I immediately recognized the woman in the picture. Vanessa, wearing one of her slinky red dresses, was standing outside the training area dressed to the nines. The next image showed one of our newest recruits stepping over to her and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She may have been done with me, finally, but she was trying to sink her claws into another unsuspecting male.

“Mr. Ramsey, do you know the woman in these photographs?” the general manager asked, and I replied truthfully and explained we hadn’t been together since the non-wedding.

“It seems she’s been causing a problem with our players.”

“Well, she’s signed with Venture Models. You could let them know how she’s behaving. Her job means everything to her.”

“But you're serious about her not being a problem?”

“Not for me. She’s history.”

The slideshow flickered to another image, and I felt the tips of my ears redden as a shot of me with Aspen appeared. It was one of our afternoon dates at The Purple Goat, and I kissed her outside under the awning as it poured all around us. The rain had come from all different directions, and we were soaked just by stepping outside.

“And her?” he asked, tilting his head as I smiled.

“She’s… everything.”

“And will she be a problem like the last?”

“Not at all.”

One of the team owners chose that moment to chime in and ask where the new woman was and why she wasn’t with me.

Chuckling, I leaned back in my chair, at ease for the first time since I walked into the room.

“Her family owns a farm in my hometown. Aspen is slated to take it over once her dad officially retires.”

“Farmer? That’s some hard work there.”

Another owner in the room added, “Is she going to be a distraction at all?”

“No, sir. She’s been in my life since I was six years old.”

The man nodded and flipped through the stack of papers resting on the table in front of him.

“Aspen?” Rebecca asked, and I confirmed her name. “That’s the tattoo. On your arm, I mean. It’s an aspen tree.”

“Yeah. How’d you know that?” I questioned as I rubbed the area.

“I grew up in Alaska and recognized it.” She shrugged and clicked a few keys on her laptop. “From a PR perspective, I don’t think she’ll be an issue either. People love a childhood-friends-to-lovers romance.”

“Oh, we were definitely not friends growing up. We practically hated each other.”

“Really?” Rebecca asked, the screen switching to another picture of me and Aspen standing in line at Chuck’s grocery store. She was leaning against me, her back to my chest, and I had my arms wrapped around her shoulders with her favorite candy bar dangling from my hand.

“It’s the truth. Ask anyone from our town. It took six weeks of us dating before they stopped running in the opposite direction whenever they saw us together.”

All conversations in the room halted as the group looked at me with wide, wary eyes.

“There was an incident in the chemistry lab in high school. I’ll leave it at that.” I chuckled.

The PR director paused with her mouth agape, before she continued, “Well, we’ll spin it as a Hallmark-esque romance then. Either way, when the public learns more about your new girl, they’re going to go a little nuts, since your last relationship ended with you being stood up at the altar.”

“I wasn’t stood up. She was just late to the nuptials, and I happened to stumble upon what had her running behind,” I replied diplomatically. “Is my personal life really that interesting?”

“For most sports players, no.” I narrowed my eyes and waited for Rebecca to resume her point. “But you’ve been listed as one of the World’s Most Eligible Bachelors and the World’s Sexiest Men multiple times. The public is interested. Believe me.”

Turning back toward the screen, she shows a bar graph that illustrates searches of my name against other players in internet browsers. I surpassed everyone on the team and only fell short behind some of the most famous players in recent years. I’d never realized how well-known I’d become.

“Oh.”

“So, when the public asks about your new relationship, we’ll have something prepared. We should probably consider a soft-launch of sorts. Maybe a charity event.” Rebecca went on and on about ways to spin the coupling to help with team recognition and boost the overall public view.

“Rebecca,” I chimed in. “I hate to burst your bubble, but Aspen won’t be attending any of those things. She works seven days a week, for at least fourteen hours a day. Her life is busy all the time.”

“So, how do you expect to make the relationship work?” she asked, but my coach immediately interrupted and asked about the sponsorships that required my attention. Since they had been the reason I needed to return to LA early.

But through the rest of the two-hour meeting, in which they droned on about team and individual sponsorships and promotions, things that didn’t require my attention, I couldn’t help but think about when I’d get a chance to see Aspen again. Outside of daily calls, I had no idea. I was even scheduled to be present for parades around the holidays, leaving me little opportunity to travel home.

And it wasn’t only Aspen I wanted to devote time to. My mom and I were finally patching up our relationship. I didn’t want to put a strain on that so soon.

As the meeting came to a close, I pulled Coach Hampton and Rebecca aside.

“Thanks for the meeting, and I look forward to helping the team in any way I can, but moving forward, please limit my sponsorships, charity work, and promotional events to five or less during the off season,” I said professionally, but to my own ears, I sounded like a whiny child.

I was surprised when Coach smirked and nodded. Rebecca, on the other hand, wrinkled her nose.

“I thought you said the girl wouldn’t be an issue.”

“It’s not the girl, Rebecca. It’s called downtime for a reason. I need time to train and prepare for the next season as well as rest. And on top of that, I just started making amends with my mother. I’d like to be able to visit with her when I’m not playing.”

“Well, I…. You’re our most popular player, Owen. The fans expect—”

“The fans expect to see me play and play well. I can’t do that if I’m exhausted when the season starts. You have plenty of good-looking up-and-coming players. I’m certain any of them could fill those spots just as good as I could. I’m not asking you to move things around this year. I’ve made the commitment. But please keep it in mind when the season starts.”

With little argument, she nodded and scooted down the hall. Suddenly, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder. Tom Sung, the general manager and hall-of-famer, stood at the doorway looking pleased.

“Glad to see you making your life a priority, Owen. This game can be a brutal one with long seasons. Family should always come first.”

“Thanks, Mr. Sung.”

“Now, what do you say to a midday drink? After sitting in that meeting for the last two hours, I can’t feel my ass any longer.”

Chuckling, I agreed, as did Coach Hampton. I knew better than to decline the chance to talk ball with a player immortalized in the MLB Hall of Fame. Even if he could sign me away at a moment's notice. I liked to think we had a good relationship. He’s the one who took a chance on me when I was just a little asshole in college.

A few nights later, I was lying in my newly delivered bed watching John Wick for the umpteenth time. I’d spent the majority of the week purchasing all new furniture for the house. Vanessa had decorated it from top to bottom when she moved in, all in her glamorous style. I didn’t have a need for a pink velvet couch or a fur rug under my bed.