Dangerous Play (Dangerous Book 1)

by Romi Hart

  I think it’s a bit suspicious Blake isn’t here yet. I figured he of all people would be punctual. And I made sure to get here at exactly one hour from when he called—four PM!

  Maybe it’s Amanda messing with me. Or maybe it’s something to do with…

  I suddenly feel a grab on my shoulder! I toss my head back and fall into a defensive position. But my footing is off and I stumble backward, nervously looking on at whoever caught me by surprise.

  Blake stands before me, smiling ear to ear and nodding.

  “Mister Nate, how are you? A little jumpy.”

  “Just a little,” I say in confusion, having no damned idea how Blake just snuck up on me like a superhero. For an older man, he sure sneaks up like no one’s business!

  “Sorry if I startled you.”

  "Yeah…are you a part-time PI or something?"

  “No,” he laughs quietly. “Just a father. You always have to think one step ahead of the boys chasing after your girl, I think you know what I mean.”

  I look into Blake’s eyes and sense a friendly note, unusual for him. His graying features and strong jawline are so much more inviting when he’s smiling that’s for sure.

  “Yeah sure. Is this about Amanda?”

  “No,” he says hesitantly. “I’m here because I respect Amanda’s wishes to have nothing to do with you.” He loses his smile and makes sure I get the point.

  “Oh. I see…”

  “Nate,” he says before a long pause. “I wonder how serious were you when you offered to buy my store a while back. I know you said it in front of Amanda. Maybe you were trying to show off a little bit.”

  He waits for an answer. I shrug it off. “Hey man…maybe I was trying to act like big daddy Santa Claus or something…”

  He nods and looks down.

  “But I’m a man of my word. I don’t ever promise things I don’t mean.”

  “So…you are interested in buying it?”

  “Talk to me, Blake. What’s going on?”

  He looks nostalgic and keeps his head low. It's a struggle to admit what he's really thinking, but he pushes the words out of his mouth. "Look Nate…I'm here because I need a miracle. You were the only person to ever make a real offer, at least, I hope it's real. For the last three years, I've been privately looking for an investor to uh…you know, buy the business. Take it off my hands."

  “Why?”

  “I’m not doing that well. The last three or four years I’ve just lost everything. Not speaking of just money, but the time…my memory…everything. I’m not the man I was twenty years ago. The business is operating at a loss.”

  Blake looks down again, this time in shame, he even has trouble looking me in the eyes. “I’m thousands of dollars in debt. I’m too old to get an investor. I just need to sell the store and have someone take it off my hands. I need to buy a few years of retirement, that’s what it comes down to.”

  I nod…a little perplexed at the situation. The very idea of buying the store sends a chill down my spine. Not just because I love guitars but also because I know for a fact it would be helping Amanda. Helping her family. Wouldn’t that prove to her that…

  “You sounded like you were serious. But…I don’t know, Nate,” Blake says, eying me with a surly expression. “Was it all just talk?”

  Buy the store. Save the family business. Win over Amanda’s father, maybe even Stephen’s approval. Amanda would feel guilted to sleep with me again. To be with me permanently. I could buy my way into her heart, into her life. I would win everything.

  And that’s why I realize…that I can’t possibly do something like this. I have to say no. But how to break it to Blake, who looks like a damn orphan on Christmas Eve.

  “Can I ask you something, Mister Shannon?” I say with hesitance.

  “Yes...”

  “Does your family know about your financial situation?”

  “Of course not. I don’t want to worry them with such…stressful details. A man always protects his family.”

  I nod slowly.

  “But it’s about to hit the fan, son,” he says in disgrace. “I’m one step away from bankruptcy. If you don’t buy the store, I’m screwed. I’m going to have to break the news to the girls. I’m going to lose everything.”

  “There’s just one problem, sir. I promised Amanda something…that I wouldn’t get involved in her life anymore. That’s what she made me promise. And I am a man of my word. I promised her too.”

