Games We Play (8 page)

She took in a breath of air, her first calming one since they’d started this.

“I don’t know what to say, except maybe wow,” she said, and felt his stomach move against hers as he chuckled.

“How long are you going to be in town?” he said.

“How long do you need me to be?” she said, and this time he laughed. He turned away from her to dispose of the condom and get dressed, and lost in her thoughts, she just stood there, staring at this thing of beauty.
Oh lord, ass and thighs
ran on repeat in her head.

“Who are you here in town to see?” he said, turning to face her.

She was still staring.

“Who are you here in town to see?” he repeated, chuckling as he stepped into his boxers, followed by his shorts.

“My aunt Myra. Do you know her? Myra Miller?”

“Yes, I do. She comes into the Brewpub almost every day,” he said, pulling on his shirt.

“I think the owner might be stealing from her,” she said. He looked up at her, a strange look on his face.

“You do? Why would you think that?”

“She’s losing money. It’s one of the reasons I’m here in town, spending the summer with her, to help her with her finances. My mom asked me to,” she said, putting on her clothes.

“Why do you think it’s the Brewpub owner who’s stealing?” he asked.

“She spends a lot of time there—you just said so—and I’ve checked out her account statements. I get a copy of them. How well do you know the owner, Barnabus Cooper—and what kind of name is Barnabus anyway?” she asked, sliding into her shoes now.

“I know him well enough, and I’m sure he didn’t have much say in the selection of his name,” he said. Was this some tactic of hers he hadn’t considered, trying to pin something on him like this?

“I’m here to check him out, make sure he’s not running some scam on my aunt. You know how people can be when it comes to money, and the elderly can be extremely susceptible,” she said.

He nodded in agreement. “Is it important to you? Your aunt’s money?” he asked, putting his shoes on.

“Money is always important,” she said flippantly, and gave him a wink. “I’m going to be here a while, and I’m sure you’re not going to believe this, but I really don’t do things like this so soon after meeting someone.”

“Sure,” he said, and smiled. She couldn’t tell if he believed her or not.

“I have my business cards in the car. If you’d like to get together again, maybe we could exchange numbers,” she said, nervous now. She was standing at the door, waiting for his response as he scanned the room.

“Let’s meet back here tomorrow, at the end of the day,” he said.

“What if either of us gets tied up?” she asked.

“I won’t,” he said.

“You’re sure your boss won’t mind?” she asked.

“No, but I usually know when he’s going to be around.”

“What if it’s not empty?”

“You can use the driving range or the practice green until it is,” he said, watching as she walked over to him. She put her hands on his waist and lifted her mouth, touching her lips to his. Her tongue moved across the seam of his lips, and pushed through, and he met it with his, ready all over again, it seemed. She stepped back and smiled, like she knew he wanted more.

“I like this town already,” she said, and laughed. He chuckled and followed her out the door.

It was quiet between them as they made their way to her car, and he waited until she handed him one of her business cards.
Kendall Edwards, Assistant Professor, The University
it read.

“I had a great time playing with you on the course, and then later…” she said, letting her words die out. She leaned in and kissed him again before she got in her SUV and pulled out of the parking lot.

He was still standing there and met her gaze in her rearview mirror and caught her smile before she made a right onto Old Quarry Road.

Houston who?
was one of the two thoughts rattling around in her head as she drove away. The other was,
Welcome to Coopersville
.

Cooper followed her car with his eyes until it disappeared around the bend. He heard the ring of his cell phone and reached into his pocket. It was Luis, his buddy, calling.

“So how did it go?” Luis asked.

“Fine.”

“What did she say?”

“She thinks I’m the one who’s stealing.”

“What? You?”

“That’s what she said.”

“I wonder what she’s up to. Must be some game we hadn’t thought of. She may be better at this than we’d thought or planned for,” Luis said.

“She’s not,” Cooper said.

“You sound like you mean it,” Luis said.

“I do.”

