Nate Wrigley Field was one of my favorite places on earth—and I’d traveled enough for that statement to mean something. Walking in here always grounded me, made me feel like I was coming home even though the crowd was already roaring like summer would never come if they shut up. Anywhere else, I hated that kind of noise. Here, it never failed to fill me with renewed energy, like it was my own personal charging station. Only tonight, it did none of those things. I adjusted the brim of my Cubs cap and st epped through the tunnel, my jaw so tight that my teeth were aching as I r eplayed my conversation with Alex on a loop in my head. Everything he’d said after breakfast had slotted into my mind with brutal clarity, and sadly, it made perfect fucking sense. I just needed to hear it from Abram himself. I need to make sure there hasn’t been some kind of misunderstanding. Generally, naivety wasn’t a character flaw I possessed, but de ep down, I was still stupidly hopeful that there was another way. That speaking with Abram personally would clear all this up. I pushed the thought aside and followed the aisle numbers down the concourse, balancing a beer in one hand and a sacred Wrigley hot dog in the other. I’d been thinking about this thing since breakfast. Mustard, relish, onions, p eppers. Also known as perfection. After I’d grumbled about inviting two Yankees fans to my private box, Alex had swindled some bench seats for us in a more neutral section. As a result, I was, in addition to everything else, venturing to a part of the stadium I hadn’t set foot in for many, many years. “Your precious r eputation will remain intact,” he’d said with an indulgent smile, like doing me this favor would somehow erase everything else. I was still deciding whether to strangle him when I reached the row in question and stopped short. Kate and Abram were already waiting for me, but she turned first, her sunglasses perched on her head and hair blazing copper under the stadium lights. “Look who finally showed up.” Abram grinned warmly. “Nathaniel.” Kate’s gaze dropped immediately to the hot dog in my hands. “Is that for me?” “No.” She reached out and took it anyway. “Thanks. I’m starving.” Before it’d even fully left my grip, I snatched it back and took a massive bite, leaving her only about a third and it
was mostly bun. Abram leaned forward, clearly tuned into the field where the players were warming up instead of paying attention to our silent standoff. I handed her what remained of the hot dog and her jaw dropped. “You absolute menace.” I chewed slowly, savoring the flavors I’d been looking forward to all damn day, and then shrugged once I’d swallowed. “You’re welcome.” She glared at the sauce-smeared bread in her hand. “This should be considered a hate crime against fans of the opposing team.” “Suffering builds character.” She rolled her eyes. “Then I suppose after dealing with you, my character will be amazing.” “Scoot over,” I said, nudging her knee with my own as I lowered into the seat beside her. She huffed, then shoved my shoulder once we were both sitting. “I’m getting my own food. Try not to terrorize anyone else while I’m gone.” “I can’t make any promises.” She muttered something under her breath and squeezed past me, her hip brushing my thigh as she st epped into the aisle. I ignored the heat that followed the contact and took a long swallow of beer instead. The second she disappeared into the crowd, Abram spoke, his eyes still on the diamond even though he was clearly talking to me. “You love this game.” I frowned but nodded. “I do.” “It shows.” He finally glanced at me, gaze drifting across my Cubs gear before a small, seemingly nostalgic smile appeared on his lips. “You’re lucky to have found something other than work to be passionate about.” “Yeah. For sure.” I felt the corners of my lips curve. Not much, considering what this man wanted from me, but it was enough that I saw some of the tension easing from his features. “My mom and dad used to bring us as kids. Before Charlotte was even born. It wasn’t that often, but it stuck with me.” “Your dad is a smart man to have taken the time to make those memories with you.” He let out a short, dry laugh. “Smarter than me, anyway. My business was my baby and I got so caught up in it that I never paused for long enough to consider building anything more permanent.” What he said was heavier than the casual tone suggested. I suspected, however, that he was easing toward the same thing I wanted to talk to him about. “You did build something permanent. Your legacy will go down in the tomes of history.”