  “Ah, I see,” Blake says with a heavy heart. “I suppose you think, or she thinks, that such a business transaction would demand favors.”

  “What I know is Amanda would never forgive me if I ‘bought and owned’ her passion in life. You know the family business means everything to her.”

  “No, no,” Blake says firmly. “After this, it would be gone. Amanda would find another job. I would retire…the family would move on, we would-”

  “Mister Shannon,” I interrupt with a reluctant smile. “I made a promise to her.”

  He stops talking and stares at me, before slowly nodding off. “I understand. I suppose it was wishful thinking. A man has to provide for his family, doesn’t he? I suppose trying to cash my way out of my responsibility is not honorable.”

  “Look if I could help I would…”

  He nods and waves away my good intentions. Poor man…nothing will help him right now but an escape plan. He’s tired. Hurting from a lifetime of underappreciated work. He wants to rest. But maybe it’s not his time yet. Maybe…the old man still has some work to do.

  “Hey…” I say to him just as he turns around, looking like he’s ready to storm out the door and scream. “You said before…that you’re too old for anyone to invest in that. What did you mean by that?”

  “It means I’m old, Nate.”

  “No, no,” I say defiantly. “I don’t care, old man. You don’t get an easy out like that. What do you think my coach would tell me if I told him I was ready to quit. Hell no! He would kick my ass and send me running ten laps.”

  “Nate…” he says, shaking his head.

  “Don’t you Nate me. Now you listen here. You talk about being a man and providing for your family? Then you do it. You don’t get no way out. You get your ass back to work and you get the passion back in your life. It ain’t time to die yet.”

  Blake is still making faces, trying to figure out where I’m coming from.

  “Amanda needs you. Your family needs you. Be a man. Be a man and provide for your family. You understand?”

  He scoffs at me and turns around, ready to leave again.

  “Blake…” I say, stopping him in his tracks. “I’m giving you the money.”

  “What?” he says, his face perking up.

  “I meant what I said. I made a promise to Amanda. But I made a legitimate offer to you first. The only way to make this work is if I lend you the money, as an investor.”

  “You mean…”

  “Meaning you own it. You run it. And Amanda doesn’t have to know about this. It’s just between us. That way I keep my promise to her too.”

  This time he shakes his head in disbelief! “Nate…I don’t know what to say. This money would mean so much…”

  “Believe me…retirement is no walk in the park. When you retire, it’s over. It’s a slow walk to death. Keep doing what you love as long as you can. I should know, right? As soon as I break my throwing arm or suffer a few more concussions, my career is over. Then what am I going to do?”

  “I hear you,” Blake says, still in disbelief. He really got everything he wanted.

  And I admit…it feels good to help someone else. For no ulterior motive and no glory. Maybe this is my redemption for being such a soulless asshole who everyone loves to hate. Maybe if God exists, he’ll give me a fucking get out of jail free card. I don’t know about that. But at least for once, maybe I can sleep at night with a clean conscience.

  “Are you uh…” Blake almost hesitates to ask, but eventually gets it
out. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell Amanda…I would hate to accidentally say something and spill the beans. Then she’d be mad at us both!” Blake laughs it up and smacks my shoulder.

  "No," I say with a weak smile. "Don't bother. Thing is…even if she found out the truth, she wouldn't believe it. Amanda thinks I am the scum of the earth. And that's the only thing she's sure about."

  9

  Amanda

  Dad seems unusually chipper lately. It sure is a 180-degree change from last week, when he seemed angry at the world. Maybe it's no coincidence that the same week that arrogant prick Nate Jiggur finally left me alone, dad lightened up. No one to chase me around and make me uncomfortable…no reason for dad to be all protective and gruff. Seems believable.

  But part of me still wonders. Nate promised me he wouldn’t talk to me anymore, but did he say something to dad? Dad seems completely mute on the subject. Even when I casually mention Nate’s name he deliberately avoids speaking. Not a word. As if Nate doesn’t exist. Something’s up.

