The Trade(91)

“Could not agree more,” Marcus says, working on his thigh. “What are you doing after this? Want to grab something to eat?”

I try to hold back a smile. Did I just make . . . a friend?

“Sure, that sounds great.”





Two burgers are placed in front of us. Whereas Marcus opted for fries, I asked for steamed broccoli, an extra patty, no cheese, and no bun. Still fucking good, but not as good as Marcus’s food looks.

Fry stuffed in his face, Marcus says, “You start your diet early?”

“Routine,” I answer, not wanting to make him feel bad, but from the way he’s stuffing fry after fry in his mouth, I’m going to guess he doesn’t mind at all. “So how are these last days with your kids?”

“Stressful. I try to spend as much time with them as possible, and help Kate out, knowing the next months are going to be hard on her. I get my workouts in while they’re in school, and when they’re home, it’s homework, dinner, and then the time we have before bed is usually playing games or just having fun as a family.”

I nod, impressed with his schedule. I thought mine was hectic until I realized not having kids makes things a little easier. “Wow,” I say. “I don’t know how you do it. Dividing your attention up like that; props to you, man.”

“It becomes . . . routine.” He smiles and then takes a giant bite out of his burger while I chow down on my broccoli. “What about you? You’re not married, right?” I shake my head. “Girlfriend?”

I swallow. “Just recently. First season with a girlfriend, actually. I tried to put it off as long as I could but I couldn’t keep myself away from Natalie.”

“That’s how I was with Kate. We met in college and I was trying to focus on the sport, but she dug under my skin after she became my tutor for economics.” He chuckles to himself and shakes his head. “I was a goner, man. Same thing with you and Natalie?”

“Yeah, she’s actually Jason Orson’s sister.”

“No shit. He’s cool with that?”

“Practically flung her in my direction.” We both laugh. “Yeah, he’s cool. And she, hell, when I first met her I thought she was married. That’s what my sister thought.”

“And your sister’s married to Carson Stone, right?”

“Yup, met in college. Got married a few years ago. Couldn’t ask for a better brother-in-law, or man for my sister. Bobcats jersey aside, he’s a pretty awesome guy.” Marcus chuckles at that. “Got to know Natalie while in St. Croix with friends.”

“Pre-preseason trip?”

“Yup. Did you go somewhere?”

“Disney. Kind of a tradition for now but will probably change when the kids get older.”

I sip my water and set it back down on the table. “When we were in St. Croix, there was a miscommunication, and we ended up having to share a room.”

“Oh shit.” He laughs and asks, “You were already crushing on her at this point?”

“Fucking besotted.”

Marcus slaps the table and laughs his ass off. “Oh shit, you stood no chance.”

“Nope, especially when she started wearing nightgowns to bed.”

“You were fucked.”

“In the best way possible.” I sigh just thinking about her. “She’s, fuck, man, she’s so beautiful on the inside, which matches her outside. She’s funny, loves joking around, and has the greatest heart. Her energy gives me joy, and I’m fucking terrified I’m going to lose that with the season coming up. She keeps telling me everything is going to be okay, that she’s used to the baseball season because of Jason, but I don’t know.” I lean back and drag a hand over my jaw. “I’m already starting to feel the fatigue of the articles. Then there are the fans on the streets, in restaurants, when I’m walking into the goddamn stadium. I’m used to being booed at when I go to other stadiums, but I’m not used to being hated by my own fans. It’s taking a toll.”

Marcus pauses and sets his burger down. “I didn’t know you were being berated outside of the articles.”

I laugh, but it lacks humor as I play with my fork. “Every goddamn day. I’m pretty strong mentally, but fuck, they’re saying some shitty things and I . . . I’m lucky that Natalie looked my way, you know? I don’t need her hearing the shit people say to me, about me, nor do I ever want her to get involved in the mix either. I think that’s what I’m worried about the most, her getting thrown into all of it.”

“They won’t touch her,” Marcus says. “I’ve been a Rebel for six years now and even though the fans are pretty dirty, one thing they don’t touch is families. Or else I would be having a talk with the front office especially considering my son’s disabilities. They pick on the players, not the families.”

“I hope so,” I say, wondering if I’m the exception though. I spoke with Gregory, the head of publicity for the Rebels, and he was shocked by the amount of bad press I’d received, to the point that they’re working on campaigns to help with my image with the fans. Some of their ideas . . . giving me an edgier makeover so I don’t look so clean-cut; they’ve asked me to not shave as much, leaving a constant scruff on my face, and they even suggested I start a Twitter fight with someone. I told them I would grow the scruff and that was about it.