“You tell her that Myra is not to be messed with? That she has friends who have her back?”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean, no?”

“We didn’t talk much. We played golf, and she’s a good little golfer.”

“Golf? You played golf?”

“Yes, I believe that’s what I said. We played golf.”

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” Luis said after a moment of silence.

“I improvised.”

“You weren’t supposed to improvise, and what does that even mean? What kind of improvising?”

It was Cooper’s turn to be quiet.

“Tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” he asked.

His buddy didn’t answer the obvious.

“She wanted it as much as I did,” he said, as much of an explanation as he was willing to give.

“You were only supposed to talk to her.”

“Of course, and we talked. There is more than one way to communicate.”

“You know what I mean, and I didn’t know you were interested in…forget it. I don’t think this is what Myra had in mind when she asked for our help.”

“I’ll find the answers my own way. And I never said I wasn’t interested in them, just that I hadn’t met any that I wanted to get to know further.”

“Did it have to be Myra’s niece you decided to try with?”

“It wasn’t like that. She’s really attractive and she’s a good golfer,” he said.

“A golfer, huh,” Luis said, chuckling. “I’m at a loss here, dude. I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Luis added.

“I do. When have I not kept the interest of this town in mind? When have I not looked out for Myra?”

“I know, but…”

“But nothing. I’ll have my answer soon enough,” he said.

“Fine, but you’re on your own if Myra finds out.”

“Aren’t I always? You could never hold out against Myra’s questioning anyway,” he said, and ended the call.

Memorial Day weekend, Saturday

I
t was going to be another busy day. Hell, they all were. It seemed as though the brewing business had taken a turn for the best two years ago, and there was no going back. Not that he could complain. How many people got to do what they wanted for a living? He could spend all day brewing and selling beer. He was one of the lucky ones.

Cooper stood behind the desk in his office, going through his checklist of things he needed to accomplish that day. It was near noon, and he was already falling behind. He was having a heck of a time concentrating. Last night with the professor had left a lasting impression.

He needed to head out front in a second; the rush was starting early, since it was the holiday weekend. He expected large crowds today. He was still training Junior, a young kid, on all things bartending and beer brewing. The son of a friend, Cooper had taken him under his wing. The kid had wanted nothing to do with college, and he’d run into some trouble. He needed a second chance. Cooper had needed help at one time, so he understood and tried to do what he could.

He closed the door to his office and walked down the short hallway, passing the industrial-sized pantry, refrigerator, and freezer, where all the kitchen supplies were kept. The brewery and its storage and refrigeration area were located at the opposite end of the building. His office and the kitchen shared the same rectangular space—his office was on one end, separated from the kitchen by the supplies area. He passed through the door that led to the kitchen.

“We good here?” he asked Alex, his chef, who was standing next to the door.

“Sure,” Alex said, nodding. It was busy in the kitchen—fifteen staff members were on duty today, seven waiters and waitresses, moving fast and efficiently to deliver food to their customers. There were two dining areas, one inside, one out. The Coopersville Brewpub was as famous for its good food as it was its beer.

There was just as much of an art to pairing beer with food as there was with wine. They made sandwiches with Alex’s special bread, thick, decadent sandwiches served with thick and decadent fries, pizzas smothered in new and unusual toppings, as well as dishes like the shrimp-and-grits special. Cooper wouldn’t have put shrimp and grits together, but here it worked. Along with the beer, the food was what kept people returning for more. Alex was one heck of a chef, and Cooper tried to make sure he was happy. Whatever Alex wanted, Alex usually got.

Brewpub food was filled with flavors to accompany the flavorful beer served here, which was light years in taste as far as you could get from the liquid that passed for beer elsewhere in the state. He didn’t even consider that watered-down nonsense beer. Made to please everyone, it was free from any discernable taste, and it satisfied no one. Yeah, that was his opinion, and apparently he wasn’t alone, because craft beer in the US was quietly making a comeback.

