Page 13 of Play Hard
I could hear shuffling around, then a car door slam that told me Sawyer had probably been talking to me while he drove home from the office. They all kept weird ass hours there, like the place couldn’t breathe without at least one of them in it at all times. But since Saylor and Segal were the newest associates on the roster, they would be the ones working the latest hours.
“I’ve already got somebody digging into his past. We’re gonna expose every skeleton in that dude’s closet. He’ll be the poster child for fuckups, while we work to get you out of theline of fire. I’ve already booked you a flight out first thing in the morning. You’ll come back home where we can keep the press away from you and make sure you don’t do anything else stupid.”
“Hold the fuck up,” I countered. “You can stop right there with all the plans I’m sure Daddy has approved. I’m not leaving Providence and as I told you before, but you’re too stubborn to accept,Ihavemysituation under control. I don’t need any help from you, Daddy, or the firm.”
Without waiting for him to say another word, I disconnected the call. Unfortunately, it was too late. He’d said what he’d said, each word piercing the careful shield I’d erected around my emotional stability until I thought I would shatter into pieces. My chest heaved as I sucked in gulps of air, hoping to keep myself from passing out. When that didn’t feel like it was working, I ran out onto the front porch. I’d already been on my way to the door anyway, so I didn’t have far to go.
Running, hiding, avoiding, none of those were my thing.Unless we share the same last name and I’m used to you bulldozing me every chance you got.
Once on the porch, I pulled in more air, this time with the scent of the water nearby and the freshly cut grass. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I leaned forward when my stomach roiled and threatened to relieve itself of everything I’d eaten earlier. My entire body shook as I fought back tears.
They always did this to me. Always made me feel like I wasn’t shit unless they gave me permission to be more. I could do nothing right in their eyes, and it had always been that way. When my mother was alive it had only been slightly better. While my father had a firm grip on his boys, my mother was in charge of molding me. Of teaching me how to be the perfect professional woman, socialite, and eventually wife and mother. Sandra Ward had mastered the art of having a prestigiouscareer where she specialized in women’s health and surgical procedures while balancing the position of adoring wife and doting mother. She could do no wrong, except for when it pertained to me.
I talked too much, argued too vehemently, had too many opinions, too many of my own goals and dreams. I didn’t know how to conform, how to be what I was bred to be. I wanted too much but didn’t know a damn thing about how to get or maintain it. I was helpless without them while at the same time beyond a thorn in their sides. They hated, as much as, loved me, I guess. And on most days, I simply despised them all.
When I heard Pop Pop calling to me, I couldn’t bear to face him. Didn’t want to see the outrage followed by pity that would surely cover his weathered, raisin-hued face. So, I ran to my car, got in and drove off. Destination, nowhere; urgency, high.
I ended up at the edge of town where I turned down a road that I had no idea where it would lead. I’d seen the mountains in the distance but wasn’t aware of how close I was to the base of one until I pulled the car to a stop by a grass pathway. After getting out of the car, I walked that path until the weight of it all finally collapsed over me and I dropped down to sit in the grass as the night grew darker. I sat there for hours crying, thinking, shaking, hoping.
It was late when I arrived back at the house and I fell into bed praying sleep would take me far away. It had, and I didn’t wake up until almost noon on Friday. I had an hour to shower, dress, and grab a cup of coffee before my video call with Zora. That had taken another chunk of energy out of me, and I stayed in my room staring out the window to the lake, or up at the ceiling for the remainder of the afternoon.
Now, it was nearing nine in the evening, and I was sitting in my car again. Not at the mountain base this time, but in the parking lot of the Game Changers Bar & Grill.
I’d pulled into the parking spot so I could see the place through my rearview mirror. From this side, the structure was cinderblocks that had been painted dark gray. Above the double glass doors was a sign with blue flashing lights over the words “Game Changers”. The front entrance faced Parks Drive and another sign—this one red and white—with various sports balls on it, boasted the name too. The side of the building that faced Selma Lane as well as the front were comprised of huge windows that opened onto the street where additional seating was located. Globe outdoor string lights hung from the wrought iron railings outside while patrons sat at wood-topped tables.
