Page 4 of Playing to Win

I sigh as I look at Drew, the man who knows me better than anyone, and I cave. “Alice is pregnant.”

Drew offers no response other than to hold up two fingers to Jennie, who carries a bottle over to refill our glasses.

“I don’t know, Drew. On some level, I guess I’ve always thought we would end up together. She’s had two failed marriages. She’s older now. It’s not like her parents control her the way they used to. But a kid? I mean, that’s…she’s not going to leave this one.”

I raise my chin to Jennie, who flashes me a coy smile. Then I take a gulp from my freshly topped-off glass. “I know how long it’s been. I know we were kids when we had Cady. It’s just still…”

Drew pats my shoulder as he finishes my sentence. “A punch in the gut. I can finally understand it, buddy. I thought I’d lost Becky once and it wrecked me. I just hope you don’t stop yourself from ever finding someone, Brooks. Don’t hold on to it so long you let it ruin your life.”

I laugh. A short, harsh sound. “Like another eighteen years?”

* * * *

At 1:30 a.m. and five or six whiskies later, I’m standing outside the bar with my back propped against a yellow cab. A mild liquor fog has settled in my mind. Enough to blunt the turmoil of my own thoughts about Alice and her baby. Not enough to stop them completely. I stayed for another drink, or two, after Drew left. I flagged the cab when I noticed Jennie packing up for the night.

She finally appears through the double doors to the bar, stepping onto the sidewalk with a short leather jacket covering her little black dress. She’s laughing with two others who were working behind the bar tonight. Before she sees me, I hit Send on the text I’ve already typed.

I watch a pouty smile appear on her lips as she takes out her cell phone and reads my words:

YOUR PLACE OR MINE?

She lifts her head and looks left, then right, where our eyes connect. I open the cab door and she whispers something to the girl she’s with before coming to me. “Well, my eyes are open now, and it looks like you want a cheap fling.”

I raise my hand to her neck and move my face within an inch of hers. “First, I don’t think you’re cheap. I think you’re hot and looking for a good time tonight. Second, yes, I do want a fling. One night to show you how a man should treat a woman. Nothing more.”

Her eyes seem to grow heavier; then she bites her lip and slips into the back of the cab.

Third, tonight, I could really use a distraction.

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