Page 47 of Bad Run

Just knock.

“You’ve got this, Gwen,” Sylvie whispers from her desk. Her dark eyes sparkle with motherly affection. She has been the Evaders’ front office manager since before I was born. She’s like a second grandmother to me.

Sylvie was my grandfather’s assistant until he passed away. My father, Ted Montgomery Jr., rightly promoted her, and she has served as his second-in-command ever since. There’s not a thing she misses or doesn’t know around here. Sylvie basically runs this place.

“Thanks, Sylvie. I appreciate the support.”

“Of course, my sweet girl. Now go on and knock. Show him who’s the boss.” Sylvie shoots me a wink as she reaches for the ringing phone. Her black and silver bob sways as she cheerfully greets the caller, taking me back in time to the summer days when I would visit the office and answer phones with her while my dad and grandfather did their “baseball” business.

Taking Sylvie’s advice, I knock on my father’s door.

“Come in,” he hollers from the other side.

I pull open the door to find my father standing behind his desk, staring out the large picture window that overlooks all of Los Angeles—from the Evaders’ field below, downtown LA, and the San Gabriel Mountains in the distance. The view from the hill where the Evaders Stadium stands is breathtaking.

The golf-ball–sized lump in my throat prevents me from taking a full breath.

I close the door to his office as my dad turns to face me and grins. “Hello, my Gwenny girl. Get over here and give your old man a hug.”

“Hey, Daddy,” I reply.

Dad holds out his arms for me, and I walk into his warm embrace. His familiar cedar and sage cologne reminds me of my childhood.

I love my father dearly. He’s a great dad. The best. He spoiled us all with his attention, came to whatever game or extracurricular activity we had, tucked us in, and read bedtime stories to us whenever he had a chance.

When we break apart, Dad guides me to the chair in front of his desk and, as he takes a seat, asks, “What brings you to my office today, kiddo?”

Ignoring the kiddo remark, I square my shoulders and sit tall. “I wanted to speak to you about Maryse’s maternity leave.”

“What about it, sweetheart?”

“When Maryse leaves, I want to take over as CMO.”

“Gwen.”

He attempts to interrupt me, but I push through. I need to say what I came to say before I chicken out.

“Please just listen. For the last five months, I have been working very closely with Maryse. I know I can do the job with my eyes closed. I’ve been shadowing her every day. I know everything the team and the marketing department have scheduled for the rest of the season. I’ve already had a hands-on role in planning the philanthropic events for the team. That idea about changing our team tagline for the season was my idea …”

Dad raises his voice and cuts me off. “Gwen, stop. You can’t take over.”

“But you always said I would be a part of the Evaders. That I would have a place here in the organization. Were you lying?”

He sighs, and for the first time in my life it seems as if he’s disappointed in something other than me. “I’ve never lied to you. But there are rules.”

“What rules?”

“Rules your grandfather put in place before he passed.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is a stipulation that doesn’t allow a …” As if he doesn’t want to say the words aloud, he clears his throat before continuing. “The stipulation is for female heirs of the Montgomery family. Unmarried Montgomery women cannot hold executive positions in the company.”

My father might as well have stabbed me in the heart with his letter opener. Unmarried women can’t hold executive positions? That’s the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard.

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I am not kidding.” He pulls open the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out a stack of papers and places them in front of me. “This is a copy of your grandfather’s last will and testament. Everything you need to know is in here.”