Player - The Elite Part Three

by KB Winters

  Talia stepped forward and snaked an arm around Henry, before offering me her hand, palm down. It was extended for me to kiss the back of her hand. An offer that I declined.

  “Good afternoon to you both,” I said, pulling open the glass door.

  They both went out into the lot, without so much as a glance back, and to any onlookers, whatever business we had shared appeared to be concluded, but the twisting in my gut told me that wasn’t the last time I’d see them.

  I didn’t know what kind of game Henry was playing, but I got the feeling that whatever it was, it was far from over.

  Chapter Eight

  “How did it go?” Lana asked, hustling to catch up with me once Henry and Talia had departed. “Are they here to build a resort?”

  I kept walking. “No.”

  At least, not as long as I had something to say about it. The boost in tourism didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t going to help line that man’s pockets.

  “That’s too bad…well, I mean, I know the people that live here will be relieved, but for us, a resort like the one in Stallion Bay could really make a difference!” Lana babbled on as she did her best to match my long strides. “What happened on the flight? You were gone longer than I’d expected…”

  “Lana!” I barked. “Enough! That little shit show just cost me half a day, and I have work to do. Hold my calls.”

  She stopped walking and I stormed off, mad at myself for losing my patience with her.

  Inside my office, I slammed the door closed and threw myself down on the leather couch. I pressed my eyes closed and drew in a long breath. “What the fuck was that all about?” I asked myself, my mind still rampant with possibilities.

  Had Talia been a prostitute all along? Had she been lying when she said she didn’t know me? Was there some other reason she was helping Henry? And why—why the hell—did he care so much about a fucking plane?

  None of it made any sense, and trying to figure it out was only bringing on a nasty stress headache.

  I pushed off the couch and stormed back out of the office. I needed fresh air and a massive dose of caffeine. There was one place that could provide both.

  Twenty minutes later, I stepped inside Carly’s coffee shop and heard her call out a greeting from somewhere in the back. When she appeared at the counter, her smile went wide. “Hey there, handsome. It’s been awhile.”

  I grinned back at her. Carly and I had known each other for some time and, although we’d never taken our relationship further than the flirtations over the coffee shop counter, she always managed to make me feel like her favorite customer. “Afternoon gorgeous. Whatcha got cooking back there? Something smells good.”

  She laughed. “I’m glad you can only smell it. Let’s just say, it was a batch of banana bread gone wrong.”

  “You always say that,” I teased. “Come on, let me try some. I’ll be the judge.”

  She considered my request for a moment, before scurrying around the corner into the kitchen. She returned with a slice of still steaming bread. I popped a piece into my mouth and immediately gagged.

  Carly erupted into giggles and poured me a big glass of water. “Told ya so,” she said, passing it over.

  “What the hell, Carly?” I patted my tongue with a napkin and guzzled the water.

  “I got a little carried away with the salt…” she confessed, still giggling.

  “A little?”

  She shrugged. “My mind was elsewhere.”

  “Good God…like Mars?”

  Her eyes were dancing. “Something like that.”

  I leaned on the counter. “All right, Carly. Who is he?”

  She cracked up again and I couldn’t help but join in. “All right, you keep your secrets, but he better be good to you or I’ll kick his ass.”

  “Deal.” She winked and crossed to the espresso machine to make my almond spice latte. It was a creation she’d made up back when I’d still been in the service, and home visiting. She’d just opened the coffee shop and was trying to perfect her menu. The almond spice latte was no longer on the menu, but she always made it for me when I stopped in. “How are things up at the museum? You’re usually too busy to come see me. Slow day?”

  I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Not exactly. I just needed some space.”

  “Aha.” She set my drink down on the counter and waved off my attempt to pay. “It’s on me. You deserve it after my little prank.”

  I pushed the twenty into her tip jar and swatted at her fingers when she tried to fish it out and return it.

