“Sorry, what day is that again? I might have made other plans,” I state, just to piss her off some more.
“It is on Thursday. I don’t care what other plans you might think you’ve made; cancel them. This isn’t negotiable,” she grits between clenched teeth.
I hold up my hands, palms out, as if I’m going to hold her back from attacking me. “Damn, I was joking,” I tell her. “I don’t have any plans that day, and I’ll make sure to be here.” I pause long enough to take a drink of my water. “I’ll even show up early if that will make you feel better,” I offer.
“You’re such an ass,” she says, giving me a smile that I know anyone else would think was sweet or friendly, but I can tell standing just inches from her that it is anything but sweet or nice, and that has me thinking once again what her lips would look like wrapped around my cock. Fuck, I can’t be thinking about that while on the field.
“I aim to please,” I toss out as I step away and head down the few steps into the dugout and then inside.
I head straight for the locker room, where I find most of my teammates milling around in a mixture of half-dressed states. I pull the tank I had on from my body, wiping at my torso with the fabric to wipe away some of the sweat that is still on my skin. Before getting my uniform on, I hit up the bathroom, then head back to my locker to get dressed.
Many athletes have a specific system. They might always put on their left sock before the right, or always eat a particular meal before every home game or run a specific number of lines across a field. I’ve done all of those things myself at one point or another, and today is no different. I started with my warmup; now it is time to get my uniform on in a particular order. Clean compression shorts followed by a compression tank to help with the sweat. My uniform pants come next, followed by my socks, then my top, and finally my cleats. Always done in that order. I snag my hat before leaving my locker, sliding it on my head as I head out of the locker room and into the dugout.
Four
Carmen
I rush around the stadium, making sure everything is where it is needed. The guys have started to arrive, which I’m thankful for. I’ve stressed myself out over the fact that some of them might skip today and make things not go to plan. The day is young, so I’m not counting out something might still go against my well-thought-out plan, but I’m also hoping that everything goes smoothly.
“Carmen, did you want me to take these bags down to the dugout?” my assistant Carly asks.
“Yes, please. I think Derek and Justin are here already, so if you need some muscle, I’m sure they’d be willing to help you,” I tell her, mentioning one of our star pitchers and catchers for the team. They also happen to be best friends, and it won’t surprise me if they end up being brothers-in-law, since Justin is dating Derek’s sister, and I think things are pretty serious between the two of them.
“I’ll see who I can round up,” Carly calls before she grabs a box of the goodie bags we’ve put together for all the kids to take home at the end of the day filled with team swag, and heads for the tunnel that will lead her out to the dugout.
I head up to the concourse to check in with catering to ensure they’ve got everything in place for lunch today. I’m sure I have nothing to worry about; it isn’t like they aren’t used to a packed stadium with upwards of forty-plus thousand people here each and every game.
All is good with catering, so I head back down to wait for everyone to arrive. We’d asked the players to get here an hour before fans will be let in, mainly so I can go over with them what their duties will be and a quick overview of the day’s events. They were already given most of this information, but I’ve learned that some guys don’t retain these types of instructions for long. So, I just planned to go over everything beforehand; that way, no one is surprised about anything happening over the next few hours.
“Janet, is everything set up on the field how you wanted?” I ask the coordinator from the event company we hired to help us pull today's event off. Like me, she’s been running around all morning, making sure things are in place.
“It is all perfect; we just need some kids now to fill it up,” she says, her excitement causing her to bounce on the balls of her feet.
“Perfect! I can’t thank you enough for all of your help with this. I think it will be a fantastic event for us to continue for years to come.”
“I think you’re right. The kids are going to love it, and I believe the guys will have more fun than they imagine.”
“Carmen,” Ian Rogers, the team manager, calls my name from the doorway of his office. I turn on my heel and head his way.
“Yes, Ian?” I ask in greeting when I reach his office.
“Did you want to give your speech to the guys now?” he asks. “We’re only missing a couple of them, but I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
“Of course,” I tell him, and he leads me down the hall and into the locker room where they’ve all congregated.
This isn’t my first time in the locker room; I’m actually in here quite often. As the team's lead PR person, I deal with the media daily. Many of them have access to this very room, but only when I give the green light that they can enter. We also have a time
