Control

12

I found my new routine quickly after moving out on my own. Trey‟s dad had helped me find a small one bedroom apartment in New Haven. I joined a local gym, which thankfully had a pool, allowing me to keep up some kind of physical activity, despite my extremely long work weeks that more often than not extended into the weekend. I quickly made friends with others in my office, giving me a new group of people to hang out with outside of work, as well as a support system within the office itself.

By the end of my second year at the firm, I had successfully worked my way up the corporate ladder to become an account executive with the corporate division of the company. I was still on one of the lower rungs of the ladder, but my supervisors had said on many occasions they were impressed with my work and promised future advancement if I continued at this rate.

As the heat of summer approached, the firm was throwing their annual Charity softball tournament for their clients in support of the local hospital, which again was a client.

On a hot Sunday afternoon at the end of August, I found myself surrounded by my colleagues and clients as we attempted to play a friendly game of softball. However, when you gather together a varied group of successful corporate individuals, keeping things friendly and non-competitive is virtually impossible. Several clusters of people already had bets going.

As if a bunch of corporate stiffs trying to play sports wasn‟t interesting enough.

We had divided up players from our office, as well as players from a variety of our clientele, into two teams. None of us were very good, but it was mainly for fun, so no one seemed to care too much. Except those involved in the various side wagers.

I had spent most of the day on the field, either in the infield or batting. Softball was one of the few team sports I wasn‟t horrible at, possibly from years of watching it on TV with my dad or playing in the backyard with Kevin.

I sat flanked by my colleagues Josh, Ryder and Claire, each of us only partially watching the game unfold. We had all started at the firm at the same time, and formed a support system through that commonality.

"Go get me a hot dog." Josh called across me to Ryder as we sat on the bleachers, watching the other team at bat.

"Excuse me?" she said, affronted. "What do I look like, your fucking maid?"

"I‟m not sure. Go put on a little French maid outfit and we‟ll see." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. This just caused her to shake her head and turn her attention back to the game.

Ryder and Josh had established a love/hate relationship from the moment we started working together. Josh, a self described lady‟s man, had immediately taken a liking to Ryder, flirting incessantly with her. Ryder, however, repeatedly reminded Josh was she didn‟t date within her workplace, and that he would be better to realize that „dipping his pen in the company ink „would turn around to bite him in the ass.‟ This of course returned a comment from Josh that he wouldn‟t mind if she bit his ass, causing her to slap him and walk away.

Josh was moderate in height and build, with brown hair and brown eyes. He was the quintessential average Joe, but what he lacked in looks, he more than made up for in personality.

Ryder, however, was anything but average. She was tall, blonde, with green eyes and a large chest. She had quickly become the fantasy of almost every guy in the office.

Claire, a short, round girl with red hair, concluded our little group of interns. She was quiet and sweet and a very hard worker, a person you could always turn to when in a crunch.

It was there, blocking out the bickering between Josh and Ryder, I first saw her. She was preparing to bat next, standing casually to the side of the mound farthest from me. She held the bat at her side, her other hand at her forehead, blocking the sun as she watched the man before her swing his second strike.