Players

by Rachel Cross

  “I wish thirty-one-year-old Nate could have spoken to fifteen-year-old Nate.” Pushing open the door, his dad walked onto the sidewalk.

  “Yeah, I could’ve used the thirty-one-year-old me for a lot of dumb things I did as a kid. But I turned out okay, thanks to you.”

  Pops smiled and grabbed his shoulders. “I don’t know if I say this enough, but you are my greatest accomplishment. The money . . . the job . . . success doesn’t mean much to a man if he doesn’t have a family to share it with.”

  “Thanks. Love you, too.”

  His dad slapped his shoulder and stepped back. “Now make me even more proud and go get that girl up there.”

  “I’m not sure what to do with her. Just a few weeks ago, she was either freezing me out or we were at each other’s throats. I’m not trying to marry Mom.”

  Stepping back, Pops sighed. “She’s freezing you out for a reason, son. You admitted to me that you barged in on her shoot.”

  “Not on purpose, Pops.”

  “Not on purpose, but you did it all the same. As for Tiana being like your mother . . . I don’t know. Tiana seemed real sweet to me, and I think it’s worth exploring.” His eyes drilled holes into Nathan. “And she’s nothing like Renita. Trust me.”

  Nathan nodded. “Right. Gotta go, Pops.”

  “All right, son. Take care.” He turned to leave.

  Nathan waved one last time as he watched his dad turn the corner. Then he took his time walking through the marble lobby. When the elevator came, he punched the number for his floor. After the doors slid closed, he was grateful for the space, solitude, and silence.

  What mood would Tiana be in when he returned? She’d seemed charmed by his dad, and he wasn’t surprised. Everyone loved Pops.

  He’d told Pops about their bet, and his dad and Martha had been badgering him about his progress ever since—although he’d told Pops he had no plans to date his mistrustful coworker.

  Nathan got why she didn’t trust easily. She had baggage. Lots and lots of baggage, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted the hassle. Why couldn’t she be easy like Shelly? Or like Shelly used to be. She did everything he asked, no complaints. Never pushed back. Never called him out when he was wrong. Never turned him down when he wanted something.

  And he was bored out of his ever-loving mind.

  The elevator dinged. Stepping off, he picked up the pace, eager to see Tiana. I like her and dammit, I want to try. But she wouldn’t believe his words. She’d heard them before. Probably from her mother and former fiancé. She needed action, patience, and kindness. He would give that and more. When he pushed through the office, the door swung behind him.

  Tiana jumped in her seat and removed her headphones with shaking fingers. Desire churned in his gut. He wanted to stalk and claim his prize, but for now, he would settle for quality time and food and friendship. For now.

  “I was an ass, and I’m sorry. The truth is, I value our time together, and when you were at your shoot I . . . I missed you.”

  Her stiff shoulders relaxed at his confession, but her eyes still bore a trace of distrust.

  He took a deep breathed and continued. “I wanted to see you in action because you’re talented and beautiful, not because I was trying to distract you. I do have the tendency to step in and take over, and for that, I apologize. If you forgive me, I promise to never betray your trust again.”

  Tiana hadn’t said a word throughout his monologue. She stared at him with her cool and assessing eyes.

  What are you thinking, Peaches? He was nervous, and he needed to do something. He’d said enough. Tossing her on his desk and kissing her wasn’t an option, so he settled for his pops’s peace offering.

  Walking over to the brown bag, he lifted it in the air. “Ribs?”

  He held his breath as she continued to take him in. C’mon, baby. Give me a chance.

  Tiana nodded, a ghost of a smile on her face. “Don’t forget to share the mac and cheese, baked beans, and homemade biscuits.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Aretha Franklin blared from the music app on Tiana’s cell phone. She hummed along, moving around her matchbox kitchen. The kernels had stopped popping on the stove, reminding her to uncover the pot. Toppings already assembled, she sprinkled salt and pepper and then poured melted butter over the popcorn.

  After perfecting the treat, she placed the ingredients back in their proper alphabetized sections and then surveyed the kitchen. Everything from the scrubbed counters to the Swiffered floorboards was spotless.

