“What happened?”
Shaking my head, I inhale deeply, but feel like I’ve taken in no air. My lungs are constricting, my throat is tightening up, and my heart is breaking. “I went to the youth center and Brett called while I was there asking about the schedule. It seems as though I’m not the only one who has complained.”
“That’s good.”
“Farmer gave me this song and dance about coaches being volunteers and without them the kids can’t play. He said he’d talk to the coaches and see how many kids were cut and try to find a spot for Chase.”
“Again, good.”
I finally look at my mom and shake my head. She’s wearing her reading glasses, her hair is in a bun, and she’s dressed smartly in a pinstriped suit. Our town may be small but being the only bank in town and being the manager, she’s important. “Brett called after I left. I don’t think I was five minutes away when his named popped up on the screen.”
“What did he say?”
Looking down at my phone, I tap the screen to bring it to life and type in my passcode. The text, mail and phone icons all have numbers telling me how many messages are waiting. I press the phone button and then the voicemail one to start Brett’s message.
“Bellamy, I believe I was crystal clear last night. You know what you have to do to get your son on a team. Don’t fuck with me.”
Mom gasps. My finger hovers over the delete button but I don’t press it. I’m tempted to call him back and ask him to explain himself but I don’t want to know what he has to say. Something in my gut tells me he knows I went to Farmer. My gut is also telling me either Farmer called him after I left, one of Brett’s cronies saw me or he’s following me. I need to save this message, not that I expect it’ll do me any good. I send it to my email and then put my phone down. “So . . . now what?”
r /> My mom sits back in her chair. She picks up a pen and starts tapping it on her desk. The longer she ponders her thoughts, the closer I come to blurting out that Chase and I are going to move. Maybe down south where it’s warmer and the people tend to be nicer.
“We’ll figure something out,” she says, shrugging.
“Even if we do, the damage is done. Chase will be bullied by those kids on the team because Brett Larsen is a petty asshole.”
“I could freeze his assets.” She starts typing on her computer.
“Don’t do anything illegal, Mom. It’s not worth losing your job over. If he’s this upset over something as trivial as baseball, I can’t imagine what he’d do if his money went missing.”
“My grandson’s happiness is worth a lot of things.”
I agree with her. “Maybe just slow down his next loan request or something.”
“That I can do.” Oddly enough this makes her happy. I give her a kiss before leaving and decide to walk to my office. It’s only two blocks away, the sun is shining, and I need the fresh air.
As soon as I step in, my boss, Owen, is hollering for me to come to his office. He waits for me to enter before shutting his office door behind me. Karter must’ve spent a long time in here after Owen’s rampage the other day because the place looks tidy as can be. He passes back and forth behind his desk, muttering to himself.
“Owen . . .”
He holds his hand up and then immediately runs it through his hair. “What in the hell did you do to piss off Brett Larsen?”
Everything I felt in my mother’s office comes back tenfold, except this time my heart is racing so fast that I fully expect a heart attack to follow. This was how my dad died, a heart attack.
“I don’t know.” My voice cracks as tears come rushing forward. Owen is standing in front of me within seconds with his hands on my shoulders. “I just want Chase to have a chance. He’s cut him from everything he’s tried out for, so I went to the youth center to talk to David Farmer. He’s just a ten-year-old boy who wants a chance, Owen. Why is Brett so hell bent on making our lives so difficult?”
“Because you have something he wants, and I suspect you know what it is.”
“So, what? I’m supposed to sleep with him?”
He shakes his head. “No, but unfortunately he intends to make your life a living hell until you do.”
I step out of Owens grasp and do my own pacing. “What did he say when he called you?”
“He wants me to fire you,” he sighs. “I told him no, that you’re an asset, but . . .”
I turn and look Owen in his eyes. “But for the company to keep peace, it’s the right thing to do?”
Owen straightens up. “I don’t cower to bullies and neither should you. There’s a plot of land for sale next to his hardware store. They’ve been using it for storage without permission.” He goes to this desk and hands me a file. “Adverse possession applies. Take a surveyor out, mark the lines, take an inventory of what’s on the property. The owner wants to sell. And be sure to put a damn for sale sign up so big it blinds that asshole.”