7. MATTHEWS

MATTHEWS

2024

I had managed the first weeks of interviews from my hotel’s board room downtown; mostly stuffy general managers and old white men who never played baseball but enjoyed the money it made them. I had been grabbed, pinched, hugged, and sexualized, but I had yet to see Cael Cody.

I knew today would be different the moment the car drove me out of the city and down toward the Harbor campus. Switching hotels had been a hassle, and it seemed like I would stillhave to drive an hour into the city every night after I was finished at the stadium. It was annoying but I’d manage.

Rhode Island was gorgeous; large oak trees tangled together and rained down red, orange, and brown throughout the wide paved roads that led up to the University. I’d tucked into a tight pair of jeans and a form-fitting dark blouse that showed off the swell of my breasts. I’d thought about wearing something more formal, but it struck me that most of the people I would be meeting today absolutely would not care how I was dressed.

They’d all be in sweats and gym clothes anyway.

The feathery edges of my freshly cut brown hair rubbed against my jawline as I stepped from the car and carried my belongings to the front entrance. The stadium was massive, bigger than I had ever expected and it was incredible in design. Long, swooping architecture collided with strong navy blue steel beams and frosted glass. It was beautiful.

I snapped a photo of the Hornets’ blue and yellow logo painted on the main door and texted it to Bobbi .

Welcome to Hell.

I hit send and pulled it open stepping into an empty brick hallway. It was early as hell, and rolling out of bed before five was not something I had wanted to do, but when Ryan Cody, head coach, emailed me instructing me to arrive early, I listened.

I had a bone to pick.

Looking around and attempting not to appear too lost, I wandered into an empty office to my left that was labeled ‘main’ and hoped to at least find a person.

“Well, aren't you a pretty thing?” An older lady walked out from a back office in a Harbor hoodie and a pair of jeans. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m here to see Ryan Cody? My name is Ma—”

“Clementine Matthews.”

His voice sounded just as scary as it always had and, when I managed to turn myself around to face him, I felt all the angry resolve leave me. He looked so old and tired, his dirty blond hair had started to gray and curl around his ears, tangling into a messy beard. But his eyes were the same, mossy green and kind. It was hard to stay mad at him when he was looking at me like that.

“You look more like your Mama everyday,” he said, trying to break the tension, but his words burrowed into my chest and left a stinging sensation. “Thank you, Susanna.” He looked over my shoulder, waving off the old lady, and directed me toward his office.

“How did you know it was me?” I asked.

“They sent over your picture for press tags.” He handed me a navy blue lanyard with two cards on it, one my ID and the other a scan card. “You can use that to get into the building,” he instructed.

“How are you?” I asked him, not even sure I wanted the answer.

“Small talk feels weird, Clementine. I used to watch baseball with you in the living room each Saturday since you and Cael were in diapers.”

The mention of Cael made my heart race.

It was inevitable that he’d be brought up and, to my knowledge, I had prepared myself for that moment. Turned out I had been lying to myself.

“Small talk is a formality. ”

He stopped, swallowing whatever he was going to say, and opened the door to his office. It was a mess, which I assumed it would be. He had never been good at keeping things together; that had been Lorraine’s specialty. Towers of boxes created a tunnel into his main office that seemed much tidier than the previous. He had a small ratty couch in there that he swept blankets off of and tucked into a cabinet behind his large wooden desk.

He offered me a seat and I set my bag down beside the couch, waiting for him to say anything that might make me feel a little better about everything.

“Do you want coffee?” He asked me after a beat of silence and I shook my head.

“Mr. Cody,” I said, trying to sound polite. “I’m here in a professional capacity to interview your team on their incredible win after such a drought. I’m not here as Clementine Matthews; I am not the girl you watched run around in diapers. While I’m here I would appreciate it if you upheld that level of professionalism.”

He cocked his head at me, mulling over my words.

“You certainly are not.”

“Thank you.” I swallowed tightly. “I’ll need an office space to conduct the interviews and if you know of any hotels in the area that would be wonderful. The drive into the city is nearly an hour.”

“I thought you were staying in town.” He licked his bottom lip. “If I had known you were traveling in, I wouldn’t have asked you to meet me this early.”

“Why did you?” I asked, ignoring his half-assed apology.

I’d been curious since the email came through about why he wanted me here long before any of the other players would arrive.

“I’m here to interview the players, Mr. Cody, and if it was to prevent us from colliding—”

The door to his office swung open wildly and all of the air was sucked from the room.

“What the hell is wrong with you, letting Arlo leave? Offer him a long-term position, more money, something. You can’t just—”

Whatever he said next was muted.

My ears rang and the corners of my vision grew dark .

Cael stood, mere feet from me, in a sweater and shorts; he had grown. His frame was at least a foot taller than the last time I’d seen him and he had developed nicely into all of his chiseled features. He had to be at least 6’3 now. His jaw ticked when his father didn’t answer him. He hadn’t even noticed me sitting there.

“ Cael ,” Ryan clenched, “it’s not a good time.”

“I don't give a shit,” he said, stepping further into the room.