“Whose history? My line ends with me. Once I’m gone, people might know my company, but they won’t care about my name,” he said gently. “What I built is an empire, Nate. Not a legacy. Those are not the same thing. Your dad? He’s leaving behind a legacy. So is your uncle, Harlan.” The crowd roared as a player swatted a warm-up hit into the outfield, but I barely noticed it. Surprise flashed through me. “You’ve spoken to Harlan?” “He and I have occasionally crossed paths. We’re friendly when we want to be.” He cracked a smile that was a little warmer this time. “Your cousin Harrison dragged him to New York a few times to see if they could butter me up. He’s a good kid, Harrison.” “Yeah, he is,” I said carefully. “The best.” “Your family is something most can only aspire to, son. I wish I’d seen that earlier,” Abram said. “I could’ve had a chance to build that, you know? A family. I could’ve slowed down, gotten married, and had a few children of my own. Never quite made time for it. I just k ept telling myself I’d do it later.” He glanced at me then, his head shaking. “Later has a way of disappearing much faster than you think. I have few regrets, but that’s one of the big ones. I have enough money to buy the entire goddamn world and no one to leave it to.” I shifted slightly in my seat. “Your company won’t disappear. We’ve already agreed Pete’s firm will stay on, your structure remains intact, and your people will be protected.” He smiled faintly. “Twenty years ago, Pete Vanderhaul was the only guy crazy enough to fund my wild idea. He stuck with me through it all, the one man who’s been with me since the beginning. No matter how rough things got.” “Friendships like that are a blessing,” I said with a nod. Hinds’ wild idea had also made Pete insanely rich. That was probably why the dude had stuck around, but on the other hand, Pete had struck me as the loyal type. Abram’s gaze on mine suddenly became a little sharper. “That’s just the thing, Nate. I consider Pete a brother and Kate a niece. They’re not just friends. They’re my only family.” “Nothing will change in your company’s relationship with them,” I assured him. “Pete will continue to handle your finances and investments. You’re leaving them in good hands with Westwood and Sons.” That was what it all came down to, his faith in us as a firm versus as a family, but before he could respond, a flash of red hair appeared in my peripheral vision. Kate came back juggling a beer, another hot dog, and a basket of fries. “If either of you touch my food, I swear I—”
Her sneaker caught the toe of my shoe and everything tilted. “Kate!” I warned. She pitched forward, her beer sloshing over and some of her fries airborne. I dropped my drink and caught her automatically, one arm locking around her waist, the other steadying her wrist before the tray could dump its contents across all three of us. She froze against me, and for a split second, the stadium noise dulled into nothing but the rush of blood in my ears. Her body fit against mine like she’d been poured there, the scent of citrus, vanilla, and stadium popcorn clinging to her hair as it brushed my chin. Her hand braced against my chest, small and warm. “You left your foot out.” “So now it’s my fault you tripped?” I countered, tightening my grip instinctively when she wobbled again. Abram chuckled beside us. “Careful, Katherine. Nathaniel might charge a rescue fee.” She straightened abruptly, like she’d only just remembered he was there. Her cheeks flushed as she st epped back and smoothed her Yankees shirt. The glare she gave me before she sat down again was hard enough to shatter steel. “I had it handled.” “You definitely did not,” Abram said with a grin. She shoved the hot dog into my hand. “Hold this while I regain my dignity.” I glanced at it. “Can I take back the four inches of mine you ate?” Kate leaned in close so that Abram couldn’t hear. “Only if you want to lose an equivalent amount of inches somewhere else.” I chuckled in surprise and shook my head. “In that case, your dog is safe with me.” I was tempted to tell her I had inches to spare, but I k ept my mouth shut. I didn’t need to brag, and if our parents got their way, she might be finding out on her own how blessed I was. For the moment, I tried to focus on the game—and not the big secret gnawing at my insides Once she was seated, I handed her hot dog back fully intact, deliberately ke eping my eyes on the field instead of her knee pressing against mine. Abram watched us both with a quiet intensity that made my shoulders tighten. I knew what he was after, what he thought he was looking at, and after that brief chat, I knew why. The game began, the crowd surging to its feet. Kate shouted aggressively pro-Yankees encouragement, probably just to annoy me. I fired back without even thinking about it, the rhythm of our bickering sliding into a natural back and forth. As the game rolled on, neither team had gotten a run, so the tension in the stadium climbed inning by inning. I tried to create another opportunity to talk to Hinds so we could
get to the part of that conversation I still needed to have with him, but he was fully absorbed in the game, and Kate was too close. By the seventh inning, the score was still zero to zero, but the Cubs had runners on base, waiting to finally break the dry spell. The stadium vibrated with noise, thousands of fans on their feet, chanting and clapping in a rolling wave that set my blood on fire. I stood with them, shouting toward the field. “Come on! Bring it home!” Beside me, Kate sprang to her feet, nearly slamming her shoulder into mine. Her hair brushed my jaw when she turned, that damn scent invading my nostrils all over again. “Strike him out! Send them home tonight crying!” she shouted. I shouted over her, much louder than necessary. This was the only place where I ever got loud and I refused to dial it down for her. She shoved me, her palm landing square against my chest. “You’re hurting my ears.” Hinds laughed, a de ep, genuine sound that made it seem like he was delighted by our bickering. The next pitch sailed in, and the crack of the bat split the air. The ball rocketed into left field and the stadium erupted as a runner rounded third. “Yes!” I roared, pumping my fist. The runner slid home safe and everyone went wild. Exc ept Kate, who groaned and threw her hands up. “That was luck.” “That was skill,” I said loudly, leaning closer so she could hear me over the crowd. She scoffed. “It was blind luck.” “Ke ep telling yourself that, but if you’ll just take a quick peek at the scoreboard, you’ll find it disagrees. Boom. In your face!” She turned toward me, her eyes flashing and her cheeks rosy from shouting, or maybe from standing so close to me, but I refused to consider that an actual possibility. “If the Yankees were on their own turf—” “They’d still lose,” I cut in. She scoffed again, but she didn’t st ep away, her shoulder still pressed against mine as the crowd shifted around us. By the ninth inning, the Cubs clung to their one-run lead. My voice had gone rough from yelling and the adrenaline buzzing under my skin. I barely recognized myself when games got this close, loud and unfiltered with every nerve exposed. Kate matched me shout for shout, taunting every Cubs error and cheering every Yankees highlight r eplay that flashed across the big screen like it might somehow change the score retroactively.
