In fact, I have always been the one out of the two of us who could keep a secret better and sneak around more easily. My cousin is way too honest and sometimes naive when it comes to trusting people, usually two great things in a personality, but they could be her downfall. Like last year, when her father, and my uncle, were arrested on multiple blackmail, bribery, and extortion charges.
Uncle Jimmy was the general manager to my father, his own brother, the owner of the Packton Pistons. They’d grown up watching their father, grandfather, and uncles manage the team, and then it had been their generation’s time. My dad had taken on the role of owner, while Colleen’s father was the general manager. Except one of them got too greedy. Jimmy ended up bribing agents, making illegal deals for contracts to bring players here that otherwise wouldn’t have been on our team, and was just generally an evil bastard. He exchanged dirty money, blackmailed people, and went against everything the Pistons and the league in general stand for.
Currently, he’s still serving his jail sentence, and Colleen is finally getting her footing and confidence back again. It has taken a lot of struggle, a lot of growing, but I am so damn proud of how my best friend has come out as a stronger woman and manager on the other side.
Also, my uncle’s scandal hasn’t taken away from what our family has built, this year all but proved that. It also hasn’t tarnished the Callahan name, at least not in the community of Packton. Our hometown, the place our family decided to set up shop, is a safe haven for my blood relatives and me. Although it might not be a fancy city or some exotic locale, I love it here. I love that I get to experience all four seasons, that I get to play ball in my small town backyard.
Growing up, it was my dream to play the sport I love for my family’s team. It was the chance of a lifetime, one I’d worked tirelessly to achieve. Now that I am almost halfway through the career I’ve always wanted, I can honestly say that most days, I am damn happy to be here. Most days, I am as chipper and charmed as Michael Scott after a meeting with Jan Levinson.
But the World Series is over now. We are champs, I’ve done my job. And all I want is to find out where Hannah is. It feels a little stalkerish, to be honest, that I have to track her down. That Colleen is avoiding my calls and texts, having locked herself away with a now-retired Hayes to have their honeymoon phase. He shocked the hell out of me when he announced it just after the championships, but I’m pleasantly surprised that he had enough balls to give up the sport we mutually love for my cousin. It shows just how much he loves her, and I couldn’t ask for a better man to be the one she chose.
It seems to go against respecting Hannah’s privacy and giving her space that I’m rooting around in Colleen’s files for any clue of where she might be, but I’m at the end of my rope here. I just want to know she’s okay.
“What are you doing in here?” my father’s voice filters past Colleen’s door, and I stop with my fingers stuffed deep into a filing cabinet, caught red-handed.
“I … uh … was just trying to look for the name of an advertiser. My agent wanted to set up some shoe deal, and I wasn’t sure …”
It’s the lamest excuse ever, one that makes absolutely no sense, and I can see that my shrewd old man isn’t buying one word of it.
“That’s utter bullshit. What are you doing?” Dad’s eyebrows shoot up suspiciously.
The man is like a bloodhound when it comes to lies; my entire life, he’s always been able to sniff them out. Daniel Callahan is the almighty, the patriarch of our clan and the owner of the team. There are not many people who say no to him, and even less who outright defy him. I’ve always managed to stay on his good side, but I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close. It’s difficult to be affectionate or loving to a man who doesn’t seem to grasp the meaning of either word.
Granted, my father was never the evil bastard type, like my Uncle Jimmy. He never belittled my brother and me or discouraged us from going after our dreams. He showed up for our mother, his wife, and tried his best to play the family man. But my father is just a distant person, a man without much capacity for warmth. He functions best in the office, a facet of his personality that has benefitted the organization beautifully during his reign. So while he’s not father of the year, he also isn’t malicious or calculated.
“Nothing.” I shrug, still not wanting to divulge anything.
“Don’t get involved any further in this.” There’s a note of finality in his voice.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Trying to play dumb with my father has almost never worked, but I’m a grown man. I don’t need to explain my motives to him.
He walks farther into Colleen’s office, a space we’re now both invading.
“Oh, Walker, come off it. I know you went with Hannah Giraldi in that ambulance, that you sat by her bedside. Do you forget I have eyes and ears everywhere? I want you far away from this mess. It’s bad enough Shane has a contract with the team, that we’ll lose a chunk of his promised money, and that the Piston name is being dragged through the mud once again with this trial. I don’t need my son, and the face of this ball club, being swept up in this media circus, too. There are plenty of women out there, Walker. Ask your brother, I’ve had to pay dozens of his fuck buddies to keep from going public with graphic pictures or ridiculous stories. Pick one of them.”
Fury throttles down my spine. Not only does my father not know what he’s talking about, but comparing me to Sinclair is low. My younger brother has never worked for anything in his life; he’s lived off the trust fund and unlimited bailouts my parents provide. Meanwhile, I’ve done everything they’ve ever asked, and apparently going after something that would truly make me happy is too much to ask.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grit out through my teeth.
“I know she’s a married woman who still hasn’t filed for divorce from her abusive husband. I know that in a lot of cases like this, the wife will end up taking him back.”
His words sting like a motherfucker, but they’re not untrue. It’s been almost a month, and if he’s saying Hannah hasn’t filed for divorce, then it must be true. The thought of her going back to Shane makes me want to be physically ill, so much so that I can’t even open up my mouth to argue with my father.
I walk to the wall of windows that comprises the back of Colleen’s office. My domain lays before me, and I feel kind of like Simba. The setting sun touches points of the ballpark, my home for all intents and purposes, and I know that someday, this kingdom will be mine.
Father approaches, and his voice is closer as we look out over the crimson red seats, the bright green grass, murky orange sand of the diamond, and glinting white bases. I’ve never loved any place more than this stadium, and while it’s my sanctuary, it’s also my prison.
“You are going to own all of this someday. When your career is up, you’ll start training under me. I won’t be able to do this job forever, Walker. This is your future, your destiny. You don’t need scandals and court battles on your shoulders when you already have enough to handle.”
The thing is, I don’t want to own the team. Sure, I’ll take some cushy office or consulting job within the organization when my time is up. Maybe I’ll coach, or start a clinic for youth baseball through our nonprofit organization. But being the owner of the Pistons has never been my dream; just the one Dad has for me.