Page 21 of Sure Shot
Employee of the Month
Bess
I’d been expectingto shower alone, since that’s how I usually do it. I need a minute to process what’s happened and to put my game face back on.
But Tank follows me into the walk-in shower, whistling and gloriously naked. He turns a dial, and water begins to rain down from a luxury showerhead the size of a large pizza. Then Tank pulls me under the warm spray with him and kisses me again.
My game face is probably destroyed forever. Who could spend an evening under this man’s hard body, drinking down his kisses, and then manage to look rational afterward? Not me, that’s for sure.
I’ve been very reckless tonight. I’ve violated my cardinal rule—no sleeping with players. And the man is stillmarried—at least on paper. Nobody can ever know about this.
His hands are tender as he slides the soap up my back and kisses my neck. I know I’m just his rebound girl. Tonight is a fluke—a fantastical moment brought to us by luck and memories. We’re both feeling a little wistful and lost, right?
He pushes me up against the tile wall and sighs into my mouth. “You’re just what I needed tonight,” he whispers, as if reading my thoughts. “Happy Birthday.”
My heart swells. I kiss him back, because it would be a crime not to enjoy this while it lasts. This will be my last, brief trip into the strange world that Tank and I used to occasionally inhabit. Where bodies are made for pleasure, and no rules apply.
* * *
Two hours later I wake up with a start, my damp hair snarled against the pillow. Tank snores softly beside me. Outside, the sky is as dark as Brooklyn ever gets. The clock on the bedside table reads 1:18. Although hotel clocks are often wrong.
Panicked, I slide off the bed. Tank doesn’t stir from the place where he collapsed after doing me again in the shower. He’s thirty-two years old and has the sexual stamina of a college boy. How is that even fair?
I find my crumpled panties on the floor and pull them on. Then I shake out my dress and step into it, reaching around to zip it up as best I can. My body feels well used, in the best possible way, but I probably look like a disaster. Even worse—my brother is probably letting himself into my apartment right this second, wondering where I am.
I pick up my sandals and tiptoe into the living room, where I recover my clutch purse. My phone confirms that it’s twenty past one in the morning.
I’d received a text from Eric Bayer at 12:01.Happy Birthday! Am I the first to say it? What do I win?
He’s not the first, but I’m never admitting it.Thank you. You’re the employee of the month. Your wall plaque is forthcoming. Are you still at the bar?
The moment after I hit Send, I slip into my sandals and head out the door, closing it behind me as softly as possible.Goodnight, Tank. I feel a bit ridiculous doing the walk of shame in the wee hours of my thirtieth birthday. But here we are.
Eric replies while I’m in the elevator.Still here at the tavern! Winning at darts, because Heidi already went home.
Congrats, I reply.Is there any chance my brother is still with you?
Yeah. Dave said he was leaving, but he’s still talking to Beacon by the door. Want me to grab him?
No, I text back in a hurry.I was just checking on him. Night!
When the elevator doors part, I dart through the lobby, fly out the revolving doors, and stick my hand in the air. A taxi swerves and halts at the curb.Thank you, taxi gods.
I open the door and jump inside. “Two-twenty-seven Water Street,” I say to the driver. “There’s a ten buck tip in it for you if we get there inside of ten minutes.”
The tavern on Hicks Street—where the hockey players hang out—is between here and my apartment. But if Dave yammers with Beacon a few extra minutes, I can still beat him home. And it’s such nice weather that he may decide to walk.
My phone vibrates with a new text from Eric.Where are you, anyway?
Why?I reply, paranoid.
Just curious, he replies.It’s almost like you’re trying to beat your brother home.
Oh dear. I hired Eric because he has a sharp mind and great intuition. That feels like a mistake now.You can be Employee of the Month for the rest of the year if you just forget we had this conversation.
Awesome. Can’t wait to see this plaque.
I snort as the driver flies up Jay Street. Traffic is so light at this hour that I think I’m going to make it.
