The Perfect Season

Mia took her head out of her hands. Tears were now streaming down her face as well. "Cass, I think I need the time." Mia did need the time. She simply could not come to grips with the fact that she might be in love with a woman.

Cass made numerous attempts during the summer to revive her relationship with Mia, all without success, as Mia struggled with the idea that she was either bisexual or a lesbian. Heartbroken, Cass took a job in New York and eventually found a lasting relationship with Jennifer, a fitness instructor. She of course never forgot her first love.

Mia hungered for a "normal" life, and wanted to see if she was attracted to men, and just hadn't given the opposite sex a fair chance. That chance would soon arrive, and not in the way she expected.

Chapter Three

Mia and Skeet

Mia soon became the "face" of the team and made a number of off diamond appearances on behalf of the team. Her good looks and supreme air of self-confidence often had her anchoring presentations to boosters and community groups. One such presentation occurred one Sunday afternoon in the winter, right before the start of the season. Three of the women's athletic programs were asked to each make a ten minute presentation to a single booster, but the biggest booster by far. Of course that person was Skeet. Mia was to lead off the presentation, followed by women representing the lacrosse and basketball programs. It was one of the few occasions that Mia wore something nicer than jeans.

Skeet Thornhill commanded his own show. As a successful entrepreneur he had already made the cornerstone contribution for a new women's athletic center, to the tune of $10 million. He was even more generous to the men's football program and wanted to give more on the women's side to balance the scales. Hence, the private presentations.

The presentations would occur in the chambers of the University's Board of Directors. The chamber room itself was richly appointed, dark in tones and lighting, a venue befitting Mr. Thornhill's assumed level of comfort. There was a palpable buzz in the anteroom to the Board's chambers as the three women on the presentation team were making last minute adjustments to their pitches. Precisely at 10 a.m., Mr. Thornhill's personal assistant, a Ms. Megan Camp, entered the anteroom and closed the door behind her. Ms. Camp looked to Mia as a pleasant person, plain in appearance. Megan announced to the gathering, "I'm Ms. Camp. Mr. Thornhill has a busy schedule today. This meeting will have to end precisely at 10:30 a.m. He is scheduled to meet with the University's Board of Directors and I won't have him late for that. Is that understood?" Her face became stern.

"Yes, Ms. Camp," the group recited in a tone reminiscent of third grade.

"Very well, Mr. Thornhill will see you now."

Even though Mia was up first, she was caught off guard by the abrupt announcement. She gave Ms. Camp a "deer in the headlights" look. Ms. Camp recognized that look and took Mia by the hand and led her in carefully, allowing Mia to walk comfortably in her high heels. Skeet was sitting in an oversized stressed leather armchair, the kind you would see in Restoration Hardware, with his legs extended out, showing the tops of his hand-tooled cowboy boots. He was wearing a UNC hat and a $5,000 suit.

Mia had faced down the meanest pitchers in the league. She had been involved in numerous home plate collisions. She had taken foul tips in places where a softball has no right to be. But a big, tall, handsome man, one that is the patron extraordinaire of the University, was a challenge Mia wasn't sure she could face.

Ms. Camp let go of Mia's arm and left the room, closing the door behind her. The young blonde and the older philanthropist were alone. There was a fire crackling in the stone fireplace. Mia looked at her watch - it was 10:02 - she had eight more minutes. She could have recited her last 30 at bats and every pitch she faced during each of those at bats but she had nary a fucking clue as to what to say to Mr. Thornhill. Her mind went absolutely blank. She couldn't believe it, but she had an irresistible urge to cry. Her head hanging low, a tear trickled down her cheek.

Skeet saw Ms. Camp lead in the most innocent and the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, and he had laid eyes on plenty. She looked like a doe being led in by its handler. So shy, demure, he thought, yet the captain of a championship woman's softball team. He saw a tear stream down her face. His heart melted.

"Come here, my dear. I don't bite," he said reassuredly.

"I ... I ... I don't know what's overcome me," she uttered in a halting manner.

He had no intention of taking advantage of her, yet he so wanted to help. He pulled up a chair and had her sit next to him.

"Tell me what you want for your programs."

Suddenly Mia found her voice. She explained what she needed for the women's softball team.