  Three staccato beeps interrupted the inspection. She smiled, not upset by the distraction, and pressed the buzzer to let her guest into the building.

  When she’d mentioned her plans to veg out and watch her favorite movies over the weekend, Nathaniel had asked if he could come over. Secretly she was surprised and delighted. They weren’t hanging out because of a stupid bet, but because he wanted to hang out. Only as friends. The ribs and the apology had gone a long way for Tiana. Nathaniel had been so vulnerable when he apologized, and somehow his confession and Pops’s magical ribs had bridged the gap of mistrust. She even went to his shoot and refrained from sabotaging him. Well, with the exception of swapping out his ringtone for Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like a Woman.” She sniggered at the memory. It had taken Nathaniel most of the chorus to figure out the music was coming from his cell phone. Jake had given him an odd look and said, “Hey, man. To each his own.”

  Turning off the music, she opened the door, prepared to greet him, but the words melted like sugar on her tongue.

  Nathaniel stood there armed with champagne, half-a-dozen roses, and a dangerous smile.

  Her knees felt like twice-whipped mashed potatoes, and she struggled to remain standing.

  He was the poster child for bad boys. Plain white tee, black motorcycle jacket, and scuffed-to-all-hell boots. The champagne and flowers didn’t soften the danger, not when he had that blinding, bright white Pied Piper smile in his arsenal.

  Like a sorcerer, his hypnotic powers drew her in, leading her into the deep. I’m sinking.

  “Peaches, aren’t you going to invite me in?” Lifting his eyebrows, he gave her another killer smile.

  She moistened her lips and injected steel into her spine—the wolf at the door wouldn’t be devouring her today. “Come in, and thank you for the flowers and champagne, Nathaniel.” Reaching for the bottle and bouquet, she held her breath, determined to block the scent and any other romantic notions from piercing her senses.

  She returned to the kitchen to find a vase and chill the champagne. “Go relax in the living room and prepare to be amazed.” She modulated her voice to be light and friendly.

  Sighing, he flopped on the couch, tossing a decorative green-and-navy-blue pillow to the other sofa. “I told you already, Peaches. I’m not into this high fantasy stuff. I didn’t watch Lord of the Rings when it came out years ago for a reason.”

  “And I’m here to rectify that horrible mistake.”

  “Are you sure we can’t watch something else? Hell, I’ll even try a chick flick.”

  “Give it up! You aren’t going to convince me to change my mind.”

  “I had to give it one last try.”

  “Do you love action movies?” she yelled over her shoulder, shaking the popcorn into a large bowl.

  “Yes.”

  “Heroic movies?”

  Nathan sighed. “Doesn’t every red-blooded man?”

  “You like seeing hot women with a dash of romance?”

  “Yes to the hot women. Romance, I could take it or leave it.”

  Turning, she smiled at him. “Great, then you’ll love The Lord of the Rings. And for the next nine hours—”

  “Nine . . . nine hours?” He gripped his leather jacket, looking ready to bolt. “As much as I enjoy your company, I cannot sit on my ass for nine hours.”

  Tiana shook her head as she hurried, bowl in hand, to the living room. Placing the dish in the middle of the coffee table, s
he then folded her yoga-pants-clad legs underneath her to settle beside him. “The time will fly by. Trust me.”

  “I’ll sit for two movies, but I can’t guarantee the third one.”

  “Deal.” Smiling, she lifted the remote. Her mood lightened and soared. She couldn’t wait to share her favorite movies with him. “Now, prepare to be wowed.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “I’m already wowed that you’re a big ol’ nerd.”

  She placed a finger over his lips. “Quiet you. Listen to the narrative.”

  • • •

  Yawning, Nathan stretched his arms up. He looked over and shook his head at Tiana, whispering the hobbit’s dialogue, Samwise whoever. She was so damn cute and in her element, laughing before a character could do or say a funny line. Squeezing her eyes shut during a tense scene, she still whispered the lines.

  He glanced down at his watch and cursed. Already half past four. No wonder she’d insisted they start in the morning. He’d refused, of course. No one gets up on a Saturday to watch the entire Lord of the Rings collection.