Rubbing my palms up and down my jean-clad thighs, I blew out yet another breath I’d deeply inhaled.
I could do this. I’d already told myself I could. And if I hadn’t gotten sidetracked last night I would have. I sighed because if there was one thing I learned a long time ago it was that you couldn’t undo the past. So, last night happened but tonight was a different time, a different opportunity to scratch another thing off my list. Before I could change my mind, I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and got out of the car. I slammed the door too hard and jumped at the loud sound in the otherwise quiet parking lot.
After dropping my keys into the black Prada crossbody, I stuck my arm through the strap and adjusted it at my side. It was one of the smallest bags I owned and I usually only carried it if I was going to a sporting event where there would be large crowds. I hated people bumping into me and my bag for fear that it was a ploy to pick-pocket me or something else nefarious. However, most stadiums or venues had small bag policies. This one was black and not clear as was the standard for some of those policies, but if I had to go small, I still wanted it to be cute.
I walked across the parking lot, intent on getting this conversation out of the way, when it occurred to me that Ididn’t even know if Noah was working tonight. I didn’t have his number so I couldn’t send a “Hey, sorry about last night. Can I stop by tonight?” text. So, I guess I was just gonna take my chances.
A guy who didn’t look more than nineteen or twenty, wearing a black polo with a smaller Game Changers and star insignia on it, greeted me as soon as I was inside. He directed me to the hostess station at the front entrance and asked if I wanted to be seated at a table.
“The bar is always open, but it’s a little tight down here since it’s karaoke night,” he continued with a cute smile. “The Sky Lounge is upstairs and its much quieter up there.”
I nodded. “I don’t know, this rendition ofI Will Surviveis pretty good,” I told him and glanced toward the stage. Sure enough, there was a woman with goddess braids swinging down to her calves belting out the words to the classic Gloria Gaynor song.
He shrugged. “It’s one of the better ones I’ve heard since the start of my shift. But the night is still relatively young, we’ve got time for improvement.”
I chuckled. “Well, I think karaoke’s more about having fun than actually being good at singing.”
“Yeah, but my ears would prefer you sing from your seat if you’re horrible.” He laughed, and I joined him.
He was a cute kid and charismatic. Whoever assigned him to greet customers at the door made a wise decision. I could see young women coming here just to get a look at him.
“You goofin’ off again, Stefan?” a thunderous male voice asked. “We can always move you upstairs if you’re too distracted down here.”
The kid, Stefan, sobered instantly. His smile vanished and eyes widened as they landed somewhere over my shoulder. I wanted to see who’d interrupted our relaxing banter so I turnedin that direction. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the huge bald guy with the sexiest scowl I’d ever seen. I’d been in the sports industry for years now, so I was no stranger to very tall men or very big football players. But this man was something else. He was all muscles, poking out from beneath the short sleeves of the black T-shirt he wore, peppered over the landscape of his chest and abs, filling out the black denim jeans. When I noticed the same logo, but bigger and in the center of his shirt, that was on Stefan’s, I surmised he was also an employee here. Perhaps a bouncer with his big, intimidating demeanor.
“No, I was um…uhh, I just was…” Stefan stammered.
“He was telling me how much fun karaoke night is around here,” I said, then extended a hand to the gargantuan hunk. “Hi, I’m Serra Ward. Do you know if Noah Jordan is working tonight?”
The hunk gave a nod, and I knew it was to dismiss Stefan because I could hear him shuffling away behind me. I kept my gaze focused on this new guy who I suspected was in some type of supervisory position over Stefan.
“I’m Rock,” he said moments before folding my much smaller hand into his much bigger one. “I can take you to Noah.”