  “Hey, let me ask you something,” I said, after licking the foam from my top lip, left behind from my first heavenly sip. “Have you heard anything about a resort being built here in Holiday Cove?”

  Carly nodded. “Well, the rumor’s been swirling for a while. I think they even had a town hall about it at the chamber of commerce not too long ago. That was the last I’d heard about it, anyways.”

  “What do you think about the idea?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, sighing. “It would be great for business, obviously, but at the same time, it would ruin everything that makes Holiday Cove so amazing. The quiet, peaceful beaches, low traffic, and safe streets. It wouldn’t be worth the extra money in a lot of ways.”

  I nodded and took another long sip.

  “What’s got ya thinking about all that?” Carly asked, propping her elbows on the counter between the register and the pastry case.

  “I had a…client—” I hesitated at even calling Henry—or Talia—by that title, “—that’s involved with the company that built the one up in Stallion Bay. They did a fly over and some of the things said after…”

  “Hmmm. Interesting. This was today?”

  “Yeah.”

  Carly absorbed the information thoughtfully. After a moment, she brightened up. “Well, neither you or me are the type to wave cardboard signs in some protest, so I guess what happens, happens. Right?”

  “Yeah.” I still hadn’t pieced it all together yet. In reality, only Talia had gone on the fly over, and Henry hadn’t said anything directly about a resort, but there was still a nagging feeling that it was all tied together. “Well, thanks for this, Carly. As always, it’s perfection in an insulated cup.”

  Carly grinned and straightened. “You’re welcome. And hey, don’t be such a stranger around here, all right?”

  “I won’t.” I waved and ducked out the front door, pausing to let two ladies pass through, and then wandered down the sidewalk, doing my best to push the events of the strange afternoon out of my mind.

  * * * *

  It was half past ten, when I made my way out of my office that night. The train wreck of an afternoon had thrown me off track, and as a result, I was behind on paperwork when closing time rolled around. A late night in my office was the last thing that I felt like doing, but, thanks to the extra-large latte from Carly, I’d motored on well into the night. Lana had left me alone ever since I snapped at her, and had even ducked out earlier than she usually did. I knew I’d have to apologize in order to get things back to normal, but I hadn’t wanted to stop and do it before she left for the night.

  When everything was done, I swung my leather jacket up from my chair, and went through the museum, flicking off lights room by room, as I went. When I got out to the main warehouse, I stalked over to the lighting panel, and ran my hand down the series of switches.

  When all the lights were out, I was swallowed up in the silent darkness. The atmosphere bordered on creepy when it was pitch blank and abandoned. The place was too big, too quiet, and when alone, it was disconcerting.

  Then again, I’d been in much more unnerving situations.

  I was about to set the security system, when I remembered that I’d left a folder with resumes at the front desk. Cursing myself, I crossed back, and clicked on the overhead light. I located the folder that Lana had labeled for me.

  My finger hovered on the light switch, when I stopped, frozen, at the sound
of high heels hitting the concrete floor. My stomach dropped out the bottom as I turned and found Talia grinning back at me.

  “Hello stranger,” she purred, running a finger down the lapel of my leather jacket.

  I took a step back. “I don’t have time for whatever this is about.”

  Her brown eyes sparked with an edge of danger. “Hot date waiting on you?”

  I crossed my arms, putting a barrier between us. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Talia.”

  “Jealousy?” She laughed, each trill a sharp, staccato sound. “No, no, my dear, you’re getting it twisted. Women like me, we don’t get jealous. I’d have figured you had picked up on that already.”

  My patience was unraveling quickly. Talia had been a game since the first time we met, but this new phase had a darkness that left me uneasy. “Women like you? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She scoffed. “Henry’s whore. A thing to be bargained and sold.”

  I was startled by the raw hate in her voice. It was the first sign of real emotion I’d seen from her.

  “You seemed fine with that when you were in my office earlier,” I replied, not letting her tone sway me.

