Hate the Game

by Holly Hall

  Because although my brain had adjusted to handling Theo, I wasn’t sure my heart could do the same.

  Chapter 12

  Ava

  “I have to say, Ava, you’ve taken this project by the horns. I look forward to reading your recaps when you submit them.”

  I hadn’t expected Leigh to drop in while I was proposing my workout program, but she’d marched over to demand something from Mona and caught the tail end of my explanation.

  “Oh. Thank you!”

  “I’m impressed. I hope you see this through.”

  It was the undercut I should’ve expected, but it couldn’t put a dent in the satisfaction I gleaned from her praise. There was always something Leigh did to make us feel less-than. Inadequate. Pursuant of a perfection that didn’t exist among mere mortals. And while normally I’d retract my head into my shell, or roll over and show my belly in submission, I was determined to nail my part of the segment. The fact that I hadn’t committed to anything besides my job in years was beside the point.

  “I plan on it,” I answered, straightening to my full height. All five feet of it. I’d been working for years with hardly a word of recognition in return, and it was about time I demanded some respect, even if it was from my boss. I made a mental note to dig out my take-no-crap heels from the back of my closet. Maybe they’d help.

  “A word, please, when you’re finished with Mona,” Leigh said, not waiting for an answer before she turned her back and headed to her office. And just like that, my head shot right back into my shell.

  I watched her go, swallowing hard, then turned back to Mona. “Anything else you need from me?”

  “Nope. Just bill us for your first month’s membership to,” she squinted at her computer to read the URL I’d sent her, “Grind Fitness, and make sure to document anything notable from your sessions.”

  “Sure. Thanks, Mona.”

  I gathered myself before stepping into Leigh’s office. “Close the door behind you,” she said in greeting.

  The door made a smug little snick when it shut, like it was mocking me.

  “I’m concerned about your workload. You can go ahead and have a seat,” she added briskly. This couldn’t be good. “Or, more accurately, your balancing of it.”

  “Oh, I, uh, I’d welcome any feedback you have.”

  Her gaze was scrutinizing. She was checking for holes in my nonexistent armor. “We have twenty-seven clients in our dating program. It’s our responsibility to make sure each one receives the kind of quality attention they expect from LoveLeigh.”

  “Right. Of course.” I nodded.

  “I need to know you’re as dedicated to your role as I think you are, because although you’re the one in the field, guiding these clients through the relationship landscape, it’s my name they’ll remember if the job we’re doing is sub-par.”

  “I wouldn’t—”

  “I’m concerned about retention,” she interrupted.

  “Retention?”

  “Clients coming back to us. Choosing us,” she enunciated slowly.

  I shifted in my seat. “If we’re identifying and promoting the right attributes in our RC clients, and the relationships are succeeding, wouldn’t the client no longer need our services?”

  Leigh angled her head at me. “While that may be true, it’s not realistic to think all these couples are succeeding.” She swiveled in her chair and removed a sheet of paper from her filing cabinet, then placed it in front of me. When I bent closer, I saw it was a column of names. Clients I’d worked with this year.

  “This one just got engaged,” I pointed out, then subsequently snapped my mouth closed when I saw the look on her face. This meeting wasn’t for my benefit, I concluded. It was for hers. She needed to blow off some steam, and I was the scapegoat.

  “I’m concerned about our expansion into phone consultations. That was a big goal for the year, but until I see these numbers improve, I won’t feel comfortable launching that program.”

  “Have you considered taking on another RC?”

  Her gaze iced over. Wrong question. “I can’t throw any more resources at this than I have already. Now, can you handle what I’ve delegated to you or not?”

  “Yeah,” I croaked. My throat had closed the minute I sensed the threat behind her words. If the Relationship branch was at risk, then my job was at risk. And if there was ever a wrong time to bring up the prospect of me moving into content, this was it.

  I left her office with more self-doubt than I’d had in months. Of course, Eddie was waiting for me with his chin in his hands when I dropped into my chair.

  “What was that about?”

  I stared at him, dazed. “I think she just threatened to fire me. I was too busy trying to explain myself without sounding defensive to think straight.”

  He waved a hand and made duck lips. “She can’t fire you.”

  “I’m pretty sure she can.”

  “There would be no Relationship department without you, and seeing as how nobody here even understands your job, I’d say you’re just fine.”

  “No use stressing over it, anyway. What did you pick for your exercise program?”

  “Pole-dancing.”

  “Seriously? Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because you’d die of embarrassment in the first five minutes, and then what the hell would Leigh do with her bullshit health segment?”

  “Eddie. Positive thinking, yields positive words, yields positive actions,” Leigh sang as she breezed by on her way to the breakroom.

  “Is she some freak with crazy-good hearing, or am I just that loud?”

  “You’re just that loud. Although sometimes I suspect the office is bugged.”

  “Don’t sweat it, hon. You’re not going anywhere.”

  That was exactly the problem. I wasn’t going anywhere, but I was stuck right where Leigh wanted me to be.

