Chuck stood waiting in the arrivals area, a single yellow rose in his right hand. When I emerged, loaded down with three bags, including the Louis Vuitton Keepall that held my booty of designer outfits from Paris, he smiled and proffered the flower. We embraced and I kissed him on the lips. He was surprised.

“I’m happy to see you too but, isn’t your fiancé going to be annoyed that you give out kisses on the lips to complete strangers?”

“Not if the stranger is cute and a good friend…as well as my boss. Anyway, I don’t have a fiancé—”

“But it’s all over the media. You and Trent—”

“Don’t mention his name!” I let out an aggravated roar. “Where’s your car? Let’s go somewhere and I’ll give you the details.” Chuck took my other two bags in hand, but I clung onto the Louis Vuitton bag for dear life.

“What have you got in there? Gold bullion?” I snickered. “We’re an hour away from your place. It’s almost 1 in the morning. No traffic. Maybe we could cut that to 45 minutes.”

“No, Chuck. There’s no one home. Debbie moved in with Otis. I don’t want to be alone right now. Can we talk at your place?”

“Sure. It’s the same distance either way. I’ve got some news of my own to tell you as well…”

---

About a half-hour into our drive to Chuck’s house in Corona Del Mar, the conversation finally turned to Chuck’s personal news. I use the word conversation loosely since he mostly stared straight ahead at the road and occasionally interspersed a ‘yeah’ or ‘really’ in my monologue. I told him about the music video in Berlin and spending the final evening attending Trent’s concert and having a late dinner in his hotel suite. Chuck whistled when I told him that I’d drunk the equivalent of five shots of Kirschwasser. Then I related the farce of waking up, still completely clothed, in Trent’s bed the next morning and missing my flight back home.

“Trent swore he didn’t try to do anything. He…uh…spooned me. But that was it!”

Chuck shot a glance at me but quickly returned his attention to the road. He said something under his breath, but I didn’t catch it. I went on to guiltily admit I swapped out a bit of my dignity for an all-expenses paid weekend in Paris. “And a small fortune in designer clothes.” I nodded at the Louis Vuitton bag sitting in the back seat. “But I made him agree to separate bedrooms in his suite. There was no hanky panky whatsoever.”

“Looked like at least some panky, from what they showed on TV…”

“No, Chuck. Well, when a really cute guy smacks you on the lips every chance he gets—”

“I wouldn’t know from ‘really cute guys,’ Evie.”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, the takeaway from all of this is…there’s no engagement, no upcoming nuptials, not even a relationship. He hired me to act in a music video. That’s it.”

Chuck remained silent.

“You believe me, don’t you?”

“Is it important to you what I believe?”

“Of course, you’re my best friend in Los Angeles. And I work for you—”

“Not anymore.”

“What?”

“I quit this morning. Came into the office and cleaned out my office. Called Clark and Misty and told them I resigned, effective immediately. Well, that’s my news.”

“Why, Chuck, why? Where does that leave me? You hired me in the first place. Who’s going to keep the wolf at the door. And by wolf, I mean Clark Ruskin.”

“You gave notice already. Remember? I accepted your resignation. You’re an actress now, right?”

“Chuck! I’m on strike! I can’t work in the industry until this thing is settled. And that might be months and months from now. I need the job!”

“You just shot a music video in Europe. Juan told me you cleared over $13,000 after agency fees and taxes.”

“That was a one-off because Trent’s a publicity hound and a horndog all in one. Who’s going to hire me with no prior acting credits if GlobalNet cancels the show before it even starts shooting? I can’t survive in LA on that and the two months salary from Sisters Sportswear!”

“What about your advance from GlobalNet for the series?”

“They suspended all payments until the strike’s resolved. I never got it, Chuck!”

“Don’t get hysterical, Evie! We’ll think of something.”

“And then there’s the medical bills for my transition—”

“I told you I’d pay them for you—”

“No, Chuck, it’s something I need to do myself, for myself…”

“I can’t see myself working there without you, Chuck. Clark is plotting my seduction. He bought me a sports car for goodness’ sake! He’ll throw me overboard his yacht when he finds out the truth about me.”

