“And she lives in New Orleans?”
“About thirty minutes outside of the city, yes. She runs the inn that I’ve been staying at.”
“An innkeeper.” He raises a shaggy grey brow. “Hard worker.”
He’s always right.
“Fucking hard worker,” I agree with a nod. “She’s beautiful. Smart. So much smarter than me.” I smile and shake my head, rubbing the back of my neck anxiously.
Why am I anxious?
“She has a little boy. He’s seven, and probably the biggest Cubs fan there is.”
“I bet he’s enjoying having you around,” Coach says with a smile.
“I enjoy having him around too. He’s as smart as his mom, and the things he says are funny.”
“You’re in love with them.”
I sigh and nod and then I just stare at this man that I trust as much as I trust anyone in my life.
“I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.”
He laughs. “Keep loving them.”
“Is it that simple?” I ask and pace a few feet away, then back again. “How can I make it work? I have a demanding career that keeps me on the road more than half of the year. I’m based out of Chicago, for fuck sake. She has a thriving family business in New Orleans.”
“Last time I checked, you make a shit-ton of money.”
I smirk. “Sam’s in school.”
“The majority of our season is during the summer,” he replies. “Look, a lot of players manage to have happy families and a baseball career. It can be a juggling act during the season, but it’s doable. Bring them with you. You can afford it. Live in New Orleans in the off season.”
He makes a lot of sense. Maybe I can talk Gabby into hiring some help and she and Sam can join me during most of the season.
Because the thought of living without them leaves an ache in me that the thought of losing baseball never did.
“You’ve never been one to shy away from hard work, Rhys.”
I scowl. “Fuck no. You know hard work doesn’t scare me.”
“Good because if you thought baseball was hard, just wait until you start working on a relationship. Is she worth it?”
A slow smile spreads over my face as I think of Gabby, with her long dark hair and hazel eyes. How she makes me laugh, and simply makes me feel damn good.
“Yeah, she’s worth it.”
“I look forward to meeting her and her son.” Coach grins and claps me on my uninjured shoulder. “Maybe I’ll bring the missus down there after the season is over to check out her inn. My wife is insanely patient during the season. She deserves a trip.”
“You should. It’s great.”
“You know, if you ever have questions about bringing a family along for this ride, or if Gabby ever needs anything, you can call my wife, or any of the other married players. We stick together, and no one wants you to fail.”
“Thank you.” I nod, feeling even more comfortable, relieved, and convinced that this is going to work. “I may take you up on it.”
“Wouldn’t offer if I didn’t expect you to.” He claps my shoulder again and then backs away toward his own car. “Safe travels back, son.”
I wave and settle in the car, but before I drive toward the hotel, I check my phone again.
Nothing.
It’s late evening now. I spent all day in tests and meetings, consultations and hours and hours with my publicist, discussing all of the endorsement opportunities that she has lined up for me.
I’ll be damned if I’ll plug athletes’ foot cream. Fuck that.
I also spent part of the day in meetings with lawyers going over contracts, financial advisors.
The whole gamut.
I check my phone and frown when there is no response from Gabby. I try to call her again, but it goes to voice mail.
Where the fuck is she? What if something happened to her?
I chew on my lip and tap my fingers on the steering wheel. I’m supposed to head back down there tomorrow morning, but I can’t reach Gabby.
Fuck it.
I dial Melanie’s number.
“Did we forget something?” she asks with a smile in her voice.
“I want to go back to New Orleans tonight instead of tomorrow.”
There’s a pause. “I can try to switch your flight, but at this hour, there probably isn’t anything until morning anyway.”
“Charter a flight.”
Another pause. “Are you okay, Rhys?”
“I’m fine. I need to get to New Orleans tonight. I can afford the damn plane, Mel.”
“Okay. Consider it done. I’ll call you when I have the details.”
“Thanks.”
I click off and head for the hotel to get my bag and check out. I’m sure she’s fine. I’m sure I’m overreacting, but damn it, I need to see her.
I need her.
***
It’s late when I arrive at the inn. Or, early I guess, since it’s about four o’clock in the morning. The inn is dark, aside from the foyer light that Gabby always leaves on, and I’m thankful that I still have my room key so I can get inside without having to wake her.
It’s quiet, and yet, it already feels more like home than the house in Denver that Kate and I shared ever did.
I walk back to Gabby and Sam’s private quarters. It’s simple back here, just two bedrooms, a bathroom and a little sitting area with a TV and comfortable couch for Sam to play and watch his shows.