Hate the Game

by Holly Hall

  “Your mask?” Suit Guy Number One said, and I moved aside to retrieve the mask from my clutch. Five seconds of being here and I’d almost blown my cover, literally the one merit about tonight. I was throwing it back to my childhood dream of being a spy.

  On a more serious note, I’d set a goal to get in and get out in under an hour. All I needed was to figure out what made this prospect tick.

  Gregory, I reminded myself as I tied the ribbons of the mask behind my head. I couldn’t think of him as simply a client’s prospect anymore, a list of attributes typed on paper. He was a real dude with real motivations and weaknesses whom I’d soon be meeting.

  Officially masked and undercover, I sidled up to the bar and was immediately tended to by a sharply dressed bartender. Scratch that—a sommelier, as he so airily said. A wine expert. Give me a few bottles of wine and I could become an expert too.

  At drinking it, that is.

  “I’ll take whatever red you recommend,” I said. I was wearing red, so there’d be no consequence if I spilled. While he poured, I scanned the room for Rebecca. She told me she’d be wearing purple with a peacock-feather mask. There were plenty of people milling about the room, all bedecked in baubles and dressed to the nines, but when I received my glass, I still hadn’t spotted her.

  I couldn’t very well hang out with the wine guy all night, so I wandered over to the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. It offered views of the buildings lining Michigan Avenue, and above it all was a sunset sky; worn denim-blue streaked by peach clouds. When I dragged my gaze from the tranquil scene, I spotted a long turquoise feather bobbing over platinum curls.

  “Rebecca?” I asked, approaching her and the men she was standing with. Her familiar smile turned my way.

  “Ava, hi!”

  Oh, okay. So much for being covert, I thought as she hugged me daintily.

  “Gregory, you remember me telling you about my friend, Ava.”

  “I do. Nice to meet you, Ava. Gregory Wilshire,” the man across from me said, shaking my hand. From what I could see around the borders of his mask, he reminded me of a heavier George Clooney. Salt-and-pepper hair with slightly downturned eyes and smile lines.

  “Nice to meet you, too.”

  “Rebecca said you two went to school together at USC.”

  My eyes flitted to her before I could stop myself. US-freakin-C? I didn’t know anything about USC. You would think she’d have discussed my alter-ego from California with me before committing to this. All Rebecca had to offer was a wide smile, as if that helped anything.

  “Right. Yes. Undergrad. We had some good times, didn’t we?” I nudged her with an elbow and she laughed girlishly.

  I hadn’t planned on being confined with these people and having to participate in conversations I likely would know nothing about, but I lucked out. The table we were assigned to for dinner was occupied by a few big personalities who loved recanting the events they’d attended. Someone was having a building at a university named after them for their contributions.

  “Fun, isn’t it?” Rebecca asked quietly between courses. She seemed content to observe as well, offering a giggle at all the right moments or touching Gregory on the arm when he’d said something clever. Either she’d been practicing or she was no stranger to this world.

  “You could say that.” I spoke through the corner of my mouth. “You could’ve warned me I was a USC alum.”

  She hid her smile. “I’m sorry, it just came out on the way here. It’s cool though, right? Being Cinderella for an evening?”

  I didn’t know about Cinderella, and I wasn’t down to lose a shoe at the end of the night. “Makes for good people-watching,” I said.

  As dinner wrapped and a band arranged themselves on the dais, Rebecca excused herself. Before I registered she was going to the restroom, she was already gone, and I was left to fend for myself among the tycoons.

  Gregory looked over and, seeing me there alone, offered a smile. He motioned to my drink. “Looks like you’re empty. Can I accompany you to the bar?” he asked.

  I nodded. Hopefully I didn’t look as reluctant as I felt.

  “It’s good that you came. Rebecca has so few friends in the city that I haven’t had many chances to see this side of her.”

  I didn’t know anything about that, but hopefully I could wing it enough that he’d believe I was more familiar with my supposed friend. “You too. I know you don’t have much wiggle room in your schedule for socializing, but she’s always said great things about you.”