  We’ve just finished totaling up the receipts for the week and by now, dad should be stressing, fussing and grabbing what little hair he has left in frustration. More debt, more retirement worries. Another frantic conversation about what the future holds.

  “Did pretty good this week!” dad says merrily, stuffing the checks and credit card receipts into an envelope, and then putting the cash into a wallet.

  That seems strange. I was here all week and I’d say this was a fairly average week. We made enough to eat but not enough to make a dent in our family’s debt. Dad doesn’t even know that I know. But I’m not stupid…I’ve seen the books. I’ve even seen the threatening letters from the IRS and credit card companies, even though he thinks he can hide those from me. I know everything about this store and this family.

  And we are not having a pretty good week!

  “I think our debt is getting out of hand,” I say, testing him and looking into his lying eyes. “What are we going to do?”

  “What are you talking about?” he says, keeping his eyes to the checkbook.

  “I think we’re not making nearly enough profit, especially for this time of year. I think we need to think of a back up plan.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says mysteriously. “I have a good feeling.”

  “A good feeling? Well, I don’t. I think there’s a problem, dad.”

  “Business has been better this year, especially compared to last year. We’re going to be okay.”

  “Well…”

  “Jesus is taking care of us.”

  I send him a frosty look. That just seems downright insulting. I mean, I get that my dad believes, and maybe I do too…but he’s NEVER brought God into this. Not once.

  “You really believe that?”

  “Look,” he says, still smiling but trying to weasel out of this conversation. “Just have a little faith in your old man.”

  I frown at him and drop the conversations. Of course, I have faith. But I can also sense false hope coming from a mile away.

  We seem to have miraculously recovered. And dad thinks I don’t remember Nate’s very kind offer to buy the business…just so he could butt into my life yet again.

  I walk into the maintenance backroom, eager to get away from dad and his Jesus miracle and ready to tear Nate a new hole. I grab my phone and call his number just thinking of the right swear word to use…and how many times!

  “This is Nate. I ain’t here. I’m NOWHERE. I’m not on the internet. Not on the phone. Not in the park or on a flight, not even at home. Nate is minding his own damn business for a change.”

  I roll my eyes at his self-loathing phone message and wait impatiently for the beep.

  “Sorry,” the robotic voice says. “This inbox is full.”

  “Goddamn it, Nate!”

  He thinks he’s won this game. But bullshit on that. If he wants to play, I’ll play. But I’m going to kick his ass and leave him in the fucking mud! If he wants to avoid me on the phone and block my texts, I’ll go to meet him in person.

  I know where he’s going to be tomorrow night. Signing autographs in Clint Falls, a small town in East Texas. Not that I’m stalking him.

  Not that I haven’t thought of meeting him and fucking his brains out again.

  Yeah…it’s crossed my mind. But I have to be strong. I can’t let him manipulate me. I’ve fought my whole life to reclaim my dignity after that rat bastard stole it from me. I can’t afford to lose to Nate on this!

  If he broke his promise to me, if he betrayed me by buying my family’s store, I will strangle that motherfucker!

  * * *

  “Well, well, well!” Nate says, giving me a stupid grin, as I stand before him in front of his table and behind a crowd of fans, folding my arms. Letting him know I’m the only one here who doesn’t worship him…and the only one here who has some serious shit on his reputation.

  “Don’t well well well me,” I say calmly. “I’m here to talk to you.”

  “Interesting. Because the way I understand it…” he says with a cocky smirk, “We have nothing to talk about. I’m keeping fifty yards away from you, just like you asked.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Come on, Miss,” he says. “Don’t hold up the line.”

  I send him a threatening glare…but with a smirk of my own. “Nate, I can make this as professional or as embarrassing as you want.”

  He sighs in surrender, but can’t wipe the smile off his face.