  The bright side of the week came when Theo texted me with a “proposition,” as he’d called it, and that proposition was a meeting to plan my upcoming workout sessions. I found out, after accepting, that he meant for it to take place over dinner.

  Dinner, alone, with Theo.

  Thursday evening had me dumping the entire contents of my closet on the carpet in search of the perfect outfit. I didn’t know where we were going; I had no idea what to expect from a dinner involving two friends of opposite sexes. But if anyone knew what to do about that second issue, it was Holland.

  I dialed her from my floor, where I was going through my rejection pile. Maybe there was something I’d overlooked.

  Holland, after listening to my rant, said, “It’s definitely a date,” which did nothing to quell my rising panic.

  “No! What? Don’t tell me that! I just talked myself off the ledge by saying it wasn’t a date.”

  “Just saying. Wear something sexy, and his reaction will let you know whether it’s a date.”

  “I’ll take the next option, please.”

  “Tonight is when you’ll set the tone for the relationship. What message do you want to send?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, then slowly shut it. What message did I want to send? “That’s way too much pressure.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “That’s complicated.”

  “It’s really not. When we get our head out of the way, the answer becomes quite simple. Without all the who, what, why, or how, do you like him? What’s your knee-jerk response?”

  “Yes,” I said, and it felt like I’d just purged my biggest secret.

  “See? Why was that so hard?”

  “Because, in no world could this work.”

  A long sigh. “Ava, I love you, but I don’t know how you’re not exhausted, with the way your mind works. The single guy who lives in your building keeps coming up with excuses to see you, and you’re still denying there’s anything there? You might be a little oblivious, but you’re not stupid.”

  I released a breath. She had a point. Whatever wa
s motivating Theo, he was consistently initiating these meet-ups. And he wanted to see me again tonight. “Okay,” I squeaked.

  “Yes! Now remember what I said? You’re able to set up your clients, why should it be so different for you?”

  Because it’s easy to recognize everyone else’s merits, but it was near impossible to showcase my own. “Okay, so, back to the wardrobe thing,” I said.

  “Do you have a black dress?”

  “You’re really firing on all cylinders, aren’t you? A dress seems a little drastic for a first date.”

  “Ha! You said date.”

  “Moving on,” I said firmly.

  “Fine. A dress will work for most settings. So throw one on, add some heels, and you’re good.”

  “A dress and heels? If that’s not sending a message, I don’t know what is.”

  “Of course you’re sending a message. You’re letting him know what’s on the menu tonight. Wear the dress.”

  “I can’t with you.” Despite my words, I reached up and slid some hangers aside, revealing a wrap dress I hadn’t even considered. It had a v-neckline that would show just a hint of cleavage, and the tie around the middle would accentuate my waist.

  “Yeah, but you’re eyeing the dress now, aren’t you?”

  “You’re insufferable. But I’m not sold on the heels.”

  “Wedges will be perfect. Now get out of your own head and have a good time. Goal for the night—”

  “Have a good time, got it. Now I’m hanging up before you start listening in on conversations and telling me what to say.”

  I went to hang up, but Holland threw in one last “Get you some!” before I could. Then, with my stomach flipping like breakfast at a pancake house, I slid on the dress.

  “Wow,” Theo said from my doorway, and while normally I’d question the meaning behind the word, I took his appreciative expression at face value. He liked the dress. Maybe he liked me in the dress, too.

  I looked down, flaring the skirt with one hand. “I wasn’t sure where we were going but figured a dress was a safe bet.”

  “Safe?” he said, biting his lip to quell a smile.

  “As in, fashion-wise.”

  “I know what you meant, but you’re going to give me a heart attack in that thing.”

  Holland’s comment about the menu came to mind, and I ducked my head before he could see me press my lips together. Play it casual. “That good, huh?”

  I locked up and turned to him before realizing I’d brought myself right into his personal space. He didn’t look like the Theo I’d become acquainted with the past few weeks. He was wearing a button-up shirt and jeans, with rugged, lace-up boots. He’d dressed up. I tried not to think about that as I fumbled with my keys.

  “I like your boots,” I said on the way to the elevator.

  “You do?” He looked down, angling his foot as if he hadn’t considered them. “They’re old, but I don’t get to wear them very often.”

  “Not part of the gym’s dress-code?”

  “Something like that. As of now, I think you’re outshining me.”

  “I haven’t worn this in forever, either.”

  “Something like that deserves to be taken for a spin every now and then.”

  I tried not to grin too widely. The way things were going, my cheeks would soon be cramping.

  When we stepped out onto the sidewalk, there was a car idling at the curb. Theo’s hand met my lower back just briefly as I ducked inside. Long enough that I could appreciate the warmth and weight of his palm against my skin, as if I needed another reminder of the latent chemistry between us.

  Him coming to my door, dressed like that, then helping me into the car was setting a decadent tone for the evening. Decadent, but dangerous all the same. I had to resist the shrill of my inner alarm system.

  Theo could be a good guy, couldn’t he? People found love all the time with others who weren’t shitheads. Unless those shitheads were really good at hiding it, and their true colors were only exposed after cohabitating for a time.

