Playing for Kicks (Play Makers Book 5) (35 page)

Summoning her courage, she called Noah’s
number, expecting voice mail, and only vaguely optimistic he would
even call back.

Instead, he answered with a gruff,
“Hello?”

“Hey, Noah?” she said brightly. “It’s Tess
Colby, remember me? Patrick Murphy’s journalist friend?”

“Hey, Tess. What’s up?”

The friendly greeting surprised her so she
decided to go for it. “Do you have plans for Saturday?”

He exhaled loudly. “Why? What’s the
point?”

She recognized that off-putting tone, but now
found it endearing. So she explained, “The point is, I’m going to
dress slutty. Do you know what a tube top is?”

There was silence for a moment, then a
reluctant chuckle. “I know what it is. And
you
know I have a
girlfriend, right?”

“And I have a boyfriend, so we’re even,” she
said with a laugh. “This is still an interview, Noah. Just with
better visuals.”

“Like I said, what’s the point? The past is
the past. There’s nothing more to say.”

She persisted. “My questions last time were
uninspiring. Now that we’re friends I can do a better job. So give
me another chance, please? What do you have to lose?”

“We’re friends?” he asked skeptically. “Based
on what? The way I stonewalled you last time?”

She liked the way he referred to it as “last
time.” Didn’t that imply there was a
next
time?

“All I need from you is to pick me up at the
airport and take me out for an early dinner. Some kind of Tex-Mex
restaurant, because yum. But it can’t be too noisy because we need
to chat. Oh, and Murf doesn’t know about this, so if you could keep
it to yourself I’d appreciate it.”

“You’re wasting your time” he said, sounding
frustrated. “But sure, I’ll buy you dinner. Just text me the
arrival info.”

“Thanks, Noah,” she said, trying not to sound
as thrilled as she felt. “See you Saturday.”

• • •

Two days later when her plane landed in
Dallas, Tess’s confidence hit an all-time high. Sean had been so
supportive of this hopeless quest, and in return she had promised
to give
real
notice at Zone D. Just two more sets of
Sunday-Monday shifts then she was done. She hadn’t told Sean about
their fantasy trip to Hawaii, but she had rehearsed it by trying on
the scarlet sarong-dress dozens of times.

Everything was falling into place.

Unencumbered by luggage, she breezed through
the airport to the women’s restroom to freshen up her ponytail and
reposition the bubblegum-pink tube top before applying the same
shade of lip gloss.

Not bad,
she decided.

In her Hawaiian waitress days she had
received compliments on her bare shoulders. This top with faded
jeans and pink high-heeled sandals would hopefully create the same
effect.

She found Noah at the curb next to a
utilitarian pickup truck, looking tough but sweet in his black
cowboy shirt, jeans and boots. He even blushed when she pecked him
on the cheek, which made her believe this crazy scheme would work
after all.

On the drive to the restaurant he was his
usual monosyllabic self, but seemed more relaxed than last time.
Even better, he adopted a protective attitude when he escorted her
to their reserved table, to the point of glowering at an obnoxious
guy who gave her a random “Hey, babe.”

Once they settled at their reserved table,
Noah ordered beer for himself and nachos to share, and Tess went
with a vodka tonic.

“You look pretty good,” he admitted when the
waitress had left them alone.

“Thanks, so do you.” She smiled sweetly, then
pulled the recorder from her purse and set it on the table. When he
scowled, she pretended not to notice. “Did I mention last time that
I’m actually writing
two
articles?”

“Perfect,” he growled.

“The topic of the second one is superstitious
athletes.”

“I’m not superstitious. And I don’t want to
be in that one either.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re superstitious
for sure. The problem is, you think you’re
un
lucky. Whereas
most athletes focus on the things that bring them luck. So check
this out.” She dug in her purse again, found the first item—a small
glass vial—and laid it on the table between them. “This is water
from Lourdes. A holy grotto in France, right? A friend gave it to
me but I never really appreciated it until now.”

Noah grunted.

