Play to Win

by A. C. Arthur

  “I heard you were back,” Melissa continued, her tone just a hint shy of disdain.

  “I’m not back.” Portia felt the need to clarify. “I’m here on business.”

  That was true, even though there’d been a good amount of unexpected pleasure during this business trip.

  Melissa dismissed that comment with a wave of her free hand. “Whatever,” she said before flipping her hair back behind her shoulder. “I also hear you’re into the porn industry.” She gave a wry laugh. “I have to say that surprised me. I mean, Poor Little Portia, a sex goddess.” Her laughter grew into high-pitched guffaws that caught the attention of two patrons sitting at the counter that faced the front window.

  Immediately uncomfortable at the eyes that had shifted to her, Portia took a slow, deep breath and released it.

  “Can I help you with something?” she asked Melissa. “Or do you have nothing else better to do with your time?”

  The shrill laughter stopped and Melissa shook her head at Portia. “Still as clueless as ever. No, there’s nothing you can do for me. Just as you’re never going to sell that awful gaudy-looking house for anything more than chump change.”

  Portia tilted her head, raising a brow in question. “Oh, are you a real estate expert now?” she asked. “I thought I’d heard something about you being unemployed.”

  As a recipient of gossip which often turned out to be straight lies, Portia didn’t pride herself on listening to or repeating stories she heard from others about people. But Melissa had always been a different case. Besides, last night’s girls’ night with Camy and Rylan had opened Portia up to a whole other world of female politics. Especially when they’d downed Pink Starburst shots and went through the Providence High yearbook with a ‘where are they now?’ segment.

  Melissa’s porcelain complexion paled further, her thin lips pulling into a straight line. “I happen to be married to a very prominent businessman who takes very good care of me,” she snapped.

  Portia nodded and laced her fingers together in her lap. It was her only nervous movement as she sat with her back straight and chin up.

  “That’s wonderful,” Portia replied. “I always knew you would marry well.”

  “Just as I knew you would never amount to anything.”

  “Not sure that’s accurate.” Portia clapped back. “Considering my company easily grossed seven figures last quarter.”

  She didn’t like to brag, and she rarely ever talked about her business or the profits with others. That could be because of the small circle of people she actually socialized with, but whatever the reason, this was out of character for her. But Melissa Bannon had always put Portia on the defensive. The difference this time was that Portia had no intention of taking Melissa’s crap lying down.

  Melissa shrugged. “I’m not surprised at all. Sex always sells. However, it’s still basic and crass. But then I guess that works well for you.”

  “Success works well for me, Melissa. How about you?”

  “Look, Plain Portia,” Melissa said as she stepped closer to the table. “You’re still the same uncouth little outcast that you were when we were younger. Hell, even your parents finally had the good sense to disown you. I hear your dad is a big shot in the political arena and your mother stands classily by his side. Both without their only dismal daughter.”

  The words felt like sharpened barbs driving into Portia’s skin. They stilled her tongue and brought flashbacks of that last argument she’d had with her mother, but Portia refused to let Melissa see that she’d expertly hit her mark.

  “I don’t beg for attention, Melissa. I never did and I never will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, some of us actually have work to do today. You can go along with…whatever it is that you do to make yourself feel worthy these days,” she said.

  “Everything alright here?” Ethan asked as he came up behind Melissa.

  The infuriating woman had the gall to smile as she turned her head so that her hair flipped sassily in Ethan’s direction.

  “Why Ethan, darling. No, everything is not alright. I was just looking for a seat and I saw that this one was taken by someone less than worthy of this great establishment you and your little friends have here. I mean, what would the Town Council say if they knew you had a porn star working here at the bar that they were so nervous about opening in our peaceful little town? I’m sure if I called my Uncle Murray, he’d have to call an emergency council meeting to get to the bottom of this situation and that might lead to fines and penalties, and maybe even the bar being shut down until an investigation could be completed. Now, I know you don’t want that do you, honey? After all, you and your buddies are supposedly working so hard to mend your broken reputations around here.”

  Portia watched as with each sugary spoken word that fell from Melissa’s mouth like venom angered Ethan. His eyes grew to a deep dark green, a muscle in his jaw tightening as he stood silently listening to her.

  “We’re open to the public, Melissa. And as long as our guests act with kindness and decency, we’re happy to serve them. You think you can do that today?” he asked, his tone not changing at all to reflect the anger Portia could sense brewing inside him.

  Melissa frowned. “Don’t let the porn videos fool you, Ethan. I pegged you for more of a man than a sex fiend, easily swayed by vulgar blow jobs and sex toys. But if you make the wrong choice—”

  “There’s no choice to be made,” Portia interjected. “As I said before, I’m just here on business. There’s no need for anyone to change what they’ve been doing in Providence on my account.”

  “The sooner you leave, the better,” Melissa spat before turning back to Ethan.

  She placed a hand with narrow fingers and mauve painted nails to the center of Ethan’s chest. “Remember what I said, Ethan darling. Choose wisely,” Melissa crooned and let her hand glide across his chest before she moved away, leaving Ethan and Portia alone.

