Seventh Inning Stretch

Chapter 2

As Matt pushed through the glass doors into the reception area of the gym where he worked, he saw the dark look his co-worker Roxie Johnson threw at him, and the song he’d been whistling died on his lips. “What?” he asked, defensive. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

She flipped her long, red ponytail off her shoulder. “Finally. You’re only a half hour late. Couldn’t you’ve called? We thought you weren’t coming in.”

“I was running late.” At the door leading to the employees-only area of the gym, Matt swiped his ID card in the key slot and waited for the light to turn from amber to green. And waited. And waited. Jiggling the door knob, he whined, “Roxie. My card’s not working.”

She sank into the chair in front of her computer, a smug smirk on her face. “I deactivated it.”

“What?” Matt swiped the card a second time, as if he didn’t believe her. “Let me in.”

“Why were you late?” she countered.

“Roxie.” Matt sighed and tugged on the door knob, but it didn’t open. “Why is it only me you pick on?”

She flashed him a sweet grin. “Because I like you. Walk around the back way, if you want, or tell me why you’re late and I’ll buzz you in.”

With narrowed eyes, he threw her an angry glare she ignored as she sipped a cup of hot coffee. After a moment, when he realized that wouldn’t get him anywhere, he sighed again. “Fine. I was busy, okay? Doing something.”

Roxie’s grin widened. “Doing Vic?”

A thin blush rose in Matt’s cheeks. “Yeah. Happy?”

“My day just got better,” she conceded. “If I had to wake up beside that man, I’d never get out of bed.”

Matt agreed. “It’s hard some days, let me tell you. Can I come in now?”

Unfolding herself from her chair, Roxie stretched out her leg and hit the door buzzer with the pointed toe of what looked like a black ballerina flat. It went well with the black, skin-tight leggings she wore, and the oversized black T-shirt that was cinched at her waist with a dark gray scarf. As Matt stepped around the reception desk to get his messages, he asked, “Who died?”

“Black’s the new black,” Roxie told him as she settled into her chair with her coffee mug. “Really, Matt, you surprise me. For a gay man, you’ve no sense of style.”

He laughed. “You surprise me. For an anarchist, you do.”

Roxie waited until he was close enough, then punched his hip with one small fist. “I’m not an anarchist. I’m just your average everyday superhero in disguise.”

With a laugh, Matt danced out of reach. “Yeah, I got me one of those at home.”

In bed, he added silently. His thoughts returned to his lover, who Matt had left drifting back to sleep as he himself had headed for the shower. Some things were worth being late to work for, and Vic was number one on that list.

As he flipped through the little pink pages of Roxie’s message pad, searching for his own name, she nudged his leg with her foot to get his attention. “Ask me what you missed.”

“I’m not that late,” Matt grumbled. “What could happen in thirty minutes?”

That smug grin was back. “Staff meeting,” she reminded him, speaking into her coffee mug.

“Shit.” Leaning back against her desk, Matt gave up looking through the messages and frowned at her. “I totally forgot.”

She shot back, “I totally noticed. So did everyone else.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Matt sighed. Some days Roxie could be the most talkative person on the planet, and other days, getting anything out of her was a battle of wills, one he never won. Taking the bait, he asked, “So…what’d I miss?”

Roxie shrugged. “Bagels.”

Another sigh, this one frustrated. She could annoy him so badly at times. Why he let her get under his skin, he didn’t know. All this because she liked him? God, how torturous would life be if she didn’t? “No, I don’t care about that. I mean—”

“Oh, well,” she said, cutting him off. “If you don’t care about that, then I guess I’ll just eat this myself. I already had one but, hey, I’ll be hungry in a few hours. I can save it until then.”

As she spoke, she pointed to a napkin Matt hadn’t noticed by her mouse pad. It was obviously wrapped around something, and now that he looked at it, he thought it might hold a large, warm bagel. “Is that for me?”

“It was,” Roxie groused. “Cinnamon, too. These things are like golden tickets, you know? I had to fend off half the staff to save one for you. But hey, if you don’t want it, I’ll just…”

“I didn’t say that. I’ll take it.” Matt reached across her keyboard for the napkin, then remembered his manners. The dark scowl she leveled his way made him hesitate. “That was real nice of you. Thanks. Can I have it?”

With a disgusted sigh, she sat back and he reached out again. The bagel was still warm, and Roxie had slathered it with thick cream cheese. As he unwrapped the napkin, the bagel’s cinnamon sugar crust flaked off in spots, and Matt ate those first. For a moment, she watched him eat. The bagel tasted heavenly—because he’d been running late, he hadn’t bothered with breakfast. This really hit the spot. Before he could thank her again, Roxie sighed. “You’re so damn frustrating sometimes, you know?”

Matt almost choked. “Me? Look who’s talking.”

“Don’t you even care about the staff meeting?” she snapped. Matt shook his head, which earned him an angry glare. “Fine. I’ll tell you about it anyway. We talked about you.”

“You did?” Matt narrowed his eyes. “Is that good or bad?”

Skirting the question, Roxie said, “Remember that charity event hosted by Bon Air hospice? The baseball tournament sponsored by local gyms?”

Matt vaguely recalled hearing something about that months earlier. “The one we weren’t invited to?”

“Our membership is too small.” Roxie grimaced and rolled her eyes. “Funny how when one of their bigwigs drops out, we’re next up to bat.”

Matt swallowed down the half-chewed bagel in his mouth. “Wait. You’re saying we’re in?”

The charity event was an annual tradition. The event was held at the Diamond, the former home of Richmond’s minor league baseball team and now empty. Over the course of a four-day weekend, the tournament pitted teams against each other until, at the end of the fourth day, one was crowned a winner. Most of the ticket and food sales went to the community outreach, charitable arm of the hospice that hosted the event.

Every year, four gyms in the Richmond area participated, sponsoring two teams each to face off on a baseball field. Every year, the gym where Matt worked applied to compete, and every year, they were turned down. The reason was always the same—they didn’t have the membership numbers to support the event, which Matt thought sounded like corporate bullshit. A baseball team had nine members. They would have to provide two teams to the event, a total of eighteen people. Maybe their roster didn’t have the thousand-plus members that Gold’s Gym boasted, but they had a dedicated core of people who paid their dues and worked out regularly.

But now it seemed they were invited to play, after all. “What happened?” Matt wanted to know.

Roxie shrugged. “I think Victory bowed out. There’s the Y, Gold’s, and American Family, then us. If we want it. Part of me says we shouldn’t bother. I mean, why should we be the understudy, you know?”

“It’d be great exposure,” Matt pointed out. “We’d see a boost in membership, I’m sure. And it’d be a lot of fun, admit it.”

The glower Roxie gave him rivaled Vic’s best. “A day at a ballpark hanging out with my coworkers is not my idea of a lot of fun,” she muttered.

“You sound like my guy,” Matt teased.

Roxie flipped her hair off her shoulder, a nonchalant gesture that made Matt grin. “We’re soul mates, I’m telling you. Too bad we both like dick.”

“Too bad for you,” Matt pointed out. “I’m quite happy about it, myself. So are we going to play in the game, or not?”

Roxie shrugged. “You know we are. We have two weeks to get teams together, so if I were you, I’d get cracking. Find out who’s interested, get them lined up, maybe get together to practice a bit—”

“Me?” Matt asked, incredulous. “Why me?”

That smug grin was back, damn her. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Since you were the only one not at the staff meeting, the rest of us voted unanimously to make you captain of one of the teams.”

Matt didn’t buy the mock innocence in her voice for a minute. “Shit.”