Page 159 of Hiding in the Outfield

“He’s the one, Gen.”

She gasps. “Baby!”

I worry my lip, and dammit, my eyes start to burn. “Yeah. Um. So, small problem is he now lives across the country from me.”

“Why did he move? Does he feel the same way as you?”

“Yeah, but it’s complicated. You can’t tell anyone, Gen. You promise?”

“I promise…” It’s obvious by her tone that she has no idea where I’m going with this.

“Jackson…Jackson is Jackson Olander. He’s a baseball player who just got⁠—”

“I know who the fuck he is!”

My eyes fly wide.

“Shit.” Her words muffle. “Sorry. So sorry.” Her voice comes in clear again. “I think everyone in the office hates me now.”

“That wouldn’t be new.”

“Um. Rude.”

I chuckle.

“I’ll go back to being pissed over that later. But did you really just say you are dating who you said you are dating? Because if what you said is what you said, then. You. Said.”

“I don’t even know how to answer that because I have no idea what you just said. But I’m dating Jackson Olander. And I’m madly in love with him. And he’s madly in love with me back. Like he told his team in love with me. Like we met with PR on Sunday to come up with a plan for when word gets out in love with me.”

She gasps. “Gasp, gasp, gasp!”

I breathe out a laugh. “Yeah. It’s surreal. So, now I just have to figure out what the fuck to do. During the season, he has almost zero time off. The only reason we were able to even make this work was because he moved in with me when he played for the Jetties’ Triple-A team. Even then, it was odd hours and me working from home to snag extra minutes. Now…we’re a full day of travel apart.”

“Move here.”

A startled laugh bursts from me. “Um. What?”

“Ask Rosanna if you can transfer to San Fran. You’d still have to split your time between San Fran and Providence, but at least the majority of the time you can be here.”

I stand back up and start pacing. “I have in-person client meetings at least once a month.”

“So, you fly back to Providence once a month. Just schedule them when Jackson’s on the road. You know the MLB schedule for next year is already set, don’t you? You can literally just plan around his schedule.”

I frown at the pavement. “Since when did you become such a huge baseball fan?”

I know she’s shrugging right now. “A certain someone I like to have hate-sex with is a big Berkeley fan.”

Hmm. Casual hook-up, my ass.

But Gen’s made an interesting point. I’m always hopping on video calls with co-workers. We all work from home at random times, so unless it’s a must-be-in-person meeting, why would it matter if the call is from my couch in Providence or from Jackson’s couch in Berkeley? My pulse picks up. Could this be the answer? I can keep my place here for when I’m in Providence and live wherever Jackson gets a place in Cali.

“Gen, I need to go talk to Rosanna.”

“Yes, you do, bitch. Let me know how it goes!”

I barely keep myself from running back to the office. I stop in the bathroom to quickly splash water over my face because I am literally melting. God, get me back to that San Francisco weather. I dry myself off with paper towels and then square my shoulders. Rosanna is a great boss. I’ve proven my worth here. I hope that means they’ll be willing to work with me.

I’m halfway to Rosanna’s office before I realize I don’t even know if she’s here today. My eyes land on her tight, dark curls, and my shoulders relax. Obviously, she’s here. I have a meeting with her—and Nick—this afternoon to prepare for our client meeting tomorrow. I’m getting myself frazzled.