“Moving on,” she drawled, placing a shabby
white rabbit’s foot on the table. “I don’t actually approve of this
sort of thing, but it’s an antique. My editor’s grandpa gave it to
him when he was a kid. But he always felt conflicted about owning
it. So when I told him I had a friend who needed good luck, he
gladly handed it over.”

“So
I
can feel conflicted instead?”
Noah drawled.

“No, so you can carry it with you. For
luck.”

“I’m not carrying that mangy thing around,”
he said, chuckling. The waitress had returned with their drinks, so
he pushed the rabbit’s foot and holy water back toward Tess to make
room for his beer. Then he reminded her gruffly, “I thought you
were gonna flirt with me.”

“I said I’d
dress
slutty, not flirt.
Anyway, I saved the best for last.” Rummaging again, she located
the obsidian arrowhead. “I found this the other day and my gut
tells me it’s lucky.”

He picked it up and studied it. “Looks like a
reject.”

“
Excuse
me? How is it a reject?”

“See how it’s not consistent? Must have
flaked off wrong.” He seemed wistful. “I found tons of these at my
aunt’s place when I was a kid.”

“Do you still have them?”

“Yeah, they’re in a drawer at her house. Do
you want them?”

“You’re missing the point. You
found
them. That was lucky. So you should pick the best one and carry it
in your pocket. Because they’re not doing you any good in a drawer,
right?”

He seemed frustrated. “So I
pretend
to
be superstitious? Just so you can switch me over to the other
article? Thanks but no thanks.”

“Don’t worry, you’re still in the advertising
article.” She lifted her drink and touched it to his beer mug. “To
us.”

He looked at her, then just shrugged and
said, “Yeah, to us. So what now?”

“Now I ask you my new and improved questions.
And since we’re friends, you’re going to answer in full sentences.
Please?”

To her surprise, he reached across the table,
took her hand, and said quietly, “You’re looking for a story that
doesn’t exist. I broke the rules. I got what I deserved. It’s in
the past. That’s all there is to say.”

“Why did you need a car?” she countered him.
“Did your old one break down? Or did you just want something newer?
Sharper?”

Releasing her hand, he glared. “I didn’t have
one at all. That was the problem.”

“Did the other players have cars? At least an
old clunker from some family member?”

“It seemed that way,” he agreed. “Like I was
the only one—” Pausing to glare again, he assured her, “That
doesn’t excuse what I did. I like you, Tess,” he said bluntly. “But
if you write something like that, I’ll be pissed.”

Undaunted, she reminded him he could review
the final draft and make any changes he wanted. If they couldn’t
reach a compromise, she’d leave him out entirely. It seemed to
mollify him, and he started talking again. “My dad took off when I
was little. Mom did her best, but there were three of us kids and
we were too much, so I ended up with my aunt and uncle. They didn’t
have much money, so I gave them what I earned from part-time jobs.
They deserved that for stepping up,” he insisted. “There just
wasn’t anything extra.”

“They sound wonderful.”

“They are. And it’s not like I was a football
star, so I was lucky to get a partial scholarship and some decent
loans at a good school.”

“You were lucky because you lived in the same
house with the arrowheads,” she reminded him.

Noah grinned. “You’re crazy, you know
that?”

“Finish the story.”

To her surprise, he finally opened up. So
many details. So many reasons to forgive that twenty-year-old kid.
Even some bizarre twists that might have exonerated him—or at least
changed the public narrative—if he had had decent advice at the
time.

He needed someone like Jill,
she told
herself sadly.
Or Murf. Or Gusty’s nephew.

“Did you know Murf back then?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered, but no. He
recruited me the next year. Don’t ask me why.” He flashed an
unexpected smile. “I was lucky that day too, right? And guess what?
He recruited me at my aunt’s house, so maybe you’re right about
those arrowheads.”

“Did you tell him the story in all this
detail?”

“He knows the short version. Which is the
only version that counts. I’m not even sure why I told
you
the other stuff.”

“It’s the bare shoulders.”

“And the ponytail,” he agreed with a laugh.
Then he leaned forward and told her, “I appreciate what you’re
trying to do. But just leave it alone, will you? I’m at peace with
it.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“I know.”