"Let me tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to tell them that your presentation convinced me to give $100,000 to each of your three programs. That'll do, won't it?"

Mia was stunned. She was only going to ask for $50,000 for each of the programs. "Of course, of course, that is more than generous."

"Good, that's settled. He glanced at his watch. "Now we have exactly 22 more minutes to enjoy each other's company. Tell me more about yourself."

Mia told him everything she could in that allotted 22 minutes. She talked about her family, her father, her brothers, her mother, her career in baseball and her aspirations for the future (which were fuzzy). He took 30 seconds and told her that he was a widower at the age of 35 and was 45 years old. Just as he was to tell her again how beautiful she was the door opened and Ms. Camp poked her head in. "10:29 Skeet. Gotta hit the road."

Skeet tipped an imaginary cap to Mia. "I'm going to find out where you live and park outside at precisely 7:00 p.m. If you want to continue your story, I'll take you someplace nice for dinner. I'll leave at 7:05 if you don't show up. No hard feelings. And I won't welch on my financial pledge." Ms. Camp pulled Skeet by the arm as he waved goodbye. The door shut and Mia was left in the room alone. She went into the anteroom. Her mates were waiting with her, anxious to hear what happened.

Josie, a boisterous redhead, tugged lightly on Mia's collar. "C'mon, tell us what happened. That prude Ms. Camp told us that Mr. Thornhill wanted to hear more from you and that we were to wait."

Six pairs of eyes were trained on Mia. "He promised to give $100,000 to each of our three programs."

The program director, Grace, interjected, "Each?"

Mia nodded her head, "Each."

The three women hugged Mia. Josie kissed Mia on the lips. "Good girl!" she exclaimed. But Josie wanted to do that for a long time, to feel Mia's soft lips, and she found the opportunity to do so. It was the second time Mia was kissed by a woman. She liked it. She liked it very much.

Chapter Four

Skeet

Skeet was your prototypical football lineman, big and brawny. He was all-state in high school and received a four year scholarship to UNC. He had a distinguished college career but was considered undersized for the pros. He focused his energy instead on funding start-up companies. He hit it big with a couple of deals in the Research Triangle and never forgot his roots, becoming the biggest donor to UNC's athletic department. His wife of 15 years died tragically of cancer. Skeet never remarried, and stayed busy, either consciously or unconsciously crowding out any possibility of a personal life.

He had met all types of eager women, young and old. He always harbored the suspicion that they were chasing his considerable fortune, and given his tight schedule and his suspicious nature, he ultimately dismissed all comers. He often used Ms. Camp to deliver the bad news on a break-up.

Then Sunday. A shy woman who didn't really know who he was and showed her vulnerable self, her soul, on their first contact. It was as if the last ten years hadn't happened and his wife was alive again. He was happy. He wanted to cradle this innocent creature in his arms and stroke her golden hair, to possess her. He knew that she was a bucking bronco underneath, which made seeing her soft underbelly make her appear that much more desirable to him.

He would drive himself to her home. Wait for her. Pray that she would show up. He finished up his meetings and returned to the house that he maintained on campus. He changed into his favorite pair of jeans and boots, a crisp dress shirt and a sport coat and walked into his three car garage. He decided to go classic. His red Ferrari. The 488 Spider. He slid into the finely burnished leather, the scent of it literally exuding money. He wanted to impress her. He did not want to leave anything to chance.

Chapter Five

Mia

She heard the roar from a block away. It was a noise she had never heard. It was the throaty growl of Skeet's Ferrari. She went onto her small balcony and watch him flawlessly parallel park his weapon in a recently vacated spot. She wondered if he paid someone to wait in that spot until he arrived. The top was down, and Mia could see the powder blue UNC hat on his head. It was 6:55 p.m. and she still hadn't made up her mind. She had virtually no experience with men and here was the single largest donor to her athletic department. He was rich and worldly - she had barely scraped the dirt off her shoes from her farm. She had Googled him. He had an estimated net worth of $280 million. He was reputed to be a workaholic since his wife died, their marriage not yielding any children. She saw images of him at various charity functions, often with an attractive younger woman on his arm. She noticed it was always a different woman.