  Her eyes drifted from mine. “I suppose I’m good at what I do…”

  “And what is that?” I asked, my sharp tone demanding her attention. “What is it that you do for him? Besides the obvious.” I flicked a glance down her body, making my meaning clear.

  If she was ashamed, she didn’t show it. If anything, my insult only spurred her on. Her dark eyes flashed. “I didn’t come here to talk about me, Aaron. I came here to warn you.”

  “Does Henry know you’re here?”

  She shook her head. “Listen, I get that you’re mad at me. I…mislead you…but if you can set that aside, I can help you.”

  I uncrossed my arms and pocketed my hands. “I’m listening.”

  “As I told you, Henry is the kind of man who gets what he wants. He came here with one point, to see if you’d bite, and sell him the plane.” She paused. “You could have named any price. He would have paid.”

  “But why? The plane isn’t worth anything to him.”

  “It was all a test, Aaron.”

  I arched a brow. “A test? For what?”

  “He wanted to see if you could be bought,” Talia explained.

  “And now that he knows I can’t?”

  She shrugged. “He’ll find another way to get what he wants.”

  “And what is it that he wants?”

  “This place,” she said, waving her hand around the museum.

  My heart flapped into a frenzy. “You said this wasn’t about land development.”

  “Actually, I didn’t.” She wiggled a finger at me. “You asked, and I changed the subject.”

  I groaned under my breath. “Is it always like this with you? One step forward, two steps back?”

  “He’s going to make you an offer, Aaron, but it’s not what you think. He’s going to offer you a partnership. He’s going to try and bring you into the fold. He’ll trot out some lawyers and consultants who will make it sound glamorous and amazing, like something from a dream, but it’s important that you keep your head.”

  “Is that what happened to you?” I asked, my voice soft.

  “Let’s just say, I’ve seen him in action more than once,” Talia replied, her own tone softening. “Aaron, I like you, okay? Don’t let him sweep you away into his fantasy land.”

  “Well, I appreciate it, but trust me, I’m not getting caught in anyone’s fantasy land, and I sure as hell am not selling this place or any of its contents. I don’t care what he dangles my way.”

  Talia nodded slowly. “For your sake, I hope you’re right.”

  She spun on her heels and walked out of the museum, leaving behind nothing but the clicking echo of her heels on the concrete, and a whole new horde of doubts in the back of my mind.

  Chapter Nine

  As the weeks went by, Talia’s warning faded from my memory. I hadn’t heard from her since the night she’d shown up after closing at the museum—and hadn’t heard from Henry either, so I had to assume that either he’d changed his mind on his own—or that she’d somehow intervened to kill the deal before it went any farther.

  Whatever the hell had gone down, I didn’t really care. I was done with the drama and ready to get on with my own plans. Plans that didn’t require Henry O’Keefe’s money or connections.

  “Lana, what’s this blocked out section on the calendar?” I kept my finger on the screen as I twisted in my chair to look at Lana, who was seated on the couch in my office, taking notes as we went over the plans for the week ahead.

  Lana stood and hovered over my shoulder to see what I was talking about. “Oh, I meant to talk to you about that…”

  I didn’t like the sound of that.

  I spun around in the office chair and Lana jumped back, narrowly avoiding contact with my legs as they swung around. “Mr. O’Keefe—”

  I groaned and leaned forward, burying my face in my hands. She stopped short, the rest of her explanation dissolving into a nervous stammer.

  All of Talia’s words came rushing back to me, practically shouting in my head, and I ran a hand over my face, willing it all to stop. “Cancel it, Lana. I’m not interested in his pitch.”

  “But, Aaron, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime! If someone like him is interested in a meeting with you…”

  “I’m not interested,” I grit out, my teeth bared.

  Lana’s eyes went wide, but she nodded. “Okay. I’ll cancel it.”

  She started for the door when a new layer of reality settled over me. “Wait.”

  She skidded to a stop at the door.