I was sitting on Chuck’s cushy, cream-colored sofa in his Corona Del Mar house, stood a hundred yards from the beach. He had listened attentively to my whining without comment. Then, abruptly, he simply got up from the sofa and walked away, toward the kitchen. I was afraid he was weary of my plaintive monologue. But I looked up to see him carrying two cans of Decaf Green Tea, offering me one as he sat back down.

“Thanks, Chuck. I’m still on Paris time so it’s like 11 in the morning for me. Too early for wine or any kind of alcohol. I’m sorry. You should drink what you want. Don’t deprive yourself because of me—”

He tried to stifle a yawn, but I could tell he was very tired.

“I’m gonna flake out any minute. The sofa’s fine for me. You can take my bed.” I gave him a dubious look. “I changed the sheets this morning.”

“I’m not sleepy, Chuck. I’ll just sit here in total darkness until I lose consciousness due to sensory deprivation. You go to bed. Go ahead. I’m fine.”

“We haven’t finished discussing your situation, Evie. Now, just listen to me. You should go back to the office and act like nothing’s changed. Clark’s too busy with the impending NFL season to plot your seduction…at least until the team goes on its first losing streak. Misty’s a fan of yours. In fact, everybody loves you.”

“Except Mei Ling—”

“Now that I’ve quit, she’ll have no reason to plot against you. After all, the last thing you want is to be Clark’s side-chick.”

“But what are you going to do now, Chuck? I guess you don’t need to work—”

“I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do all along. Be a sports agent. I got my law degree mostly so I could learn all about contract law.”

“On your own?”

“I used my contacts at CAA and if I can bring in a good starter list of clients, they’re open to adding me to their sports department. I’ve already got one NBA client.”

“Who?”

“Eliot Bradshaw. The Lakers just traded him to the Knicks and I’m negotiating his contract extension with New York. Eliot’s an old friend. We played together on a couple of U.S. amateur squads when I was at UCLA, and he was at Columbia. We made it to the quarterfinals at The World Cup after our Junior year. That’s how I got your referral to Dr. Petry. They’re close friends.”

“That was quick.”

“I’ve been thinking about leaving Sisters for a while. In fact, your coming on board was the sole reason I stayed. Of course, I had no idea this would all happen—”

“Sorry, Chuck. It’s all Debbie’s fault. No, that’s not true…”

“It’s no one’s fault, Evie. Most certainly not yours.” He yawned again. This time he didn’t bother trying to stifle it. “I need some shuteye. I’ve got to drive you to the office in the morning and then I’ve got an 11AM flight to JFK to start negotiations for Eliot with The Knicks. Hopefully, I’ll be back in a couple of days. Why don’t you head off to bed?”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa, Chuck. You know, I fall asleep pretty quickly to music. Like soft, low volume pop stuff. It’s got to have a bit of a beat though.”

“I have just the playlist for that on Spotify. Give me a few seconds and I’ll set it up.” I sat on the sofa, thinking it was an impossible task for me to actually fall asleep at, for me, midday. But the music started emanating from Chuck’s high-end bookshelf speakers.

“This is perfect, Chuck. It’s almost danceable.” I laughed. “Just leave the remote and I’ll turn it off when my eyelids start to droop.”

Chuck held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

“I can’t dance.”

“You’re an athlete. I’m sure you’re coordinated enough to get the hang of it after a few steps.”

“Okay but just watch your toes.”

We slow-danced. It took a few bars into the song, but we went from arms-length to cheek to cheek. He smelled freshly showered. I was hoping that I didn’t smell like the interior of a Boeing 777. We locked our eyes and exchanged warm smiles. Suddenly, he leaned down and softly kissed my lips. A kiss that intensified as our bodies molded into each other. We had stopped dancing. Just standing in one place, intertwined arms and hungry lips, our hearts beating in unison.

By the time the next song on Chuck’s playlist started, we had fallen onto the sofa, and a universal force greater than gravity placed me on top of Chuck, my tongue exploring the inner sanctum of his mouth. His strong hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me down into the well of his soul. My whimpers and sighs harmonized with Chuck’s ecstatic grunts. Neither of us knew what was playing over the speakers only ten feet from us.

