“She’s moved on to other parts of the presentation, but I’m happy to provide you some feedback in the dressing room.”
I begrudgingly went along with it. For at least today, it seemed I’d have to resign myself to serendipity to make it happen. And I don’t think I’ve ever had to rely on luck for a lady.
“So, Mr. Ferrari, we would love to have you speak at more presentations if interested,” Rachel said as she led us back. “You have a dynamic presence on stage, and our firm hosts events at multiple locations…”
Rachel continued talking, sounding like a true marketer, but at this point, I had already put future events out of mind. I instead thought about batting practice, the meeting with my physical therapist, Izzy—
Wait, one of those doesn’t belong.
I sighed.
“Everything OK, Mr. Ferrari?”
“Huh? Oh, yes, sorry,” I said, embarrassed that I’d gotten so in my head that I had completely forgotten that Rachel was by my side.
At this point, I was reminded of something my high school coach had said—that if, after all of the work I had done, I was still feeling distracted, it was probably a sign that the distraction was not something to tune out but something to pay attention to. For as much of a stats-driven, analytics-based game as baseball had become, my high school coaches still liked to preach to us the importance of listening to our guts, telling us we were far smarter than any database could be.
The notion was a little absurd, and for the most part, I just wanted to play baseball, but I decided I needed to do some digging.
I decided that today could not be the last day Izzy Saunders and I crossed paths. I needed to see what would happen when our paths actually collided instead of barely grazing each other.
And, in true baseball fashion, I decided I was going to swing for the fences on this one.
Chapter 4: Izzy
I gave myself five seconds to stand behind Rachel and watch Nick wrap up his speech.
Boy, was he handsome. His presence commanded attention. All eyes were on him.
I could see why everyone had said he was one of the most marketable stars in the Bay Area sports scene. It wasn’t just that he had a handsome, easy-going smile or that he succeeded on the field; it was that he actually wanted to leverage those things to help other people. So many athletes gifted with good looks either hated the attention or had a certain air of false appearance to them, but everything about Nick was genuine.
And then he locked eyes with me as the speech ended.
I felt trapped.
But I wanted to feel trapped. I wanted to remain under this man’s spell. I wanted to…I wanted to keep looking.
Nick Ferrari, star outfielder for the San Francisco Giants, son of Bill Ferrari, owner of Ferrari Wines, a man who appeared in more local commercials than just about anyone, was looking at me.
And you’ve still got an entire event to run.
The instant that thought came to mind, I yanked myself away. The sobriety that came from removing myself from his gaze and throwing myself back into work mode sobered up my thoughts and made me realize how ridiculous I’d acted. Nick was handsome, hot, and hella rich; he was also completely unattainable. I was a single mom with a psychotic ex who doubled as an alcoholic. You think someone like a professional athlete would want anything to do with me?
“Give him the rundown when you can,” I told Rachel. “Let him know he spoke well. Come find me when you’re done. We’ve got to make sure the tables are set up for all the companies coming here.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks!” I yelled, knowing full well one word of thanks wasn’t going to make up for the fact that I was driving Rachel and the rest of my staff into the ground on days like this.
I walked alone through the hallways to the student union, which might as well have been called the employer union for the next three days. In that time, perhaps fifty different corporations, ranging from Google to Goldman Sachs to a startup named Gozer that I had never heard of, had set up tables, all in an attempt to recruit, interview, and invite the top talent to their respective offices. My job usually entailed me working on things at a higher level than this, but my OCD would never let me allow a detail to go unnoticed; I had even suggested to Rachel that she let me test Nick’s mic before he went on, but she had thankfully worked with me long enough to know when to push back.
As soon as I knew all the tables were set, I decided to head outside for a moment to catch my breath. I breathed in through my nose, slowly.
I exhaled out the mouth, equally slowly.
I repeated five times.
I felt a little bit better. But it still felt like there was some underlying stress, something nagging at me that wouldn’t go away. Had I forgotten to do something for this event? That was impossible; I’d triple-checked everything the night before to make sure everything was running properly, and even that was more work than I usually did. Maybe Jordan had sent me some work I needed to do? I checked my email. Nope.
What…
Malcolm.
I sighed. I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to give him any more strength than he already had over me. But it was only a matter of time before he found me; the degree to which he would go to find me and control me would have been astonishing if it weren’t so damn frightening.
And when that time came, I’d have to fight. And unfortunately,