  “I’ll go.”

  To her credit, Lana didn’t ask for a reason behind my abrupt change of heart. She gave a firm nod and left the room.

  “Fuck!” I picked up a pen, just to slam it down onto the desk. The noise wasn’t as satisfying as I wanted it to be, so I slammed it again.

  The problem with O’Keefe was that he wasn’t going to go away. Not until I stood my ground and made him back the fuck off.

  So, that’s what I’d do.

  I’d never backed away from a battle before, and this was going to be no different. Aaron Rosen wasn’t a fuckin’ pussy and stuffed shirts like Henry O’Keefe didn’t intimidate me.

  And I was about to prove it.

  * * * *

  The afternoon of the meeting arrived and, as Talia had predicted, I found myself in a board room with half a dozen players in the big leagues. They were all dressed in priceless Italian suits and probably all had a set of keys to some dumbass luxury car in their pocket.

  It didn’t matter to me.

  I wasn’t going to sell the museum. There was no dollar amount that O’Keefe or any of his cronies could put on it to make me change my mind. That place was a huge piece of my heart and soul, and there was no way they were going to take it away from me.

  I’d dressed down, wearing my same old pair of torn jeans, my signature black t-shirt, and my worn black leather jacket. I was shielded by an unbreakable wall of confidence and was capable of matching every mother fuckin’ big shot in the room without the disguise of fancy ass clothes.

  “We’re all so glad you could make it,” Henry said, after introducing his pack of cronies. He had his polished persona turned on, and in the back of my mind, I wondered how long it would take before his parking lot brawler side came out for some fun.

  I nodded to everyone and took a seat. I was willing to play the game.

  For now.

  Henry took the place at the head of the table, and as soon as he got into position, the lights in the room dimmed thanks to an assistant positioned by the door, and then a screen of data appeared on the wall behind him, projected from a computer in the center of the table. “We’ll respect your time, Mr. Rosen,” he said, giving me his false smile. He clasped his hands together. “It’s not a big secret that my offshoo
t business, Vantage Real Estate, has plans to move into Holiday Cove and establish a luxury high rise community. As of right now, there are no firm dates for when construction is set to begin, but it will be before the year is out. So, right now, we’re working to partner with the established businesses in the community to get them on board and leverage that support to get the rest of the town to rally in support of this project.”

  He paused, waiting for me to say something, like I was too stupid to keep up.

  “So, what are we talking? You want the museum to hand out coupon vouchers for all your fancy new clients?” I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

  If Henry was upset, he didn’t show it. He laughed at my joke and the rest of the table joined in. “Not exactly. What I—we—had in mind is a little grander than all that.” He gestured to the screen behind him. “This is a sample of data we’ve collected, a projection, for the museum profits once the high rise is fully occupied. You see, a lot of the people who buy the condos will be investors who rent the spaces out, most of which will be seasonal, vacation rentals. Which obviously would raise the amount of foot traffic you’d have through the doors.”

  “Great. Appreciate the heads up, I’ll make sure to look out for the crowd,” I said, my patience wearing thin as I waited for him to get to the point.

  Henry maintained his smile, but it was starting to fracture. “It’s not quite that simple, Mr. Rosen,” he interjected, his tone snagged as he said my name. “What I want to do is completely re-brand the museum. Give it a face lift to maximize the new business and launch it into a new stratosphere on the profit charts.”

  He flicked to a new slide, and while I kept a neutral face, my eyes nearly bugged out at the dollar amounts displayed on the screen. I’d managed to bring the business my father started from a hobby, only found in local magazines, and a few travel website listings on obscure websites, to a full-fledged tourist attraction. Sure, things had grown and expanded, quickly, but the figures on the screen were ten times higher than anything I’d even dreamed up for the future.

  “As we talked about, on my visit a few weeks back, I have a passion for aircraft and aviation. You’ve done a great job, and I’m ready to invest and take it to the next level.”