Chuck started pulling at my clothes, trying to touch parts that didn’t exist on my body. But lust has a way of disputing all logic. When he tried to unbutton my jeans, my brain instantly defogged. As I tried to disentangle myself from his embrace, my hand unintentionally brushed against the front of his pants. He was in a state of extremis.

“No, Chuck, we can’t. I’m…I’m not ready for that.”

“I want you, Evie.” He looked like a little boy whose little red Radio Flyer wagon had just lost its rear wheels. My heart really melted for him at that moment, and I decided to lend a hand to his problem. Unzipping his pants, I took hold of the situation.

“Did you do this for Trent?” I stopped my ministrations.

“Of course not. I’m not some cheap whore. How could you think that, Chuck?”

“Don’t stop. For god’s sake, Evie. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Half an hour later, after Chuck had gone off to bed and I had cleaned up the mess on the sofa, I was still listening to Chuck’s Spotify playlist, drifting into unconsciousness in his darkened living room. I pressed the remote and killed the music. With a heavy sigh, I shut my eyes and counted sheep. I think it took thirty-odd bleating sheep before the curtain finally fell.

---

We got off to a late start on Tuesday morning. Chuck and I both slept through our alarms and didn’t hit the road until almost 8AM, partly due to the full breakfast my host prepared: eggs and bacon, wholegrain toast with avocado mash, orange juice and coffee.

Remarkably, Chuck did not get stopped for speeding as he drove like Grand Prix champion Lewis Hamilton through the early morning haze descending upon Orange and Los Angeles counties. We arrived at the Sisters Sportswear office building in a record-time hour and a half. Since it would take another 45 minutes to an hour to reach LAX, there was only time enough for two quick kisses before Chuck dropped me off in front of the building.

As I rushed through the turnstiles, Javier, one of the security guards, tipped his cap to me.

“Welcome back, Ms. Rivers. We missed you all week last week.”

“Thanks, Javier. It’s good to be back!” I ran into the open elevator cab and only noticed my sister Debbie standing behind me after the doors closed.

“Well, hello stranger. I assume you were too busy last night to call and tell me not to wait up for you at the apartment—”

“Sorry, Debbie. I didn’t think you’d be waiting for me. I thought that’s why you sent Chuck to pick me up.”

“Oh, that was Chuck’s idea. Otis and I planned to pick you up all along but when I told him when your flight was landing, he insisted on doing it himself. Speaking of which, did he tell you why he up and quit suddenly? Caught everyone by surprise. Especially Misty. Guess what, Buzz is your new boss now—”

“It’s no secret. Chuck’s been planning to leave for a while. He’s getting into sports representation. Got the inside track with CAA.”

“Enough about him. What’s the deal with Trent? Don’t hold out on your own sister—”

The elevator doors opened onto the Sisters floor.

“There’s nothing to it. It’s just his idea of impression management. Fake relationship with a fake girlfriend so his public image improves. I’m through with him—”

“Yeah, he doesn’t deserve you. Maybe he’ll go back to that Bambi bitch.”

Mei Ling appeared in front of us as if from a puff of smoke.

“Evie, welcome back. Misty wants to speak to you. She’s in your office, waiting.”

“Thanks, Mei Ling.” Turning to Debbie. “We’ll talk over lunch, sis.” Debbie walked toward her corner desk, and I strode with erect carriage to my office, waving to co-workers as I passed.

When I walked into my office, the smile on my lips faded quickly as I saw Misty jump up from behind my desk, an angry scowl across her pretty face.

“Come in, Evie. I’ve got a lot to say to you. Sit down.” I sat down and nervously waited as Misty approached my left side.

“As you know, my brother resigned yesterday, quite abruptly and without offering a satisfactory reason. I can only assume it’s because of you. Yes, you! You’ve done nothing but cause chaos in this company and my family since you started. You charm the pants off my brother and then reject him for some fuckin’ pop star who can’t keep it in his pants. You set your sights on my husband and have him fall under a spell. I mean, how did you get him to buy you a frickin’ sports car? With company money, no less. My sister and I technically gifted you an $80,000 car. On top of trying to destroy my marriage and my family, you’re only here half the time. You’re in Seattle or Berlin or Paris or on some movie soundstage. Next thing, you’ll be on a spaceship to Mars! Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Misty, nothing you just said is true. I never—”

“Oh, so you’re accusing me of lying? Making this all up? Here’s a true fact for you. You’re fired! Pack up your things and leave the premises immediately.” She walked quickly to the doorway, didn’t look back, and shook her head as she stepped through.

