had been hurt, though she never talked about it, she used her pain to fuel her career. Preventing future jack asses, one client at a time.
“I became a better individual, which turned me into a better boyfriend, husband, and now, father.”
I watch as his eyes travel to a brunette in the back who blows him a kiss.
“So thank you D. And to whoever that ass was, thanks for giving us all one hell of a girl.”
A
pit settles in my stomach. Presley had told me about the name, but I never imagined others would have seen past her tough exterior. But whatever she said, whatever she did, something was there enough that Bruce Allen had figured out I had hurt her.
Tonight was her night; but suddenly I felt as if I were scum of the earth. It didn’t help either when Bruce raised his glass and toasted the asshole. All around us glasses were raised, but uncomfortable glances were passed between the members at our table, all but Liz of course, who was still on a need to know basis and oblivious to her surroundings.
Presley shifts in her seat, reaching for my hand and pulling it across her chest, nuzzling into my neck, her voice soft and delicate, “I never stopped loving you.”
The rest of the night continues on with an additional twenty people speaking on Presley’s behalf. Each one telling stories of their time with her and what they got out of it. Through this experience, it’s almost as if I’m given back part of the time we were apart. I’m seeing this incredible woman through the eyes of some of the hardest working athletes competing today.
As the night continues, I slip away secretly and make my way up to the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate one of the best people in this industry.
“MLB, MBA, NFL, NHL, NSL. Usually you wouldn’t think any of these acronyms would have anything in common, but tonight it’s clear that we all do. We all have that beautiful woman over there, my beautiful wife.
“I have seen her on the field with some of you. I have witnessed the countless hours she puts into watching tapes, going over stats, formulating plans and working with her two partners. Even though you may not get the pleasure of working with her in person, please know that she is just as involved in your success as when she created this company.
“I want to thank you again for coming out to celebrate this amazing woman. I know that all of you mean a great deal to her. So once again, please raise your glasses and toast the woman of the night: to Donovan West.”
“To Donovan,” the room says in unison before the sound of applause fills the hall and people once again rise to give her a standing ovation.
She stands to thank them, and then, with a quick nod from Dr. Ward, she begins to make her way up on stage. I step back but she grabs my hand, standing there side by side as she lets the applause die down before speaking.
“I am truly honored to be here tonight with all of you. And thank you for all the kind words and humorous stories you have shared throughout the evening.
“But this celebration would not be completed without one final story, the story of how Donovan West was created, and that story belongs to this man right here.”
Squeezing my hand, her emerald eyes sparkle as she looks into my mine, wrapping her arm around my arm and holding me close. It’s time to face the music.
“Bruce, you toasted the asshole, but in the end I married him.”
Slight chuckles circle the room along with hushed murmurs.
“Robert West was my first and only love, but we were young, stupid, and stubborn. We were trying to figure out life together when things fell apart. Without the pain of our past, I never would have put so much time or energy into doing what I love. My anger towards him, combined with my love for him, created who I became. Donovan was my last name, and West was his.”
She dips her head for a second, allowing the room to see her fully for the first time. I kiss her forehead before she continues.
“Scott, when your friend asked me to take on Robert West, I knew it was only a matter of time before we were once again reunited. And that story goes to my trickster of a friend Olivia Ryan, who by the way got me to pick the décor for tonight without even knowing what was going on.”
Slight laughter gives her a moment to pause.
“But as much as I want to take all the credit for my success, I would not be here today, and I would not be the woman I am without him. He helped create me. So, thank you all so very much for tonight, but thank you Robert for touching my heart and never letting go.”
Even on a night that is supposed to be centered around her, she somehow manages to deflect attention. Batting her eyes, and with a playful smirk, she raises to her tiptoes and pulls me closer to her, my arms wrapping securely around her, kissing her passionately.
Applauses and whistles create the soundtrack for this moment, her tongue delving deep, wrapping around mine as she puts on a little show for everyone before pulling apart, beet red and in laughter.
“I don’t know how you’re ever going to top this Valentine’s,” she whispers in my ear before lowering herself back down.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something.” I return her playful smirk and place my hand across her stomach as she looks at me in awe.