She watched him sitting in his car. He didn't check his phone. He didn't read a document. He waited, patiently. Mia liked that. She liked the fact that he was singularly focused, and at that moment he was singularly focused on her. She decided. She would go to dinner with him. She raced to her closet and picked the outfit she had been saving for the annual boosters' banquet. It was a white jacket paired with a charcoal gray pencil skirt. She pulled the first bra and panty set she could find in her drawer (which turned out to be a thong) and slipped her new suit out of its protective plastic bag. As she slipped on her black heels she looked at her profile in the $5 mirror mounted on her closet door. It was the same, long dishwater blonde hair and the same pixie grin, but the girl's body had given way to a woman's. Her breasts swelled outward, pressing the fabric of the silk blouse and filling in the ample darts in her jacket. Her bottom flared out just so, not the result of hours in the gym, but rather from hours squatting behind the plate. She knew she looked good, but she had no idea that she looked sensational. She put on a modicum of make-up and, holding her heels in her hand, raced down three flights of stairs, leaving her building at 7:04 and arriving at the side of his car at 7:05. He motioned her to get in, it taking a moment for her to find the recessed handle in the door.

She had never seen a Ferrari, let alone sit in one. The rich, pungent smell of the leather seats, the exquisite prancing horse logo on the floor mats and the sexy, low pitched growl of its eight cylinder engine overwhelmed her. Skeet eased the car out of its parking spot, looking over at Mia. "Ever been in a Ferrari, honey?"

"No sir."

"Brace yourself."

He launched the car, hitting 60 before shifting into second. Mia's head snapped back as if a foul tip had careened off her catching mask. It took her breath away. She had never gone this fast this quickly. With the top down, the blinding speed gave Mia a rush of adrenaline. She loved the experience of pure, unadulterated, raw speed.

Skeet looked over at his young passenger. Her face was flush. If he didn't know any better he would have thought she had just had an orgasm. He eased off the accelerator. He wanted to show off but he didn't want to kill anybody. The little demonstration made its point - Skeet had access to any thrill you could imagine. Mia thought she was Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. The wizard could grant any wish, and Skeet apparently had that power as well.

He threaded through country traffic, finally reaching a road house with a "Closed" sign in its window. The older distinguished gentleman turned his car into the parking space next to the road house's entrance. He walked up the three steps to the restaurant's entrance. A light switched on. The face of an attractive older woman with short brown hair, wearing a housecoat, broke into a broad smile at seeing Skeet's face. She unlocked the door to the restaurant and held it open for the couple. As they entered the road house the woman held out her hand to Mia and introduced herself.

"I'm Helen Waterstone."

"Mia Beaumont."

Helen turned to Skeet while pointing to Mia. "She's a beauty."

"Helen, it's just dinner."

"Right," the older woman said as she shrugged her shoulders skeptically. She waved her hand and led them to the best table in the house. She produced two menus, which Skeet promptly put down without opening them.

"We're always open for Skeet." Helen walked over and tousled Skeet's hair affectionately.

"Usual?" Helen chirped as she walked by on the way to the kitchen.

"Yep," Skeet grunted.

"Why are they always open for you?" Mia asked. She was truly puzzled how Skeet could demand that much loyalty.

"Let me ask you a football question. Which position player is the most important to a quarterback?"

Mia answered quickly. "Left tackle."

"Because ..."

"That player protects a quarterback's blind side."

"Correct, my dear. I'm impressed."

"Please don't be. I had three brothers that played football and they made me play every position on the field while they were beating me up."

Skeet laughed. "When I was playing at UNC her son David was playing quarterback. I played left tackle. David was only sacked five times that season and made the all ACC team. She has been forever grateful for that magical season."

Helen brought out a bucket of beers. Skeet twisted the tops off of three of them and offered one to Mia and one to Helen as she returned to the kitchen. After the exhilarating ride she was ready for a drink and a cold beer was perfect for the situation. Mia completed her story of attending UNC on an academic scholarship and also being captain of the woman's softball team. When she finished with the story, Helen approached the table with a platter of steaming hot fried chicken. She returned with mashed potatoes and corn on the cob slathered in butter.

