Page 3 of Playing to Win

“God, tell me about it. I’m thinking about locking her in her bedroom and putting a chastity belt on her until she’s forty.”

Angie throws her head back as she laughs, her blond-gray ponytail swaying. “Well, her ma was a looker at that age. Not that I have to tell you as much.”

My mind drifts to Alice—her soft smile, her gentle touch, the sweet scent of strawberries that surrounds her.

“No, you don’t have to tell me that,” I tell Angie, fighting to keep my lips straight, rather than scowling. The woman knows how to kick a man. But she’s always been a good friend to my mother and there have been times when she’s helped keep me on the straight and narrow. Hell, sometimes her brutal honesty can be endearing. “On that note… Beer, Drew?”

He wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and slides his plate across the counter to Angie. “Thanks, Angie. Don’t tell my mother but you’ve always made the best food of all the moms.”

“Get out of here.” She beams, more with pride than embarrassment, I think.

The summer night air is warm as we head a few blocks west, toward Central Park. We take up two stools at an intentionally rustic bar. I guess you could call it a haunt of ours, although we come here less now than we used to. I’m busy, with the gym being at full capacity these days. Drew has been working crazy hours for as long as I can remember, and now, he has Becky too. But it’s Friday and we’re going to have a couple of beers before Drew picks up Becky from the swanky restaurant where she works as a patisserie chef.

Damn, after the news I received today, a few beers will be more than welcome.

A young waitress makes eye contact. “What can I get you, gents?” From the length of the minidress she’s wearing, together with her slim hips and flat stomach, I’d guess she’s in her early to midtwenties. Her hair is perfectly styled. The gloss finish shines beneath the bar lights, showing the multiple colors that have been woven through it. It tells me she can afford a decent stylist. But the small hoop that pierces the inside of her ear tells me she’s kind of edgy. I’m going to guess she’s a student. An art student, maybe. Working a bar for some extra cash.

She plants her hands on the wood-top counter. Despite the crowd, she takes time to bend forward toward us, intentionally displaying two pert breasts beneath the low neckline of her dress. She’s obvious but she is attractive.

Drew pays her only a cursory glance, and she focuses her attention on me as a result. “Two Johnnie Walker Blue Label, on the rocks,” I tell her.

She draws one side of her mouth up until a dimple shows. “Hard liquor,” she says, emphasizing “hard.”

It’s forward, too forward, but I’d be lying if I said my cock didn’t twitch. She could be someone to take me out of my head later, when I know I’ll otherwise lie in bed dwelling on what will never be with Alice.

I watch her set about making our drinks. When she places them in front of us, she says, “I’ve never seen you in here.” As she does, she slips me a napkin with the name “Jennie” and a cell number written on it in lipstick.

“Try opening your eyes,” I tell her with a grin, taking the napkin. Her eyes do, in fact, shoot wide.

When she walks away, Drew lifts his drink to his mouth. “You’re going to take her home, aren’t you?”

“She’s like an eight and she’s gagging for it.”

We both watch as Jennie glances back across her shoulder and suddenly laughs. She’s cute.

“And you tell her to open her eyes? Risky tactic,” Drew says.

“Not when you’ve got nothing to lose. If you start with nothing, you can only gain, right?”

Drew’s brows furrow. “You okay, bud?”

“Fine. Just busy.” I swig from my glass and enjoy the burn of whisky in my chest.

“That’s what you’ve said the last three times I’ve asked you recently.”

“So stop asking.”

He raises his glass as if accepting my point, and sips. I shouldn’t have snapped, but goddamn Angie brought my mind back to Alice. I just haven’t shaken it off yet.

“Speaking of busy,” Drew begins. “I thought we were going to find some time to talk about your franchising the gym?”

I have thought about franchising the gym. Years ago, all I wanted was to be a successful businessman. To make something of myself. To make money for my family, enough to win back Alice. Now… “What’s the point? One gym keeps me busy enough. And I have money saved to put Cady through college.”

“You’ve got the best gym in the city, Brooks, and a hell of a reputation to go with it. You’ve wanted to expand for as long as I can remember. I think now is a great time. I can e-mail you some documents, some things to think about.”

I drag my hands roughly across my face. “Yeah, send them across. I’ll take a look.” I drain the liquor in my glass and plant the empty down, too hard.

“All right, buddy, what’s going on?”

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