We exit the stage and make our way back to the table where people come to say their final goodbyes and the hall slowly empties. A few random groups are scattered around, but our group stays seated at the table.
“Tonight was incredible; thank you guys so much.”
“Anything for you Presley.” Trey raises his scotch, and she gives a nod.
“You deserve it boss. I would never have guessed the quiet girl in high school would own an empire, let alone I’d be working for her.”
“What you’ve created is amazing, my dear. Thank you for the opportunity to be a part of it.” Presley blushes under Coach’s compliment.
“After hearing all those stories, I’m second guessing whose autograph I really want.” The table chuckles. “Robert, time to get her home. Rest and I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
Chapter Thirteen
– 28 Weeks Pregnant –
Baseball Season’s Opening Day
As fate would have it, the Ranger’s season started in Chicago against the White Sox.
This is the first time Presley hasn’t been at one of my games, and it’s slightly messing with my focus. I know she’s watching at home though, so I make sure to send her our signal throughout the game. The first couple of innings are a rough start for me, but I find my groove in the third and pitching becomes like breathing.
Every pitch I throw out I picture her behind the plate, willing to strip if I give away a hit.
Even though it’s all in my head, I’m the only one that gets to see her that way. The game ends 10-9 in the White Sox favor.
Today’s game was an afternoon game, so I quickly shower and meet Liz to look at the homes Presley and I have narrowed it down to. I told her that I would look at them and make a decision on the right one for us.
The first house I’m taken to is just outside the city but could easily be an hour to an hour and a half drive to the field depending on traffic. It’s a white brick, modern farmhouse style house. Small front porch with stairs leading up to a black front door. There is a certain charm about the house and the curb appeal is immaculate. The back yard is spacious, but there is a train track not far from the house and I heard the whistle blare three times in the hour that I was there.
It’s definitely not what we have grown accustom to back in Texas. It’s also quite a bit smaller than our house now, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing since we’re putting the idea of more children on hold for now. I will definitely have to consider either selling my truck or leaving it down in Texas, the roads are just too narrow and congested for it up here.
The second place Liz shows me is a traditional brownstone in a row of houses. It’s a corner house, so we have a small side yard, but it’s not the rolling acreage we have now. This move is definitely going to be a change for us, one that I know Presley will make the best of, but part of me feels guilty for asking her to leave our home. I could walk away from playing right now and we could be fine until we’re old and grey, but I still love the game and the rush I get from being on the field.
The second house is at least within walking distance to a park and other luxuries are close by and it’s only a fifteen-minute drive to the stad
ium, even with traffic. I tell Liz to make an offer on the brownstone and get floor plans sent to Presley so she can begin designing.
It’s nearly ten by the time I get back to the hotel and call Pres. She’s bubbly just as usual and I can’t help but smile as her words dance across the line.
“I saw the game today.”
“Yea. It took me a minute. I guess not having you there messed with me more than I thought it would have.”
“I noticed. What changed?”
“Picturing you stripping in front of thousands of people.”
Her infectious giggle causes my heart to speed. “Robert!” and the way she said my name, I’ll never tire of hearing it roll off her tongue in that surprised yet seductive tone.
“What? It helped.”
“Well, I’m glad to know my tactics still work on you.”
Of course they work on me. They were designed for me. “I looked at those two houses tonight as well.”
“Yea? And?” I can tell she’s waiting on bated breath.
“And did I make the right decision?”
“What do you mean?” Her tender tone is eager to listen.
“By agreeing to seven years out here? It’s just so different. It’s not Texas.”
“No place will ever be Texas. But we’ll make the best of it.”
Always the optimist. The line is silent for a moment, static filters through the line as I’m sure she shifted in bed to make herself more comfortable.
“Do you still like playing?” she questions quietly. I know what she’s doing.
“I love it, Pres.”
“Then you made the right decision.”
“There’s no yard. And the truck will have to stay down there, but it’s close to everything.”
“So you went with the brownstone?”
“Yea. The other one was just too close to the train tracks. Liz should be sending you floor plans soon.”
“I trust you, Robert.”
That’s all she has to say to settle the uneasiness inside of me. “Well, they’ll be around soon for lights out. I love you, Pres.”
Tag Fight For Me Page 11