Debbie rushed in as I sat stunned by the rapidity of what just occurred.

“Misty fired you?”

“That’s about the gist of it.”

“She can’t do that without cause. I’m in HR, I deal with these issues all the time. File a complaint, Evie.”

“No use, Debbie. If I pursued the matter, you know what they’d find out in discovery. Then the tables would be turned. Not only would I get in trouble but so would you.” I sighed. “I’m on a streak, sis. Can’t win for losing.”

“Oh, Evie. It’s all my fault.”

“What’s done is done and I’m definitely done here. Help me pack up. And give me the keys to the car. You can get Otis to drive you home.”

“I wonder why she’s letting you keep the car.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll get Clark to pay for it. In more ways than one.”

I drove around Los Angeles aimlessly for an hour or two. Ironically, my itinerary resembled the tooling around Debbie and I had done the first week Clark unexpectedly gifted me the car. My eyes welled with tears, and I had to use my shirtsleeve to wipe them away. Around noon, I found myself on Sunset Boulevard in the proximity of Children’s Hospital and I was reminded that I hadn’t called to make an appointment to see the therapist to whom Dr. Joey had referred me. My concern before this was when to schedule it, given my work commitments and hours. Well, that wasn’t a concern anymore.

Hungry and thirsty, I reluctantly decided to pick up a Whopper and fries combo from the nearby Burger King. The same one I had “discovered” Hanna Van Gogh in. I assumed I’d drive back to my apartment and eat my lunch there. Afterwards, I’d have to seriously begin planning my post-Sisters Sportswear life. As I sat in my car waiting for my food, a familiar face appeared behind the driver’s side window.

“Nice wheels. Funny meeting you here after you’ve seen Paree.” It was Hanna, dressed more appropriately for her age than when we first met.

“Hey, Hanna. Come around the other side and get in.” She scooted around the car and slid into the passenger seat, carrying her bag of Burger King victuals.

“So, what you up to, girl?”

“Very little, Hanna. I just got fired from my real job.”

“I’m sure Trent will help you out. I saw that show Sunday night. A family of four could live on what he spent on your designer clothes for a good three months.”

“There’s nothing between Trent and me. It’s just a show for his fans. He wants them to think he’s not a playboy anymore.”

“Well, at least you got a weekend in Paris and some new threads out of it. Say, where are you planning to eat your lunch? I live a few blocks from here, north of Hollywood Boulevard. My place is kind of small but cozy. We can share war stories.”

As I helped Hanna set up her folding table, I looked around at her 400-square-foot apartment. It was tiny but neatly kept and homey. For a person living alone, it wasn’t that bad. Sitting in one of her red lacquer folding chairs, enjoying our Burger King feast, I recalled the summer lunches Debbie and I would have at Mom’s best friend’s house when we were 9 and 6 respectively. The difference being those lunches were on picnic tables in Mrs. Willets’ backyard. And the Willets’ cocker spaniel Freddie always got a potato chip or two or three from me and Debbie, unbeknownst to Mrs. Willets.

“Show business can be a real bitch, Evie. Sorry to hear about your situation. But don’t give up. Look at me. Acting is all I’ve ever wanted to do. I’ll be playing doddering old grandmas when I’m a doddering old grandma myself—"

“You have kids?”
“My daughter lives in Sacramento with her husband. He’s a dentist. Right now, she works with him as his assistant, but she wants to start a family soon. I’m looking forward to being a grandma. You will someday too, I’m sure.”

“I don’t think so, Hanna.”

“Don’t want children or can’t have them?”

I hesitated for a pregnant moment but then decided there was nothing to hide now.

“I’m not able to have children, Hanna. I’m transgender—”

“No, really? You were a boy once?”

“I was nominally a boy until three months ago. But I guess I’ve always really been a girl in here,” pointing to my head, “and here.” I patted my padded bra. “It just took this wild idea of my sister’s to throw the switch.”

“So…may I ask? You still have your boy parts?”