Every time she leaned forward, her arm brushed mine, but neither of us moved to stop it from happening. When the final out landed squarely in the first baseman’s glove, Wrigley detonated into celebration. I threw both arms into the air, pure triumph surging through me. “Yes! That’s how you close it out!” Kate groaned dramatically, dropping back into her seat. “Disgusting.” “Glorious,” I countered, grinning before I could stop myself. Hinds looked slowly between us, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “You two are remarkable together. If you ever agreed on anything, you’d be a perfect team.” I winced and turned away, my chest suddenly feeling like it was closing up. Kate’s gaze darted toward me before she quickly looked away like she’d been caught thinking something she didn’t want to share with the rest of the class. The post-game crowd surged through the exits in a noisy tide. We moved with it, shoulder to shoulder with strangers, Kate’s sleeve occasionally brushing mine as we were pushed forward. Once we were outside the stadium, Hinds slowed near a curb where a sleek black car idled. He turned to me, extending his hand. “Thank you for tonight. I enjoyed it more than I expected to.” I shook his hand firmly. “Anytime you want to catch a game here, let me know.” “I’ve got a flight to catch.” He held my grip a second longer, eyes intent on mine. “I look forward to hearing what your family decides. Let me know. Ke ep well, Nate.” I stiffened slightly. “I’m sure we’ll be in touch very soon.” Kate’s head snapped toward me. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Before I could answer, the crowd pressed in around us, funneling Kate and me to the street and s eparating us from Hinds as he slid into the waiting car. The door shut and the vehicle disappeared into traffic. Kate st epped closer to me, glaring up into my eyes and raising her voice over the noise. “Nate, what decision? I swear, if someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to lose my mind.” I hesitated to let a group of fans shove past us, their laughter echoing down the sidewalk. The moment stretched, her eyes locked on mine like she expected honesty I wasn’t pr epared to give. My only option was to play dumb. “Let’s get out of here,” I said finally. “I’ll drive you home.” Suspicion tightened the corners of her eyes, but at least she nodded. “Yeah, okay, fine.” She followed me to my car, one side of her lower lip tucked between her teeth and her brow furrowed. The drive back to the St. Regis passed in unusual quiet for the two of us. Traffic crawled through late-evening congestion, but Kate just stared out the passenger
window, her fingers drumming lightly against her thigh. It made her seem restless, like she wanted to ke ep asking what was going on but k ept swallowing it instead. I gripped the steering wheel so tight, my knuckles turned white as my thoughts circled the conversations I’d had with Alex and with Hinds. The more I thought about them, the more it felt like my head was being slowly but forcefully pushed underwater. There had been no misunderstandings. My brother hadn’t been making shit up—not that it was Alex’s style to do that—and the naive hopes I’d been trying to hang onto had been just as idiotic as I’d known they would turn out to be. When we reached our building, I pulled into the underground garage and killed the engine. We rode the elevator up in silence, the air between us thick with everything I wasn’t saying, but I was acutely aware of her beside me, of every quiet shift of her weight and the faint warmth radiating from her arm. Kate paused at her door as we reached our apartments, fumbling briefly with her keys before glancing at me. “Thanks for the ride.” I nodded and then, before I could second-guess the instinct, I heard myself ask, “Are you seeing anyone?” The question hung between us for a long moment. Kate’s eyes lifted slowly to meet mine. I watched confusion flicker across her face, not looking like it was directed at me, but rather inward, like she was sorting through truths and deciding which one to offer up. “I am,” she said finally. “Are you?” A dull, de ep pang echoed through my chest and I swallowed, forcing myself to nod as I unlocked my own door. “I am, too,” I said, the admission tasting like betrayal even as it left my mouth. “Good night, Kate.” She studied me for another second, finally just giving me a small nod. “Goodnight, Nate.” I went into my apartment and closed the door behind me, tossing my keys onto the counter and pulling the Cubs shirt off over my head. The adrenaline of the game had burned off and exhaustion settled into my bones. After a long moment of just standing there, I dropped my shirt on the floor—which I never did—and went over to my laptop, opening it on the kitchen island. Emma’s last message stared back at me from my inbox. I clicked r eply and glared at the blinking cursor, for the first time ever having trouble knowing what to say.
Emma, I needed to tell you something. I stopped, deleted the sentence, and after inhaling a de ep breath, I tried again. I didn’t know how to explain this properly. Another pause. Another deletion. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, the words I needed to say refusing to take shape. Across the hall, I imagined Kate moving through her routine as if this was just another night, and for a beat, I was really fucking jealous of her for it. The cursor blinked steadily, waiting for me to come up with something, anything, that would be good enough to end a five-year-long cyber relationship. This was possibly going to be the last email I ever sent Emma, but I exhaled slowly and then closed the laptop without sending a thing. I needed to say goodbye to her but I wanted to do it in person, which was why I had asked her to meet with me. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it through email. Later, I decided.