Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series by Ainsley Claire (easy readers .txt) 📗

Jeremy winds up and throws a change-up, which looks like a fastball but arcs and drops into the catcher’s glove with a giant smack.

The umpire yells, “Strike three.”

The energy in the stadium is electric. The crowd’s getting anxious.

Jeremy manages to strike out the next two batters without ever throwing a fastball.

At the top of the second inning, the Prospectors leave two men on base and score no runs. When they take the field for the bottom of the second, Jeremy is back on the mound. Once again, the first two batters seem to be hoping for the fastball, but they don’t get it, and they strike out. The stadium crowd is losing focus.

Oliver turns to Axel. “Do you think he’s saving his fastball for a home crowd?”

“No, I just think he’s smart. A fastball can be easy to hit a homer off. He wants to make sure he clears out the heavy hitters. I think we’ll see it today.”

The boy nods. “I hope so.”

Michael Cobb, the third Tarantula batter, enters the batting box. He’s a homerun master. I pray Jeremy doesn’t get his fastball out now. He winds up and throws a splitter, followed by a slider right down the middle. Cobb swings for the fences and misses both times.

The batter returns to the box, and in my gut I know Jeremy’s going to throw his fastball this time.

He winds up, and the pitch is so fast that Cobb’s swing starts as we hear the ball smack inside the glove, and it finishes well after the ball is caught. The catcher stands and drops his glove, shaking the sting away as we all look up at the jumbotron: 110.4 miles per hour. The crowd roars, and it’s pandemonium. No one hears the umpire call the batter out.

And the batter doesn’t even care. Michael Cobb runs up and gives Jeremy a hug on the mound. Together, they’re part of history. I have goose bumps.

The cameras follow Jeremy into the dugout, where the team is celebrating.

Axel and I are jumping up and down and hugging, and then suddenly we kiss in celebration. It is shocking and exhilarating at the same time, but I’m too excited to overanalyze it.

We stay in our seats until the seventh-inning stretch, continuing to chat with Oliver and his dad sitting next to us. We learn that Oliver’s dad is a lawyer in Los Angeles with a big firm.

“Do you have a card?” Axel asks.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, but I have something I’d like to send to Oliver, and I figure rather than having you give a stranger your home address, I can mail it to you at work. Then you can check it out before you give it to him.”

He nods and hands him a business card.

“Oliver, we’re going to go see some friends,” Axel tells the boy. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the game. You were here when the record that hadn’t been touched in almost fifty years was broken. Even if it gets broken a dozen times in your lifetime, this is still very special.”

“Thanks.” Oliver nods solemnly. “It was nice sitting next to you.”

Axel and I make our way up to the visiting VIP box, which is a giant party. Axel takes a picture of Oliver’s dad’s business card and fires off a text. “I’m sending this to my assistant, Kelly. She’ll send a signed Jeremy Hamilton picture and baseball to Oliver.”

My heart melts. “That’s so generous of you.”

“I’m a sucker for people who love baseball.” He winks at me, and my heart flutters.

Nate and Lilly are positively glowing. When Nate sees me, he opens his arms and yells, “Can you believe he did it?”

“Absolutely!” I laugh. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if he breaks his own record again today.”

I hug Nate, and he turns to Axel. “I’ll never be so happy to write a bonus check for that record.”

Thomas Luck seems strangely silent, and with one last sour look, he and Candy take the opportunity to exit.

By the end of the game, Jeremy has broken his own record two more times, leaving the current top speed at 112.7 miles an hour.

The Tarantulas have struggled to keep up, and the Prospectors win the game. Jeremy finishes all nine innings, and both teams charge the pitcher’s mound to celebrate after the last out. Everyone recognizes the magnitude of this day. Jeremy has broken a record most had given up on, and pitched a complete game to boot.

Nate invites us to stick around, as most of the forty owners are here to celebrate. Champagne bottles are distributed through the dugout, and the head of the league is here to recognize Jeremy’s accomplishment. All are soon bathed in champagne.

Eventually Nate leads us down to the locker room and allows us to follow him in. The room is stuffed with press.

In the midst of everything, Axel’s phone rings. “Yes, Mary. He did it,” he says when he answers. “Yes, I’m excited. Let me see if I can get my phone to him. It’s pretty crazy here.”

I watch Axel bob and weave through the crowd, boom mics, and cameras. Jeremy sees him and gives him a big hug. Axel speaks into his ear for a moment and then hands him the phone.

Despite the cameras, Jeremy puts it to his ear. “Ma, did you see?” I hear him yell. “I did it.”

They talk for a few moments as Frank Mendez pushes the press outside. Then we stand near the back with several of the owners as he wraps up the game with a team meeting, as if they didn’t just break a record.

The PR team stays close to Jeremy, and I’m assuming they’ll go with him as he does the press gauntlet. Someone hands out schedules, and Nate will be interviewed