“Yeah, I haven’t even started my HRT yet but I’m seeing a therapist very soon and, if everything goes well, I could have gender affirmation surgery within a year. But, getting the money together for it is going to be tough…”

“Maybe when the strike is over…”

“There aren’t many roles for trans girls who haven’t transitioned yet.”

“Well, nobody knows. You’re on national TV, portrayed as a cis woman who’s got Trent Foster wrapped around your little finger. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I really like you, Evie. And you did me a solid, getting me the gig on that music video.”

“I wish I could share your optimism, Hanna. And the irony of it all is I’ve never dreamed of being in show business. Three months ago, I would’ve called you crazy if you told me I’d be promoted in the media as an ‘ingenue’.”

“What is it that you really want to do? What is it you really enjoy doing?”

“I’ve always loved baseball.” Hanna burst out laughing. “No, really. I pitched in college, and I was a minor league coach for The Titans just last year.”

“Evie, you’re unbelievable. You’re tall but you’re a mere slip of a girl. How could you play a sport like baseball? You’re shitting me.”

“Well, I guess I wasn’t that good at it. My fastball was about the speed of most pitchers’ changeups. That’s why I turned to coaching. But, Hanna, being on a ball field was when I felt most alive. Like my life had some purpose.”

“Then go back to baseball, your first love.”

“I tried. That’s how I ended up in LA. I thought the Dodgers were going to hire me, but Debbie got me this marketing job with Sisters Sportswear. I have an MBA that I’d never used.”

“Go for it again. I’ll bet you the Dodgers would love to hire the first female coach in the big leagues.”

“Maybe. But not the first transwoman—”

“You’ll never know until you try. My daughter always wanted to be a veterinarian. She’s a dental assistant by default, I guess. Don’t give up on your dream like she did.”

“Want the rest of my fries, Hanna?”

---

After lunch at Hanna’s, I found myself driving past my apartment building in Alhambra. I wasn’t even fully conscious of where I was heading. Driving east, past El Monte, Covina, San Dimas, Pomona, and into San Bernadino County. Ultimately, 45 minutes after I left Alhambra in my rearview mirror, I parked in front of the bungalow offices of The Rancho Cucamonga Quakes. I hadn’t called ahead but I was certain Ray Crawford would be sitting behind his desk, probably reviewing game video from the previous series with their opponent tonight, The Lake Elsinore Storm.

Ray’s assistant ushered me into his office. There was no need to announce me. Ray jumped up from behind his desk and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly.

“Evie! Good to see you again.”

“Ooof! I forgot you played football on the Junior Varsity.”

“I was all-county at linebacker in high school. Washed out in college though. Eh, I liked baseball better anyway.” He held me at arm’s length and smiled broadly. “I guess I need to congratulate you on your impending wedding to Trent. He’s not worthy.”

“I keep telling everyone none of that is true. I’m not marrying Trent! I was in Europe shooting his new music video. It was a job. Plain and simple.”

“You’re kidding, Evie. You were lip locking with that dude a lot as far as I could see—”

“Ray, you know I could never fall for a guy like him. He’s a phony, through and through.”

“So, are you saying there’s a chance?”

“Ray, we were best buds in school, but I don’t think of you that way—”

“Friend zone, huh? I’m destroyed, Evie.”

“Ray!” I hugged him. “Please don’t! It’s just…well, we knew each other as guys back then. I don’t think I can handle you seeing me as a woman—”

“But that’s what you are…to me. Always. I knew, Evie. I knew!”

“How could you, when I didn’t even know. Let’s stay best friends, Ray. I don’t want to hurt you by promising something I can’t deliver—”

He let go of my arms and hung his head down for a moment, before lifting his eyes to meet mine. He seemed to be searching my soul for the truth. Finally, he spoke.

“I can accept that. I have to accept it. Now, you came here for a reason. What can I do you for?”

We sat down and I went through the whole mish-mosh of the past week, ending with my dismissal from Sisters Sportswear that morning. I admitted to Ray that I didn’t really know how I decided to drive to Rancho Cucamonga. It was an irresistible impulse.

“Would it be possible for you to let me suit up and maybe pitch batting practice? I need to feel the sod under my cleats, the smell of well-manicured grass wafting in the air, even the beads of sweat falling off the brim of my cap—”

Ray took my arm and walked to the door of his office with me.