  Only a few seconds passed before Ethan reached for Portia’s hand. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

  She shook her head. “You’re working. I can just get my stuff together and head home. It’s no big deal.”

  But it was a big deal, she thought instantly. After the incident with Bobby and all the flack she’d received during her last year of college, Portia had sworn she was through with running from her problems. Especially those problems that weren’t her fault to begin with. She’d packed her bags and escaped from Providence as quickly as she could twelve years ago, in an effort to get away from people like Melissa. Now, she wanted to be stronger.

  “I’m on my break,” Ethan told her. “And I want to spend it walking through the park with you.”

  Portia didn’t argue with him. She closed her laptop and slipped it into the slim black case she had sitting on the empty seat beside her. That case had a long strap and she crossed it over her shoulders so that it now rested at her hip. She accepted his hand and they walked out the front doors of Game Changers into the warm afternoon sun.

  She wore flat sandals today, with a jeweled strap that went through her toes and rested on the top of her foot in a cute fashion. Her beige shorts came to mid-thigh and the pink sleeveless top she wore was just sheer enough to make him want to rip it off her to get to the delectable breasts he knew were beneath.

  Her hand felt warm in his, their slow and easy gait as they crossed the street from the bar and headed a block toward the small dog park seemed easy and natural.

  “When I was little, I dreamed about having a dog,” Ethan told Portia.

  It was something he’d never shared with anyone else before. Talking about his childhood wasn’t something he enjoyed. Stacey had known that and had never pushed. That was one of the reasons Ethan had let down his guard with her.

  “I wanted something like a pitbull or a Rottweiler because they were good guard dogs,” he continued as they started down one of the many cement paths that snaked through the grass and trees.

  In the distance, six other pe
ople were walking their dogs. A beagle, two terriers, a golden Lab, a Pug and a Husky. Across the street utility trucks were pulling up to a parking lot where downed electrical wires still hung from the storm.

  “For years I felt like I needed protection, but none came,” he said.

  Her fingers tightened in his grip.

  “I never felt physically threatened by them,” Portia said quietly as they passed a bench and a large green trash can. “They were vicious with their words. Especially Melissa. But none of them ever came near me as if they were going to do physical harm. I know jiu jitsu. My godmother trained me because she said every young woman should know how to protect herself. I would’ve been ready for any of them if they did approach me.”

  Her voice was even and she looked straight ahead. There was a quiet strength to Portia Merin now. Ethan recalled seeing spurts of it when they were younger. The way Portia always kept her shoulders squared and her head held high even when Melissa or her friends were harassing her. She’d done the same today in the bar when Melissa approached her. Ethan had watched the scene from the bar. He was too far away to hear what was being said, but it looked as if Portia were holding her own. By the time he was able to get away and approach them, he’d heard that his assumption was true. Portia hadn’t needed him to save her from Melissa’s evil wrath, but Ethan had wanted desperately to protect her.

  “I was never afraid of them,” she said. “I just wanted them to find someone else to pick on. For just one day out of my life, I wanted them to look to someone else. Anyone else. The way my parents did.”

  Now she pulled her hand away and walked ahead a few steps.

  “I know you heard what she said about my parents disowning me,” Portia said and then turned back to face him.

  He figured something had gone down between them. In the time he’d been with her, she’d talked more about her godmother than her parents. Ethan pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and waited for her to finish.

  “I was a disappointment to them from the start,” she said with a shrug. “I still don’t quite understand how a child could be born to parents who never wanted her, but there it is. I used to think I was special because surely no other children went through that type of hell. But when I left for college and met other people my age, I heard stories of all kinds of parents. I started to figure that maybe mine weren’t so bad. They didn’t love me, but they had kept a roof over my head and food on the table. They never tried to get to know me, never understood me, but they taught me how to work hard and to focus on my goals. So I owe them partially for my success even though my mother made it perfectly clear with the launch of my second video on YouTube, that she and my father wanted nothing else to do with me. I was never to mention their names or claim relation to them.”

  “Because of your chosen profession?” Like, Portia, he knew firsthand about having parents that sucked. And how to achieve success regardless of that fact.

  “Because it was the last time they were going to allow me to go against their wishes. The first time was when I chose which college I would attend and what I would study. The second…the videos, was the last strike.”

  Ethan lifted a brow at her word usage because while her parents had quit at two, he had his own three strike rule.

  She sighed heavily. “I’m good with their choice. There was never any love between us, only blood. At first it was scary how easily it was to watch my mother walk away from me. But then, I began looking at it as a fresh start. I left the old life of Portia Merin behind in college and I’m very proud of the new Portia Merin.”

  Ethan’s chest felt tight, like something was attempting to squeeze the life out of him. He took a step toward her because he thought it might be the fact that she was still planning to leave Providence and a part of him wanted her to stay.

  “I’m very proud of you too, Portia,” he said.