  “Hey everybody!” I scream to the people behind me. “Nate Jiggur, that fucking asshole, just signed my book!”

  The crowd of people cheer.

  “Okay, you win,” he says tilting his head. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Anywhere private is fine.”

  “Damn, this is my lucky night.”

  “Don’t be a smart ass. You know what this is about.”

  “Do I?”

  Nate stands up and waves over his bodyguard, explaining the situation and why he needs a recess. Nate signals to me, suggesting I go back behind the wall.

  I walk forward and then back into the private room, ignoring the commotion of the crowd. They’re starting to boo Nate for making them wait longer for an autograph. Oh honey, if they only knew why Nate deserved to get booed.

  I wait impatiently…stomping my foot and groaning, hating the very idea of going back to see this guy. He hasn’t won. I DON’T want him. But he sure as hell better have a good excuse.

  Finally, Nate walks into the room and shuts the door behind him.

  “What the fuck did you do?” I blurt out.

  “Well-?”

  “And don’t play dumb with me. My father already told me.”

  “Dammit,” he says, looking to the side and biting his lip.

  “So?”

  “What? It’s just money…”

  “Aha! So you admit it!”

  “What? I thought you said your father…”

  I lower my eyes in judgment.

  “Damn it again!” he says. “I shoulda’ seen that coming.”

  “Just confess.”

  “I didn’t buy the store, I didn’t break my promise,” he says, staring straight ahead—not lying.

  “Really? Then what?”

  “I loaned your father some money.”

  “You what? Why? We can’t pay you back-!”

  “I gave it to him,” he clarifies with a firm jaw and stiff lips. “I invested in the business. That’s all. He owes me nothing.”

  The thought hits me like a ton of bricks. I blink a few times and then lose all my ire. I stare at him in awe…almost embarrassment.

  “Why…Why Nate?”

  “Because I wanted to do a good thing,” he says with a brooding face. “It has nothing to do with you. As far as I’m concerned, we got nothing more to say.”

  “…Yeah but you still approached him, you still-”

  “NO. He approached me. That was the deal I offered him.
Non-repayable loan and no mention of this to Amanda. That was the deal.”

  “God,” I mutter, breaking my stare and hiding my frustration in my hands. “I knew it. I knew he was acting weird.”

  “Now you know. I got a show to do.”

  “Nate…”

  “What?”

  “Thank you.” I bring myself to look at him again. Not in judgment, not in lust, not in spite. Just looking at him, one on one, as someone I actually see. Someone I know. Someone I may even respect. “You didn’t have to do that. My dad shouldn’t have asked.”

  “Hey, I was happy to do it. I told you, I’ve always loved music. And every once in a while I like to pretend I’m a decent human being. But hey, don’t say stuff like that about me in public. Got an image to uphold.”

  “Right,” I say, smiling. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your show.”

  “I’m sorry, Amanda,” he says, meeting my eyes and humbling himself. “I came on too strong before. I didn’t…I didn’t know how to treat you. I’ve only ever known…you know…how to treat women that leave. I don’t know what to do to impress you.”

  I listen closely, but I don’t know what to think. This is a rare showing of his genuine soul. Not a monster or a money-obsessed fool. Just a confused boy who plays the game people want him to play.

  “You’ve impressed me, Nate,” I say tiredly. “I really didn’t expect this from you.” But I shrug, not really having much else to give him. “So what else do you want?”

  “Just answer me this. Why did you come to me if you didn’t like me? Why didn’t you just slap my face and never see me again?”

  “Because Nate,” I say softly. “Because I do like you. And I don’t know what I’m doing either.”

  He steps backward and looks down to the floor, trying to figure out what I just told him.

  “You told me that you don’t understand what you’re doing…how to talk to me?” I say, looking into his wounded but hopeful eyes. “Well neither do I. I’ve never figured out how I should act or what men really want from me…you know, after they leave.”