  And I’m back, I thought grimly.

  I realized I’d missed something when I saw Theo watching me expectantly.

  “What? I’m sorry. It’s been a long week.”

  “But you’re in that dress, and I’m in my boots, and we’re going to have a good night.”

  “When you put it that way, we’re basically obligated to.”

  “Right.” When he looked out the window, I took my leisurely time studying his profile, silhouetted against the cityscape. Strong chin, stubble, prominent nose that may have been broken once or twice. It was like Jesus had sent me the heartbreaker trifecta. Why did he have to be my neighbor? Worse, why did he have to be the exact opposite of the person I was meant for?

  “Where are we headed?” I mused.

  “It’s a secret.”

  “Oh?” I sat taller and tried to peer around him, as if I’d find the answer. “What if I’ve already been there?”

  “Then it wouldn’t be that great of a secret, I guess, but I’m hoping you haven’t.”

  I took in our surroundings when the car stopped and we were deposited on the curb at our destination. The only place around was a bookstore, sandwiched between an investment office and a café. If we were getting coffee, I was vastly overdressed.

  “In here,” Theo said, indicating the door of the bookstore.

  I did a 360 on the parquet floor inside, looking around me. For a bookstore, it was extremely small. I didn’t know how this place did enough business to stay open, but the walls were lined, floor-to-ceiling, with books. Old ones, if the state of the spines were any indication. Even stranger than the size was that there was nobody around. No cashier nor cash register in sight.

  “Not much happening in here,” I said with a burst of a laugh, running my finger through a fine layer of dust on the books.

  “So you haven’t been here.” Theo walked around me and pointed to a door topped with a street sign that said Reading Lounge, and the noise from the room beyond was freed once that door was opened—sound-proof, I learned. Through it, we were transported to a funky restaurant with an industrial, steampunk vibe.

  We followed a hostess in suspenders to a tiny table in the middle of it all, and I didn’t see another open seat in sight. It was a mystery how everyone in here knew about this place when I hadn’t the slightest clue. Or maybe it wasn’t. Work occupied nearly every waking moment in my life, leaving little time for the exploration I’d favored when I was new to the city.

  “Cool, huh?” Theo said, taking in my expression.

  I was marveling over everything from the innumerable Edison bulbs to the gears on the wall powering a giant clock. “I love it. But, between you and me, I was excited about the bookstore too.”

  “You’re easy to please.”

  I avoided the innuendo buried in those words and ordered a vodka soda, while Theo ordered a generic beer. “Sounds like you’re the same.”

  “I’m a simple man,” he said, spreading his hands.

  I wanted to know more about that. Namely, how an easy-to-please, kind, hardworking man could make it a year in the city without being snatched up by another woman. “Tell me about Texas,” I said. That’d be a good start.

  Our waiter dropped off the drinks and stood poised to take our order. All my attention had been on the company I was keeping, but Theo knew what he wanted—no surprise there—so I ordered the first thing I saw.

  “There are so many directions I could go with that,” Theo said when we were alone again. “What do you want to know?”

  “Mostly why you left. What brought you to Chicago?”

  He flinched noticeably, his eyes diverting to the label on his beer. Then he looked up and the usual light occupied his gaze once again. “An acquaintance. I, uh, never really considered living in such a large city.”

  I was endlessly curious, but I also didn’t want to be the one to prod old wounds. “What does your family do?”

 
“They own a ranch.”

  “Seriously?”

  He settled his forearms on the table. “Seriously. And no, not everyone in Texas owns a ranch. My grandparents had cattle, and they passed it along to my mom and dad when they got too old to take care of it. Now my sister runs her hippotherapy business out of there.”

  “Hippo-what?”

  “Hippotherapy. She’s a physical therapist, and she uses horses to help people with special needs. There are a ton of benefits to it. She explains it better than I can.”

  “That’s amazing. Although I’ve always been scared of horses.”

  “What?” He bent closer. “How? They’re basically the most majestic creatures on earth. Or that’s what Lennon says, at least.”

  “That may be true, but I can never tell what they’re thinking. They’re so pretty that anything could be going through their mind and you’d have no clue. Do they want you to lick you or eat you? There’s no telling!”

  Theo’s head fell back as he released a laugh. The good kind that fills a room. “They’re not so complex. There are all kinds of signs they give off if they’re thinking something mischievous. Also, horses don’t eat people.”

  “But they do bite. I saw it in a movie once.”

  “That is true. And they kick.”

  “You’re not putting up a strong argument to get me on a horse, Theo,” I said and sipped my drink.

  “I’d love to see you on a horse. How about that?”

  “No you wouldn’t.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Our meals were served and mostly ignored as Theo gave me a rundown of life in Texas without missing a beat. Where he went to college, what he did for fun in his small hometown—which amounted to all the ways he got into trouble in his small hometown—and all the things he missed, being so far away.

  I picked through the seared tuna in my salad. “So why don’t you leave?”

  “Leave here?”

  “If you love Texas so much, what’s keeping you here?”

  “The energy. The history. I’ve never seen anything like it.”