His hair was longer than in the photo and stuck out in dirty blond chunks from beneath his backward hat. He stared at his Dad, ready to fight, and I’d never seen him so aggressive. It was intriguing and terrifying.

It made me curious and I shifted on the couch, making the fabric strain loudly in the silence.

“Sorry,” he lobbed an apology at me with a curt nod, not even taking the time to process what his eyes saw.

“Cael,” Ryan warned as his head snapped back to where I sat, ankles crossed, staring at him.

Fire burned behind those exhausted blue eyes and my heart came alive at the sight.

“Clementine?”

My name dripped from him like it pained him to say it and he blinked at me for a moment before closing his eyes and shaking his head. When he opened them again it was like he expected me to be gone, as if I was nothing more than a ghost.

Cael pushed his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, confusion and shock vibrating from him as his eyes flickered over me. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again into a tight line before he cocked his head to the side and left the office.

I made to get up and go after him but Ryan stood first.

“Don’t,” he said. “Let him go.”

“You knew it was me and you didn’t tell him I was coming?” I asked.

“Now you understand why I wanted you here early.” He picked up the phone, dialing an extension and, within minutes, there was a knock on the door .

I had been so unfocused I hadn’t even heard who he had called. My fingers itched against the fabric of the couch, begging me to get up, to go find Cael. That invisible string wound so tightly around my neck I could barely breathe.

“Silas,” he introduced us.

I stood and shook his hand. He was older than me, but not quite as old as Ryan, and had the prettiest gray-blue eyes I’d ever seen. He was tall and his hair was dark and short, pushed back off his face, but everything about his demeanor spoke to his softness as he shook my hand.

“Silas Shore,” he tried again when I didn’t introduce myself.

“Mary Matthews.” I used my mother’s name and I could see Ryan flinch out of the corner of my eye. Silas looked between us like he could sense the tension and nodded.

“It’s wonderful to meet you.” He was more than polite, which I’d expected from the only male grandson of the Shores. He had been born with a weight on his shoulders to uphold the family name.

It wasn’t a simple task, carrying around that kind of wealth, but the politeness he extended wasn’t fake like most of the men I had met recently. It was genuine.

“I’m head of the medical staff here at the stadium. I primarily work with the baseball team but I oversee the care for another six professional teams on campus.”

“The women's fastpitch, basketball, and soccer, as well as the men's hockey, basketball, and lacrosse,” I said and he looked impressed.

“She did her research,” he said to Ryan, who was still staring at me like I might crawl out of my skin and become the monster under his bed.

“Research is my job, Mr. Shore.”

“Silas,” he corrected. “Mr. Shore is my father, who I assume you met.”

“I did have the pleasure, yes,” I nodded.

The resemblance was there; the same ashy-brown hair and expressive eyebrows. His father was clean-shaven whereas Silas sported a trimmed beard and mustache. Rebellion in the form of facial hair. His father had been polite, but handsy.

“She’s staying in the city,” Ryan said finally .

“Ah! That’s why I was called. Seems lately I’m just a landlord…” He laughed tightly. “There’s a guest room at Dansby House that’s yours for the duration of your stay. It’s cozy but it’ll do, and then you aren’t driving two hours every day.” He explained. “Luckily for you, it was just cleaned out.”

“I couldn’t do that.” I shook my head. I wanted to keep my space from their personal lives. From Cael.

“I insist, and Dansby has a sitting room with a couch which will be much more comfortable for conducting interviews.”

“That’s very kind of you but—”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Ms. Matthews.” He struggled to call me that, it was written all over his tired face. “Please, stay at Dansby. Interview the boys. I promise you that you’ll get better results in a space where they feel at home.”

“You make them sound like gremlins, should I be scared about getting them wet?” I smiled.

“ Yes ,” Silas answered for Ryan. “And definitely don’t feed them after midnight.”

“Alright.” I laughed gently and turned to look at Ryan for a moment, considering the softness of his usually demanding voice, and nodded. “I’ll have my bags brought over.”

“Perfect, now if you’ll excuse me…” He left his own office and Silas clapped his hands together.

“Lucky you.” He wiggled his eyebrow at me. “Getting to witness a famous Cody family blow up so early in the morning.”

He had no idea who I was. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or offended that I had never been mentioned. Maybe a little of both.

“They seem at odds with one another,” I said.

“Not sure I should be talking family politics with a reporter,” he retorted.

I completely understood his cautious approach. Over the last year, the Hornets ball team had been put through the wringer more than once.

The local papers, as well as the NCAA circuit, seemed to love the drama that surrounded the team; from Arlo King’s messy life on and off the field, to the coaching staff and team record. The Hornets have been a nest poked more than once. I would have to be gentle with them to get anything of interest for the piece on them, and I wasn’t leaving until I did.

“Off the record,” I said with a soft smile.

“Something about the look in your eyes tells me you are never off the record, Mary.”

I stifled a laugh, shifting in my high heels, and nodded. “I suppose you’re right to assume that. How about we start with the house? Dansby?”

“The gremlins call it the Nest.”