Grand Slam (The Boys of Summer 3)
Paul Boyd signals at me, letting me know he wants to talk. Weeks ago, I promised him a sit-down with Travis, but he’s yet to give any interviews. Knowing these reporters, Paul’s probably growing anxious and thinks I forgot.
When Irvin walks away from the podium, he guides Travis back into the courthouse, leaving me to answer any lingering questions. Internally, I groan. I’d rather be running down the steps and hailing a cab than answering reporters.
“Go ahead, Paul.” I’m sure to single him out.
“Earlier, Mr. Abbott stated that Kidd pled not guilty. Can you confirm if that was on both charges?”
“Yes; Mr. Kidd entered a plea of not guilty on both charges and was released without bail.”
“What about the other woman?” another reporter asks.
“I’m sorry?” The question catches me off guard.
“The rumor about Kidd being with another woman that night. Is there any truth to that?”
“I’m not aware. Next question,” I say, swallowing hard and pointing to a different reporter. The police would never leak that there’s a witness, so that had to come from Abbott and Abbott. Irvin is trying to call me out, even though he doesn’t know it’s me. He’s smart to do it this way. He’s hoping that whoever Travis was with that night is watching everything unfold on national television, and Irvin is praying that this will somehow make her feel bad.
I do feel bad—in fact, I feel horrible, and it’s eating me up on the inside. Worse than that, though, is that Travis and I aren’t speaking, and he doesn’t even know why. I thought about telling him about Elijah, but how do I explain the situation? It’s more than baby-daddy drama. The threats are something Travis will never understand because he isn’t a parent. I have to play Elijah’s game in order to protect Travis and Lucy.
“Can you tell us if Travis Kidd was following his victim around?” a woman in the back asks.
“Mr. Kidd has maintained his innocence from day one, so therefore we do not believe there is a victim in his case, other than Mr. Kidd himself. As for him following her around, no, I don’t believe he was doing that.”
“Excuse me, Ms. Blackwell, but the victim has stated in her complaint that, and I quote, ‘Mr. Kidd has been following me around town when I have been out with my family numerous times, and finally assaulted me while I was enjoying lunch out.’”
“I’m only aware of the complaint to which the accuser states that Mr. Kidd assaulted her. Next question.”
“But,” the woman continues, “the victim alleges that he was present at a pizza parlor and ice-skating rink.”
My blood turns cold and my tongue thick. Those are places that Travis took Lucy and me on our dates. The skating rink was a turning point for us. There is no way he took us there to spy on this woman.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t seen the full complaint and cannot comment. If there are no further questions…” That’s my cue that I’m done. I step away from the podium and make my way toward the side steps, away from the reporters.
“Saylor, wait up.”
I turn to find Paul chasing after me. I continue to walk, knowing that he’ll catch up.
“Hey, Paul.”
“Tough crowd.”
“Sometimes they don’t take no for an answer.”
“We never will,” he tells me, smiling. I smile back and raise my arm for a cab. “Listen, about that interview…”
“You’ll get it, but you’ll have to go through Jeffrey. After this morning, I am no longer working on Kidd’s profile. Jeffrey will either handle him or assign him to another junior rep.”
“Too much to handle?” Paul asks.
I shake my head. “No, there are more qualified people in the office to handle what Travis needs. Have a good day, Paul, and Happy New Year.” I slide into the backseat of the cab, and Paul is kind enough to shut my door. What I don’t tell Paul is that Travis has asked for a trade, and I don’t handle athletes outside of the Boston area. Jeffrey will turn him over to another rep who doesn’t mind traveling.
I send a quick text to my mom, letting her know that I’ll be home shortly. All I want to do is curl up on my couch and drown myself in sappy love stories that will cause an onslaught of pitiful feelings. It’s my substitution for wine. I also order Chinese takeout, hoping that it arrives by the time I get dropped off.
The cab ride takes longer than normal, the cabbie driving extra slow because it’s started to snow. I think about where Travis is going to go and how much I’ll miss seeing him. It’s funny to think how this whole incident has shaped my December, but it will also be nice to get back in touch with my other clients and make sure they’re doing okay. The Boston Rotary dinner will be a huge event for many of them, and I should be there, but knowing that Travis will be means I’m staying home.
We arrive at the same time my food does, making things easy. I pay the cabdriver and holler out to the deliveryman to hold up. No need for him to head to my apartment if I’m standing right here.
“Do you always conduct business on the streets, Saylor?”