  He rapped a knuckle on the bar absentmindedly while we waited for refills, a pleasant expression on his face. I was sizing him up, wondering what my approach would be, when I spotted a trifold on the bar. It was an informative write-up about the foundation and their mission.

  “So, is your interest in inner-city education a professional or personal one?” I asked, and when his eyes narrowed to slits, I wondered if it was the wrong question. Then he crossed his feet at the ankles and relaxed against the bar.

  “Personal. Believe it or not I used to be one of those kids.” He pointed to a photo of school-aged children on the trifold. “Luckily I had a few teachers who were invested in their students despite the lack of funding, the nearly non-existent salary, the thankless job of simply being a teacher—especially in that environment. But imagine if I hadn’t had those influences. Most of those kids don’t.” He thumbed his lip and got a faraway look in his eye.

  I smiled kindly and nodded, encouraging him to go on. He pointed at me. “You’re probably thinking all this is an excuse for everyone to throw their money around and show off their latest cosmetic surgery, or catch everyone up on their successes. And it is, for some of these people. But for a select few of us, it’s one of the ways we make our work matter—our hours at the office, the chief positions at large corporations—what would it all be for if we didn’t have a way to give back?”

  “And this is the best way to do that,” I said, because that was what he was implying.

  “No. Providing bodies for the volunteer programs, actively participating in mentoring, working alongside those kids—that would be the best way to give back. But there’s the issue of time. Time is money, and without money we wouldn’t even be here.” He gestured around the room. Our drinks were served and he fished a bill from his pocket and slid it to the bartender.

  “So any ol’ person could make a difference.”

  “Exactly. It doesn’t take millions of dollars, it takes heart. Sacrifice. Anyway, I’ll step off my soapbox for the night. I get too passionate about these things.” He caught someone’s eye over my head and flashed a sparkling grin, and I turned to see Rebecca crossing the ballroom.

  “Bonding?” she asked, cozying up to him and glancing between us.

  “Yes. Just talking philanthropy. Boring stuff.” He placed the gin and tonic he’d ordered in her hand, and I got the impression he thought the subject didn’t interest Rebecca, although clearly it was something he was passionate about.

  Before I could pull her aside, the band began playing and the noise in the room skyrocketed.

  “You promised me a few laps around the dance floor,” Rebecca insisted, nudging Gregory. I was on the verge of panicking, thinking I’d have to fend for myself for an unforeseeable amount of time, when he said, “I did, but first we’ve got to find a partner for Ava.”

  “Oh, no.” I made to wave my hands like it was no big deal, until my wine sloshed in the glass. “I have to . . . I have a thing. I wasn’t planning to stay late.”

  “Please? One dance? Come on, live a little,” Rebecca chided, and I shifted from one foot to the other. These heels made my feet feel like they’d gone eight rounds with a title fighter.

  “Yeah, live a little,” a familiar voice echoed, and my back went ramrod straight. The sight of the stranger who’d just joined our semicircle didn’t match the voice I’d come to know.

  The man offering his hand to me was wearing a slim-fitting tuxedo like a second
skin and a simple, black mask that covered the top half of his face. There was just enough uncovered for me to identify those gold-green irises, the buzzed haircut, the shading of stubble and strong cheekbones.

  Theo. But, how?

  Everything had quieted, at least in my mind, and just as the setting came back into focus around me and I remembered where I was, Theo said, “May I?”, and Rebecca all but offered me up like a sacrificial lamb, pushing me into his arms. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to acknowledge him as a friend, so instead I kept my mouth shut. I was struck speechless anyway.

  As graceful as a ballroom dancer, Theo swept me into his arms. He moved into a simple set of steps that I just barely followed, though I stomped on his feet and no doubt scuffed his shoes more than once. He’d laced a hand in mine and the other was on the bare skin of my back. It was grounding after a night of unfamiliarity.

  “Where in the world did you come from?” I hissed.

  That smirk appeared. Of course it did. “The front doors.”

  “Okay, but why are you here?”