The Brewpub was not really his, but a co-op, with membership open to the town, and that had also been a lifelong dream of his—to have a business different from his father’s. It had turned out better than he’d imagined. He walked out of the kitchen and over to the bar area. Junior stood there, a look of expectation on his face.

“What’s up?” Cooper asked when he reached him.

“I need to leave, an emergency…something just came up. Can you give me thirty minutes? I promise I’ll be back,” he said, at his most earnest. Cooper studied him for a few seconds before nodding his approval.

“Thanks, Coop,” he said, practically running to the exit.

The bar was a backwards C shape, made of granite, courtesy of his family’s quarry. He’d hand-selected it. Smooth white stone treated to withstand the rigors of daily use in the Brewpub.

Coop took his place behind the bar and checked his watch again.

“Is that smile for me?” asked Donna, his most experienced waitress on duty this morning. This weekend, it was all hands on deck, including the two new employees Luis had hired.

“Was I smiling?” he said, looking up.

Donna was two years out of high school, and she worked at his place full-time and the bingo hall part-time. She was a young, pretty African American woman, with a nice figure; plentiful, long hair; polished nails; short skirts; tight clothing…and, most importantly, she was on the prowl for someone to take care of her. She was way too young for him.

“Have you met your new employees?” she asked.

“No, I’ve not had the pleasure yet.”

“I’ll introduce you to one of them. She came through the door behind me a few minutes ago, and of course I’m the one training her today,” she said, all put upon.

“There is no one better at it than you,” he said, and he meant it. He could depend on Donna. He turned away, returning his mind to the professor, which had been the source of his smile earlier. What an inspired plan he’d devised, and what a powerful impression she’d left on him, her nice smooth brown bottom up and waiting for him. He had a hard time thinking of anything else. Wouldn’t it be nice if she turned out to be on the up-and-up, and then he could have a chance for more? Hell, she was going to be here all summer anyway. Truth be told, it had been a while for him. He hadn’t done a long-term relationship, not since that one time—

“Cooper, this is our newest employee, Celeste Henderson,” Donna said, interrupting his thoughts.

He turned to face her and ended up taking a step back, surprised by the woman who stood before him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

She smiled, laughed, an old familiar sound that used to flow over him like soft rain washing away his worries about his father. They’d just gotten home from Belgium when he found out his dad was dying of pancreatic cancer.

“I’m working here now,” she said.

“Celeste,” he said, trying to gather his thoughts. It had been five years since they’d seen each other. It was her, his ex-fiancée, and she was employed by him now? She looked just as she had then—same beautiful, slim build, same soulful blue eyes. She was short but with a proclivity toward heels, which made her legs seem longer and somehow sexier. All those and many other memories vied for space in his brain, leaving him unable to speak for a second or two. His very last memory was of her leaving him for another man, and that was enough to jar him back to the present.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. Had he asked that already? She smiled.

“I work here. Luis Hinojosa hired me earlier this week, full-time,” she said tentatively, and he’d never known her to be that.

“I’m full-time too,” Donna said to Celeste, giving her boss time to get it together.

“I live across the street from you now too,” Celeste said, waiting for that shock to be absorbed before she added, “Luis rented one of your houses to me.”

Cooper trusted Luis with his life. He was a valuable member of the co-op and his old childhood buddy, which was why he’d assigned him the hiring duties for the pub as well the management of the houses he rented out, but WTF, his old fiancée?

“We’ll let you get to work,” Donna said, staring at a flustered Cooper. “Follow me. I’ll show you where to check in, and then I’ll show you what has to be done before the first morning shift,” Donna said to Celeste before she headed back to the kitchen, Celeste by her side. Cooper stood there and watched her walk away. She truly was the same beautiful girl he remembered, all that dark hair, thick and full, falling down her back, same smooth porcelain skin, same delicate, please-take-care-of-me air that lingered around her, one that had always made him feel needed. He used to like being needed.