  “Look up. You’re about to miss the part where Aragon tracks the hobbits. Don’t worry. They’re still alive!”

  “Joy.”

  She once again threw a kernel of popcorn at his head. But this time, he grabbed it from the air and tossed it in his mouth. Putting a finger over her mouth, she shushed him. “Be quiet and enjoy the movie, Nathan.”

  “No, really I’m . . . ” The rest was forgotten. A flood of warmth spread in his chest. She’d called him Nathan. She’d actually called him Nathan.

  “You’re what?” Frowning, she paused the movie. “You have to pay attention.”

  Oh, I’m paying attention. He lifted his hand to her face, grazing her full lips with the pad of his thumb. “You’ve got some butter there,” he lied.

  “Okay.” Her shaky hands pressed the play button.

  He grinned, kicked up his feet, and stretched his arms around her shoulders. She was his for the taking. She just didn’t know it yet.

  • • •

  This woman had to be a witch. How else could Nathan explain sitting his ass down and staring at movies for almost nine hours?

  “Soooo?” Grabbing the remote, Tiana turned off the television. “What do you think? Is it not the best trilogy of all time?”

  Damn, she’s cute. Cute, but wrong. “Not of all time, but I have to admit, it was pretty good.”

  Seated beside him on the couch, Tiana whipped her head to face him. “P-pretty good? Pretty good? Try amazing. Spectacular!” She threw her hands in the air. “I challenge you to find a better trilogy.”

  He reached for a bottle of Blue Moon and gulped down the beer. “The Godfather.”

  She shook her head as she folded her slender arms. “Eh.” She shrugged. “The first two movies were A-plus. The third was a C-minus at best. Brings down the average. Next.”

  Crossing his ankles, he took another gulp. This woman was out of her damn mind if she thought that hobbits and magical swords were better than the mafia and machine guns. “Batman. The Dark Knight trilogy.”

  She shook her head. “Sure, if you’re into Christian Bale’s creepy Batman voice. I mean, if he was so hi-tech, why not attach a voice modifier to his mask? Why did he have to whisper-yell?”

  That’s it. She’s ridiculous. He narrowed his eyes at her and she smiled.

  “Let’s agree to disagree. I have no energy after our movie marathon.”

  Her carefree smile slipped. He could’ve sworn he saw a flash of disappointment in her eyes. “Are you tired?”

  He stretched his eyes. “Yes, Peaches, I’m tired and have a boxing match tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow night! You fight people? Outside of training?”

  “Yes. It’s fun. Nothing is more rewarding than pounding someone’s head in the ring.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m kidding, Peaches. But it is nice to blow off some steam. You should try it one day.” He snapped his fingers. “Hey, maybe that’ll be our next thing.”

  Folding her arms, she slumped back onto the sofa. “Or not. I’m not into sports. Or fighting.”

  He stood and shook out the stiffness in his arms and legs. “If you change your mind, I’ll be at Urgo’s Body Shop. Seven o’clock.”

  She stood and walked him to the door. “Don’t expect me, but good luck. I’d hate for someone to smash in the only thing you have going for you.”

  “Ha, ha.” He turned and leaned against the doorframe so their bodies were only inches apart. He was drowning. Drowning in a pair of pretty brown eyes. Tense seconds became a minute, or was it more? He’d lost track of time.

  Gasping, she jumped back. She shook her head and sank perfect white teeth into a pair of plump lips. She followed it up with a slow, innocent lick.

  Damn, but he wanted to retrace the path of her tongue. Reaching for her shoulders, he pulled her closer. Their bodies now stood flush against each other. “Peaches—”

  She pushed away from his chest. “See you on Monday.”

  Clenching his jaw, he closed his eyes for patience. She isn’t ready.

  Pushing off the frame, he stepped outside the open door. “Bye, Tiana.”

  “Bye, Nathan.” She quickly closed the door.

  “You can hide for a little while, Peaches,” he whispered. “But I’ll be back.”

  • • •

  “We’re losing!” Julia lamented, blowing her fiery red hair from her eyes.

  Tiana washed her hands and glanced into the mirror, eyeing her intern pacing behind her, wringing pale hands.

