Page 7 of Playing for Keeps

There’s a knock at the hotel door, and Brian stands up to open it, revealing a pair of suited women wielding laptops. One appears to be East Asian, angry, and in charge, while the other has dark olive skin, deeply furrowed brows, and a couple of pencils tucked into her bun. The women nod briefly before placing their things on the hotel table, casting glances at me until I vacate the chair. Emerson follows suit, sitting beside me on the pull-out couch as Brian engages in conversation with his “cleanup crew.”

“Okay,” says Brian a few minutes later, rubbing his palms together. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

He gestures toward one of the women—the angry one—who nods and says, “It was love at first sight. Devastatingly romantic.” Her voice is utterly flat as she explains how Emerson and I knew we were destined for one another immediately.

“Like a movie. Very exciting,” her companion asserts, equally without enthusiasm. “Look at them gazing at one another. They’re insatiable.” Brian squints over her shoulder at some images on a screen–a series of social media posts with hashtags and everything.

“Gunnerson?” I look up at Brian, confused. He shrugs.

The fixers nod. “We’ve decided that’s your ship name. We’ve generated these images based on the ones already online, adjusting to bump up the palpable sexual tension between you.”

My heart skips a few beats at this spy crap. The fixers have somehow created pages and pages of comments and reactions to news of my whirlwind romance. “Holy shit, Brian. How are you doing all this?” He waves a hand at me and then snaps his attention back to his crew.

“Right.” The pencil-bun woman frowns and looks at her screen. “Emerson flew out here on a whim to audition for a new job at the Velvet Mirage when she met this guy. A romantic evening ensued, and likeLady and the Tramp,they fell ass over tits for each other.”

The bossier fixer hums. “Emerson is obviously moving to Pittsburgh with her husband. She will be center ice at the Fury season opener and be at Gunnar’s side for the children’s hospital fundraising gala, perhaps volunteering to perform. This is to be discussed.” She snaps her laptop closed and stands.

Brian sighs in relief and leans against the wall by the door. “This is why I pay top dollar for good people,” he tells the room at large. Then, he turns to me and points a thick finger in my direction. “We’re pivoting the strategy. Keep the kids, adopt the puppies this time. You are now a FAMILY MAN instead of a chick magnet. You are devastatingly romantic. You shower your wife with gifts and gestures. Get your act together, make arrangements to relocate your bride, and you’d better call your parents before they hear about this online and get insulted.” Brian hesitates, chews his gum, and points at Emerson. “Your parents will probably freak out, too.”

“They will,” she says, but doesn’t add anything further. She stares at her cello with an expression I don’t know how to classify.

I’m probably supposed to be upset by the things Brian and his team are saying right now, but it doesn’t feel like much of a lie to promise to act hot for Emerson Saltzer. But of course, we’re strangers. It’s not like she’s going to run back to my house with me and become my instant soul-mate. Without the encouragement of those blue neon drinks, things will probably feel awkward as hell. But we’ll have to smile and ignore all that, I guess.

Brian and his crew leave the room in a cloud of mint gum fumes and antacid dust.

Emerson licks her lips and stands, refilling her water glass and chugging it down before turning to me. “Sooo, this is a lot.”

I puff out a laugh. “Yes. Yes, it is.” I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and rub my temples. My head is starting to feel better, but now I’m hungry and I have to try explaining this situation to my parents, which is pretty much the only thing worse than sucking at my job on an international stage.

Emerson’s stomach growls, and I glance at her. “Let’s order room service and make a plan.”

She starts to protest and rummage around for her wallet. I sigh and grab the room phone, ordering a bunch of salads and sandwiches. I don’t know what she eats, but I’m in season and have food rules. See, I’m thinking before I act…sort of. She presses her lips together, sitting opposite me at the small hotel table.

“Okay, so I have to fly back to Pittsburgh. I’m already going to get in trouble with the team for missing the flight.” I look around. “This isn’t even my hotel room. I have to find all my shit. Did I book this room for you?” She shrugs. “Well, you can stay as long as you want.” I fish in my wallet and pull out my credit card. My signing bonus didn’t quite get me the black card, butI’ve got a credit limit that is high enough to get her to Pittsburgh in comfort. “Take this. I’ll write down my address. Our address, I guess…you can?—”

“I don’t need your money, and I don’t need you to tell me what to do, okay? I’m here to get away from a man who uses his money and status to bully me into doing what he wants me to do.” Emerson balls her hands into fists, and I want to rush over to her, wrap my arms around her, and apologize. This is the awkward part, happening already.

“I’m really sorry. That all came out wrong.” I take a deep breath, and there’s a knock at the door. I hold up a finger, greet the room service staff, and grab the tray from them, tossing a handful of bills into the person’s hand before I set everything on the table.

I gesture for Emerson to choose and smile when she grabs a chicken sandwich and dives right in. I’ve always wanted to hang out with a woman who likes to eat as much as I do. I grab the turkey-BLT and eat half before admitting, “I’ve never done anything like this.”

She laughs. “What? Got drunk and married? Me neither.”

I tilt my head in acknowledgement. “Are you okay coming to Pittsburgh for a little while and rolling with Brian’s plan? I can compensate you for your time.”

She licks those lips again and moves to the sofa, tucking her thick legs under her and facing me. “Considering I just blew up my own life, I have nowhere to live and no job…yeah, Gunnar. I’ll try this out for a bit. Honestly, it’s a good idea to put physical distance between my parents and me anyway.”

Relief washes over me, but it’s short-lived because I still have to call my parents. Then she adds, “And I won’t be taking your money.”

I try not to growl. I want her to let me take care of her, but apparently, I can’t force her to accept anything. I’m not sure whyI feel so protective. “We can talk more about that later.” I cram half a salad into my face and wash it down with more water. “I mentioned you’d have your own room, right? And your own bathroom. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to seduce you or something.” Her expression falls. “Shit. I didn’t mean I don’twantto seduce you. You’re hot as hell, and I’d be–”

Emerson clears her throat. “Seduction isn’t necessary.”

I arch a brow, suddenly super turned on. “You don’t want to be seduced?”

She laughs. “I think I can manage.” I am going to have to follow up with her about that later, too. After waking up with all that boobage in my hand, I’m really hoping she’s at least interested in fooling around once she knows me a little better. But maybe that’s just the hangover brain talking.

Emerson and I make a plan for her to fly to Pittsburgh. I remind her several times that the fixers said I’m supposed to shower her with gifts. She lets me buy her ticket—and one for her cello to ride next to her. And then she leaves the room, promising to message me as soon as she lands. This gives me just enough time to call my parents before I get myself situated.

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