The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1)

The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1) Page 25

I laughed and all eyes turned to me. “What? It’s not natural to have huge cameras following your every move and filming your private expressions. I’m a lot more comfortable behind the lens than I am in front of it.”

“I know it’s a little weird. Just do your best to pretend that the cameras aren’t here,” the director told me.

We sat around the kitchen table making small talk while the cameras filmed mere feet from us. Waiting for a phone call to come was nerve-wracking enough, but being filmed while you were waiting was a completely different experience entirely.

I jumped when the phone clanged to life, the sound startling me and waking up my dormant emotions. Fear suddenly ripped through my body, followed quickly by nerves, and then elation. My stomach twisted as Jack walked toward the old yellow rotary phone.

“Hello?” His eyes scanned each of our faces, but never the camera. “Speaking.” A huge grin spread across his face making the dimples I loved even deeper. “Thank you so much. Yes, sir. I’ll be in touch. Thank you.”

He slammed down the phone before turning toward us. “Arizona!” he shouted and everyone cheered, including me. I wasn’t sure why we were cheering, but I screamed and clapped along. “I’m a Diamondback!”

“Bonus amount?” Marc asked, leaning his elbows against the table.

“Hold on,” Jack said before walking over to his Gran and kissing her cheek. Then he squeezed Gramps and Dean before leaning down to kiss my mouth and I instantly forgot we were surrounded by cameras and strangers.

“Congratulations, babe. I’m so happy for you.” I looked into his soft brown eyes and noticed the peace there.

“Thank you,” he whispered into my ear before pressing his lips against my neck.

“Carter, come on. Do we have to call these guys back and negotiate or what?” Ryan interjected in a vain attempt to get Jack’s attention.

“They said five,” Jack answered with a smile, refusing to look away from my face.

“Yeah? Did they say five?” Ryan’s eyes lifted.

“That’s what they said.”

“Well, alright! How do you feel? Should we push?” Marc asked as he scribbled notes furiously onto his pad.

He turned. “I think five is more than fair. I’m happy with it,” Jack acknowledged.

“I know it sounds like a lot of money right now, Jack, but you’ll lose half in taxes, we take our cut, and you won’t be making much for the next few years in the minor leagues. We could probably get them to budge some,” Marc suggested, still writing.

“I’m happy with it. I just want to play ball.” Jack’s tone was firm.

“Alright then. We’ll accept the deal as is. Congrats!”

Jack pulled his chair next to me and tossed his arm low across my back. “Five million isn’t a bad signing bonus, right? Am I being naïve?”

I almost choked. “That’s what it is? Five million dollars?” I asked.

“What did you think?” He laughed, his eyebrows pulling in.

“I don’t know, but I didn’t think that. Holy shit, Jack, that’s incredible.” I was so stunned I had to remember to close my mouth since my jaw kept dropping open.

“I should sign, right?”

“Absolutely. I mean, have your lawyer look over the contracts, but of course you should sign! Why wouldn’t you?” I grabbed his face and pulled him to me before planting a loud kiss on his lips. “You’re awesome. My baby’s a Diamondback!”

The reporter tossed Jack a Diamondback jersey and hat and asked him to put them on while they interviewed him for a piece to air later that day. I watched as he tossed the jersey over his black shirt, buttoning the top button before placing the cap firmly on his head and tucking the stray hair underneath.

“How do I look?” he asked, modeling the crimson red jersey with D*Backs written on it.

“Like a ball player,” I responded with a smile.

“Like a million bucks.” Gramps punched the air.

Dean grinned. “More like five.”

“Can I get my camera? Are we allowed to take pictures?” I asked, longing to use my new camera for this special moment.

The producer turned to me. “As soon as we stop rolling. Otherwise the shutter sound of your camera will filter into the sound bytes.”

“Okay,” I responded with a huge smile, turning my camera on and exploring its new features so I’d be ready when it was time.

When the television crew cleared out, I grabbed Jack and his family and posed them in the backyard, under a giant oak tree. I took a few group family shots and then individual ones.

“Let me take one of you and Jack, dear. Do you trust me to use your camera?” Gramps asked with a laugh.

“Of course! Be careful, it’s a lot heavier than it looks,” I noted, handing him my weighty equipment.

“Oh, this is heavy.” He carefully placed the camera strap around his neck.

“Okay, now you have to look through it like a regular, old-fashioned camera.” I paused, realizing that Gramps had probably never used anything but an old-fashioned camera.

I placed his index finger on top of a round, smooth knob. “Then you press this button halfway down so that Jack and I come into focus. Once we’re focused, you press it all the way down and you’ll hear it click. And that’s it!”

“I can do that.” Gramps gave me a confident nod and I scurried over to Jack’s side.