  “Julia. What did I tell you about impromptu bathroom meetings?”

  She loved her intern to pieces, but the girl lived and breathed work. Julia often followed Tiana into the bathroom to discuss topics that could have been sent via email.

  “Yes, I know, but it’s important. Mr. Lawson’s video about Jake being the everyday man is beating out our many-faces-of-Jake video.”

  The back of Tiana’s neck bristled, and she stiffened her shoulders. Her video and Nathan’s were filmed nearly a month ago and launched last week. They still had eleven weeks left to battle it out, but the initial performance was outstanding.

  “What are the stats?”

  “Our videos are a combined twenty-two thousand and ten views behind his videos.”

  “When did you last check the numbers?”

  “Seven minutes ago.”

  “All right. We can still rebound. I’ll send out an e-blast to a few of my blogger pals, but views aren’t everything. Engagement is important. How many comments do we have?”

  “We are slightly above in the comments. Lots of women are commenting on the video with his nieces and nephews. We have eleven hundred and ten comments. Nathaniel has seven hundred and eight.”

  Yes!

  Tiana tried to channel Queen Elizabeth’s regal head nod. “Good. Keep me posted. But again, Julia, you could’ve emailed.”

  The intern pouted and crossed her arms. “Mr. Lawson is always staring at you or looking over your shoulder. I don’t trust email as a safe form of communication anymore.”

  Sighing, Tiana rubbed her wet hands under the air dryer. “Fine,” she yelled over the noise. “Send me a report on our numbers versus his, and I’ll review them at home.”

  “You got it, boss!” Julia saluted and rushed out of the restroom.

  Gripping the sink, Tiana leaned over and stared at herself in the mirror. Somehow, she and Nathan had become . . . something. And it blurred her defined lines of separating work life from personal life. Nathan is . . . Shit! I’m calling him Nathan? She paced in front of the mirror, willing herself to remember if she had said it out loud. The man was trying to worm himself into her life, and she was letting him. Stick to the plan and get this promotion. Put your education to good use and be a great example for Casey and Courtney.

  She splashed water on her face and then patted it dry. “You can still be his
friend but stay focused.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nathan strode into their office and plopped down two light-gray tickets on the edge of her desk.

  Tiana pushed away from the keyboard, eyes drawn to his watchful expression. “I suppose these are tickets to the next adventure you have lined up for us.”

  His eyes scanned her outfit. “That’s right.”

  Tiana hid a smile. She’d known when she put on the fiery red pantsuit and her leopard-print heels, that Nathan would appreciate the bold pairing. Her bra and panties matched her shoes. Not that he’ll ever see me in my underwear . . . again.

  “Let me guess . . . we’re going to a Broadway show?” Her lip twitched. No way in hell would he sit down for a stage play.

  Nathan slid his tongue across his bottom lip. “Don’t think so, Peaches. Guess again.”

  “A quiet evening of culture and introspection at the Museum of Modern Art?”

  “No, but you’re getting warmer. Some may call what you’ll be watching a work of art.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he gave her a half smile.

  Tiana full on smiled, liking their game. “We’re going to engage our olfactory systems at the Botanical Gardens.”

  Nathan leaned against his desk and shook his head again. “You’re terrible at this game. Give up?”

  “Yes, I give up.” Truth be told, she was excited to spend another day outside of work with Nathan. Fiete had kept them busy since they launched the campaigns online. She’d stay tense until they declared a winner.

  “Those tickets are ringside seats for you and a friend to watch me fight.”

  Tiana’s stomach dropped. Not what she had in mind. She’d much rather spend the evening doing the wild guesses she’d offered earlier.

  The thought of someone punching his face in had once appealed to her, but now she kind of liked that face. Besides, boxing was messy and uncontrolled with gratuitous violence.

  “I hope those tickets are refundable because there is no way I’m going to see you get your face smashed in.”

  She shivered at the memory of one of her mother’s exes. He was big into boxing and even bigger into reenacting his moves on her mother. For one year straight, he would drive up their cable bill with pay-per-view fights, often forcing her mother and siblings to watch with him. “I . . . I just can’t do it, Nathan.”