“The team takes afternoon BP in about half an hour. We’ll see if we can find you a uniform and cleats. I don’t know if we have anything in your size. You’re going to look like those old-timers from the ‘30s in those ballooning flannels.”

“It’s alright, Ray. Just being out there throwing to batters is the important thing. I’d even do it wearing a bikini if I had to—”

“Damn it! I knew I should have requisitioned those string bikinis for the team.”

It was glorious. I threw batting practice to these kids, all of whom were just a year or two younger than I was. 15 batters each had six swings per round. That added up to 90 pitches for me as one of their coaches took over after the first round. The whole point of throwing batting practice is to give the batters something they can make contact with. I’m not trying to strike them out. So, my 83 miles-per-hour fastball was the perfect fodder for them. Normally, a pitcher wouldn’t feel good about a batter hitting home runs off them but let’s just say, I left a lot of baseballs in the outfield stands for the stadium crew to collect.

I marveled at the thought that it was only 5 months ago that I had last thrown batting practice to professional baseball players. It seemed like memories from another life. As I toweled off in the dugout after my round of BP, sitting next to Ray, who had emerged from his office halfway through my stint on the mound, a vision of my future started to crystallize.

“Maybe Hanna was right. I shouldn’t give up my dream just because someone thinks I could be an actress on some smarmy soap opera.”

“I just got off the phone with the Dodgers’ front office. You know, we send some of our minor leaguers to the Arizona Fall League for a six-week season starting in October. As part of our agreement with MLB, we have to provide coaches for the teams as well. How would you like to be one of the coaches we send to Arizona? The front office gave me approval.”

“Wow, Ray, that’s…that’s a lifesaver. Of course, I’ll go. But what do I do from now until October?”

“Our season here goes through September. All the way through to September 30th if we make it to the championship series. I can add you to our coaching staff…today. We alternate weeks home and road games, so you’d only be working part-time but it’ll give you some income and time to do other things as well.”

I shook Ray’s hand enthusiastically. He kissed me on the cheek. I wagged my finger at him.

“Show up tomorrow at 2:30 and I’ll formally introduce you to everyone. We’ll get the clubhouse guys to make some alterations to your uniform—”

“And I should put my hair up in a ponytail.”

“Maybe go light on the makeup too.”

I slapped Ray on the shoulder as we walked out of the stadium back to his bungalow office. He said I could take a shower in his en suite bathroom.

“I need a shower myself. It’s pretty humid out there today.”

“No, you don’t, Ray. We can’t take showers together anymore.”

“But we’re on the same team again…”

After I confirmed my Thursday morning appointment with Dr. Francine Zhao, the therapist Dr. Petry had referred me to, I texted Chuck to give me a voice call in return whenever he got settled in his New York hotel room. There was so much to tell him!

There was an hour before Debbie and Otis would be home. I’m sure, despite my getting fired earlier today, they’d want to hear all about my week in Europe. We’d probably go out to our favorite neighborhood restaurant, Chef G on 4th Street, where Debbie would always order the Pad Thai and Otis would order the Crying Tiger (otherwise known as a ribeye steak). Having to watch my girlish figure, I would barely satiate my hunger with the Papaya Salad.

Thinking about what had transpired between Chuck and me last night, I wanted to listen to his Spotify playlist again. The music spurred my heightened sense of being, feeling Chuck’s arms wrapped around me, our intense, soul-melting kisses, the carnal need in his eyes. I blushed even though I was alone. My lips parted and almost cried out Chuck’s name. That was when my phone rang. Caller ID apprised me that it was from Eloise Foster, Trent’s mom.

“Hello, Mrs. Foster. Nice to hear from you. To what do I owe this pleasant phone call?”

“Oh, Evie! I just happened to be doing some window shopping in Palisades Village. You know, they have the most wonderful little boutiques and shops and it’s not like those nondescript malls that you see…anyway, I happened to come upon Bridal Dress Alterations, a lovely shop with the most beautiful wedding gowns. You can look them up on the internet. 5-star reviews! There was this one lacey thing that would look so angelic on you, dear. The décolletage is a little revealing but, overall, it’s very classy. I’m sure Trent would approve…”

I dropped the phone onto the couch.