Page 141 of Bad Run

It’s a struggle to speak as my father stares at me with so much disappointment in his green eyes. I return the look. I’m the one who should be disappointed.

“I know you’re angry.”

“Angry?” he mocks, throwing his hands in the air, gesticulating with every word he shoots at me. “Try embarrassed. You embarrassed me and the organization. What were you thinking?”

“It was never my intention for you to find out this way. I was going to tell you.”

“Does your mother know?”

“No.” I shake my head.

His shoulders sag in relief. I know finding out about the will made Mom angry, and she’d let my father know. Mom being angry at him can’t be easy. She’s always looked at him as if he walks on water. And he’s always looked at her as though she’s his entire world. But secrets shake the bedrock, even in a strong marriage.

“Is this because of that damn will? Because you want to be head of marketing?” he asks, hitting the bullseye.

“It was—” I start.

“Divorce him, and I’ll change the will. You can be head of marketing,” he interrupts.

I shake my head. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“Don’t need to. Get a divorce, and I’ll give you what you want. You can’t be married to some baseball player. You know what these guys are like. All they do is sleep around. He’s no different. He’ll end up hurting you or worse.”

“Lance wouldn’t. He’s not like that.”

“Gwenny, you’re making a mistake. He—”

It’s my turn to interject. “Dad, stop. I need you to hear me.” His mouth bobs open, and I put my hand up. “Nuh-uh. Listen. When I married Lance, yes, it was because I wanted the job. At least, that’s what I told myself. But the truth is, I married him because I was in love with him.”

“How can you be in love with someone you don’t even know? You’ve only been working for the team for a few months.”

“I met Lance at the World Series party, and we’ve been together ever since.” The partial lie slips off my tongue with ease.

In all honesty, I fell for Lance the moment his blue eyes collided with mine. For the first time, it felt as though someone else truly saw me, down to my soul, and understood.

We may have hit a bit of a bad run at the beginning of our relationship. Both of us let our anger and hurt, and a whole lot of fear, keep us apart.

Marrying Lance changed all that. It took me a while to see it, but now I do.

Lance is my person, and I will not let my father question his character.

“You cannot be married to a player on the team, and that’s final.” His haughty tone strikes a nerve. I know my father to be a stubborn man, but even for him, this is ridiculous. He’s already made up his mind. No amount of talking or fighting will get him to change his mind.

“Then I quit.”

My father’s job hits the floor. “You what?”

“I. Quit,” I repeat to a flabbergasted Ted Montgomery.

That’s a first.

Any other time I’d revel in my victory, but right now all I want to do is get as far away from him.

“You can’t,” he splutters as I reach for the door.

“I can, and I will. You do not respect me. Nor do you appreciate all my hard work. My whole life, I have done everything I can to make you proud. To live up to your expectations. But I don’t think that’s possible. At least not for a daughter. I love The Evaders. Working here has been my dream since I was a little girl with pigtails, answering phones with Sylvie and sitting in your chair, but in case you missed it, that little girl”—I point to myself—“is all grown up. She has new dreams, and they start and end with that baseball player. If you can’t accept that, then I’m done. I’ll see you around, Dad.”

Without another word, I walk out of Anson’s office.