  “Perks of being friends with the event planner, who also needed a date.”

  I looked all around, wondering if I’d see someone on the sidelines shooting blow-darts at me with her glare. “Does she not need a dance partner?”

  “I’m not her type. Blue dress.” He inclined his head toward the far side of the dance floor.

  “Lucky me.”

  “It’s usually me who’s saying that. And you look . . . incredible. The pajamas were my favorite, the bikini a close second, but this. . .”

  “Compliments of a few hair and makeup tutorials and a rent-a-dress service.”

  “Compliments of you wearing the hell out of that rent-a-dress,” he countered. I dipped my chin. I still wasn’t immune to flattery. “So, which one was the victim? The woman or the guy?”

  I feigned exasperation. “Excuse you, I am a professional. I shouldn’t have told you anything about that.”

  “But you’re working your magic, right?”

  “I think so. I hope so. I’d hate to think this night was a bust.”

  “Definitely not. And if it was, it’s still early. There’s time for it to redeem itself.” One song ended and the next began, a slower one. We shortened our steps to match the music. “How long until I can steal you away?”

  I pretended to think on it while something swelled inside my rib cage. “I need to touch base with my client, but I think I’ve done about as much as I can. Twenty minutes?”

  “I’ll meet you out front.”

  It was easy to lose myself in the moment and forget where we were and the circumstances that’d brought us here. His arms were an anchor in an unfamiliar sea of power and wealth. We swayed along for the remainder of the song and, when it was over, parted ways like we were two people who’d only come together for a turn around the dance floor.

  I sought out Rebecca, who was standing on the fringes of a spirited debate over different brands of Scotch. Or years of Scotch. The terminology was soaring right over my head.

  “I think I’m going to head out,” I said. To my relief, she nodded and tugged at Gregory’s elbow to get his attention. “Thank you so much for the evening,” I told him. “It was great to meet you.”

  “The pleasure’s mine. I was happy to talk more about the star of the evening.” He indicated the banner at the front of the ballroom.

  “You’ll call me later?” I added to Rebecca, and when she leaned in for a gentle hug, she said, “See you Thursday.” The date of our next consult, of course.

  Then I was leaving the room and striding down the hallway at a speed that tested the limits of my heels. I couldn’t care less. The tension I’d held in my shoulders, thanks to the efforts of keeping up my polished persona for the evening, retreated with every step I took away from the event and toward Theo. Whatever he had in mind when it came to “stealing me away,” I was certain it’d be preferable to what I was leaving behind.

  I recognized his silhouette where he stood outside the doors, facing the street. Broad shoulders encased in that tapered suit jacket, hands in his pockets. His head turned toward me when I reached him, and I saw he’d lost the mask at some point. I pulled the ribbons from my own and stowed it in my clutch. “What did you have in mind?”

  Theo motioned to an idling car. “I’m so glad you asked.”

  He recited the address of a place near Navy Pier to the driver and we stole away, through the night. “Surprised?” Theo asked. The lights streaking past the windows lit his amused expression.

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “I hope you didn’t mind my stepping in. I probably robbed someone of a dance partner.”

  “You did cut in line, but I’ll give you some slack,” I teased. “Since you saved me from more awkward small talk and all. I’m glad you showed up.”

  “Me too. I’ll admit, I second-guessed myself all the way up until I saw you. I thought it might come off as creepy.”

  “How did you know it wasn’t?”

  “You didn’t run away when you saw me. That was convincing enough.”

  “I couldn’t blow my cover.” I nudged him in the ribs.

  Everything seemed softer in the dimness of the backseat, with the bokeh effect of lights in the background making everything appear dreamy when he looked back at me. Like I was on a movie set and he was a fellow actor playing my love interest. That situation would actually make more sense than us being here right now. My stomach still did pirouettes when I saw him, but I no longer felt the need to smack my own forehead after recanting our conversations after the fact.