  A chorus of high-pitched barks disrupted their moment and they both turned to see that one of the tan colored terriers had escaped from its owner and was charging its tiny feet toward them.

  Portia immediately knelt down, a huge grin on her face as she held out her arms and caught the bundle of silky hair. The barking immediately stopped as she held the dog close to her chest. Ethan knelt down too, rubbing the small dog’s head.

  “These are the silliest dogs,” he said through his smile. “They don’t do anything but make a bunch of noise and demand a lot of attention.”

  “I’d give him all of my attention,” she said lifting the dog up so she could rub her nose against its nose. “And in return, he’d love me unconditionally. That’s why I used to long for a pet. Because they didn’t have rules for you to follow or conditions on how much they would love you. They just did.”

  Ethan’s smile stilled and the confidence he knew Portia had was again clouded by the vulnerability he now heard in her voice. This had been what he’d sensed was bothering her all along. The pain she still carried over being pushed away by her parents. He despised Wayne and Judy Merin and swore to take Melissa Bannon down a peg or two the next time she waltzed her snooty ass into the bar.

  13

  Ethan’s loft was neat as she entered it two nights later. His furnishings were sparse and there were no knick-knacks on tables or pictures on the walls. There was a plush dove gray rug in the center of his living room space. She’d taken off her shoes so that she could bury her toes in it while surveying his extensive movie and music collection.

  In this digital age, Portia was shocked to see that he had CDs lined neatly on four of the six built-in shelves on one side of the large flat screen television that hung in the center of the living room wall. He kept them in alphabetical order. The movies, however, were in order according to genre. Action, Westerns and Sci-Fi. She smiled when she saw a familiar case.

  “Oh wow, you’re a Star Wars fan too!” she exclaimed.

  Ethan looked up from the island in the center of the kitchen. The completely open floor plan and lack of furniture caused an echo throughout the space, but was consistent with the contemporary look of the building.

  “Of course. All the cool kids are,” Ethan joked.

  He’d been doing that a lot in the past few days. Actually, it seemed they’d both relaxed into a comfortable existence. Which was why she hadn’t hesitated when he invited her to his loft for a replacement dinner. He’d wanted to make it up to her for burning the grilled cheese sandwiches the night of the hurricane. She’d offered to cook, but he’d insisted he could prepare something edible. From the scents wafting in the air, she was beginning to believe he could.

  “Pick out your favorite. I’m almost done here so we can watch while we eat,” he yelled from the kitchen after they’d been there for half an hour.

  She got up from the couch where she’d been sitting and went to the shelf again, quickly pulling a case from many. She’d found the remote control to the television a while ago on one of the sleek metal tables beside the black cushioned sofa. Ethan came into the living room area then. He moved past her and came back with two small tables. He unfolded both, sitting them in front of the chair while she opened the case and inserted the disk into the Blu Ray player.

  A comfortable existence indeed.

  Minutes later Ethan called from the kitchen again. “All done. Can you come get our drinks?”

  “Sure.” She walked into the kitchen to pick up the bottle of beer and glass of Sprite he’d poured for her.

  She tried not to feel any kind of way about the fact that he remembered she liked Sprite. He was a bartender after all.

  “You made spaghetti and meatballs?” she asked after glancing at the two plates he carried into the living room.

  “Yes. I did.”

  “All by yourself?”

  When he turned, giving her a mock hurt look, she chuckled.

  “What? It’s a valid question. I mean, I watched you destroy two slices of bread and cheese, and this looks and smells amazing.”

  “I h
ave garlic bread too, with freshly made garlic butter. It’s warming in the over. Be right back.”

  Before he left, he dropped a kiss on her forehead. Portia smiled at how much she liked that small gesture. She also sat down on the couch in front of one of the tables. In seconds Ethan was back with the bread, setting two slices on each of their tables.

  “Start the movie,” he told her.

  After she pressed the start button on the remote, Ethan grabbed her hand and she looked over to see that he was bowing his head. She followed and they blessed their food together.

  “You didn’t ask which one I selected,” she said when he took a drink of his beer.

  “They’re all favorites so it really doesn’t matter.”

  Until the words came up on the screen.

  “How did I know you were on my team? Episode IV is the best always and forever,” Ethan said.

  “Always and forever,” Portia agreed and took a forkful of her food.

  She moaned with how good the food tasted. Ethan smiled and his chest poked out a little further.

  “Yeah, you can thank me later,” he joked and forked spaghetti into his mouth as well.

  They were halfway through the movie and stuffed from two plates of food and more bread than Portia ever wanted to admit consuming, when Ethan’s house phone rang. He seemed surprised at the sound and looked over to the other end table where a cordless phone sat on its charger. After another ring, he finally leaned over and grabbed the phone. Two very stiff, but cordial, sentences later and he stood up, walking toward the front door with the phone in his hand.

  Portia wasn’t listening. She was watching the movie. Eavesdropping was rude. But he was talking louder than Luke Skywalker and Han Solo.