I glanced sideways, taking in his new hat and jersey before wrapping my arm around his middle. He pulled me tight. “This is exciting, right?”

“Understatement of the year.” I shivered with excitement and grinned up at him.

We stood still for what felt like an eternity while Gramps maneuvered us and played with the camera. “Oh, Gramps, can we get one more with Dean?” I looked at Dean and waved him over. “I don’t have any pictures of the three of us. I really want one. Or twelve,” I said with a chuckle.

“This is fun! I see why you like doing this, Cassie. You can’t screw up because you can’t run out of film.”

“It’s pretty cool, huh?” I asked, removing the camera from around his neck.

“Pretty cool indeed,” he answered with a wink.

FOURTEEN

Jack left for Single-A ball a few days following the draft. Dean drove up north with him in his deathmobile, and then spent a few days there with him. It had been twenty-seven days since I last saw him, not that I was counting or anything.

He told me before he left that the minor leagues consisted of Single-A, Double-A, Triple-A, and then The Bigs, which was another word for the Big Leagues, the Majors, The Show. Although signed by the Diamondbacks, Jack would have to work his way up through a succession of teams that funneled players to the Diamondbacks, starting with Single-A.

The Diamondbacks’ Single-A team was in a small town in Northern California and even though Jack didn’t have to leave the state, he still had to leave where we lived in Southern California. The truth was that when it came to matters of the heart, distance was distance, no matter the number of miles. I was confused at first why he wasn’t going to Arizona, but after Jack explained to me how it all worked, it made sense that he would be going to Northern California instead.

It was hard having him gone. I’d become so used to Jack’s physical presence that his absence was unavoidably felt and missed on a daily basis. I was thankful for e-mail, Facebook, and our cell phones, but nothing replaced his actually being here. It was weird too, being the one left behind. Jack moved, his life now filled with new experiences, friends, teammates, and adventures. But I was still here, doing the same things I did before he left, seeing the same people, living pretty much the same life.

Yeah. It was definitely weird being the one left to live in the memories of what used to be. Fortunately for me, I kept myself busy with my new summer internship. I’d finally convinced my parents to let me bring my car to school for the summer, since I needed to drive to and from work five days a week. They agreed, but only with the understanding that once the fall semester started, my car had to return to its dust-collecting spot in the driveway.

Seriously? Who were these people claiming to be my parents? They felt like such strangers with whom I had absolutely nothing in common, least of all common sense.

My personal ringtone for Jack blared as I sat outside with my co-worker, Lesslie, watching the surfers during our lunch break. I fumbled through my purse looking for my phone, a smile plastered across my face. “Babe!” I shouted as soon as I answered.

“Kitten,” his voice purred in response. “I miss you so much. How’s the internship?”

“It’s so freaking cool. I love it. I’m learning so much.” Seagulls cawed in the background as I pressed the phone closer to my ear so I could hear Jack better.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get up here.” Jack’s voice was upbeat, his excitement confusing me.

“When I get…what?”

“I wanna fly you up for the weekend.”

“Really?” I shot Lesslie a glance.

“Yes, really. I’m pitching on Saturday night and I want you to meet the guys. And I fucking miss you like crazy.”

“I miss you too.”

“Check with your boss to see if you can take Friday off. E-mail me and let me know what he says, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll ask as soon as I get back from lunch,” I responded, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“Maybe you oughta remind him that your boyfriend has a bit of a temper, so he probably shouldn’t tell you no,” he teased with a laugh.

“Oh yeah, I’ll definitely make sure to threaten him. That stuff usually works on normal, sane people.” I rolled my eyes, safe in the knowledge that he couldn’t see me.

He laughed and I pictured his face in my mind. “Seriously though, if he says no, I’ll fly you out after work on Friday night or first thing Saturday morning, okay?”

“Okay! Oh my gosh, I’m so excited! Thanks, babe.”

“Me too. Talk later, love you.” I could hear Jack’s smile in his voice as he said good-bye. I smiled back and dropped my hand holding the phone, before tilting my head toward Lesslie.

“Was that your superstar boyfriend?” she asked with a grin, her straight brown hair blowing in the breeze.

“Uh-huh,” I responded, my mind a million miles away as I thought about what to pack for the weekend.

“So what are you asking about after lunch?” She elbowed my arm.

“If I can take Friday off or not. He wants to fly me up there for the weekend.”

“Oh, Tom’s not going to care. Offer to work a half day, and he’ll tell you to take the whole thing off.”

“Really?”

“Really. Don’t even stress about it,” she said and I exhaled with relief. “That’s sweet of your boyfriend to fly you up. Most guys probably wouldn’t want their girlfriends around, let alone pay to bring them there.”

I stiffened. “Why would you say that?”