  When the car stopped at a gravel lot bordered by food trucks, I couldn’t stop a smile from hijacking my face. It was a little embarrassing, but that was what cheap and delicious food did to me. Lit me up like a damn Christmas tree. Theo was full of tricks. Never mind that I’d just had a five-course meal at a hotel I couldn’t afford a room in.

  “What are you having?” I asked.

  “You first.”

  “Hmm.” I tapped my chin, but I didn’t know why I was pretending. There was no debate. “Tacos it is.”

  We ambled over to one of the trucks and placed an order for tacos and two bottles of water. I was tired, my feet were killing me, and at the moment I didn’t give a flying you-know-what about calories.

  Five minutes later, we were seated at a picnic table with our paper boats in front of us, loaded down with the good stuff.

  “How is it?” he asked, once I’d taken a bite.

  “Delicious. Far better than whatever they served at that place.”

  “You need to try Tex-Mex, then.” Theo sucked the grease from his fingers. “You never told me how you got into that line of work,” he added.

  “On accident, like everything else in life.” I chuckled. It was a little cynical, maybe, but it was mostly true.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Come on. I’m sure it didn’t take long for you to tell I’m no charmer. I’m not the first person who comes to mind when you think ‘Relationship Consultant.’”

  “Not true.”

  “You’re being nice.”

  “You sure charmed me.” He indicated himself with a thumb and I rolled my eyes.

  “That’s flattering, and thank you for that, but I still don’t understand why you’re sitting beside me right now and it’s something that keeps me up at night, wondering.”

  “I keep you up at night?”

  “It was a joke,” I said, and hoped it was convincing.

  “You don’t need to wonder why I’m with you.” He swallowed, setting down his last taco. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  My laugh was abrupt. “It’s absolutely not obvious.”

  “You’re full of optimism, even if it’s the self-deprecating type, and you have this, I don’t know, naïveté. You’re innocent, in a way. But jaded. Like you’ve been hurt, maybe more than once, but you won’t let that affect how you see people.”
/>   “And that’s good because. . .?”

  “There’s a lot of ugly in this city. I know because I spent my first year in Chicago focusing on it. I hated being here. You’re a change of pace.”

  “Gee.” I fanned my face dramatically, but my flush was legit. “If nothing else comes from this night, at least I’ll know I’m full of foolish optimism.”

  He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.

  “Let me guess, I’m ridiculous?”

  “The most ridiculous. But this is what I’m talking about right here.” He tapped an index finger on the worn wood of the table. “I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth. It’s not calculated or measured, it’s just pure—”

  “Word vomit,” I finished, because I couldn’t help myself.

  “Truth. I was going to say truth.”

  I blotted my lips with a napkin. “How are you single?”

  “Is that a genuine question or a jab at how much I’m butchering my declaration of like for you?”

  “Genuine question.”

  “Because I’m the exact opposite of you. Where you shine, I glower. Where you exude optimism and innocence, I only exude negativity. You know exactly who you are.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I know who I want to be.”

  “But you’re so secure.” I pushed myself back from the table, getting a better look at him. “You’re, like, always smirking and confident. And happy.”

  “Smirking, yes. Happy? I don’t know. I’ve thrown myself into my work the past couple of years. I work, I come home, I work some more, I do it all over again the next day. I’ve taken on all the responsibilities I have at the gym because I don’t want to think about all the other shit.”

  “Your . . . fiancée?” I asked softly. I treaded carefully so as not to disturb his newly unearthed truths.

  “Yeah.” His usual expression turned overcast. “You don’t un-see the moment you walk in on your soon-to-be wife banging her boss.”

  “Wait.” I held up a hand. “Her boss? At your own apartme—”

  “Yeah. Her family was well-off, but she’d taken this job to prove herself to her parents. I guess that’s how I brushed off the fact she spent so much time away from the condo. Maybe she wasn’t moving up the corporate ladder as fast as she wanted? Shit, I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his hair. “I’d been working a lot, trying to get the gym off the ground. Trying to make something of myself so her dad would know I could take care of her. I guess that night they’d gotten careless. Or maybe she’d wanted me to find them, I don’t know.”