“What about your girlfriend?” Tess winced at
his blank expression. “You haven’t told
her
the long version
either? You need to tell her, Noah. And Murf too.”

He hesitated, then said simply, “Here’s what
I
don’t
want. People making excuses for me. Saying I was
just a kid from a deprived background. Because that’s not true. I
was twenty years old and I had a good family. I knew the rules and
I broke them. End of story. I
mean
it, Tess.”

“I gave you my word I won’t make excuses. And
I won’t.”

He eyed her intently, then shifted his gaze
to the empty nachos platter. “Are you full? I ordered mesquite
steak ahead of time because it takes hours to prepare. Totally
worth it. But I can get it to-go if that’s better.”

“I’m always willing to overeat for a good
cause,” she assured him. “The good news is, I’m done with my
questions so we can relax and enjoy ourselves. As long as I make my
flight home.”

• • •

She had wondered where destiny would lead
her. Portland, Seattle, Hawaii?

Now it seemed like the signs were everywhere.
For one thing, the Noah interview rocked thanks to Sean’s advice to
loosen up, be herself, not try so hard to be a sophisticated
journalist.

Then there was the bombshell dropped by Ed
the owner when she showed up at Zone D on Sunday. Her favorite
bouncer, Rocky, had left abruptly on Saturday when his mom had a
stroke in Texas. Mom needed her son, and because Rocky was indeed a
rock, he moved back home without hesitation. He had only been at
Zone D for two years, but he and Tess had forged an alliance where
she shared her tips willingly and he guarded her with his life.

With Rocky gone, shouldn’t she leave too?

And so, after giving notice so many times,
she wrote it in ink on the master calendar—Sunday and Monday of
this week, Sunday and Monday next week, then done. Forever.

And word must have gotten out because the bar
was jumping on Sunday afternoon despite the golf tournament on the
main screen. Regulars popped in for an hour here and there, trivia
contests abounded, and the mood was so light, she wished
this
could be her last day. Leave them on a high note.

The only dark cloud was the new bouncer, a
muscle-bound guy named Jerry who was arguably bigger and stronger
than Rocky, but lacked the gravitas of her former favorite. Where
Rocky’s expression had been unreadable, his eyes always scanning
for trouble, his tight black T-shirt and black jeans giving no
indication of identity or personality, Jerry was lively. Chatting
with the customers. Flirting with two females who had apparently
come into Zone D just for the pleasure of his company.

And he would have flirted with Tess too if
she hadn’t shooed him away with a cheerful, “Time to patrol, big
fella. This is a great crowd but you never know, right?”

He had assured her it was under control, but
did what she asked, and she almost forgot about him after that.
Because it
was
a great crowd, so even if a fight broke out
or some jerk got pushy, the patrons would be as quick as the
bouncer to make sure it didn’t get out of hand.

Her plan was to give Jerry a few pointers
once she closed up the place. But first she would remind him he
would reap a share of her tips, just to soften him up.

Unfortunately, when she looked up from her
closing paperwork, Jerry was gone. Not only was it inconvenient, it
was dangerous, since the most important part of his job was walking
her to the RAV4 at the end of an exhausting shift.

Could she walk to her car alone this one
time? Sure, but she had promised herself she would never, ever do
that. The neighborhood was decent but not great. And at this hour?
Simply not worth the risk.

So she did exactly what she was trained to
do—dumped it on her boss.

“Hey, Tess,” Ed murmured, clearly half asleep
as he answered the phone.

“Your new bouncer took off without walking me
to my car,” she explained. “We need to make that clear, right?
Especially when Victoria starts working on her own.”

“Damn, this might be
my
fault,” Ed
admitted. “I didn’t spell it out in so many words. I just figured
it was obvious. Damn . . .”

“He was fine otherwise,” she said wistfully.
“I just miss Rocky.”

“Yeah, you guys were a team. We all were. Now
you’re all deserting me.” Chuckling so she’d know he was mostly
kidding, he said firmly, “Make sure the doors are locked. Pour
yourself a cup of coffee. And sit tight. I’m on my way.”

• • •