"Look," Skeet said as he held up a fried chicken wing, "This is the real deal. Hands down the best fried chicken I've ever had. I've been to a lot of fancy restaurants, and I hope I'll be able to take you to some, but I always come home to Helen's fried chicken." Skeet made up a plate and handed it to Mia. Suddenly she was hungry, and the fried chicken did look good. Skeet told his story, how he made friends with a number of people in college who turned out to be tech savvy, and turned their ideas into multinational companies. Skeet of course invested everything he had and could lay his hands on and purchased his shares in each enterprise for less than a dollar. Split adjusted, each share that he bought was worth over $1,000.

"You know," Skeet said as he grabbed the last piece of fried chicken on the platter, Mia having thrown in the towel, "It was just luck. I'm no smarter than the next guy but I was in the right place at the right time and I had the sense to put my money into my beliefs. I believed in these companies."

He looked at Mia with that same sense of certainty. "I'll be blunt. If you talk to anyone who knows me I'm direct and to the point." He paused for a moment to draw a breath. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I know you to be smart, occasionally funny, vulnerable and determined. I haven't had this feeling since I was married. When I'm with you I'm happy. I'm happy now."

Mia was flabbergasted. She knew it to be true. It was delivered with such sincerity that Mia knew that Skeet was smitten by her. But what was she to do? Sure, he was handsome but she didn't feel anything approaching excitement at the thought of making love with him. What was wrong with her?

As they wiped their fingers clean Skeet pulled out his wallet and slipped two one hundred dollar bills into Helen's hand.

"It was worth double what I'm giving you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you opening for me and meeting Mia."

"You're too generous." She turned to Mia. "Mia, you're a lovely person."

Mia blushed. "Thank you Mrs. Waterstone."

"Helen," she corrected with a smile.

The two left holding hands, Skeet floating on cloud nine and Mia trying to sort through her feelings.

Skeet raised the top for the drive home. The roar of the engine now seemed much tamer, much more seductive. Mia could see how one could be drawn to these works of art. As they approached her building a car miraculously pulled out, allowing Skeet to park comfortably right in front. He walked around to open the door for Mia. He held her hand as she pushed out of the low slung car, flashing her shapely leg as she bent her leg. Skeet felt a sudden tug in his trousers. Yes, she aroused him as well. She stood up straight on the sidewalk.

"It was a great evening. Thank you so much."

"I'd like to see you again ..."

Mia smiled. "I think I would too."

He approached her and leaned forward to kiss her. She wasn't sure what to do with her arms so she stood here as he gripped her shoulders lightly and brushed his lips against hers.

"Good night. You'll be hearing from Ms. Camp. She keeps my calendar. I really want to see you again."

Mia returned to her apartment, thrilled and confused.

Chapter Six

The Proposal

The relationship continued, Skeet visiting Mia each time he could find the time to escape the confines of his New York office. They never progressed past a good night kiss but that didn't deter Skeet. He always played the long game, and he knew that a prize like Mia was a prize worth fighting for. Against her better judgment, she accepted an internship in Skeet's New York office the summer after her sophomore year.

It was a month into her internship that she received Skeet's marriage proposal. As she gazed at the beautiful diamond in the crowded restaurant she was unable to compose a coherent thought. This was happening too fast. She wasn't sure whether she felt love for Skeet. Skeet could see the hesitation etched on her face.

"Look, you don't have to decide today. How about you sleep on it and we catch dinner tomorrow? I've got a big deal brewing but I think I can stay tomorrow night to see you."

"I ... I ... I don't know," Mia whispered. She was still overcome by a swirl of emotions.

"Just say that you'll have dinner with me tomorrow." She couldn't refuse those pleading eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Ms. Camp arranged the dinner, communicating via text with Mia.

That night was a difficult one for the young blonde. She tossed and turned in bed, going over in her mind what she would tell Skeet. She couldn't find the right thing to say, and so wanted to please him, but also to satisfy her gnawing doubts about their relationship. She finally fell asleep, waking in a tangle of twisted sheets.

The next day at the office went no better. Skeet was in his office with his door closed the entire day, participating in one meeting after another. She only caught glimpses of him as he entertained a steady stream of lawyers and consultants in his office. By day's end they hadn't exchanged a word. Mia's anxiety level increased as she went home to prepare for her date that night.